The Wolfe Proxy by T.D. McKinney

Author:T.D. McKinney [McKinney, T.D.]
Language: nld
Format: epub
Tags: erotic MM, Romance MM
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Ah yes, the spot famed in song and story.” Max grinned at the look Quint gave him as they walked into the lobby of the high-rise condo complex. “Should I have brought my camera? I bet the Enquirer would pay a bundle.”

Quint’s sigh made the teasing worthwhile. “The penthouse was featured in D Magazine a year ago. I’m afraid you missed your window of opportunity.” Quint pressed the elevator button and pulled his key ring from the pocket of his jeans.

“I was kidding.” Max slipped him arm around Quint as the mirrored doors closed. “Are you okay? You looked like you saw a ghost at Mary’s, and you didn’t say much on the drive here.”

Max could have sworn Quint’s hand tightened around the white box he held. “The mobile reminded me of…something.”

Broad shoulders squared and that straight nose tipped up a bit.

“I’m sorry I’m no longer a scintillating companion.”

A punch to the jaw would have hurt less. Max held onto his temper and opted for a second try before he decided to stop the elevator at the next floor. “Babe, I wasn’t trying to pry and I wasn’t complaining. I just don’t like to see you sad.” He dared a touch to Quint’s cheek. “Even though you’re still beautiful. Your eyes remind me of a rainstorm, all dark and misty. It was an offer to listen, nothing more.”

Quint’s shoulders relaxed and his grip on the box 126

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containing the mobile eased. “I’m sorry. I’m new at this…relationship thing. It’s not something I understand yet.”

Quint turned the key, opening the elevator doors at the top floor. “I’ve always been a private man, Max. Sharing may take me a while. I’m all right, truly. It’s just the mobile hit a nerve I thought was dead.” He motioned Max out ahead of him.

“Welcome.”

“Wow.” The view alone made the place gorgeous. The Dallas skyline dominated floor-to-ceiling windows on one whole wall. In the afternoon sun the burgundy walls, trimmed in dark oak, glowed like fine wine.

Quint didn’t comment on the reaction, just continued through the huge living room. “You can come with me if you want to.”

“Sure.” Max followed, taking his time just a little. The place looked like a gallery or a museum. Everything pin-neat, not so much as a magazine in sight to spoil the view. How the hell did you live in a place like this? He frowned as he followed Quint toward a tall oak door. Max glimpsed an impossibly large dining room off to his left, the table easily big enough to seat over a dozen. The frown grew. Not the sort of place you sat down to enjoy a burger or a carton of moo goo gai pan.

The artwork, though…beautiful classical sculptures in marble and bronze, the expected Remington reproductions interspersed with pieces so subtly sensual Max felt a shiver run across his shoulders just looking at them. Not the collection of a mere patron, an investor. Some of the artists 127

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Max knew from fund-raisers and tiny galleries around the DFW.

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