“It’s late. You should be asleep,” Quint replied.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask a question,” Quint said, sitting on the edge of the bed before giving Clay a kiss.
Clay kissed him back, then looked him over. “You’re pale as a ghost, and those are not the pants you were wearing when you left the house.”
“I changed for the job?”
“Bull. Where did you get hit this time?”
Quint sighed. “You know me too well. It was a clean wound, in and out, in my thigh. Honest. The ER doc said I’ll be just fine.”
“Did you at least take down Alberts? Or was it Carter?”
“Carter. And we did. He’s sitting in jail as we speak, along with several of his men.” Quint proceeded to tell him what had happened.
“There are times when I wonder why I hooked up with you,” Clay said when Quint finished.
Quint smiled. “Then you remember that you love me and I love you, and everything is good again.”
“So true.” Clay carefully hugged him, kissing him once more.