Ricochet (Locked & Loaded #1) (5 page)

Rick waited for Quinn to kick him out of her apartment.

Miraculously, he caught a hint of a smile on her face. Her head was tipped down and she glanced up through thick, black lashes. The turnaround in her behavior from scared to pleased hit Rick like a punch to the gut. Her smile, it lit up her entire face changing her from gorgeous to fucking stunning. Those large amber eyes glowed with delight, small crinkles forming in the corners, making her that much more beautiful. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anything as striking as a relaxed and happy Quinn Wallace.

 “Really?” Her voice made it sound as if he were offering to jet her off to Europe at a moment’s notice. “You’d do that for me?”

It made Rick sad to think that someone offering to grocery shop for her was probably the nicest thing anyone had done for her in a while. That, he could fix. He might not know what happened in her past or be able to change it, but he certainly could make her feel cared for in the here and now.

Being the cause of Quinn smiles became his new fix. One he didn’t think he could go long without. Like an addict, he knew he would crave it, do anything to make it happen. Rick wondered if this would be an addiction that would bring him up high, only to leave him to crash and burn.

QUINN CRINGED INTERNALLY for letting Rick see how surprised she was that people, specifically men, could actually be nice. She didn’t want Rick to know about Travis or that she was hiding from an abusive husband. In her new life, Quinn didn’t want anyone to think she was weak. That way they wouldn’t try to take advantage of her like Travis did after her father died.

When she asked if he really meant it, he seemed surprised. Maybe it was normal for people to go out of their way for strangers. What the heck did she know? Her view of the world was tainted by Travis and his cowboy boots. “Sure. I have to go to the store myself. I didn’t see a car outside, so I figured you could use a lift.”

Quinn finally let her guard down completely. Mack wouldn’t have hired Rick if he weren’t a good guy. Eventually, she’d have to take the first step in starting to trust men again if she ever wanted to live a normal life. That’s what the female counselors at the women’s shelters said time and time again. One of Mack’s trusted employees seemed like a good place to test that theory.

Quinn took a deep breath. “Okay. Just let me get some shoes on first.”

“Sure thing, doll. I’ll wait here.”

Quinn frowned at the pet name but decided maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. In fact, it was kind of growing on her. Grinning, she hurried to the bedroom without comment, slipping on a tattered pair of flip-flops. She left most of her belongings behind in Texas, taking only the essentials. That left her with about two pairs of shoes and five different outfits. Most of those came from a women’s shelter she stayed in the first month after fleeing, others came from the second one.

Quinn didn’t want to keep anything that reminded her of Travis, including her clothes, so it wasn’t much of a loss. The only thing she kept was her extensive collection of lingerie. On the darkest days, shopping online for pretty, frilly underthings was sometimes the only thing keeping her from plunging headfirst into a suicidal depression. No way was she leaving behind the one thing that gave her happiness.

When they reached the parking lot, Rick held open the door to his sleek black sedan, a gesture she hadn’t experienced in years. Chivalry was most definitely
not
Travis’ thing. The small gesture floored her. Was it possible that Rick wasn’t the self-centered douchebag she initially assumed him to be?

“Thank you.” Quinn settled into the passenger seat with her hands on her lap, waiting for Rick to circle the car to the driver’s side.

She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. The interior smelled like Rick. A delicious combination of his woodsy aftershave and his own decidedly masculine scent mixed with the soft leather of the seats.

At the click of the other door opening, Quinn opened her eyes. Rick slid gracefully into the car and within seconds they were pulling out of the lot and onto the main road. They drove in relative silence for a few minutes, Quinn quietly taking in the sights of the Buckhead neighborhood that surrounded the gym.

Rick was the first to break the silence. “You know Mack.”

He didn’t ask it as a question.

“Yes. He served in the Marines with my dad.”

Quinn was careful to keep her eyes forward. Looking at Rick was hazardous to her wellbeing. She was in no place to have any kind of relationship with anyone, and staring at his beautiful face was not a good way to keep her distance.

Relationship, yeah right. Who said he would even want a relationship? I don’t want a relationship. No way.

Rick grunted in acknowledgement, one hand casually draped over the steering wheel. “You grew up in Georgia then.”

Again, not a question.

“If you know all of this about me already, why are we discussing it?” Quinn was becoming irritated that Rick seemed to know everything about her. She had no intentions of telling him about the tiny rural town she grew up in, how she fled the state to go to college in Texas, and when her dad died, she hooked up with Travis and ruined her life.

“Just making conversation, doll.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Quinn could see Rick smiling. Great, now he was making fun of her. She decided to let the “doll” comment go since Rick was blatantly ignoring her requests to stop using it and it was growing on her. Instead, Quinn decided to turn the conversation around.

“Well, since you know so much about me, why don’t you tell me how you know Mack?”

Rick paused a minute before answering, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel at a red light. “Mack was my C.O. in boot camp.” He turned to look at her briefly before the light turned. “My commanding officer. Put me through two months of hell.” She saw the corner of his mouth quirk up as he spoke of Mack.

“That makes sense. My dad said that after he had to retire, Mack stayed in the corps.”

“Here we are.” Rick stopped the car in a busy shopping center. It was overflowing with cars as their owners bought their groceries.

Rick strode around the car to open Quinn’s door and once again, she marveled at the fact that men still did courteous things like that. Especially big, hard-assed, narcissistic guys like Rick.

“Share a carriage or go separate?” Rick had a shopping cart in hand, ready to push it into the store, just waiting on her answer.

Quinn debated the intimacy of sharing a shopping cart, then cursed herself for being so stupid. It was a cart, not an engagement ring. “I only need a few things, we can share if you want.” She shrugged so Rick wouldn’t see the serious thought she gave to such a stupid non-issue.

Rick nodded, directing the cart through the door. Quinn wasn’t positive, but she thought she caught another glimpse of a smile on his face.

Hmmm, huge, muscly, egotistical fighters who open doors for women and push shopping carts. Who would have thought that would be my type?

Wait, is that my type?

Quinn pondered the question as she watched Rick weave up and down each aisle, waiting patiently for her to choose each item. Not once did he rush her or yell at her or call her stupid. His electric blue eyes found hers every once in a while, sending goose bumps down her arms and a heavy dose of straight-up lust racing through her veins.

When they reached the checkout and Rick helped her load her items onto the conveyor belt, the sinewy muscles of his arms and back flexing in front of her, she realized that unfortunately, yes… he was
exactly
her type.

Chapter 5

“HEY SUGAR, NEED company?”

Rick sipped his beer slowly, turning towards the woman who slid onto the barstool next to him. His gaze lazily swept up her body to her face.

She was pretty but had an unnaturally curvy figure and wore too much makeup… things that never bothered Rick before. He wasn’t called Ricochet for nothing. Hit it and skip out. That was what he did.

Tonight, however, he was off his game. This was the third woman to approach him, offering up exactly what he came here to find. Each time, he found something about the woman that turned him off. All he could think about was a certain innocently seductive brunette. One with a quick wit and a fuck ton of secrets.

Great, she’s only been here one week and Quinn somehow managed to break my dick.

He briefly toyed with the idea of letting this woman blow him in the bathroom and changed his mind. “Nah, not tonight.” Rick dismissed the woman with a wink and turned back to his drink, drumming his fingers on the bar. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t in the mood for a hookup tonight. No, instead he was twitchy and restless, as if his own skin didn’t fit right. Rick threw some money on the bar, pissed that his night didn’t go as planned, and stormed out.

By the time he got back to his Midtown condo, he was even more agitated and fidgety than he had been at the bar—and after thinking about Quinn the whole ride home, he now had an erection hard enough to pound nails. He poured a rather large scotch and paced back and forth in front of his windows for over an hour, cursing himself for allowing Quinn to wiggle her way into his life so quickly.

Rick replayed the afternoon in his head. Once he got Quinn out of her place and into the store, she became playful, almost mischievous. Her features lit up with a joy he wouldn’t have thought the introverted girl was capable of if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Unfortunately, the minute they got back to her little apartment above the gym, she reverted right back into the timid, nervous wreck he had met earlier.

Quinn didn’t ask him to stay or for help putting her groceries away. She simply thanked him for the ride and hustled him out the door as quickly as possible. Rick thought he had made progress with getting her to relax around him. They were getting along great, and then… nothing. She may as well have said “don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way out”.

Closing his eyes, he decided he would try going out again tomorrow night. Maybe a different bar would inspire him to find someone. Possibly a brunette… with large eyes the color of caramel.

Fuck!

Agitated, Rick half-heartedly watched a Braves game until he was tired enough to go to bed. He stripped down to his briefs, checked his Glock 22 before slipping it under his pillow, made sure his Marine-issued KA-BAR knife was within reach on his nightstand and fell asleep, determined to put the beautiful, cock-blocking Quinn Wallace out of his mind for good.

“QUINN! HOW WAS your first few weeks of work?”

Quinn had been trying to get a cup of coffee from the break room, hoping to escape back to her desk without anyone noticing. Wincing, she twisted around to see who found her.

“Mack.” Her tense posture instantly relaxed at the sight of the friendly yet frequently bad-tempered man. He was never ill towards Quinn. He always treated her kindly and with respect. She actually found it pretty entertaining when Mack would yell at one of the burly, muscled men and they would stand there and take it without uttering a single word.

“It’s been wonderful, really. Thank you so much for taking me on.” She shifted awkwardly, so out of practice with making casual conversation that she wasn’t sure what else to say.

“No need to thank me, Quinn. It’s great to have you here. We need a woman around here to keep the guys respectable.” Mack laughed, a warm, friendly laugh that reminded Quinn of her dad.

Quinn smiled at her father’s best friend. Mack seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel appreciated and less like an annoyance. Two years with Travis and she never felt as welcome as she had in the three weeks since arriving at Sanctum.

“I should get to the front. It’s almost nine.”

“Sure, Quinn. I’ll bring you a few invoices I need entered once I get organized.”

Mack’s genuine smile left her feeling warm and fuzzy. A way she hadn’t felt since her mom died eleven years ago when she was just twelve.

Quinn left the back offices, crossing through the main gym to reach the front lobby. The space had been empty a few minutes ago, but now there was a man repeatedly kicking a large black bag on the other side of the gym. Not just any man, but what Quinn thought could possibly be the most perfect specimen of masculinity she’d ever laid eyes on. Normally, she would hurry past, not wanting to witness the violence these men could unleash, but the sight in front of her pulled her in like a magnet.

The man’s back was facing Quinn, giving her a full view of his flawless body as he executed each graceful move. Clad only in a pair of black and red fight shorts, she watched as each well-defined muscle in his back rippled, stretched, and flexed with every kick. Sweat beaded, then dripped off of his tan skin, giving her the overwhelming urge to catch each rivulet with her tongue, one by one. When he stopped to hike up his shorts, Quinn noticed a stippled scar high up on the back of one of his legs. It didn’t detract from his beauty. In fact, it only added to his rugged appeal.

Quinn was lost in her little fantasy when she realized the kicks had stopped and the room was deathly silent. Her eyes flicked up from the man’s gorgeous body to land on his face.

Uh-oh.

She found herself staring directly into the deep turquoise eyes of Rick Brennan.

AFTER NINE YEARS in the Marine Corps, seven in Special Forces, Rick had a very well developed sixth sense. He knew when there were eyes on him. It was ingrained in his training and necessary to survival in the field. Right now, the prickly feeling was sliding down his spine as he repeatedly kicked the heavy bag. He finished his reps before stopping to see who was behind him.

Turning slowly, Rick stared across the gym.

Quinn.

Even from far away he could tell she was checking him out. He’d seen that look on dozens of women’s faces before. Rick didn’t speak, deciding to let her get her fill, taking pleasure in the way her eyes raked over his chest, which was still heaving from exertion. Quinn’s gaze finally met his and he swore he felt a crackle of electricity jump between them. It took all of Rick’s effort to stop the way his dick was responding to that heated stare. Suddenly, he was infinitely thankful for the athletic cup he was wearing. At least that would spare him the embarrassment of tenting his shorts as Quinn shot lustful glances his way.