Ricochet (Locked & Loaded #1) (7 page)

“If I could just talk to Mack, he’ll know where I need to go,” the pushy young man in an unzipped red hoodie said for the third time.

“I know.” Quinn held up one finger. “Let me just get this call.”

Frazzled, she snatched up the receiver. “Sanctum MMA, this is Quinn, can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Brandi. I need Dane, please.”

“I’ll transfer you.” Quinn rolled her eyes sky high before pushing a button, sending the caller directly into Dane’s voicemail. Two weeks at the front desk and she was fast becoming tired of being used as Dane’s personal slut secretary. Several times a week a different woman with a ridiculous name called and asked for him. Quinn used to try and track him down, but after a week of that bullshit, she started sending the girls directly into his voicemail.

“Sorry.” Quinn focused her attention on the young man. “What did you need again?” She swiped a stray lock of hair back behind her ear.

The tall blonde man smiled, flashing a flawless set of white teeth and two adorable dimples. “Mack. He’s waiting for me. He just took me on as a fighter. He set me up to train with a Muay Thai expert.”

Quinn couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man’s sculpted chest, which was right at eye level from her chair behind the desk. “Ummmm, sorry.” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. “Who did you say you were?”

“Chase Hadley.” He further undermined Quinn’s ability to think rationally by removing his sweatshirt, revealing a very tight white tank top underneath, which showcased what could only be called a perfectly sculpted, museum quality torso. Somehow, she felt he was doing it on purpose.

“Right, sorry. I’ll just, ummmm, get Mack. Okay.”

Her fumbling made Chase’s eyes light up and his smile broaden. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

Chase leaned his elbows on Quinn’s desk, putting his face about a foot away from hers. She tried to huff her disapproval at being called cute, but it came out more as a squeak. “I’m not nervous.”

Quinn shoved her hands under her desk to wipe her damp palms on her jeans. Before Chase could call her out on her lie, the inner door opened and Rick stepped into the lobby. Quinn watched as his brilliant eyes flicked from her to Chase and back. A small furrow formed between his brows and his mouth turned down at the corners.

Okay, now? Rick looks scary.

Rick strode right up into Chase’s personal space, forcing the younger man to back away from Quinn so he could greet Rick.

“Hey man, I’m Chase. Are you the Muay Thai expert?”

She noticed that Rick grudgingly accepted Chase’s outstretched hand. He snapped at the young man as he answered. “Yeah, that’s me,
kid
.” Quinn flinched at Rick’s harsh tone. She’d never heard Rick be anything but polite.

Realizing that she no longer needed to be part of this conversation, Quinn decided she could sneak away for a bathroom break. Plus, there was way too much testosterone in the lobby and she didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

Quinn pushed back from her desk, circling around it to reach the locked inner door. Rick and Chase’s position in front of her desk forced her to walk past them, her arm brushing against Rick’s as she went. The contact made her gasp, causing both men to stare at her strangely.

Quinn tilted her head up to apologize and found Rick glaring at her with cold, harsh eyes. It was such a frightening stare that Quinn forgot what she had been about to say. Her mouth went dry and her skin broke out in prickly goose bumps. Freaked out, she hurried to the door, swiped her card, and ran down the hall to the women’s bathroom.

Quinn locked herself in a stall and leaned back against the door.

What just happened?

Rick seemed abnormally angry, and not just at her but at Chase as well. Quinn swallowed down her nerves and willed her thrumming heart to slow down. Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. She frowned. It was very likely he woke up in someone else’s bed this morning. Jealousy streaked through her, unwelcome and frankly, very confusing.

She quickly used the bathroom and washed up. By the time she walked back to her desk, she was even more annoyed by Rick’s hostility. If he wanted to be a jerk, then that was his problem. Quinn was done bending over backwards trying to make unreasonable men happy. She suffered through two years of that with Travis and eighteen years with her dad before that. She was never going back to living that way.

As she passed by the door to the men’s locker room, she could hear Rick’s voice loud and clear, and he did not sound happy. More eavesdropping— Quinn decided there must be something wrong with her to constantly find herself listening in to Rick’s conversations. Maybe she was a stalker?

“Like I said kid, Quinn’s off limits, got it? She’s like family to Mack and I’m not going to let anyone hurt her. So dial back the bullshit and keep it professional. Understand?”

Shocked and embarrassed, Quinn hurried back to her desk before anyone could catch her spying. She slumped into her chair, worn out from the crazy day.

Rick seemed to think Chase was flirting with her. Was that why he was angry? She bristled at Rick inserting himself in her personal life. He went out and fucked a stranger last night. What the hell business was it of his who flirted with her? Not that she’d ever take Chase up on it, but Rick doesn’t know that. Quinn knew she was in no shape to date anyone, even a charming blonde cutie with dimples and a perfect body.

Or a hot, aqua-eyed fighter who gets on my nerves and is a total player.

Whatever. Quinn’s head was beginning to ache. She refused to worry about Rick. If he wanted to be angry with her for Chase’s flirting, then he could just be angry all by himself. She shut down her computer and retrieved her purse, relieved to be done for the day.

The remainder of the week went by quickly, Chase came and went every day, acting polite but distant. Rick stayed back in the gym, so Quinn only saw him in passing here and there. They exchanged casual hellos, but that was it. It was better that way, she knew it. She had been getting too close to Rick, and her heart couldn’t sustain another bad relationship.

By Saturday, Quinn had cabin fever. She needed to get a beat up old car or check the bus schedule at some point. Being confined to the gym or her apartment was too reminiscent of her life back in Texas. Now that she was free to go wherever she wanted, Quinn intended on taking advantage of it. There were a few places she could walk to, but not many. Atlanta was definitely not a walking city.

Since she couldn’t really leave, she threw on a sports bra and a pair of shorts, figuring she could at least get some exercise. Plus, a workout would help her focus on something other than Rick’s hard muscles and chiseled jawline, not that she hadn’t used every opportunity possible to check him out this past week. For someone who swore to stay away from the sexy, dangerous, heart-breaking Rick Brennan, she was doing a terrible job of it.

She shook her head, setting her radio to a hits station. Quinn started with push-ups, then progressed to jumping rope, a routine she used to do in Texas without telling Travis. He would have beaten her if he knew she was exercising behind his back. He wanted to keep her weak and dependent. The thought made her push harder, work to be stronger, to never allow a man to control her again.

About twenty minutes into her workout, Quinn had worked up a good sweat and was starting to feel the natural high as the endorphins flooded her body. She stopped to grab a sip of water when she heard a knock at the door.

She froze.

Her old friend fear reared its ugly head again, clenching tight in her gut, forcing her heart to race and her breathing to pick up. The same paranoid thoughts that plagued her since she left Texas filled her head.
Is it Travis? Did he find me? Will he finally kill me?

Even sweaty and hot from her workout, chills broke out all over her body. A voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Doll. It’s Rick.

RICK SMILED AS he stood on the small landing just outside of the tiny apartment above Sanctum. He could hear loud music playing inside, some top forty crap. What was Quinn doing— dancing, singing, cleaning while dancing and singing?

The locks disengaged and the door swung wide open. Rick nearly choked on his tongue at the sight in front of him. Quinn was standing on the threshold with a light sheen of sweat on her body, her hair pulled into a high ponytail, and wearing only a tiny blue sports bra and a pair of shorts so small they couldn’t possibly be legal to wear out in public.

Holy hell, I’m going to croak right here on her doorstep.

“Rick. What are you doing here?” Quinn’s amber eyes shone, but her face looked confused.

“Ummmm,”
Jesus
. He couldn’t think with her half naked and within arms length, it was too damn distracting. Her pale thighs were smooth and toned. All he could imagine was having them wrapped around his waist. “I uh, I mean… shit. I was going to bring you to the store again. If… if you wanted, I mean.”

Damn, I sound like a complete and total idiot.

Quinn’s already flushed cheeks turned an even darker shade of crimson as he stammered in her doorway. Her eyes cast downward until she was staring at her own feet. Rick marveled over how long and thick her eyelashes were against her pale skin. Her lush pink mouth captivated him as she licked her lips nervously.

This was a bad idea. His dick had a mind of it’s own whenever he was around Quinn and it was beginning to throb inside his jeans. He hadn’t gotten off since the pathetically unsatisfying experience on Sunday night and jerking in the shower at work and his cock was taking notice.

“You came here just to see if I needed another ride?”

Once again, when Quinn’s shy but pleased gaze lifted to Rick’s face, it hit him like a punch to the gut. He’d seen his share of beautiful women, hell, he’d
had
his share of beautiful women. But nothing he’d seen in his twenty-eight years would ever compare to the absolute perfection of Quinn Wallace.

Mesmerized, Rick could only nod.

The small smile she rewarded him with made his discomfort totally worth it. Like another hit of an addict’s favorite drug, Rick would probably give anything to see her smile more often. Quinn always looked sad, weary. Giving her a little bit of happiness, if only for something as simple as grocery shopping, seemed like a fair trade for a constant, aching hard-on, the inability to enjoy his usual no strings sex, and never ending mental torture.

“Yeah, I came to see if you needed another ride. Is that alright with you, doll?”

Quinn’s gorgeous face relaxed, her smile becoming wider. There were those adorable crinkles around her eyes again. “Yes, it’s fine. Let me just throw on a shirt. Uh, come in and just… wait here.”

He was pleased that she finally stopped telling him not to call her doll. She was a doll,
his
doll. Rick watched her tight ass as she scurried off to what he assumed was her bedroom. He groaned at the thought of her and her ass anywhere near a bed. As surreptitiously as possible, he adjusted his painful hard on.

Get your shit together, Brennan.

Minutes later, Quinn emerged with a small pink shirt pulled over her sports bra. She was still wearing the tiny, cheek hugging shorts. As he followed her out of the apartment, her delectable back end swaying with each step, Rick wondered if he had lost his fucking mind.

Chapter 7

AFTER RICK UNEXPECTEDLY showed up at her place again on Saturday, Quinn found herself looking forward to seeing him at work on Monday, which was totally unlike her. The old her anyway, the one Travis broke. Rick was a lot of fun, he was easy to be around, and he said cute things that made her feel warm inside, like “doll” and “be good”. So what if he was a charmer, or enjoyed random sex? He wasn’t her boyfriend. She could be friends with him without caving to her desire to find out first hand what Rick was like in bed.

Resigned to the friend zone, where it was safe, Quinn was able to let herself be more comfortable around Rick. He gave her the confidence to be free again. She breezed through the front door of the gym, smiling the entire way to the break room.

“Quinn, you look good today.”

Sitting at the table was Xander Vega, one of the fighters that she found incredibly intimidating her first week at Sanctum.

Was that only three weeks ago?

Who was she kidding? She found
all
of the fighters intimidating. But after speaking with Xander several times since then, Quinn decided that he was a great guy. In fact, all of the guys at Sanctum were pretty awesome. Big and threatening looking, yes, but gentle and kind and respectful whenever they spoke to her. They really were a family here, looking out for each other all of the time. It felt good to be a part of that. She was almost okay with watching them train, as long as they were hitting equipment and not other people.

“Hi Xander. Thanks. I think I finally know what I’m doing around here. You’re probably just noticing the fact that I’m not walking around confused all the time.”

Quinn brewed a pot of coffee, pouring herself a cup when it was done. She quietly stirred in two sugars before taking a sip.

“Maybe,” Xander finally said. His sharp gaze focused on Quinn, scanning her up and down. She shifted uncomfortably, but knew that he wasn’t being pervy. He was trying to uncover the source of her giant smile.

“I’ll figure it out, Quinn. You can’t hide it from me.” He tapped his finger on the side of his nose as he studied her.

Quinn smirked at Xander, taking another sip of coffee. Her silence made him laugh. He pushed up from the table, crossing to the door in three large strides.

“You’re a trip, Quinn. I gotta go. I have a client in five minutes.”

“See ya, Xander.”

He waggled his fingers over his head without turning back.

Quinn leaned against the counter, thinking back to her weekend with Rick. He was a perfect gentleman on Saturday, taking her to the store, opening doors for her, helping her carry her groceries up to the apartment. Well, a perfect gentleman if you don’t count the few times she caught him staring at her ass and the fact that he flirted like he was training for an Olympic event.