The Mighty Quinns: Thom (7 page)

“How is that possible?”

Malin lined the plates up in front of him, then held up her phone to take a photo. “Smile,” she said. She took one picture, then told him to give her a thumbs-up for the next. “Now pick up that chocolate doughnut and take a big bite out of it.” She snapped one last photo, then showed Thom the results. “I like the thumbs-up best.”

“Me, too,” Thom said.

“Now we have to compose the tweet. How about, ‘Breakfast of champions. Doughnut Nirvana. Hashtag off-season.’”

“Hashtag?”

“It’s just a little thing you add for humor. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you eat like this during the season.”

“And now you post it?”

“Not yet. We’ll do it after we leave or else there’ll be a swarm of people here trying to get your autograph.” Malin laughed. “Oh, look, you have another five hundred followers.”

He shook his head. “Are you sure we ought to let the team know I eat doughnuts for breakfast?”

Malin smiled. He was starting to think strategically. “It’s all in good fun. And it helps you appear a bit more approachable.” Malin plucked a strawberry-filled doughnut off the plate. “When did you meet Nora?”

“We were in foster care together. She came to me when she wanted to start the bakery, and I bought the building for her. As long as she’s paying me back, I get free doughnuts.”

“That was nice of you,” Malin said. “And it’s a wonderful story. People should hear it.”

“No, it’s just something I did for Nora. There wasn’t a bank in the city who’d lend her money. She had a criminal record and they said she was too much of a risk. But she proved them wrong, and the bakery is doing really well. Nora is happy.”

“If you want to vanquish The Beast, people are going to need to see the softer side of you.”

“I don’t like to expose that side,” he said. “It’s usually easier to be The Beast.”

Malin felt a surge of frustration. There were moments when Thom was ready to shed the old image, to toss it off like an armor he no longer needed. But then he’d draw it back on again, ready for the next battle. Would she ever be able to get him to shed it completely? Maybe not, but Malin was determined she’d at least shine it up a bit.

They nibbled at the rest of the doughnuts and gave Nora a list of their personal favorites. Malin took a few more pictures with the owner, then warned her that there might be a sudden influx of customers over the next week.

As they walked out of the shop into the early morning light, she showed Thom how to post the tweet and then pulled up the picture. He slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your stitches look good,” he said.

“I need to take a shower and wash my hair,” she murmured. “And then we have that appointment at the salon.”

“You’re not going to do something weird with my hair, are you?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Dye it or give it some of those bleached highlights.”

“No. Just a cut. And while we’re at it, I’d recommend some decent shaving products and a good razor. And a skin care regimen. And a manicure and pedicure might be nice.”

“Oh, no,” he warned. “I’m not getting my nails painted.”

“They don’t do that for men. And don’t write it off so quickly. I think you’d enjoy it.”

When they got home, Malin checked her tablet again. To Thom’s surprise, he had comments on his photo from the bakery. “Here’s one,” she said. “This is from Twin City Tribes. They’re kind of a sports gossip site. They have about a million followers. Look, they’ve commented on your picture. ‘Bad boy Tommy Quinn has breakfast with—’” Malin stopped short, then shook her head. “Oh, hell.”

“What?” Thom asked, sitting down beside her on the sofa.

‘“Bad boy Tommy Quinn has breakfast with mystery blonde,’” she said.

“How did they know you were there? You’re not in the picture.”

Malin tapped the screen a few times, then pointed to a stainless steel napkin holder on the table. “And there I am. My reflection, clear as day.”

“I wouldn’t say that was clear as day. You can’t really tell who it is.”

“You can tell it’s a woman,” Malin said. She stood up and began pacing. “I know better than this. Always check the photo. Enlarge it. Examine every square inch.”

“Can’t we just delete it?” Thom asked.

“No, that would only call more attention to it,” Malin said. “We just have to let it play out.”

“I can just post another message saying you’re just a friend.”

“No, you don’t engage in conversations or arguments with your followers. Rule number one.”

“I thought rule number one was check the photos carefully.”

“What if my father sees this?” Malin said. She shook her head. “What am I talking about? I’m the one who usually shows him this stuff. He’d never look at it on his own.” She sighed. “We should be safe. We’ll just need to be more careful.”

“Give me that thing,” Thom said, grabbing her tablet from her hands. “Delete it right now. The whole thing. This is just too much pressure.”

“No, it will be fine,” Malin said. “We’ll post a picture of your new haircut this afternoon, and the mysterious blonde will be forgotten in no time.”

Thom wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her into a fierce hug. “You’re the boss, boss. But, just so you know, I have no intention of forgetting the mysterious blonde.”

4

“I
WANT
YOU
to open your mind to new experiences,” Malin said as she pulled into the alley behind the salon and day spa. “Forget about what men are supposed to look like and just enjoy yourself.”

“They’re going to cut my hair,” Thom said. “I think I can handle that. Just as long as they don’t put all that crap in my hair after they’re done. What do they call that stuff? Product. No product.”

“Open mind,” she repeated.

“So I’m just supposed to let you have your way with me?”

“I let you have your way with me,” she said, glancing over at him as she brought her car to a stop. “Fair is fair.”

“So, if I do what you say this afternoon, you’ll do what I say tonight?”

“Don’t push your luck,” Malin said.

“I always do.”

She got out of the car and waited for him at the back door of the salon. She’d arranged for the full slate of beauty services for him, but she’d decided to hold off on telling him the rest of the plan until she was sure he could handle a makeover.

Malin’s friend Amy met them at the back door and brought them into a private area in the rear of the salon, which was set up for clients who preferred a purely private experience. Amy brought them over to a sofa and handed both Malin and Thom a spa menu. “What can we do for you today?” she asked.

“I’m here for a haircut,” Thom said, holding the menu out to her. “Just a basic one.”

Amy’s eyebrow shot up. “You don’t want to have a little fun? Wait right here.”

“What does she mean by
fun
?” Thom asked.

“Why don’t you pamper yourself? Have a massage or a facial. You definitely need a pedicure. And as long as they’re working on your feet, they can do your hands. Your nails are a mess.”

“I’m a guy,” Thom said. “I’m supposed to be a mess.”

“But we’re working on a new you. A more
together
you. It’s important to look the part.”

“No one is going to see my feet.”

“It’s summer. You don’t wear flip flops?”

Amy reappeared with a tray holding two champagne flutes and a carafe of mimosa. She poured a glass for each of them and smiled. “Now, what’s up first?”

Thom downed the first mimosa, then refilled it and downed a second. “You’re in charge,” he said to Malin.

She smiled. She’d expected him to put up more of a fight, and she was happy that he trusted her enough to go with her plans. Though she had to wonder what he’d try to take in return. A tiny shiver skittered through her body at the thought of them back in the privacy of his bedroom, and her mind began to form her own menu.

“Let’s start with a manicure and pedicure,” she said. “Then we’ll do a facial and a shave and finish off with a haircut and style. And if he isn’t crazy by then, we’ll consider a massage at the end.”

“How long are we staying?” Thom asked.

“As long as it takes to get the last of the beast out of you,” Malin said.

“I thought we were seeing some stylist, too.”

“If we can fit it in, absolutely.”

“Changing rooms are back there,” Amy said. “Grab a men’s robe and get comfortable.”

Thom grinned and stood, then held out his hand to Malin. She glanced over at Amy, a blush warming her cheeks. “You don’t need me to help you change,” she murmured.

“If I’m going through all this, you’re going to do it with me. Come on. Let’s get you into a fancy robe.”

Reluctantly Malin followed Thom to the changing rooms. She hadn’t planned to indulge herself today, but if it made things easier with Thom, then all the better. Once he found out where they were headed after their morning at the spa, he might not feel as pleased with her.

She reached for the door of the changing room and slipped inside. But at the last moment, Thom followed her, leaning back against the door to close it. He reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head, then tossed it on a nearby chair.

“What are you doing?” she murmured, her gaze fixed on his muscular torso.

“Changing,” he said. “Am I supposed to be completely naked under the robe?”

Malin swallowed hard. “No, no. You can leave your underwear on.”

He kicked off his trainers, then unzipped his cargo shorts and let them drop at his feet. Though she’d seen him naked earlier that morning, she’d forgotten the effect his body had on her senses. Malin fought the impulse to reach out and hook her finger in the waistband of his boxer briefs to draw him closer.

“Do you need some help?” he asked, his eyebrow arched.

“With?”

“Removing your clothes?”

She drew in a sharp breath and shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” Malin grabbed a men’s robe from the stack and shoved it at his chest. “Why don’t you just go ahead and get started. I’ll be along in a minute.”

Thom grinned and wrapped his hands around her waist. “I’m thinking this could be fun. It sure as hell is something I’ve never done before. And it’s nice, just the two of us, together.”

He pressed her back against the wall of the changing room and pinning her hands beside her head. Then he kissed her roughly. His body slid up against hers, and she could feel his shaft growing hard with every moment that passed.

It was difficult to remember that they hadn’t yet made love. In truth, they hadn’t done much more than kiss and touch each other. And yet they were completely comfortable shedding their clothes—at least, he was.

But she had to remember that they were in a public place, and both of their reputations were on the line.

“We can’t do this,” she murmured as he caught her bottom lip between his teeth. “Go.”

“I think you’d better go first,” he said with a low chuckle. “I need to calm down.”

She glanced down to his erection straining at the fabric of his briefs. “Look at what you’ve done!”

“Me? You’re the one to blame for that.”

Malin quickly stripped out of her clothes and tugged on a robe, then opened the door. “You stay right here until that—” she waved her hand in the direction of his crotch “—that...problem is gone.”

Of course, Thom didn’t do as he was told. Instead he shoved his hands in the robe pockets and held the thick fabric over his lap as he walked out, hiding his desire from anyone who might suspect.

Two young women waited at the pedicure chairs, but Thom held back, his expression perplexed. Deciding to lead by example, Malin crawled up onto the chair. She stuck her feet into the deep basin of hot water and sank back into the massage cushions. Finally he joined her, careful to tuck his robe shut over his lap.

“I’m sitting on a throne,” he muttered.

Malin handed him the massage controls. “Put your feet in the tub,” she said.

“What’s in the water?”

“Schools of piranhas,” she teased. “They’ll nibble at your feet until they’re all smooth and pretty.”

Thom looked down at the aesthetician, and she shook her head. “It’s just soap and essential oils.”

“Great,” Thom muttered. He snatched up a magazine from the rack beside him and opened it, then glanced at the cover. “I guess they don’t have
Sports Illustrated
?”

Amy appeared with a stack of reading material that included both sports-and-fitness and fashion titles. “Happy?” Malin asked.

“I’m in a state of bliss,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Malin giggled. Though he protested, he did as he was told and, after a few moments, seemed to relax. Once again, Thom had surprised her. She’d assumed he’d be his usual beastly self with the public. Then again, every time she thought she knew how he’d respond, he found a way to surprise her.

Malin had often wondered what kind of man it would take to captivate her for an entire lifetime. The notion of finding a mate who could keep her interest for fifty or sixty years seemed like an impossibility. And there were so many different qualities she sought in a man—humor, kindness, loyalty, wit, intelligence...so many qualities that she’d convinced herself she’d never find her perfect match.

And yet here she was, with a hockey player burdened by a huge chip on his shoulder. A man who’d describe himself as self-destructive. A man who’d probably never had a normal relationship with a woman in his life. But beneath the grit and grime that he used as a shield, there was a very special man.

“You’re right,” he murmured.

She turned her head to find him smiling at her. “I am? About what?”

“My feet were hideous.”

“I never said that. I just recommended the pedicure.”

“They were hideous. But look at them now.” He pulled a foot out of the water. “All pretty and soft.”

“Kissable,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Well, that would be something new.”

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. After all the women he’d been with, Malin had wondered if there was any sexual territory he’d left unexplored. And now she knew there was. “You’re telling me that you’ve never had your toes sucked?” she asked.

“I’ve never been much of a foot person,” he said. “Giving or receiving.”

She sighed and shook her head. “So much you’ve missed out on. I guess you’ll just have to be educated.”

He reached out and took her hand, pulling it to his lips. Then Thom drew the tip of her little finger into his mouth and gently sucked. “I’ve always been an excellent student.”

With a quick glance at the spa attendants, Malin snatched her hand away.

* * *

T
HOM
HAD
NEVER
had to work too hard at wooing women. They always seemed to just appear in his life when he wanted them, ready to accept whatever he was prepared to give them. Sometimes, that was nothing more than a night in bed. Other times, a vacation. But it never lasted more than a week or two.

But later that afternoon, he found himself in a designer suit, silk tie and finely pressed shirt. Though a suit was standard wardrobe for travel to and from every hockey game, the clothes in Thom’s closet didn’t sport any designer labels. Many of his teammates spent their money on tailored suits and Italian shoes, but Thom had never put any value on such overpriced affectations. Expensive clothes didn’t make him a better hockey player or a better man, so what purpose did they serve? They were a waste of money.

He glanced over at Malin. She was peering at a computer monitor, quietly discussing the last round of photos they’d taken with her stylist friend. They’d been stuffing him into various monkey suits for almost three hours, and his patience was beginning to wear thin. At the spa, she’d refused even to touch him, and since they’d arrived at the stylist’s, he might as well have been a mannequin for how brusquely Malin treated him.

Though she’d explained that her friend, a local menswear designer, needed a celebrity model for some fancy magazine shoot, he hadn’t expected to be dressed and undressed like a freaking doll for the entire afternoon.

Cursing beneath his breath, Thom loosened the tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt as he walked away from the backdrop. “I’m done,” he said.

He strode back to the dressing room where he’d left his regular clothes, anxious to shrug back into a skin that felt comfortable. Malin followed after him, her heels clicking on the tile floor of the photo studio.

“Thom, we just have one more look. I know this is a lot of hurry-up-and-wait, but I promise you that it will be worth it.”

He rounded on her and she stopped short, nearly crashing into his chest. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because we can use these photos for your social media. So people can see you in a different light.”

“People? Or you?”

“Me?”

“If you don’t like the man I am, I’m not going to change just because I put on a fancy suit and shiny shoes.”

“This isn’t about me,” Malin said.

“Isn’t it? I think you’d like to see me as a man your father would respect. All these plans to fix me up have nothing to do with my job. I’m still going to get traded and have to leave my family. But you’ll get what you want.”

She stared at him, her mouth agape, then shook her head. “Take the suit off. We’re done. I’ll make our excuses to Francesca. We can leave as soon as you’re dressed.”

She stalked out of the dressing room, slamming the door behind her. Thom closed his eyes. He knew she was hurt and disappointed, and surprisingly it killed him that he was the cause of that. But she couldn’t just order him around like some compliant little puppy. What would be next? It was better to remind her that he’d never change, before her expectations got completely out of hand.

He reached up to pull off the tie, then stopped himself. He’d never been a quitter. And it wasn’t as if this photo shoot was physically taxing. All he had to do was stand around and look “natural.” Though how that was possible wearing some of these clothes, he wasn’t sure. Plus, he did like Malin’s friend, and he wanted to help her career.

Thom rebuttoned his collar and fixed his tie, then headed back out into the studio. But as soon as he finished this photo shoot, he and Malin were going to have a serious talk about her plans to remake his image.

Everyone turned as he walked back into the studio, silently watching him as he retook his place. “Sorry about that,” he murmured. “What do you need me to do?”

“I think we’re done with this look,” Francesca said. “Why don’t we move on to the last one and we’ll try to get you out of here quickly.”

“No worries,” Thom said. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Malin walked to the rack of clothes, and Francesca handed her a cluster of hangers. Malin headed for the dressing room, not even glancing his way. He found her there, her attention fixed on straightening the laces on a pair of black sneakers.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“These pants and this shirt,” she said. She held up a box. “And these shoes with no socks. Francesca wants to redo your hair, so don’t freak out.”

“I didn’t freak out,” he muttered. “I’m just tired of standing around doing nothing.”

“This process takes time. The photos could be blown up to billboard size. We want them to be perfect.”