Authors: Theresa Ragan,Katie Graykowski,Laurie Kellogg,Bev Pettersen,Lindsey Brookes,Diana Layne,Autumn Jordon,Jacie Floyd,Elizabeth Bemis,Lizzie Shane
Tags: #romance
Sherri had the building wired far more than I suspected Ben-III knew. By the time my ragtag bunch of interns gathered around the conference room table, we’d been joined by a senior-level web developer, a copywriter who I’d worked with in the past and really respected, and a freelance designer.
“I’m not here.” The designer winked. “I’m currently sitting in Sherri’s planning meeting.” I suspected her budget was getting a massage as I stood there.
“Mum’s the word.” I smiled at the rest of the room. “Thanks everyone for coming.” The newbies were brought up to speed quickly, and we decided on concept art, doled out tasks, and prepared to meet at the beginning of the next week.
I left for Quinn’s with samples in hand, having almost—but not quite—forgotten the awkward moment that morning.
“I have stuff to show you.” I stood at the doorway to his office, hefting the portfolio of artwork I’d brought.
He looked up from his computer, and a quick smile brightened his eyes before fading as quickly. “About this morning…”
“We’re good, Quinn.” I’d decided on the drive over that this wasn’t ground I wanted to cover.
His phone rang, and he glanced briefly at the face. “One sec. I have to take this.”
He poked the screen and put it to his ear. I set my purse, briefcase, and the portfolio down next to the door.
Quinn’s eyes brightened, and a smile once again lit his face. Good news.
Finally.
“That’s great, Gerald. I’ll have my attorney send the papers over this morning.” Quinn signed off then leaped from his desk. Before I knew what happened, he grabbed me by the hands and twirled me around his office. “I got it!” I found myself swallowed up in a huge embrace. “Last night’s meeting went better than I realized. Gerald O’Neil is ready to sign. I only need one more investor, and the new club can be built.”
“Congratulations.”
He motioned to the materials I’d brought, the conversation about his off-hand declaration fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—forgotten.
~~~
On Thursday, he asked me about going hiking again. I called Grace to see if she was interested.
As expected, Grace was on board. But, of course, she had questions.
“So, who’s this Quinn guy, and why haven’t you mentioned him before?”
Since I wasn’t going to say “Quinn’s the man I have a huge crush on who’ll never date me because I don’t fit into his life, and I haven’t mentioned it because I don’t want you to know that and because we’re
work colleagues,”
I stuck with as much of the truth as I could. “We’ve been doing some work for Quinn’s company and, in the meantime, we’ve been working out together.”
“You? Exercise? Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”
I laughed. “Actually, my sensible eating and exercising program started about the time I got an invitation to my fifteen-year reunion.”
“That’ll make anyone take stock of their life,” she said.
“I’m not sure I’m going yet, to be honest.”
“You should. Grace paused for a long time, and I really expected a long lecture on the merits of going. But thankfully, she dropped the subject.
“So, about this Quinn person. Is he cute?”
“You know the guy who does the commercials for Mitchell Fitness?” I asked as if giving her a hypothetical.
“Heavens, yes. He’s adorable. Your guy looks like him?”
“He’s not
my
guy, and he looks exactly like
that
guy because that guy
is
Quinn.”
“Wow.” She hesitated. “Seriously?”
“You have to promise not to do anything that will embarrass me.
Anything.
Including matchmaking.”
“Would
I
do that?”
“Yes.” I took a deep breath. “And I’ll return the favor if you don’t cut it out.”
She sighed. “Yes, but—”
“There’s no but. And no playing matchmaker with Quinn, no matter how cute he may be.”
Silence on the other end of the phone had me holding my breath. I could always rescind my invitation. “Fine,” she said finally, clearly put-upon. “No matchmaking.”
“If you’re lying, I’ll never speak to you again.” I hung up the phone and should have felt smug. Instead, I felt a panic attack brewing. Giving Grace, in all her nosy, reporter glory, complete access to Quinn was an embarrassing disaster waiting to happen.
I was doomed.
I’d been dreading Friday night’s Association of Sports Professionals banquet like a trip to the dentist for a root canal. As it turned out, with good cause.
Every local high school, college, and rec-league coach, personal trainer, and most of the members of the local AAA baseball team and the ECHL AA hockey team would be there. Not to mention a good percentage of the Reds and Bengals staff and players.
But the rubber chicken and three hours of mindless conversation weren’t what I’d dreaded. It was my date.
Or rather, that my date wasn’t Katherine. I was such an asshole. If the situation were reversed, she’d never take a “face date.” For that matter, she’d never be so shallow as to find someone she cared about unfit to be seen with in public.
So there I sat with easily the most attractive woman in the room.
And I would have killed to be anywhere else.
Nothing in particular was wrong with Nicki Adams except that she wasn’t Katherine. I suspected most of the men in the room would have sold their left nut to be in my shoes.
Not me.
I’d asked Nicki more than a month ago—before I’d met Katherine. She was a friend of a friend who’d made a habit of broadcasting her availability and interest to me since we’d met. And she was exactly the sort of woman I was expected to bring.
I should have canceled and brought Katherine. I was pissed at John for putting fears about how people would view Katherine in my head, but not nearly as pissed as I was at myself for having listened.
Nicki was cute and bubbly with long, straight blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples. In great physical shape, she ran the Flying Pig Marathon every year and usually placed. She was also vapid, shallow, and spent more time looking at everyone looking at her than she did paying attention to the awards presentation or any conversation I offered.
The rotten time I was having served me right.
My one consolation was, after getting through this, at least I’d see Katherine tomorrow for our hike. She’d become an addiction I couldn’t resist. One day soon, I’d have to either commit to seeing where this thing with her was going or break it off cleanly. This half-dating, half-pretending-we-weren’t thing was bound to make us both crazy. I knew Katherine had fairly strong feelings for me. The woman had no poker face whatsoever. And my back-and-forth would only hurt her.
“What do you want to do after this?” Nicki asked between presentations, breaking me out of my own head. I looked at her, taking in the suggestive angle of her eyebrows as she licked her lips.
The implication that I could easily see her naked in less than an hour stirred me not at all.
I shook my head. “I’ve got to get up early in the morning. I’m going hiking.”
“Oh, fun! Want company?”
No!
Fortunately, my first response was only in my head.
“Uh, Nicki, I—” I cleared my throat. To come clean or not to come clean? “I’m going with friends, actually. I don’t think adding anyone else is a good idea,”
Her face fell, and she started that pouty thing good-looking former cheerleaders do when they aren’t getting their way.
I was unmoved and feeling less bad about giving her the heave-ho than I had a couple minutes earlier.
Katherine wouldn’t have dreamed of giving me the pouty thing. In fact, I’d noticed when she was unhappy with me—which happened far too often—she drew into herself and got really quiet and reserved.
“Sorry,” I said.
Nicki huffed and turned toward the apparently dateless hockey player to her right. If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to go home alone. I prayed he was a card shark.
Then I could go home, go straight to bed, and be up in time to get Katherine.
It was the only thing that help me through the rest of the night without losing my mind.
Saturday dawned clear and bright. I was tying my new hiking boots when someone knocked on the front door.
I opened it to find Quinn, looking typically gorgeous. “I thought we were going to meet at the park.”
He shrugged then smiled. “I took a chance that you wouldn’t have left yet and that you wouldn’t mind a ride.”
Mind? Was he kidding? “I don’t mind at all.” It did make this feel a bit more like a date, but I would be fine if I repeatedly reminded myself it wasn’t. “Just give me a sec to grab a bottle of water and I’m ready,” I said over my shoulder as I headed for the kitchen. Pulling two bottles out of the fridge, I then grabbed two protein bars of the type and brand I knew Quinn ate.
I grabbed my license and a twenty-dollar bill from my purse, stuck them in my back pocket, then met him at the door.
“For you.” I handed him the water and bar.
“Thanks.” He looked pleasantly startled. “I didn’t get a chance for breakfast.”
I locked the door behind us.
“We’re going casual today.” Quinn opened the passenger door on the Jeep and waited until I’d settled before closing it behind me. Moments later, he vaulted himself into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
“So what made you decide to come pick me up?” I asked.
Quinn hesitated a long moment as he pulled out onto the street. He looked over at me and then back to the road.
I stayed quiet, sensing his internal struggle. Maybe if I kept quiet, he’d tell me everything.
“I went to a banquet last night,” he started.
I bit my lip. The banquet John suggested he not take me to, I bet. Letting my silence spur him into continuing, I waited.
“It sucked,” he said. “I felt like a complete shit the whole time for listening to John and taking someone besides you.”
Jealousy shot through me in white-hot bolts. Was it too much to wish that he would’ve gone solo? I shrugged. “You gotta do what you gotta do, I guess.” Hopefully, my tone came off as flippantly as I’d attempted.
When Quinn’s face fell even further, I suspected I hadn’t been successful at all. “If it’s any consolation, I had a lousy time.”
“It’s
some
consolation.” I didn’t try to suppress my grin.
He sighed.
“Don’t beat yourself up.”
“I almost asked you, which I’m guessing you know.” He shrugged. “I’m an idiot for letting John—and the rest of the world—bully me into going against my instincts.”
The hope that thought filled me with should do nothing but make me angry.
I swiveled toward him in the bucket seat. “I appreciate that, but let’s face it. It’s not like anything is ever going to come out of this.”
“What do you mean?”
“The captain of the football team never ends up with the fat wallflower.”
“I was hardly the captain of the football team, and don’t call yourself fat.” He slowed the Jeep as we entered a residential section. “Given your experience with football team captains, that’s not exactly a compliment.” His eyes shut for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely. “That was uncalled for.”
The light turned green, and Quinn pulled forward. “I have become that guy haven’t I?”
“What guy?”
“The football captain. It’s ironic, really.”
“Why’s that?” I didn’t argue with him about the other, despite the fact I think he wanted me to.
“I’ve always thought of myself as the exact opposite of that.” He took a deep breath. “Not many people know this about me—except for John and Will, who were there at the time—but I was overweight from my elementary school days until about my junior year in college.”
My eyes narrowed on him. “Truly overweight? Or a little chubby?”
“I lost at least eighty-five pounds my junior year of college.”
My eyes went wide. “Really? Eighty-five pounds?” I tried to picture it and couldn’t.
Traffic slowed at the next stoplight, and he leaned sideways to pull his billfold from his back pocket. From a compartment in the center, he slid out a small photograph and handed it to me. “I keep this to remind me not to fall off the wagon. I know you think I’m a Nazi when it comes to diet and exercise, but I kind of have to be.”
Quinn’s sweet chocolate brown Oreo eyes gazed at me from the snapshot. The smile was similar, but not as easy. Unlike the man beside me, the boy in the photo slouched, his baggy tee shirt and sloppy jeans doing nothing to hide the fact that he was indeed considerably overweight.
Quinn flipped on his turn signal and veered left, following the signs to the Cincinnati Nature Center. He looked over at me. “You got awfully quiet all the sudden.”
I shrugged. “I think I misjudged you.” I handed the photo back to him.
A number of puzzle pieces fell into place as I figured out what made Quinn tick.
“You couldn’t know.”
Quinn parked the car then slid the picture back into his wallet. “I have to admit, since then, I’ve feared dating someone who isn’t as diet and exercise conscious as I am because I don’t want to risk falling back into my old lifestyle. I never want to feel that way about myself again.”
I sighed, understanding where he came from. He jumped out of the Jeep and came around in time to help me out. Before I could say anything else, Grace’s car pulled in next to us. My sister got out, and I made the introductions.
“Quinn Mitchell, meet my sister Grace.”
Grace gave me a look that meant she thought I’d been holding out. And I could understand that. Quinn looked particularly gorgeous in a worn pair of Levis that lovingly hugged his butt and displayed it to full advantage. His chambray shirt stretched over his shoulders and disappeared into his waistband.
I had told her who he was, though.
We walked toward the visitor center, and I grabbed a map from a display out front.
“Want to try the Far Ridge trail?” I asked.
Quinn glanced at me then met Grace’s eyes. “Why don’t we take the White Tail trail instead?”