Friendly Fire (Ricochet 2)

“Alright. I’ll be there before eleven on Sunday.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hardy.”

She hung up, staring blankly at her phone.

“Something wrong?” Rick reached out as if to comfort her, but made a face and pulled his hand back.

“No. Nothing big. I have to sign something at my lawyer’s office. Probably for my dad’s estate.” Quinn felt ill at how easily the lie fell from her lips. No way was she going to explain her divorce to Rick right now. Not until it was over and done with, and even then, she wasn’t sure how much she would want to share.

“Oh. Okay.” His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “On a Sunday?”

She shrugged. “I’ve met them on the weekend before. I guess they have a lot of work to do, so there’s always someone there.”

Quinn watched Rick begin to reach for her, then hesitate. He was obviously unsure of what he should do next. She didn’t want him to be uncomfortable touching her. Heck, she wanted his hands on her as much as possible. Once again, Travis was ruining her life and this time managing to do it from almost a thousand miles away.

Well, screw Travis. I want to be with Rick, so that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not going to deny myself anymore.

She took a step forward, closing the distance between their bodies, pressing against Rick until they were joined from chest to hips. His tight muscles loosened under her touch. Rick lightly skimmed his hands up her back until they were buried in her long hair.

Her head tilted up to find a sad look in his beautiful blue eyes. As his mouth descended onto hers, Quinn felt confused by Rick’s grave expression. When their lips met, her eyelids became heavy despite her racing thoughts. Her lids fluttered shut, their mouths softly sliding together in an emotional kiss that brought up more questions than it answered.

Rick broke apart first. “I should get going. You probably have stuff to do and I don’t want to—”

“Wait.” Quinn held onto Rick’s arms as he tried to pull away. Her pulse raced through her veins. This was harder than she thought it would be, asking what was wrong, why he was so sad. She couldn’t do it. Chickening out, she asked him about his plans instead. “Can I… I mean, what are you doing later?”

Quinn didn’t miss the look of surprise that flicked across Rick’s face. “You’re asking to see me? Like, a date?”

The smirk on his lips let Quinn know that he was teasing her, and she was glad to see his mood improve. She went along with his joking instead of being embarrassed and insecure like she normally would. Feeling brave, she met his playful smirk with a wide grin. “Yes, like a date.”

Rick dipped his head again, pulling her into a deep kiss, needy and with purpose. This kiss was much more passionate than the tender one he gave her a few minutes ago. Rick groaned when Quinn’s lips parted, letting his tongue swirl around hers, drawing it into his mouth. She kissed him back with equal enthusiasm, nipping at his lips, running her hands over his rough morning stubble, unable to get enough of him. The tension between them had melted away, both of them comforting each other with their hands and mouths.

When they finally parted, it was only because they needed to breathe. Rick’s mouth was swollen and wet from Quinn’s kisses. The way he was looking at her caused desire to burn deep inside. She had to steady herself by gripping Rick’s arm, wobbly from the power of that kiss.

“I’d better go,” Rick said, his voice gravelly.

“Okay. I’ll call you later?”

Quinn followed Rick to the door where he stopped to finish their conversation. “Why don’t you just come to my place when you’re done? I’ll text my address to you.”

She didn’t mention that she already knew where he lived and had already been to his condo in a very non-stalkery way. No need to make anything weird since they finally managed to tear down the barriers between them.

She smiled, “Sure. I’ll see you around six then?”

He gave her a final quick peck on the lips. “Definitely.”

Rick decided to stop by the gym downstairs for a quick workout before heading home. The place was empty, but Tucker’s Jeep was still out front, hogging the same two spaces he pulled into earlier.

The door to Mission Control unlocked with a soft click when he put his code in, letting Rick into the climate-controlled room. Computers of all types and sizes combined to create a low hum that buzzed in his ears.

“Hey Rick.”

Tucker sat in his usual chair, Bluetooth over his ear, as he scanned three separate computer screens and watched two camera views at the same time. The man’s fingers slid rapidly over a touchscreen, pulling up sites and typin

g in data faster than Rick’s eyes could keep up.

“I didn’t know there was an operation today.” Rick put his hands on his hips, his gaze flicking between the different screens in front of him.

“There’s not. Well, not a real operation. It’s more like we’re helping out another agency.” Tucker continued furiously typing, never looking up at Rick as he spoke.