Friendly Fire (Ricochet 2)

“Another agency?” Rick asked, making air quotes around the words. “Like the CIA?”

Tucker’s fingers finally stopped. The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Maybe. I can neither confirm nor deny the identity of the other agency.”

Rick laughed. “Riiiight. No worries. I’m going to get in a quick workout.”

“Your girlfriend just left the parking lot,” Tucker said flatly, motioning towards the screen showing a real time view of the front of the gym.

Rick frowned. “She’s not my girlfriend.” Is she? “And she’s allowed to do what she wants. Besides, I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

Tucker held up his hands. “Hey man, if it’s on the cameras, I’m going to see it. Remember that.”

Rick grunted. “Well, don’t fucking spy on her, dickhead.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Whatever.” Tucker’s head was back down, fingers flying over the screen again.

Instead of smacking the back of Tucker’s head like he wanted to, Rick decided to hit the heavy bag for a while. His repaired side felt much better and after chatting with Tucker, he was annoyed enough to be motivated.

The entire time he was punching and kicking, he thought about what Tucker said. Was Quinn his girlfriend? Rick never had a girlfriend before. He never wanted one.

This time? He wanted to say yes. He wanted to claim her and for everyone to know it. Maybe his brother’s pep talk worked. Rick smiled as he decided he would see what Quinn thought about that when she came over later, and to his utter surprise, he couldn’t wait.

Chapter 10

Was it possible to be more nervous than you’ve ever been in your life, yet unbelievably excited at the same time? Quinn decided it must be, because that’s how she felt as she drove towards Rick’s condo. Her heart was thumping wildly and her palms were slick on the steering wheel. Determined to remain calm, she made a mental grocery list to keep her mind occupied.

The next thing Quinn knew, she was standing in front of Rick’s door. Blinking hard, she realized she had no idea how she got from the parking garage to this spot. It was reminiscent of the few times she would get in the truck to go somewhere and completely space out, only to arrive at her destination unable to remember any part of actually driving.

I’m losing it. He’s just a man, Quinn. A good man. One who won’t beat the crap out of you because he didn’t like the dinner you cooked or the way you said ‘hello’.

Steadying herself, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

As soon as it opened, it revealed Rick, casually dressed in jeans and a navy, short sleeve burnout tee. His usual heavy black boots were gone, his feet bare on the dark hardwood floor. Every worry Quinn had evaporated the minute she looked up at his handsome face. She felt hot, too hot considering the air conditioner was on full blast, blowing out into the hallway where she stood.

“Come on in.” Rick stepped back so Quinn could enter. The door closed behind her and she felt his hand on her lower back. Rick gently spun her around to face him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Do I get a kiss?”

Quinn laughed at the adorable smirk he flashed her. “If that’s what you want.”

“Oh, I want that and a whole lot more, doll, but I’ll start with a kiss.” One of his hands slid up the curve of her back to rest at the nape of her neck. Because outside it was a humid day in the middle of a long Georgia summer, her hair was swept into a loose updo. The few pieces that escaped were curling down around her face.

Rick pulled her in as he tipped his head down, brushing his lips across hers lightly. She tried to deepen the kiss, her hands going behind his back to fist his shirt. Quinn could feel him smile against her mouth, and gasped as he slowly licked her bottom lip, sucking on it seductively.

“Rick...” Quinn shuddered when he released her lip and stepped back. She immediately missed the warmth of his body against hers, the comforting scent of his woodsy aftershave, the wet heat of his mouth and tongue.

Rick chuckled at her obvious displeasure. “After dinner, doll. First, let me feed you.”

Quinn enjoyed her dinner immensely. Rick had prepared everything himself, which was yet another first. Never before had a man cooked a meal for her, not since she was old enough to fend for herself. They fell into a comfortable conversation, as if they had known each other for years instead of months. She threw questions at Rick at lightening speed, not only because she wanted to know everything about him, but also because she didn’t want to discuss her own history with Travis.

“So you have two brothers?”

“Yep, both older.” Rick took a sip of the beer he was holding, his expression giving away nothing.

“Do you still talk to them?”

He shrugged. “Some, not as much as I should, probably.”

Quinn shifted on the couch so she could face Rick, their knees bumping together. “Why not? I don’t have any siblings. I think if I did, I’d want to talk to them all the time.” She remembered wishing for a baby sister when she was younger, someone to play with and share girly secrets. Maybe a sister would have talked some sense into her, made her see what a loser Travis was before it was too late.

Before she could let herself get swept away on the what if train of thought, Rick responded. “My dad… he’s pretty, ummmm, opinionated.”