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Shit! Remember Quinn, you need to take care of your baggage first. Divorce, then dating. Rick deserves that if nothing else.
Mara’s pointy shoe connected with Quinn’s leg, causing her to startle. She snapped out of her daydream, realizing she had been blatantly staring at Rick’s mouth… again.
Quinn turned to Mara, mouthing “thanks”, grateful to be saved the embarrassment of being caught gawking.
Her friend’s shoulders shook as she laughed to herself. Quinn was pleasantly surprised that the rest of the meal went off without a hitch. Everyone fell into comfortable conversation, with no awkward silences or weird moments between her and Rick. It was almost like it was before she screwed everything up. When they were close friends and he would drive her to the grocery store. She missed having that with him. How he took care of her, worried about her well-being, her safety, her happiness. Rick went out of his way to prove to Quinn that not every man was a controlling douchebag.
Dinner ended with Quinn volunteering to clean up the kitchen since Mara cooked. She was elbow deep in soapy water when she felt a familiar warmth at her side.
“Need help?”
She jumped, splashing water out of the sink.
“Oops.” Quinn looked down to see dozens of soap bubbles clinging to her shirt.
Rick chuckled, the vibration of his voice going straight to Quinn’s core, stoking the embers of desire she still felt for the beautiful man. “Here, I didn’t mean to startle you.” He took a towel and wiped at the soap, brushing over her sensitive nipples.
Her reaction was instant. Her skin flushed, heat racing through her veins, sparking life into every nerve ending. Quinn’s breath picked up, becoming embarrassingly loud in her ears. Her eyes were once again drawn to Rick’s mouth, the way the pale pink color reddened as he bit his teeth into his bottom lip as he concentrated on cleaning her up.
God she wanted to suck that lip into her mouth and run her tongue over the teeth marks.
At some point, Rick realized that he was basically pawing at Quinn’s breasts with the towel while she gawked at him. She watched as an adorable blush spread up his neck. His hand dropped to his side, clutching the towel in his fist.
“Sorry. Shit. I didn’t mean to—”
The tension was too much for her to bear. Rick squeezed his eyes shut as if he was having the same difficulty as Quinn in controlling his body’s reactions.
“It’s fine. No worries, Rick,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Why don’t you dry for me, since you’re so good with that towel.” Rick laughed, the rich sound immediately dissolving the thick tension that hung in the air. Quinn let out a long breath when her attempt at humor worked.
“I am good, aren’t I?” He grinned, accepting the plate she handed over, quickly drying it and putting it in a cabinet.
They worked in a comfortable silence until all of the dishes were clean and put away. Quinn still felt the energy pulsing across the three inch gap between their bodies, she’d have to be dead not to. But if Rick wasn’t going to say anything, then she wasn
’t either. There was no sense in ruining the moment by vocally discussing their very obvious lust for each other.
Just get your divorce, Quinn. Then you can act on it if he’s still interested.
Quinn dried her hands off, hanging the small towel on the handle of the oven door. Rick was leaning with one hip against the countertop, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the ground.
She could practically see his brain working. His sharp mind piecing together whatever it was that he wanted to say. Quinn decided to pretend she didn’t notice Rick’s struggle, taking a step to move around him towards the great room.
“Quinn.” Rick spoke softly, his normally honeyed tone taking on a soft, gruff vibration that she could feel all the way down to her toes.
She stopped, not wanting to turn around, but ultimately respecting Rick enough to face him head on. Quinn nearly broke at the sight before her. This proud, strong, fearless man looked broken and lost. Eyes that had sparked with humor during dinner now shone with despair. His seductive lips were turned down in a pitiful grimace. Rick opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he tried again and still nothing came out.
The true extent of what she had done to this man weighed down on Quinn heavily. Or maybe he just had his own demons he was facing. Either way, it seemed that Rick was just as tortured and confused as she was. Reaching out, she took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
“Rick,” she swallowed loudly, her heart thrumming in her throat. “I—I have to fix myself, things… things about me.” Quinn inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself enough to speak. “I’m sorry. I am. I want to be with you, I just—” Confessing her need for him was probably a mistake but Quinn couldn’t help it. Her feelings were too strong and her resolve was too weak. She sniffed, her lip trembling as she held back the tears that made her vision blurry.
Right before her eyes she watched, as Rick seemed to make a decision. The pain and confusion previously harbored in the deep turquoise vanished. What replaced it sent a shiver throughout her body. It felt as if her nerve endings awakened and desire flared up inside her. That look, she recognized it on his face. Rick wanted her. Desperately.
“Listen,” Rick couldn’t, or wouldn’t, mask his longing as he stared at her. His lustful gaze sent hormones zinging through her bloodstream. “Why don’t we have lunch tomorrow. We can talk then. Now—” his eyes shifted towards the great room where Mara and Clint could be heard laughing, before returning to Quinn, “now isn’t the time for this discussion.”
She gave a small nod. At the very least, she owed him a chance to talk about everything, and frankly, she wanted to talk too. “Tomorrow?”
He sighed, sounding relieved that she agreed. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up. Noon okay?”
Rick carefully slid a hand up over her cheek, cupping the side of her face, the depth of his feelings conveyed through his gentle touch. Ocean-colored eyes searched hers, looking for something—what — Quinn didn’t know.
