Quinn Family Romance Collection

by Checketts, Cami

  “Sorry, Pops,” the mean-looking kid said. “We just need your office for a few minutes. Only place without cameras, right?” He winked. The display of monitors definitely didn’t show an angle of this office.

  “Now.” He turned his attention back to Bree. She could hardly stay on her heels. She was so overwhelmed by weakness and terror. “Where’s our stuff?”

  Bree shook her head, but the hand on her mouth stayed firm. The door to the office burst open, and Jasmine strutted in. There was no denying it was her sister. She was the most beautiful person Bree had ever seen. They looked very similar with their fine bone structure, large brown eyes, and full lips, but Jasmine’s hair was straight and hung down almost to her waist. She was a few inches shorter than Bree, and she looked tough. Her muscular shoulders were revealed in a fitted sleeveless red dress, and spike heels showcased her lean legs.

  “Looking for me, boys?” She arched an eyebrow playfully, and then she moved. Wow, did she move. Two of the boys came at her. Jasmine was a blur of fists and legs. Her body whipped and contorted. Bree was in such a state of shock she stopped struggling and screaming and just stared. Why was her sister taking them out? How was she able to take them out?

  One boy fell to the ground whimpering and scuttled away from the fight. Jasmine had the other one in a headlock. He went limp in her arms, and she dropped him and pointed to the two holding Bree. “Don’t make me wait.”

  They released Bree and hurled themselves at Jasmine.

  Bree scurried back toward the wall, but the small leader moved in on her, pointing his knife at her abdomen. He sliced through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped and flinched away from him.

  “Don’t move.”

  Bree heard the battle raging behind her, but she could only focus on the punk with his knife closing in on her. She wasn’t anywhere near as tough as her sister, but she’d been in her share of fights growing up in foster care and sometimes being in rough schools. She brought both fists down hard on the kid’s wrist and heard a satisfying crunch, a squeal, and a clatter from the knife falling to the ground.

  Bree bent quickly, sweeping the knife up and pointing it at him. “Don’t move,” she said. He held on to his wrist and glared at her with such hatred she almost took a step back. She steeled herself and glared back.

  “Nice,” she heard Jasmine say. Bree risked looking away from the kid to see Jasmine standing over the other four boys. “I didn’t want to give them the drugs anyway.” She winked. “I’ll just take this trash.” She wrapped an arm around the leader’s neck and dragged him toward the door.

  “Wait!” Bree hurried after her. “I’m your sister!”

  Jasmine’s eyes focused on her face. She frowned and then nodded. “Good to see you, sis. Can you cut that guy free so he can deal with these punks?”

  Bree glanced at the security guard. She strode to him and used the knife to slice the rope binding him to the chair. He stood, pulled off the duct tape on his mouth, and pushed a button. Sirens blared. Bree dropped the knife on his desk and put her hands over her ears. She turned to Jasmine. Her stomach dropped and despair rushed in. Her sister was gone.

  Chapter Six

  Ryder waited and waited and waited for Bree. He’d settled Tate into bed and set up camp in one of the overstuffed chairs in Tate’s room, hoping that he’d hear his son talk in his sleep and hoping that his beautiful speech therapist would return to them soon. As her boss, couldn’t he have demanded she stay with them tonight? He would’ve happily taken her out to a restaurant, the theater, a basketball game, anything to keep her with them. Even if it meant dealing with paparazzi and all the attention they would get. He could almost read the headlines now: Ryder Quinn, finally back in the dating game. If only he could date Bree. He shook his head. She was his employee, and he’d known her two days. He couldn’t be this invested already, but the past two days had been some of the best he could remember. Bree was a light and a joy that brought fresh air to his damaged heart.

  His watch beeped, and he glanced at it. It was after midnight, and finally, she was at the gate. He wanted to meet her at the garage door, on the driveway, maybe even sprint down the driveway. He held himself in check. She would think he was nuts if he came running at her. Had her date gone well? Did she like the guy? What if she had a serious boyfriend? There’d been no ring, so at least she wasn’t engaged. Then there was the way she’d hugged him this morning. She couldn’t have a boyfriend, could she?

  He waited with baited breath and finally heard the garage door rise up and then down and the door into the mudroom open and close. He’d go lock it later, after she was safe in her bed where she was supposed to be. He could hardly imagine how his teammates would laugh at how smitten he was with this woman. Nobody teased him much. They had enough class that they wouldn’t make fun of a widower, but they were tough, experienced men. Most of them had women clinging to them everywhere they went, and when he explained to one of the defensive ends, Beau, that he’d only kissed one woman in his life, the guy’s eyes had bugged out of his head. Ryder had no experience, and he’d been okay with that. But if he could be more of a ladies’ man, more suave and smooth, would he have a chance with Bree?

  He heard a mumbling coming from the bed. All thoughts of dating Bree fled as he jumped to his feet and crept as quietly and quickly as he could to Tate’s huge bed. It was at about chest level, and his eyes were adjusted enough to the nightlight he could see his son’s small outline clearly. Tate was curled into a ball, and even though he was speaking quietly, it was extremely clear. “No, Mama. Don’t go. No! Don’t go.”

  The sadness in the words ripped at him, but the fact that Tate was speaking filled him with joy. He hadn’t doubted Bree, but to hear it with his own ears was incredible.

  Tate repeated the same phrases over and over again before he settled down. The door opened softly behind Ryder. He glanced over his shoulder. Bree. She looked absolutely gorgeous in that floral sundress. He didn’t think, he simply rushed to her, grabbed her and pulled her in close, whispering fiercely, “I heard him! He speaks.” Tears clogged his throat and rushed down his face. He should’ve been humiliated to have Bree see him cry, but he couldn’t hold it in. Eight long months without hearing his son’s voice. Tonight, though the phrases he repeated were their own type of torture, Tate had spoken. It was insane and beautiful.

  Bree clung to him. When she pulled back slightly and glanced up at him, she had tears on her own face. Their connection deepened. Only Bree would be empathetic to shed tears with him. He wanted to bend down and claim her lips with his own. No, this wasn’t the time.

  He glanced back at Tate’s bed. All was quiet. Escorting Bree with one arm around her waist, he walked with her through the door and out into the wide hallway. Softly closing the door, he turned to her. It felt so right to have her close and to share this miracle of Tate speaking with her.

  She wiped at the tears on her face and stepped back, away from him, but not before he caught a whiff of a strong cologne. No, it was body spray, like something a teenager would wear, not her usual soft, clean scent. She’d been with another man, and here he was clinging to her as if they were a couple. He was an idiot.

  “I’m so glad you heard him,” she said.

  His thoughts swung back to Tate, and excitement rose within him. “Thanks. It was amazing to hear his voice.”

  She nodded. “I’ll bet.” She backed another step away. “I’d better get some rest.”

  It was then that he noticed her dress was ripped. He could see some of her smooth abdomen through the gap. His eyes widened, and he moved closer. “What happened? Are you okay?”

  “I …” Her face crumpled, and she wept.

  Ryder didn’t know what her date had done to her, but his mind spun with worst case scenarios. He was going to find the guy and rip him apart. He pulled her in tight to his chest and simply held her. Her arms came up underneath his and around his back. She clung to him like he was her lifeline.

&
nbsp; Ryder savored the connection, the warmth and rightness of having her in his arms, but he was so angry at whoever could’ve ripped her dress like that and made her cry. Why had he let her go tonight? He’d thought his desires to keep her home were all selfish, but obviously, he’d wanted to protect her, and he’d failed.

  Finally, she pulled back and wiped at her face. “I’m sorry. I’m a mess.”

  “Who hurt you?” he asked. “I’ll find him.”

  Bree blinked up at him. Her dark eyes were lustrous. He wiped a tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. She started at his touch, and her gaze dipped to his lips then back up again. He shouldn’t want to kiss her when she’d been with someone else and was so obviously distraught.

  “You won’t find him,” she murmured. She backed away, shaking her head. “It’s a mess. I’m sorry. I need to go.” She hurried past him and into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  Ryder stared at the closed door for a long time. Was Bree involved in an abusive relationship? How could he help her? He finally shook his head and padded back into Tate’s room. He’d never let himself sleep by his son, trying to help him be somewhat independent and not wanting to start a habit that would be hard to break. Tonight, he curled up on the bed by Tate, listening to his son’s soft breathing, letting it soothe him, wishing Tate would talk again, wishing Bree would talk to him. His new employee was messing with his mind.

  Chapter Seven

  Bree must’ve cried herself to sleep because she awoke to her blaring alarm. She shut it off, not caring if she worked out today, and curled back into a ball. She was still trying to process what had happened last night. She’d found Jasmine, and then her sister had rescued her and disappeared again. The police were able to arrest three of the boys, but one slipped away, and Jasmine had taken the leader with her. The policemen didn’t share any information with Bree about her sister, though she had begged them to throughout the long interview process. She had a horrible feeling that Jasmine was involved in something nefarious.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to think about it, but it was almost worse finding her sister and being terrified that she was unsafe and possibly a criminal. Yet watching Jasmine fight … Bree thought she must be highly trained. She could definitely take care of herself. Maybe she wasn’t unsafe at all. How could Jasmine see her and so casually say “Good to see you, sis” before disappearing again? Obviously, Jasmine had no desire to reconnect, but Bree missed her horribly and would do anything to be in her life again. She was the big sister, and she was supposed to take care of her.

  She must’ve drifted off to sleep because the sun was shining brightly when she opened her eyes again. Two blue eyes stared at her, and she jumped and screamed. “Tate!” His eyes got wide, and he backed away like she’d scared him as badly as he’d scared her. She slipped out of bed and knelt next to him, opening her arms. He came willingly and hugged her. “Oh, Tate, sorry. You scared me, buddy.”

  Her door burst open, and the large version of Tate rushed in. “You okay?”

  Bree stared up at Ryder. He was sweaty in a tank top and sweat shorts. He looked simply incredible. Had a man ever been as appealing as Ryder was to her? She stood and lifted Tate into her arms.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she would bet her eyes were red, and she probably looked horrible. She pushed her hair away from her face and clung to Tate.

  Ryder’s gaze carefully swept over her. The room suddenly got hotter. The tension between them was growing, and she wasn’t sure how to keep their relationship professional, living in such intimate quarters with him and his adorable little boy.

  Ryder shoved a hand through his short hair, and Bree’s breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. His bicep muscle flexing like that made her long to feel his arms around her again. She had to get under control. So they’d hugged a couple of times. It didn’t mean anything. He was a grieving widower, and she was his employee.

  “I’m worried about you,” he said.

  “You’re worried about me?” She glanced down at Tate then up at him. “Why?”

  “Last night. Your dress was torn. You were so upset.” He peered closer at her. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  Bree wondered if she should confide in him. He was so kind and seemed to care. But then a different fear rose. If she told him the story of last night, would he ask her to leave? He was ultra-protective of his little boy. What if he thought her sister being, whatever Jasmine was, would bring unsavory characters into his and Tate’s lives? She would never want any harm to come to Ryder or Tate, but she still wanted to find her sister again. What if Ryder found out about her rough past and her sister’s rough present and asked her to leave?

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Tate and I will go get breakfast. You finish your workout.”

  He studied her long enough she had to fight not to squirm. She held his gaze and tilted her head to the side, challenging him to dispute her. Finally, he shook his head and stepped back. “I’ll finish up and then come watch Tate so you can work out and shower.”

  “Thank you.” He was such a good guy, so thoughtful. If only she could cling to him and Tate and simply enjoy being with them. Yet she had to find Jasmine again. It was a deep need that she’d had the past fourteen years, and now that it was in her grasp, she couldn’t ignore it any longer. Especially since she’d had a small taste of how amazing, terrifying, feisty, and worrisome her sister really was.

  * * *

  Ryder watched Bree closely throughout the morning, but she seemed to be holding herself in tight control. He hated this Peter guy and wondered how to ensure Bree wouldn’t go near him again.

  Just before lunch, he was dealing with emails and sponsorship requests in his office while Bree worked with Tate in the living room. She insisted on using the comfortable space so Tate would be relaxed. His phone rang, and he swiped it open, pushing the speaker button. “Hey, Brian.” He liked his agent. The guy was efficient and no-nonsense.

  “Hey. You all set for tonight?”

  “What’s tonight?” Ryder clicked on his calendar on his computer. A bachelor auction at The Rosecrest Mansion. Why hadn’t he gotten a notification?

  “The bachelor auction? You committed a couple months ago.”

  “Yeah. I see it now.” He stood and jammed a hand through his short hair. A bachelor auction? What had made him commit to something like that?

  “It’s for Little Lambs. They support foster care,” Brian said as if guessing his thoughts. Ryder was a sucker for anything that helped children, and Brian knew it. “It’s no worries, man. You put on a tux, eat a nice meal, and smile while they auction you off. Then next week, on Valentine’s Day, you take a pretty lady on a date. Easy.”

  It sounded horrible. Auctioning him off like cattle? Going on a date with anyone other than Bree? But he gave huge donations to Little Lambs every year, and he knew this was a big fundraiser for them. How could he say no? It was two nights of his life that could change children’s lives completely.

  “The media is pretty stoked about you being there. You know, since you haven’t dated … for a while.” Brian had too much class to say what everyone probably thought. Jessica had been gone for eight months, and he should at least try to start dating. If anyone knew the truth about how lame his marriage had been, they’d really think he was nuts for being a recluse. But all his attention was focused on Tate, and he hadn’t wanted to risk bringing a woman into their lives. Bree sauntered into the office with her big hair framing her delicate face and Tate’s little hand in hers. Until now.

  She smiled. Her dark brown eyes sparkled at him. “You ready for lunch? I want some of those fajita leftovers. Yummy.” She did a cute little dance with her hips.

  “Hello?” Brian said from the speaker phone.

  Bree put a hand to her lips. “Sorry.”

  “You’re great.” Ryder reassured her. “I’ve got to go, Brian, but I promise I’ll be there tonight.”


  Brian blew out a breath. “Thanks. I was worried you know.”

  “No worries. Talk to you soon.” He ended the call and stood, striding toward Bree and Tate. Bree’s clean smell wafted over him, and her smile was welcoming and happy. Whatever had happened last night, she seemed to be recovered and be her happy self again. Maybe that was just her unconquerable spirit—nothing could keep her down.

  He bent and swooped Tate into his arms. “Lunch, little man?” he asked.

  Tate clapped his hands and nodded, grinning.

  Ryder shifted Tate to his left arm and put his right hand on Bree’s lower back. Warmth and tenderness rushed through him. He felt like a complete family with both of them close. He’d never had that with Jessica and hadn’t realized how much he’d craved the feeling. Having Bree here was a lot of dreams coming true, dreams that he’d never dared hope for.

  They walked to the kitchen. He set Tate down, and they started pulling out food from the fridge, fajita leftovers and sandwich fixings for Tate and cut-up fruit.

  Ryder wanted to just stay with these two always. He didn’t want to go to some bachelor auction tonight and have a cleat-chaser bid on him and have to go on a date with some unknown woman. Especially on Valentine’s Day. Couldn’t he just donate money? He groaned inside. He always tried to follow through with his commitments.

  He glanced at Bree as she assembled a steak fajita. What he wouldn’t give to go on a date with her. He’d take her somewhere crazy fun. He wondered if she’d ever been to an amusement park. He’d buy her a beautiful dress and take her to a fancy dinner. He’d have one of his siblings come and watch Tate. The wheels were spinning so fast he wondered if he could make it all work with the auction looming over him.