Flashing out with her elbow, she forced it into his soft—although that was definitely a relative term considering the hard muscle that covered every inch of him—middle. Without waiting for a response, she reared forward before slamming her head against his chin.
Jace let out a wheezing groan, collapsing toward her. His already folding body probably protected him from the full impact of her skull. His arms loosened around her, finally letting her free.
But her relief was short-lived when he fell to his knees on the mat beside her before keeling onto his side. One arm wrapped around his middle, he rolled onto his back. His eyes screwed shut in pain.
Quinn dropped to his side, her knees smarting when they hit the mat.
“Jace. Oh, my God, are you okay?”
He let out a tortured sound that had her heart thumping erratically in her throat. He was clutching his side, the one with his good kidney. She hadn’t thought about that when she’d jabbed.
What had she done?
Scrambling for his shirt, she tried to lift it out of the way so she could see, although she really had no idea what she was looking for.
He’d taken several body shots the other night during the fight. It had been easy to forget when he’d been acting as if he was totally fine, but maybe he had been badly injured and she’d made it worse.
One moment she was kneeling beside him, the next her back hit the dark blue mat and all the air whooshed out of her lungs.
The world spun, not just from her change in position, but from the sudden loss of oxygen.
But it only took her a few seconds to recover. And when she did it was to look up into Jace’s wide, mischievous grin.
“Never, ever, trust your attacker. Or stop to make sure they’re okay. Once you get free, run.”
His body pinned hers to the floor. The heavy weight of his thigh pressed against her hip. The hard wall of his chest loomed above her. The muscles in his arms bulged on either side of her head.
She wanted to twist her head and bite him. And then lick him.
Suddenly, the temperature in the room changed. Or maybe the heat was coming from her own body.
Her gaze snagged on his mouth. She wanted it on hers, wanted to feel his lips nibbling her skin.
Jace groaned, only this time it had nothing to do with pain.
“Don’t look at me that way.”
“What way?” she asked, her voice breathy.
“Like you want to devour me.”
“Maybe I do.”
His arms began to tremble. She relished the quiver, visual confirmation of his reaction to her.
“Not here,” he growled.
Shifting beneath him, Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck and used the leverage to pull herself flush with him. Finding his mouth, she teased, “Why not?”
“Because there are too many eyes.”
Distracting him with a full-blown kiss, she wrapped her legs high around his thighs and then surged against him. Jace dropped back to the mat, letting her roll on top of him.
She kept them connected through the entire move, unwilling to give up the delicious taste of him on her tongue. Her hands roamed across his chest and down his hips. Drawing her knees up his thighs, she straddled him and then finally pushed away.
Sitting astride him, she delighted in the way he looked up at her, dumbfounded, his icy-blue eyes a little glazed.
From across the room someone whistled. She ignored them, instead putting her entire focus into Jace beneath her.
He felt so strong and solid, covered with ropy muscles. But he wasn’t, because he had a weakness that not even his strength could guard.
“Did I really hurt you?”
“No,” he answered slowly. Too slowly.
“Jace,” she said in a warning tone.
“I’m still a little sore from Friday.”
“Then why the hell did you ask me to hit you?”
Shifting beneath her, Jace moved her backward until she was perched on the hard ridge of his thighs. He rose, wrapping his arms around her waist and back to keep her snug in place.
They sat there on the floor. Jace watched her, his gaze intense as always. But there was something more. This close, she couldn’t miss the subtle emotions playing across his features.
Possessiveness, need and something softer.
“Because there was no way I was letting anyone else put his arms around you.”
Threading her hands into his hair, Quinn tugged at the strands. “Silly, frustrating, incorrigible man. What am I going to do with you?”
“Take me to dinner? Mom and Dad asked me to bring you by when they found out what’s been going on.”
Panic filled her. She wasn’t ready for that. Hell, she didn’t know what she and Jace were doing yet. How was she supposed to act in front of his parents? Michael’s parents.
They’d always loved her. And she loved them.
Scrambling off Jace’s lap, Quinn found her feet. Her gaze darted around the cavernous room, but there was nowhere to go.
“Hey, relax,” Jace said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back into his chest.
She couldn’t push away from the comfort he offered, not when she was so full of turmoil.
Burying her nose in his chest, she asked, “What are we going to tell them?”
She felt his body stiffen as he finally realized what had spooked her. Part of her regretted the words, but as she opened her mouth to take them back, he relaxed again.
“Nothing. Quinn, this is none of their business. They’re worried about you and just wanted to see you. We’ll go have dinner, just like we’ve done a thousand times before. Everything will be fine.”
She hoped he was right, but even as they left the gym, heading back to his place so they could clean up and change, Quinn wasn’t so certain.
9
HIS MOTHER DIDN’T bother saying hi. Practically before the echo of the doorbell had rung through the house, she had the door jerked open and Quinn wrapped tight in her arms.
“We’re so glad you’re okay,” his mom said.
Quinn threw him a startled look before wrapping her arms around his mom and joining in the hug.
“I’m fine, Naomi. It’s nothing.”
Pulling back, his mom gave them both a scowl before ushering them into the house. As always, she was a whirlwind of activity. Taking coats, motioning them to the sofa even as she scolded.
“It isn’t nothing. Jace told us this man is a real threat. What I want to know is why we had to hear about it from him.”
A guilty blush crept up Quinn’s cheeks, but she kept her gaze steady as she responded, “Because I didn’t want to worry you.”
His mom made a harrumphing noise before heading to the open archway leading through to the kitchen. As soon as her back was turned, Quinn threw Jace a scowl of her own. No doubt they’d be discussing her displeasure later.
Not that he really cared.
His parents loved Quinn. His mom, especially, worried about her whether there was a physical threat or not. They considered her their daughter and he knew the hurt that his mom was trying to hide was very real. It bothered her that Quinn didn’t turn to them for help when she needed it.
Although, he didn’t think Quinn turned to anyone for help, so his mother really shouldn’t take it personally.
From the back of the house, his dad appeared, wiping his hands on a towel. No doubt his mom had pulled him out from beneath the car engine he’d been working on in the garage so he could wash up before they arrived.
He clapped Jace across the shoulders and leaned down to kiss Quinn’s upturned cheek. “Hi, Sam.”
“Beautiful as always, Quinn. Hope you’re hungry. Naomi’s been fussing in the kitchen all da
y preparing your favorites.”
Of course she had been. His mom was quintessentially Southern and felt there was no better demonstration of love than copious amounts of food.
“Y’all get your drinks,” his mom called from the kitchen.
The heavenly scent of pot roast, mashed potatoes, corn pudding and yeast rolls filled the room. The warmth of the oven hung over them, making the air feel damp and close.
The table was small, just a four-seater. It was all that would fit in the space and all they’d needed growing up. Unfortunately, it also meant that when he sat, his knee bumped into Quinn’s thigh, sending a thrill of awareness jolting up his spine.
From her quick inhale she’d felt the same thing, which didn’t do much to help his frame of mind.
Jerking his attention to his mom, he caught her narrowed, shrewd eyes watching him. Suddenly, he felt like a wayward teenager trying to get away with lying to his mother. Something he’d never managed. And not because he was a terrible liar.
She’d just been that tuned in to the domain she ruled with a soft smile and an iron fist.
Quinn’s freak-out over coming tonight hadn’t been great for his ego. Not that he necessarily wanted to confess to his mama that he’d slept with Quinn, at least not yet. But the fact that she’d practically come unglued at the idea of his parents finding out...
It had hurt, even as his brain told him it shouldn’t.
He’d wanted her for so long, it was hard not to want to crow like a rooster and tell the entire world now, even if he knew it wouldn’t last.
Quinn was right to be wary. He needed to get control of himself and his reactions before his observant mother put the pieces together and realized what he’d done.
So they sat through dinner, making small talk about their lives. Jace told his parents he’d taken leave, but let them think it was to watch over Quinn instead of prepare for his fight. His mom already had enough to worry about. The fight was over and he was fine.
Besides, he didn’t feel up to a scolding.
Together, they explained the situation with Warren and he assured everyone—including Quinn—that he had her covered and nothing was going to happen.
After dessert, his dad stood up from the table, rested a hand across his shoulder and said, “Come out to the garage. Let me show you what I’ve been working on.”
There was a part of him reluctant to leave Quinn in the house, even knowing that she’d be perfectly safe.
Looking at her, he quirked an eyebrow in silent question. If she wanted him to stay, he’d find a way to refuse. Or sweep her along with them.
But the small smile she gave him silently told him she’d be fine.
With a few simple gestures and less than thirty seconds, they’d had a full conversation. It was something he’d seen her do with Michael. Something he’d envied, the ease of their connection.
A band tightened across his chest, squeezing painfully as he pushed up from the table and followed his dad outside.
The garage was a separate building at the back of the half-acre lot behind the house. There were two bay doors and a short drive leading up from the alley that ran behind the tidy row of houses.
Sometime before his parents had bought the house thirty years earlier, the previous owners had added a single car garage to the side of the house and a drive leading up to it from the road. That was where his mom parked.
This building had become his father’s. And as they’d gotten older, a place for Jace and Michael to come and pretend to be the men they weren’t quite yet. When he was home, his father had taken them both out there, teaching them everything he knew about cars.
Some guys, growing up with a father who was more absent than present, might have become jaded or bitter. But not Jace. Or Michael.
Maybe it was because when his father had been home he’d given them his full attention. Spent time with them. Punished them when they needed it and lectured when he was disappointed in them. It was enough to keep them in line.
Rolling up the door to the first bay, his dad stood back and let him take in the beauty that was the vintage Mustang. The car was the kind of machine no one made anymore. Beautiful lines, sturdy structure and a lightning-fast engine.
Admiring her bright red paint, Jace could imagine finding a deserted country road and letting the engine open wide, wind whipping through his hair and adrenaline pumping into his blood.
“She’s amazing, Dad. Looks like you’re almost done.” This had been his dad’s project for the past eighteen months or so. Jace had seen the car many times. He’d also watched his dad slowly transform a piece of junk into a masterpiece several times in his life. But it never got old. “You going to sell this one or keep her?”
Shaking his head, Sam ran a loving hand over the curve of the hood, almost as if he was actually caressing the powerful engine hidden beneath. “Not sure yet,” he said, but Jace could hear the reverence and longing lurking in his deep voice.
Oh, he was keeping this one. And Jace was glad. His dad had put hours of blood, sweat and tears into plenty of cars. All of their vehicles were always in top running condition, because his father wouldn’t allow his wife and sons to drive something that could fail and leave them stranded and vulnerable while he was several states away with no way to help.
But the man had always insisted on driving an old beat-up car whenever he was home. The thing ran just fine, but was never much to look at. Michael had asked him once, when they were younger, why he never kept any of the cars he rebuilt for himself. His dad had responded that he didn’t need anything flashy, especially when the cars he rebuilt and sold for a nice profit could provide safety and comfort for his wife and sons while he was gone.
Those words had stuck with Jace for years.
Turning, Sam let his hips settle against the hood, arms crossed over the massive barrel chest not even age could take from him.
“So, tell me the truth, how much trouble is Quinn in?”
“Enough. Warren’s a nasty guy. We filed a report when he broke into her place, but until he does something more there isn’t much the cops can do. Especially since the man is connected. He’s dangerous.”
“I never would have expected it from him. The man has a sterling reputation.”
“Sure, he was careful to cultivate that image. According to his wife, his squeaky-clean public persona is an act, and not just with her. Quinn told me about some of her injuries and scars, and it chills me to the bone.”
Just talking about it had rage rising in his gut. Part of him hoped Warren would be stupid enough to take another run at Quinn just so Jace would have a reason to beat the shit out of him.
The rest of him hoped the tightening net of protection around her was enough of a deterrent to keep Warren far away.
Unfortunately, his instincts told him that wasn’t very likely. Quinn was the quickest way to Caroline.
“Apparently, he’s also been using his legitimate businesses and charitable donations as a front to launder money for a crime syndicate up north. Quinn’s told as much as she knows to the police already, but it isn’t much. They’re trying to untangle the money trail, but without help... And Caroline is too scared to testify right now. They’re hoping with some time and distance she’ll come around. But I don’t know how long Quinn is willing to wait for Warren to be locked up. She’s already champing at the bit to get back to work and it’s just not a great idea.”
“That girl always was impetuous.” Sam’s words might have sounded like disapproval, except for his soft tone. His voice was filled more with exasperation and acceptance than anything else.
“She definitely tends to put everyone else above self-preservation.”
“Always has.”
They both nodded. His dad’s gaze dropped to a spot on the concrete floor. A comfortable s
ilence stretched between them. That was the great thing about his dad, he didn’t need to fill the moment. Maybe it was all the time Sam had spent in the cab of his truck, just him and miles of blacktop.
“So.” His dad cleared his throat. “How long have the two of you been together?”
Jace nearly choked on his own tongue. Jerking up from his perch on the work bench, he forced words past a strangled wheeze. “What are you talking about?”
With his right hand, his dad scratched absently behind his left ear, effectively blocking his expression from Jace. “You and Quinn. How long have you two been seeing each other?”
His heart thumped erratically beneath his ribs. “We see each other about once a month.” But his dad already knew that.
“That’s not what I’m talkin’ about and you know it.”
Pushing off the car, his dad closed the distance between them. The man was tall, but still a couple of inches shorter than Jace. Although those inches didn’t mean a damn thing when he set both hands on Jace’s shoulders and stared straight into his soul.
“Your mother and I’ve both known for a while that you care about her, son. She’s a good woman, the kind any man would be lucky to have in his life.”
Jace just nodded. He couldn’t do more with the heavy lump stuck in his throat.
“Whatever’s going on between you, just know we want you both to be happy. And if that’s together...” His voice trailed off before continuing. “Well, that would make your mama and I happy. Michael, too, if he were here.”
The lump traveled, expanded.
“She doesn’t have a daddy of her own, and for the last few years I’ve thought of her as my own. So don’t take this the wrong way, son. But if you hurt her I’m going to have to hurt you. But don’t worry. I have a feeling your mama’s having pretty much the same conversation with her.”
Jace groaned inside his own head. Great, Quinn was going to be even more wary now.
His dad slammed a heavy hand between Jace’s shoulder blades and pulled him close.
Gruffly, he murmured, “I know you won’t let anyone else hurt her, either.”
Testing the Limits Page 11
