by Kaily Hart
“Let me guess. What happens in boot camp, stays in boot camp?”
Smart ass. And quick. Ward held back a smile. Barely. “First, you—”
“Do not talk about boot camp?”
He struggled to keep the smile under wraps this time for real. Ward couldn’t remember the last time someone had made him laugh, let alone smile. And a stranger? A woman? Never.
“Just… Go fill out the forms and we’ll get started.”
Christ, she could figure it out as they went. They’d pretty much exhausted the limit of his chitchat skills anyway. Besides, what the hell had he done to make her think she could make small talk with him or even talk to him at all? Most people got the message loud and clear, why not her?
Ward watched her walk past the waiting group, give them a wave and a smile—all while his gaze was fixed on the curves of her ass.
He’d been instantly attracted to women before, plenty of times. Had acted on that attraction just as many times. But this? With her? Quinn? This was the first time he’d been drawn in by a woman’s personality, her sense of humor, her mind for fuck’s sake. Of course, the ass wasn’t bad either.
Man.
He was used to being in control of every aspect of a situation. He was used to being able to sum up a person in an instant, to take charge of any scenario and have things go his way. He was used to people—especially women—allowing him to do just that. Every. Single. Time. So what the hell just happened, because that’s not what went down with Quinn. Not even close.
* * * * *
Quinn ducked her head and tried her best to look as if she knew what she was doing. While not breaking anything—including herself—or face planting it into the fragrant grass. Oh look, a lady bug. There really was a whole world down there under all those blades.
“Focus, Quinn. Butt down.”
Right.
Her lower back still burned where he’d rested his hand to push her bottom down when they’d started doing the push-ups. Geez, push-ups. She’d actually done push-ups and had the aching, trembling arms to prove it. Just as she’d figured, this exercise was as hard as it looked.
And nothing got past him. Ward. From the flyer. She’d assumed a model, some kind of stock image, something, but no…it had been a picture of him and here he was in the flesh and God…what flesh it was. She snuck a glance as he walked up and down the line of women all somehow managing to do perfect push-ups and making it look elegant. And somehow effortless. He was a solid wall of fluid muscle. And newsflash, she didn’t think there were that many muscles in a human body that could be visible all at once. He wore a t-shirt that molded to his thick chest and arms and even under the thin, loose track pants she knew every inch of him would be ripped, solid. The thin fabric clung to powerful thighs as he walked. The way he sometimes stood with his arms crossed only emphasized the size of his biceps, the width of his chest, his muscled forearms.
Dark whiskers covered his jaw and lean cheeks, as if he hadn’t shaved anytime recently. They were the dark, sexy ones that said he probably knew how good they made him look. He wore a black skull cap and mirrored sunglasses for God’s sake, the sexy, aviator-style ones. Before today, she would have bet the sun couldn’t possibly be up at this time. Who knew?
He was six foot four of rugged muscle and moody attitude. He looked tough and mean and… God, who was she kidding? She dealt with tough and sometimes mean on a daily basis and he was in a completely different universe entirely. He looked like sex, that’s what, the rough, rugged, you-know-you’re-gonna-be-on-the-bottom type. Of course the surly, get-out-of-my-face look was on in full force. That she recognized from the flyer as well.
He also had a slight limp. She wouldn’t have noticed it except everything about him was power and precision, mobile and fluid, concise and controlled. Except that. It was a weakness, a vulnerability that was a total shocker from a guy who oozed strength and bad-assery. And if that wasn’t a word, it should be. She’d personally lobby Webster to add it with his picture.
Quinn tried to ignore the tremors in her arms and tried to zero in on a spot right in front of her in some God awful hope that might be helpful. Unfortunately, it was directly in her line of vision. Quinn had noticed the large dog when they’d done some laps of the park and wished she could take a breather and lay in the grass under the trees too. She knew it was probably her imagination but she didn’t think the animal had taken its eyes off her.
And so it went. Quinn doing her best to look as if she might possibly know what she was doing without permanently damaging anything important. Quinn attempting to keep up with the group at some level so she didn’t appear totally lame. And Quinn trying to follow Ward’s sharp, barked orders while ignoring the urge to slap something or someone.
She let out a deep breath when the session ended with a cool down and stretch. She’d made it. And she was still alive. Sort of. Although she’d be interested to hear what her muscles had to say about that later.
“Great workout, Quinn.”
Quinn almost choked on her own tongue and the laugh that somehow managed to strangle itself out of her throat.
“Something funny?”
Any normal person would have just muttered something unintelligible and left it at that, especially when he was standing over them with that scowl, the dark eyebrows in a slash. Too bad she’d never been anyone’s version of “normal”.
She shrugged as she got to her feet, doing her best to ignore the odd twinge and legs that felt like overcooked spaghetti. “Just…you know…not exactly words I ever would have thought to hear in this lifetime.”
He laughed. It wasn’t a full throw-your-head-back-laugh-out-loud laugh, but he smiled and forced out something she assumed qualified as a laugh for him. Everyone else turned to look. Honestly, they looked…impressed, and who wouldn’t be? Full male lips curved into a smile combined with a flash of white, even teeth, totally transformed his look into…wow.
Quinn wiped her brow, trying to overlook the fact that he was calm and cool while she probably had a bright-red face and hair sticking up everywhere. There was a good chance she was an “ugly exerciser”. Besides, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worked up a sweat with a guy in the same vicinity. Maybe last year sometime. She did know it hadn’t been all that memorable.
In fact, it just might be possible that every single adult on the face of the planet was having sex except for her. Well, with the exception of the cranky old guy who lived two doors down from her. Probably not him, but everyone else for sure.
Trying not to groan out loud, Quinn bent to pick up the towel and drink bottle she really should have had the foresight to grab before she’d gotten up. She stumbled on rubbery legs and her knee buckled without any warning. She threw her arm wide in an effort to regain her balance and the drink bottle she held connected with something. Hard. She winced. The contact was so jarring it sent vibrations up her arm and into her shoulder.
Ward hissed and cursed and she felt the dull thud he made when he hit the ground through every bone in her body.
Oh, crap. She’d knocked him flat on his back with her drink bottle. How the heck—
She shook her head. She should know better than to question the how. Or the why. The best she could do was damage control.
She knelt next to him, put her hand on his chest and tried not to notice how hard he was, how warm, even through the t-shirt. His sunglasses must have been knocked off when he went down because they were nowhere to be seen and his eyes were screwed shut, his face all harsh lines and sharp angles.
“I’m so, so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he bit out.
Quinn grimaced at the harsh, cold bite to his voice. “Here, let me help you.”
“I got it.”
“No, really, let me…oops.”
Quinn heard the crunch as she scooted back on her knees. Okay, so no more wondering what had happened to his sunglasses. Bummer. They’d looked nice too. She’d long since stopp
ed buying nice sunnies. What would be the point?
“You’re. On. My. Hand.” The words were slow, carefully enunciated, his voice now a low snarl.
“Oh, God.” Quinn used her palm on his chest to leverage herself up only to lose her balance. Her elbow slammed into his abdomen and she winced at his sharp intake of air.
“I’m so—”
Quinn almost gasped out loud when Ward’s eyes snapped open. Yeah, that had been no Photoshop. Blue, a deep, clear blue with darker flecks around the edges and as intense as any laser, they bore directly into hers. His eyelashes were impossibly long and thick and this close she could see each individual dark whisker on his jaw and lean cheeks. His full lips were tight and pulled back from straight, white teeth. There was a nick along the line of his thick, dark eyebrow over his left eye. Outright perfection wouldn’t be fair at all, would it?
“Don’t fucking move another muscle, okay?” he ground out.
“Ah…sure.” She licked her lips, her mouth all at once dry. She was sprawled across his chest, so close she could feel the heat coming off his big body and the steady beat of his heart under her forearm. “You’ve got a scar over your eye, you know.”
“Yeah? Believe me, that’s the least of my problems,” he forced out.
“Hey, man. Saw you go down. Want a hand?”
Quinn jumped at the guy who had somehow materialized beside them and Ward sucked in another breath as she sat up and back, somehow managing to elbow him again.
The look Ward threw the other man could have frozen lava.
The young guy chuckled. “Nutted you too, did she? Bet it made you forget about the pain in your leg, right?”
Quinn managed to get to her feet on shaky legs when the guy reached out a hand to Ward. Ward took it with a grunt and after some effort made it to his feet. The whole thing was awkward and Quinn frowned. “Awkward” was not a word she would have ever thought to associate with Ward.
“Thanks,” Ward muttered. When he took a step, he kept his leg stiff and his limp was way more pronounced.
“Oh no, I injured you. For real. I—”
“No,” Ward grated.
“You’re limping.”
“It’s an old injury.”
“And it still hurts?”
He threw her a narrow-eyed look. “Sometimes.”
The young guy said something too low for Quinn to catch and Ward shook his head. After a quick look at her, the guy shrugged and jogged back over toward the gym.
“Ward, really, I’m—”
“Yeah. You’re sorry. I got it. Do you have any experience with dogs?”
She blinked at the rapid change of subject. The emotion that slammed into her was intense. And unexpected. She would have sworn she’d put that behind her, buried it deep, but the feelings came rushing at her like a flash flood and she didn’t have a hope of controlling them.
“Why?” she somehow managed.
“You’re about to be…investigated.”
Oh crap.
Quinn stiffened as the animal she’d noticed earlier walked toward her. Actually, it was more like “stalked”. The thing was all solid muscle and kind of mean looking, just like his owner. At least she knew Ward wasn’t going to sink teeth into her flesh. At least…there was probably a good chance he wouldn’t. Not with all these witnesses anyway. And…dog?
“You—you call that a dog?” she croaked.
The animal approached her slowly, head raised, its eyes fixed on her, steady and unblinking. Quinn couldn’t tell what kind of breed it was but it was massive and corded with muscle across a thick chest, its dark coat shimmering with every move.
“Stand your ground,” Ward warned when the dog kept coming for her, invading her personal space, when everything in her said run. “He’s just trying to intimidate you.”
She swallowed. “It’s kinda working.”
“He won’t hurt you. He’s just checking you out. Hold your ground.”
“Okay. It’s like…a dominance thing?”
“He’s just curious. You knocked me down. He’s never seen anyone do that before.”
Right.
“He can be the boss,” she whispered. “Totally. I don’t mind. Just so you know.”
Ward wouldn’t let her get eaten. Would he? She tried to relax muscles she hadn’t realized she’d tensed but, God…the thing really was huge.
Up close she could see the dog hadn’t had any type of kind life. He had nicks and marks and scars all over his body. The biggest one ran around his neck and down one powerful leg and his ears looked as if they’d been chewed on by something.
“What—what’s his name?” she whispered, still pretty much scared to move a muscle.
“I call him Hype. He just looks mean because someone did a real number on him. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s just…protective.”
She glanced at Ward and then back down at Hype. As if Ward needed any kind of protection.
“Kindred spirits?” she offered.
Ward shrugged. “Maybe.”
Hype blinked, lowered his head and nudged her hand. She reached out, her movement slow, tentative, until she touched him on top of the head. He was warm, sleek, his hair smooth, the flesh underneath vibrant with health.
“Don’t touch the front of his neck,” Ward warned.
“Okay.” Quinn glanced up at him quickly, noted the frown. “Why?”
“He’s got some heavy scarring, probably from a chain. He’s touchy there. Someone tried to cut his throat, threw him in the lane behind the gym. I think all the old scarring is probably what saved him.”
Oh, God. Quinn swallowed against the sting at the back of her throat, took a deep breath and kneeled, her movements slow and steady until she was at eye level with the dog. She fixed her gaze to his, ran her hand down the back of his head, down over his shoulder. It’d been such a long time since she’d allowed herself to pet a dog, to get this close to one. Actually, any animal for that matter. His dark eyes were steady on hers.
“You know, don’t you?” Quinn whispered.
She gasped when the dog rubbed his big head against her jaw.
“Jesus,” Ward breathed. “I’ve never seen him do that with anyone else before. What did you do to him?”
“Nothing. I’m…I used to be good with animals?”
What the hell had she done to his dog? Hype was wary around strangers, had never shown much interest in anyone else before. He’d never willingly let anyone else touch him either. Usually he shied away from any contact but he’d initiated it with Quinn. Why? And what the hell was she doing to him?
Ward rubbed at his thigh as if that could help with the pain that radiated up from his knee. It hurt like a motherfucker bitch some days. And then there were days like this when it hurt even more. Even though the impact hadn’t had much force behind it, the contact straight to his knee cap, or what was left of it, had felt like a molten knife cutting through flesh and bone. Ward shut the memories off before they took hold and shook his head.
He was becoming old and lazy and fucking slow. He should have seen that coming a mile off, should have been able to block the clumsy hit, move out of the way. But no. A five foot nothing I-don’t-exercise fluff-ball had put him on his ass. Luckily for him, his life didn’t depend on his ability to be fast on his feet any longer. Epic fucking fail otherwise. As if he’d needed any further reminder that he was right where he belonged now. Just…out.
It served him right for taking the time to check out her ass—again—and getting himself distracted. He’d managed to keep it strictly professional with every other client without even trying. He hadn’t even snuck so much as a Goddamn peek at any of the other women, not once, so what was so special about Quinn?
Sure, she was cute-looking with her light hair, blue eyes and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose. Nice. She had curves in all the right places. Cute and nice had certainly never done a thing for him before, so what the hell was going on here and why the fuck couldn’t he
keep his eyes off her? She was such a smart-ass—a funny, clumsy smart-ass. He never would have guessed it, but he kind of liked it. Her. Now what?
Ward glanced down at the metal and broken glass pieces in the grass, bent to pick them up. He held back the groan—barely—and ground his jaw tight at the twisting pain radiating up and down his entire leg when he straightened. Man, he was going to be in a world of hurt later.
“You owe me,” he ground out.
She swallowed, her eyes lifting to him before returning to his dog and whatever magic spell she’d put him under. “I do?”
“The shades. They were my favorite.”
“I’ll buy you another pair. What kind are they?”
“The expensive kind.”
“Oh.”
He sighed. “Yeah.”
“I’ll still buy you another pair.”
“Forget it.”
Quinn stood, tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “It’s the least I could do. Really.”
Yeah. Right. He had plenty of ideas about how she could make it up to him, none of which he was in any position to follow through on. Some days he was so sick of the pain he wondered if it would have been better to just cut the fucking leg off.
Ward turned to walk back toward the gym, trying like hell to walk without a fucking limp, despite the screaming pain that rose up into the back of his throat and threatened to bring him down again.
“So…” Quinn fell into step beside him. She was frowning. “What exactly do you do, Ward?”
He breathed through another wave of pain and frowned. “Do?”
“You know, for work.”
He stopped, threw an arm wide. “You don’t think this is real work?”
She tilted her head to the side, her gaze never wavering from his, not once. And he knew because he hadn’t dropped his focus from her one bit. Christ, it was unnerving the way she didn’t back down from him. He’d intimidated tough, hardened scum of the earth on a regular basis. Not her. Maybe he’d lost his edge completely.
