The Mighty Quinns: Thom

Malin smiled and tasted the oatmeal. “It’s good,” she said. “Really. And I love salmon. I’ve just never eaten it for breakfast.”

Thom slipped into the spot next to her and dug into his cereal. He’d always wondered what it might be like to have a woman in his life, eating meals together, enjoying their time together, even outside the bedroom. Thom had to admit that it was a pleasant experience, preparing a meal for her, chatting as they ate.

He hadn’t seen the need for a personal assistant, but now that Malin was on board, he planned to enjoy every single moment.

* * *

“I’M REALLY NOT interested in having muscles.” Malin stared at the barbell and shook her head. “When I agreed to work out with you, I was thinking of walking a little on the treadmill, maybe doing a few stretches, and that would be it.”

Malin hadn’t explored the second floor of the firehouse the night she arrived, but when Thom had decided to work out, she’d followed him upstairs to a huge room at the back of the building. The entire rear wall was windows, bathing the hardwood floors in sunshine. The brick walls were exposed and the room was filled with high-end exercise equipment.

Thom chuckled. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’re one of those.”

Malin felt warmth rise in her cheeks. “One of what?”

“A woman who doesn’t sweat?”

“I—I sweat.” She’d never claimed to be an athlete or even coordinated. Working out was not her favorite thing to do. Which was why she avoided it at all costs. “I do yoga. Two or three times a week.”

“That’s not exercise,” he said. “That’s posing in pretty outfits. You need to get your pulse up to burn calories,” Thom said. “Start breathing harder.”

“Oh, so kissing you is considered good cardio?” she shot back. Only after the words were out of her mouth did she realize she’d said them out loud. A quick change of subject was in order. “Do you think I’m fat?” she asked.

He held out his hand. “Hold on. Let’s rewind to that first thing you said.”

“No, answer my question. I can take it. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with honesty.” She looked down at her body, smoothing her hands over her hips. “Am I fat?”

He stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. Slowly he approached her, his gaze locked on hers, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Are you fat? Hmm. Well, let me see. Turn around.”

Malin groaned inwardly. Was he actually going to answer the question? Oh, God, if the kiss comment wasn’t enough of a humiliation, now her physical imperfections were about to be pointed out in great detail. Well, she had said she could take it.

He stood behind her, and she waited for his verdict. But when she felt his hands slip around her waist, her breath caught in her throat. He splayed his fingers and then slid them down to her hips. A tiny gasp of surprise was all she could manage when he cupped her backside.

She slowly turned and faced him, her expression as calm as she could manage. “Well?”

“I haven’t finished my examination,” he teased. His hands found her waist again, but this time they moved up until his thumbs stopped at the curves of her breasts. Malin’s pulse leaped and for a moment, she couldn’t catch her breath. Would he touch her there?

“You’re perfect,” he said. “Perfect.” With that, Thom walked away and grabbed a pair of dumbbells from the rack. He began to work on his biceps, watching his reflection in the mirror.

Malin walked over to the treadmill, glancing at him every now and then. She stepped onto the machine, her body still tingling from the aftereffects of his touch. It hadn’t taken much to get her heart racing. Maybe if she exercised a bit, her body wouldn’t react to him in such a disturbing way.

Who was she kidding? Wasn’t this supposed to be how it went when you met an impossibly attractive man? Never mind the physical reactions. She was having more problems with her mind—the endless fantasies, the lack of coherent thought when he was in the room, the ability to relive every single moment of their last intimate encounter.

Maybe exercise could mitigate the physical problems, but she’d need to cut off her own head to take care of the rest. “Just focus,” she muttered as she struggled to turn on the treadmill.

She punched the buttons and the display lit up, but the belt wasn’t moving. Then she noticed the safety switch and pushed the plastic card into the slot. The treadmill yanked her backward, pulling her off balance.

Malin screamed as she was tossed off the treadmill, her arms flailing and her feet over her head. Before she hit the floor, she hit the corner of the weight bench. A searing pain on the crown of her head caused her to cry out again.

Thom was beside her in an instant. “Are you all right?”

Groaning, she pushed up on her elbow and touched her head gingerly. “I—I just slipped.”

He stood up and switched off the treadmill. “You had it set for five miles an hour.”

“Yeah? I guess that was my mistake.” Her fingertips felt damp, and she looked at her hand to find her fingers dripping with blood. The room closed in on her, and Malin knew she was about to pass out. The sight of blood had always...been...her kryptonite...