The Mighty Quinns: Thom

She found Thom Quinn where she’d left him in the conference room. She glanced over her shoulder as she entered. “Did your agent leave?”

Quinn shook his head. “No. He had to take a call.”

Malin pulled out a chair at the end of the table and grabbed a phone, punching in the number of her assistant. “Leah, I’m in the conference room. Can you find Jason and have him come in here? He’s probably in the mail room, working on the convention mailing.”

She hung up the phone and met Thom Quinn’s gaze, holding it for a moment longer than seemed proper under the circumstances. Malin swallowed hard. What were the circumstances? She wasn’t his boss. She didn’t have any power over him, at least none that didn’t come directly from her father. What if he refused to do as she said? In one quick stroke, she’d lose the last of her credibility with her father and any shot at a management job with the team.

“So, they sent you to give me more bad news?”

“Bad news?”

“Yeah, that they’ve decided to trade me to the worst team in the league?”

“Yes,” she murmured, her gaze still locked on his. “I—I mean, no.”

He was an incredibly handsome man. That had always been part of his appeal to the female fans. The shaggy dark hair. The scruffy beard. The impossibly blue eyes. Added to that was a collection of imperfections that made him irresistible—the scar on his lip, the slightly crooked nose.

Dragging her eyes from his face, she reached out and straightened her pen sitting beside her notepad.

“Which is it?” he asked. “Trade or no?”

Malin drew a deep breath. “No,” she lied. She was still determined to save him. He’d be much more amenable to her plan if he thought he had a chance to stay. “They’re going to give you another chance.”

He frowned. “Really?”

Malin nodded. “Under some conditions,” she said.

“What would those be?”

“Maybe we ought to wait for your agent.”

“No, please. Give me my punishment. I’m willing to do what I have to do to stay with the team.”

“All right,” Malin said. “There’ll be no more drinking in public. And I’d advise no more drinking at all. You make stupid decisions when you drink.”

He stared at her silently and she paused for a moment, waiting for a comment or a refusal. But when he said nothing, Malin forged on.

“You should also probably take a break from the women, too. I don’t mean to say you can’t date, but consider keeping your private life more...private.” She cleared her throat. “And finally, we’re going to assign you a—a personal assistant.” It sounded so much better than a watcher, she thought to herself. “This person will live with you and help you make the proper choices and—”

“You’re assigning me a babysitter?” he asked.

“Of course not. You’re not a baby. You’re a full-grown man with a lot of decisions to make. Which is why you need a personal assistant.”

He chuckled softly, shaking her head. “All of this because of one photo?”

“If we hadn’t killed that photo, you could have ended up in jail.”

“I knew she was a hooker,” he said. “And that she was underage.”

“What?” Malin asked.

He nodded. “She approached me in the bar. She looked hungry and scared. She had a black eye and a swollen lip. We started to talk and it was obvious she could do with a meal and a decent night’s sleep. So I bought her dinner and rented her a room. The next morning, I stopped by her room and gave her money to go home. She took it, and as far as I know, she’s back in Kansas or Nebraska or wherever she came from. I guess the guy must have snapped a picture when we were in the bar.”

“You didn’t...”

“I do have some limits when it comes to my behavior.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

He grinned and shrugged. “I tried, but they wouldn’t listen. Besides, it wouldn’t have mattered. They see me the way they want to see me.”

She studied him silently. Malin had read his bio, the rags-to-riches story—he’d been a juvenile delinquent, virtually orphaned and living on the streets before stumbling into an after-school hockey program.

He’d never had a steady male influence in his life. Instead, he’d been forced to cobble together the rules and expectations of adulthood. Add to that the quick acquisition of wealth and fame and it would mess anyone up. But was she really prepared to untangle that mess? If it meant gaining a whole lot of respect, damn right she was.

“Miss Pedersen?” said a voice from behind her.

Malin turned to see her second cousin, Jason, waiting nervously at the door. His mother had sent him to the Twin Cities when he’d failed to find a job after five years in college. He hadn’t impressed her beyond his ability to overthink nearly every project he’d been given. But Malin needed someone who’d take the job seriously, someone who’d stick to Thom Quinn like glue.

“Jason Pedersen, this is Thom Quinn,” Malin said.

“I—I know who you are,” Jason said. “I met you last spring at the fan convention. You signed my helmet.”

“Mr. Quinn, I’m going to suggest you hire a personal assistant. One who’ll live with you 24/7. I trust you can make a place for him at your home. Of course, the team will provide a stipend for his rent.”

“You want me to live with someone?” Thom asked.

“This is nonnegotiable,” Malin said. “Perhaps we should discuss this with your agent?”

“No,” he said. “It’s fine with me.”

“You’ll also pay his salary,” Malin added.

“I will?”

“Yes. Due to contract restrictions, we can’t force you to hire an assistant. We can encourage you to do it on your own, though. Which I’m now strongly suggesting.” She leaned forward, her hands splayed across the conference table. “Please do it, Mr. Quinn. Trust me, if you want to keep your job, you need to do this.”

Malin waited, knowing that her ability to sway his behavior was key to her plan working. If he fought her, then it was going to be a very difficult summer for them both.

“All right,” he finally said. “I can make room for Jason.”

Jason gasped. “What? Me?”

“You’re going to be Thom Quinn’s new personal assistant,” Malin said.

Jason’s eyes went wide. “I’m moving in with Tommy Quinn? I’m moving in with The Beast?”

“We’re not going to be using that nickname anymore,” Malin said. “Call him Mr. Quinn for now.”

“You can call me Thom,” he said, nodding at Jason.

At that moment, Thom’s agent returned to the room, his phone still held up to his ear. “What’s happening?”

“I’ve just hired a personal assistant,” Thom said in a bright tone. “This is Jason. He’s going to help me get my shit together.”

Jack glanced back and forth between his client and Jason. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Thom said. “He’s going to be living with me. I think it will work out just fine. Jeff and Jake both have assistants, and they say it’s great. Maybe he can also do my laundry? And clean the fridge? It will be nice to have a workout partner.” He stood, then held out his hand to Malin. “If we’re finished here, I’ll meet Jason at my place. You can give him the address and send him over with his stuff.”

The moment their hands touched, Malin felt a current race through her body. Thom’s hands were strong, his fingers long and slender. He was known for his great hands, but she’d assumed that referred to his stick handling abilities. She stared down, her mind suddenly occupied with thoughts of what his hands might do to her body. Great hands indeed. A shiver raced through her.

“What about you?” he murmured. “How will you know that I’m complying with your wishes?”

“I’ll be in daily contact with Jason, and he’ll keep me up to date on how you’re doing. You’ll be expected to work out with a team trainer and skate every day. We’ll put together a schedule.”

“All right, then,” Thom said. He suddenly let go of her hand, and Malin wondered if she’d ever have the chance to touch him again.

She watched him follow his agent out of the conference room, then flopped down into one of the leather chairs.

She was acting like a puck bunny, getting all flushed and breathless the moment she set eyes on a handsome hockey player. This had never happened to her before. Why was it happening now?

“He is so cool,” Jason said. “The Beast! How can you not like that guy?”

Malin was wondering the exact opposite—how could she stop liking him?

* * *

THOM STOOD IN FRONT of the open refrigerator door and examined the contents. Old takeout containers, a few packages of hot dogs, juice, vitamin water and beer. Though he worked hard to maintain a decent diet, it was much easier during the season when meals were provided by the club’s caterer.

“Can you cook?” he called.

“Cook?” Jason wandered into the kitchen area. “Sure. Pizza. Mac and cheese. Man, your place is so cool. What guy wouldn’t love living in an old firehouse? Was it like this when you moved in?”

“No, I renovated it myself.” Thom grabbed a couple of beers, starting to make a grocery list in his head. McCrory and Pedersen had made it clear they wanted him to lay low for the next couple of months, so he wouldn’t be dining at his favorite restaurants. He followed the sound of Jason’s voice to the family room at the rear of the house.

Jason had already found the remote for the television and was flipping through the channels. “You are old enough to drink, aren’t you?” Thom asked before handing the other man the beer.

“I’m twenty-two. But I probably shouldn’t drink since I’m on duty.”

Thom grabbed the remote and switched to the local sports report. “We need groceries. You might as well hit the store. While you’re gone, I’m going to take a run.”

Jason shook his head. “I’m not supposed to leave you alone. If you need me to shop, then you have to come with me. If you’re going for a run, I go with you. That’s what Malin told me and I’m not going to screw it up. I’m supposed to stick to you like glue on rice.” He cleared his throat. “Or maybe it was white on rice. Yeah, yeah, that’s it. White on rice. Flies on flypaper.”

“All right. We can send out for a pizza,” Thom muttered, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Why don’t you go grab a bedroom and unpack your stuff?”

“I can do that later. I—I’m just gonna sit here and watch the sports report.”

“I’m not going to sneak out while you’re upstairs.”

“No, no,” Jason said. “I trust you. Completely. Why don’t I call for the pizza? Malin—I mean, Miss Pedersen—gave me some cash. My treat.”

“Malin,” Thom repeated. “You call her Malin?”

“Not around the office. But she’s my cousin, so it would be weird to call her Miss Pedersen any other time.”

“What else did she tell you?”

Jason shrugged. “Just...stuff.”

“Like what?”

“She said I shouldn’t let you drink. That I should keep you away from sleazy women. I’m supposed to work out with you every day, and if I can get you to read an actual book, she’ll give me a bonus.”

“She expects you to do all that? She must be tough to work for.”

“Nah, she’s really nice. I’ve screwed up a few times—more than a few times—and she always gives me another chance.”

“What else do you know about her? Does she have a boyfriend?” He handed Jason the beer and this time the other man took a sip, his earlier reluctance forgotten.

“I think she used to. Someone said he used to come to the games, but he lived in New York. That’s where she used to live before she came back to Minneapolis.” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen her with a guy. I’m pretty sure she likes men. I’ve just never...”

“What’s her job?”

“Social media. She runs the team website and all the social media accounts. She filters the team’s Twitter posts and Instagram photos. So if you post something that would reflect badly on the team, she catches it before it goes out.”

“I don’t do social media,” Thom said.

“Yeah, I know. You make up for it with all the other stuff that gets posted about you. God, I wish I had your social life. All those beautiful women. Maybe you can give me some advice?”

“Where does she live?”

“Malin? She’s got a place in Merriam Park. I’ve only been there a few times. Just to check on the place while she was out of town. It’s nothing like this place. Just an ordinary house.”

Thom let those few nuggets of information roll around in his mind for a bit, curious about the woman who suddenly held so much power over him. He wanted to dig deeper, to find out every little detail about her. What did she eat for breakfast? Did she sleep in pajamas or the nude? Did she—

Thom stopped himself. This was exactly the kind of thought pattern that had gotten him into trouble in the past. Once he’d decided he wanted a woman, there was nothing that stood in his way. It didn’t matter how long it took or what he had to do to get her into bed. In the end, he always made it happen.

A voice from the TV caught his attention. “A late-breaking report regarding your Minneapolis Blizzard.”

Both Jason and Thom turned to look at the television.

“Trade rumors are swirling, and at the center of the storm is Blizzard defenseman Tommy ‘The Beast’ Quinn. Sources say his off-ice shenanigans haven’t been sitting well with team’s owner, Davis Pedersen. Is Quinn on his way out? Fans are not going to be happy. We’ll have an exclusive on our late report.”

Thom stared at the television for a long moment. With a soft curse, he shut the television off and tossed the remote on the coffee table. “She told me I wasn’t going to be traded,” he muttered. Launching to his feet, he turned to Jason, looming over him in his most threatening manner. “What do you know about this?”

“I—I— Nothing. They don’t tell me anything. I swear.”

“Come on. I want you to show me where she lives. Miss Pedersen and I have some things to discuss.” Thom shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out the keys for his truck. When Jason didn’t move, he said, “Don’t you have to go with me?”

“She’s probably still at the office,” Jason said.

“I’m not going to talk to her there.”

“You can call her,” Jason suggested. He held out his cell phone.

Thom shook his head. “No, this has to be done in person. Why would she lie to me? I mean, I went in there fully expecting to be traded. And then she decides to put me through this crap. Locked up like a prisoner with you reporting my every move. What’s that all about?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said. “But I do know that if I show you where she lives and you go there, she’s going to fire me. Can you just sit down and we’ll order a pizza?”

“No,” Thom snapped. “I want this settled now.”

He walked to the front door, not bothering to wait for Jason. When he reached his truck, parked on the street, he got inside. As he slipped the key into the ignition, Thom heard a rapping on the window. Jason stood at the passenger door, a stricken expression on his face.

Thom unlocked the door and the kid hopped inside. “I can show you where she parks. We could wait for her there. She always leaves the office at five. If she has to work late, she comes back after dinner.”

“Five,” Thom said. They had fifteen minutes to make a ten-minute drive. At least it would give him a bit of time to figure out exactly what he wanted to say.

Hell, he should have known not to trust her. She wasn’t on his side. She was the daughter of the damn owner. Of course she’d side with her father. Well, he was going to fight this trade. Why lie down and let the team walk all over him? If he wanted to, he could make things very difficult for them.

He knew there was a morals clause in his contract, a section that directly addressed bad behavior. Beyond his youthful criminal record, Thom’s “rap sheet” was long and colorful. The brawls—with fellow players, with fans, with bartenders and limo drivers and bouncers and parking attendants—were probably the most egregious.

The women followed a close second. Though they didn’t cause as much legal trouble as the brawls, they were a distraction, especially when one decided to spill her secrets to a gossip website.

Until recently, Thom had been able to keep the drinking pretty much under control. But now, there seemed to be more reasons to drink than reasons not to. It wasn’t just something he did to relax anymore. Getting drunk was the only way he could shut off the constant hum in his head, turn off all the questions rattling round in his mind.

Life used to be pretty simple for him. He played hockey and he did it better than almost everyone in the league. It provided for him and his family. But now, it seemed that with every year that passed, his life grew more complicated. What would he do when he couldn’t play hockey anymore?

Thom had vowed that he’d get out of the game gracefully. He never wanted to be one of those guys who hung around trying to recapture lost glory. He wanted to go out on top. But how could he be sure the time was right? And what would he do once hockey was over for him?

“It’s right here,” Jason said, pointing to the parking ramp.

Thom turned into the entrance and grabbed a ticket, then steered the truck up the levels. “What kind of car are we looking for?”

“She has a dark green Audi. It’s usually on the fourth level.”

Thom found the car and pulled into a spot across the aisle from it. He shut off the truck, then nervously tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips. “What time is it?”

“A few minutes before five. She should be coming along any minute.” Jason slouched down in the seat. “What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know,” Thom said. The drive over had been too short to untangle the knot of emotions in his gut.

“Don’t you think you’d better figure it— Wait. Someone’s coming.”

“Is it her?”

“Yeah, it is.”

They each watched in their side view mirrors as Malin strolled past. Thom reached for the door and then, at the last minute, decided to wait. “She’s gorgeous,” he murmured.

“You think so?” Jason asked.

“Don’t you?”

“Well, she’s my cousin, so I really don’t look at her that way. And I’m really more attracted to brunettes than blondes.”

Malin got into her car and slipped behind the wheel. Thom held his breath, waiting for just the right moment. When she began to back out of the parking spot, he knew the moment was at hand, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to get out of the truck.

He didn’t want their next encounter to be an argument. And he certainly didn’t want it to happen in a parking lot with Jason looking on.

“She’s driving away,” Jason said.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t get it. Everybody says you’re legendary with women,” Jason murmured.

“Most of that is just talk,” Thom said. “Most of the time I have no idea what the hell they’re thinking. Or what I’m doing.” He reached for the ignition. “You know what? I could use a drink. Let’s go to a bar.”

“I’m not supposed to—”

“Jason, if we’re going to get along, you’re going to need to learn that the rules just don’t apply to us. Got it?”

2

SLEEP DIDN’T COME easily that night for Malin. Her head was filled with memories of the day’s events, which led to her mind weaving tantalizing little fantasies about Thom Quinn.

She’d never been attracted to one of the hockey players before, and she couldn’t explain this sudden attraction to Quinn. By all accounts, the guy was a mess. Yet it was hard to ignore his physical perfection, the handsome features, the unruly hair, the body that had been carved out of solid muscle.

After their meeting, she’d shut herself in her office and searched the internet for any information about him that wasn’t included in his personnel file. She came across plenty of shirtless photos, both professional and candid, along with a fair number of pictures of Quinn and his women. There were even a few of him when he was younger, hockey photos that showed a sweet-looking boy with a chipped front tooth and a ragged haircut.

She knew that unlike most of the league’s star players, Thom Quinn hadn’t laced on his first pair of skates until he was twelve. He’d struggled at first but quickly learned the game. It provided a lucky alternative to the street life that he’d been drawn to.

On the ice, Quinn was confident and strong, in command of all his talents and skills. But once he stepped off, he seemed to have nothing to hide behind, and his life fractured at the slightest stress. She realized he was still that screwed-up kid from the streets. Why was she the only one who recognized that fact?

She groaned softly and pulled the pillow over her head. This was crazy. The guy would probably be on a plane out of town by next week and she was quickly turning him into her imaginary boyfriend.

The sound of her cell phone ringing was muffled by the pillow. She threw it off the bed, then sat up and grabbed her phone. Jason’s number came up on the screen, and Malin fumbled to answer.

“Hi, Jason. What’s—”

“He’s gone,” Jason said, his voice wavering slightly. “We were just hanging out, watching a Cubs game, and I—well, I kinda—lost track of him. Just for a few minutes.”

“How long?”

“Since about nine. I thought he’d be back after the bar closed, but that was an hour ago.”

“You were in a bar?”

“We just stopped for a drink after we— Never mind. I tried to talk him out of it, but then we started playing dice and drinking shots and I got totally wasted.”

“Where are you now?”

“At his place. I’m so sorry. I tried to say no, but he’s very persuasive.”

“All right, just stay where you are. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Have you tried calling his cell phone?”

“He doesn’t answer. Do you think he might have been in an accident?”

“No, no! I’ll be there in a few minutes.” She turned off her phone and tossed back the bedcovers. It shouldn’t have been any surprise that it had taken Thom Quinn less than a day to break the rules.

She crawled out of bed. When she reached the bathroom, Malin ran a comb through her tangled hair and took a few extra seconds with her makeup, then pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a loose shirt.

Five minutes later she was on the road, and ten minutes later she pulled up in front of Thom Quinn’s place. At first she had to recheck the address. She was parked in front of an old firehouse. But when Jason appeared on the sidewalk, she knew she’d found the right place.

“I can’t do this job, Malin,” he said, pacing the sidewalk. “How am I supposed to sleep? And if he decides to go somewhere without me, how can I force him? He could just punch me and knock me out or—”

“Get you drunk?”

“Exactly! I think you picked the wrong person for this job. I’m just not ready.”

“Maybe we could put a bell around his neck,” she muttered as she stepped inside the front door. She dropped her bag on a nearby table, then slowly began to explore the house. “Wow,” she said with a gasp. “This place is—”

“I know,” Jason said. “He did all this himself. He’s my hero. If I could do something like this, my father would think I was amazing. He’d probably talk to me again.”

“Jason, why don’t you take off. I can handle this on my own. It would probably be better if you weren’t here when Thom got back.”

“Am I fired?” Jason asked.

“No. Just reassigned. This one was always going to be tricky. It just turned out to be more difficult than I thought.”

“Tommy’s angry because he saw on the news that they’re going to trade him. He said you lied to him. Is he going to be traded?”

She shrugged. “Probably. But I’m going to make the case for him to stay if he’ll cooperate and if I can get a few more people to back me. It could be our little project.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because if I were the general manager of this club, I’d find a way to turn him into a hero off the ice as well as on it. He can be fixed, and I’m the one to do it. And when it’s time for me to run this club, people will remember how I saved Tommy ‘The Beast’ Quinn.”