The Good Girl's Second Chance. Christine Rimmer

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       Chapter Three

      Chloe sent Tai to get takeout again. They shared lunch. And then she left Tai in charge and walked the two blocks to Prime Sports and Fitness, her heart hammering at her ribs all the way.

      Quinn’s gym filled a three-story brick building directly across the street from the popular Irish-style pub, McKellan’s. Chloe hesitated outside on the sidewalk, ordering her pulse to slow down a little, noting the good location and the clean, modern lines of the building itself. There were lots of windows and various athletic activities visible from the street. In one room, some kind of martial arts class was in progress. Another room took up most of the second floor and held rows of cardio equipment, with people in exercise gear working out on stationary bikes, treadmills and elliptical trainers.

      She stood there staring up for a couple of minutes at least. Until she finally had to accept that her nervousness hadn’t faded at all. In fact, it was worse. So she smoothed the front of her narrow white pants, tugged on the hem of the light, short blazer she wore over a featherweight black tank, squared her shoulders and went in.

      The gorgeous, hardbody brunette at the front desk said that Quinn was just finishing up leading a boxing conditioning class. Chloe could wait in his office. It shouldn’t be long.

      So Chloe sat in his office, where the walls were lined with pictures of Quinn in his fighting days and more than one big, shiny trophy stood on display. She had become absolutely certain that she’d made a horrible mistake in coming here and was just about to rise and bolt from the building, when the door swung open and there he was, looking sweaty and spectacular in gray boxing shorts and a muscle-hugging T.

      * * *

      “Hello, Chloe.” Quinn thought he’d never seen anyone so smooth and beautiful, in those perfect white pants and pointy little shoes, not a single golden hair out of place.

      “Quinn.” She sounded breathless. He liked that. And she bounced to her feet. “I... How are you?” She held out her hand.

      “Good. Real good.” He stepped forward and took it, already regretting he hadn’t run to the locker room and grabbed a quick shower after class. Her slim fingers were cool and dry in his sweaty paw.

      But she didn’t seem to mind. She held on and he held on and they stood and stared at each other. She looked a little stunned, but in a good way. And he had no doubt his expression mirrored hers.

      Finally, she said in a breathless rush, “I need... Well, there’s something I really have to discuss with you.”

      “Sure.” He made himself release her hand and went back to shut the door as she returned to the chair. “Something to drink? Juice? Tea?” When she shook her head, he slid in behind his desk and gestured for her to sit back down. “Okay. What’s going on?”

      “I, uh, had a visit from Manny and Annabelle today, at my design showroom. Manny offered me a really good project, redoing all the rooms in your house.” She paused to swallow and smooth her already perfect hair. “I agreed to meet him at your house tomorrow in the afternoon to go over the changes he wants. If he still wants to hire me, I’ll work out the numbers and put together a contract.”

      This was all news to Quinn. But not bad news. He asked cautiously, “And this is a problem somehow?”

      “Well, after Manny and Annabelle left, I started wondering if you even knew that he was planning to hire me. I thought I should, you know, check with you, make certain you’re on board with Manny’s plan...” Her voice trailed off.

      He watched her try not to fidget. And the longer he sat there looking at her, the more he came to grips with the fact that the one night he’d had with her wasn’t enough. Luckily for him, her signal came through loud and clear: she felt the same way.

      No, he had no time for romance.

      But for a woman like Chloe, he might just have to make time.

      Should he be pissed off at Manny for taking the situation into his battered old hands? Probably. Manny had no business butting in.

      But Quinn had just spent a week keeping himself from climbing the hill to get to her. Manny’s bold move had brought her right to him. Pissed off? Hardly. Downright grateful was more like it.

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