The Mighty Quinns: Thom. Kate Hoffmann
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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.”
Jason laughed. “You want to be general manager? That’s pretty funny.”
She gave him a withering glare, shaking her head. “Would you like to rethink that statement?”
“Sorry,” Jason said. “I’ll just be going.”
“Can you drive?”
He nodded. “I really am sorry. And I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”
Malin walked Jason to the front door, then locked it behind him. Leaning back against the wood, she closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. With Jason acting as a buffer, it would have been easier for her to keep a professional distance. But less than twenty-four hours after reaching an agreement with Thom, he’d broken it—and she was forced to step in. It was clear he needed a firmer hand, a more determined personality.
Malin wasn’t about to let one little bump in the road deter her. She wouldn’t stop until she’d achieved her goal. She’d tame The Beast or die trying.
Proving her worth to her father had been a lifetime challenge. Her older brothers had it easy. Hockey was a natural fit for them, and they’d played from the time they could balance on skates until they’d been brave enough to quit. The eldest, Daniel, was now a resident in cardiac surgery, and her other brother, Kristian, worked as an attorney for the US Justice Department. They had no interest in running the team. But the moment her father had called, she’d left a prestigious job in New York to take her chances with the team.
She walked back to the kitchen, taking in the details of Thom Quinn’s home. It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Most of the single guys on the team lived in one of the city’s luxury high-rise condos. But Thom’s home showed his artistic side. He was obviously good with his hands. Malin groaned. His hands again. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about his hands.
She tried to refocus on his home. The place had never been profiled in any of the city’s glossy magazines, even though it deserved to be. With her media contacts, she could get an article placed in the next few months.
She wandered through the old fire station, taking in all the details, trying to imagine how a photographer might shoot it.
The cream-colored brick walls were exposed throughout the entire building, and massive wood beams supported each wall. At one time the lower level must have housed horses, because Thom had left the old sliding doors in place.
She paused just inside his bedroom door, wondering if her tour ought to stop there. She was interested in the decor, but there were too many other things that came to mind when she glanced inside his bedroom.
The room was huge, spacious and airy, with a huge bed against one wall. She took a few steps further so she could see inside his bathroom—floor-to-ceiling dark gray marble with a steam shower and a whirlpool tub. Her curiosity got the better of her, and