Chapter 9
Ethan Quinn
“Okay, I’m out, boss,” Laurie said. “Shyla and Ted just left.”
“All right, drive safe.” I took a swig of my coffee and logged in to my own account.
“By the way—” She faced me and pointed toward the shop section where we had workout clothes, water bottles, and shoes. “The delivery you were expecting today didn’t come, so I called them, and now they’re saying after the weekend.”
I waved it off. “No worries. It’s no emergency.” Tonight, I cared more about the area on the opposite side of the aisle—the boxing ring.
Let’s see, let’s see. The gym was emptying out for the night, and I knew the drill.
Once I activated the digital access system at ten PM, we’d have a dozen members come and go throughout the night.
Some who worked late and stopped by around midnight, some who started their morning at three AM with a workout, and people like my baby sister, who sometimes came at random hours to take out built-up frustrations on punching bags or treadmills.
I had an hour before Darius got here, so I spent the next half hour lifting weights, trying my best not to think about Natalie, and then when I failed at that, I headed down to my office to delete emails and have a protein shake.
She’d looked happier today, hadn’t she? I wasn’t imagining things. Even though she’d said her work trip had been exhausting, she’d come home with a newfound source of energy, and it was a damn good look on her.
She’d told me a little bit about her idea for the studio too.
Her marketing team was apparently on board with her opening a small, exclusive shop where customers could meet the designer herself—and shop for jewelry that would only be available in small quantities and only in Camassia.
Something about building up hype. But mostly, it was personal to Natalie. Something that was only for her.
I was trying something similar with my own brand.
I hadn’t quite found my footing yet, but I’d gotten off to a good start with my new Tuesday task on Instagram.
It was my goal to attract a broader demographic with posts about chores and shit to do around the house that were actually good exercise.
Granted, I had posted my announcement with a video of me treating my folks’ patio for the winter, and I wasn’t brand-new. Women liked watching men do housework.
I hadn’t even taken off my shirt, and it was still one of my most popular posts this year.
My changes weren’t meant to be for only me, but they were an attempt to shake the facades I’d erected over the last decade. This was going to be 100% Ethan Quinn. Shit I believed in, without the frills.
I was in the middle of restructuring my diet too.
After changing into a new tee, I left my office and walked upstairs again. My next workout was about to arrive to beat the shit out of me. Well, he was going to try. As strong and agile as Darius was for his age, he wasn’t the special operator he’d once been—which I knew pissed him off.
Considering he was gearing up for another risky work assignment, I had a feeling I’d go home with some budding bruises later.
Ten o’clock was here, so I activated the access system, locking the doors to everyone who didn’t have a membership card. Or code. Darius loved that part. He’d gotten into countless bitch fights with our doors.
My phone dinged with a message on the counter, so I glanced at the screen and immediately picked it up when I saw Natalie’s name. She’d texted.
This is going to sound super stalkery, but I just saw that you’re still working. Can I come down?
Absofuckinglutely, she could. I texted her back.
Come on down, stalker.
That was another thing. She’d been seeking me out more since Jayden’s birthday party, and I was done avoiding her.
Not that I’d succeeded a whole lot, but I’d given it a week.
I’d tried to honor her wishes to keep everything professional.
Except, she was the one pushing for conversation, and there was only so much I could do before I got sucked in.
While I waited for her, I took the opportunity to check in with Darius.
You ready for me to kick your ass, big brother?
We’d have a glorious audience of four people if Natalie stuck around.
The boxing ring was ready. It was usually where I faced both Darius and Avery. And Ryan, when he was in town.
The sound of the door opening made me look up, and I smiled automatically. “Well, hey. If it ain’t the client watching me from her window.”
She smirked and rolled her eyes. “You know what? I can be honest enough and say it’s not the first time.”
How about that.
I grinned and bent down to rest my forearms on the counter. “I’m gonna need more details.”
She huffed and trailed closer, albeit very slowly, while she pretended to find the nearby clothing displays interesting. “For the record, stalking isn’t the right term. I prefer to say I’m…sojourning.”
I burst out a laugh and shook my head.
She smiled impishly.
“Well, you can sojourn here whenever you want,” I assured her, still too amused.
But it was more than that. Being around her simply made me happy.
She finally reached the counter, and she raked her teeth across her bottom lip. A bit distracting. “Okay, full disclosure? I once saw a woman hit on you right outside, but it looked like you turned her down.”
I had no idea when that had happened, because a woman hitting on me wasn’t specific enough. I just couldn’t say that out loud without sounding arrogant.
“Taking a break from that scene means declining occasional offers,” I said.
She nodded slowly and brushed her fingers mindlessly over a display of supplement dispensers. “In this particular case, I can also imagine she wasn’t your type.”
I furrowed my brow. “What’s my type?”
“Who buys these?” She held up one of the dispensers.
I stifled my smirk. “People who take multiple supplements every day and think the pill boxes for meds are too small.”
“Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
She wasn’t, though. She wasn’t making any sense at all.
“What’s my type, Natalie?” I repeated.
She scoffed and flipped her wavy hair over her shoulder. “How should I know? But I’m guessing, you know, fitness people. Women who do yoga every day and drink algae shots?”
Fucking hell, I wanted to laugh. For the record, I’d dated a few of those women, and yoga and algae shots hadn’t been the deal-breakers.
But I almost wanted to ask, what was it about algae shots?
It wasn’t the first time I’d been accused of liking that.
I’d never in my fucking life taken an algae shot.
She probably saw you with Janette.
Shit. Could that be it?
Janette and I had gone to high school together. She came in from time to time to renew her membership, and then I didn’t see her for months again. Now she was on a keto kick, a restrictive diet that only worked long-term for certain people, and she wasn’t one of them.
“The woman you saw me with,” I said, “was she plus-size?”
“Ummmmm…” Natalie knitted her brows together, thinking about it, and went on to fidget with the QFC measurement tapes. “She might’ve been, yeah.”
I killed my smile before it could break out, because I was finally catching on. Natalie was uncomfortable for some reason. She was bordering on awkward, and it was fucking adorable.
Was she digging for personal information about me?
More specifically, she wanted to know my type?
“Probably Janette, then,” I said. “If I’d been interested in a woman who once admitted to me that she’s been in love with most of my brothers at one point or another in her life, maybe I would’ve considered giving her a call.
But then, I’d also have to put up with her collection of healing stones and her strong belief that burning incense can cure colds. ”
“Oh wow,” she laughed. “And yeah, okay, with the flu season upon us, I can see how that would be a lot.”
“Exactly,” I chuckled. She was avoiding making eye contact, and all I could do was smile at her. Maybe I stood a chance after all? “So, was there a reason for this delightful sojourn of yours?”
She cleared her throat and gave me the most fleeting look before she glanced over at the boxing ring—and then down at the counter. “Yes, sort of. I was bored out of my mind at home, saw you were down here, and figured I could come over and ask if we could box sometime.”
I hitched my brows, surprised by her suggestion.
“Yeah, of course we can,” I answered. “Do you like close-contact sports, or…?”
“Oh, uh, no, not really, but…it looks fun. And whenever I see people going at it over there—” she gestured at the ring “—it’s easy to see it’s a heavy workout.”
No fucking doubt. “It definitely is. And it’s fun. I’m actually waiting for Darius to arrive. We’re gonna go at it for a while.”
“Now?”
I nodded and checked my phone, and he’d actually responded. I’d missed it. He was on his way, looking for parking.
“Yeah, he’ll be here any second,” I said. “You’re welcome to stay and watch if you want. Although, we won’t be boxing.”
“What will you be doing?”
“Beating each other up,” I chuckled. “I guess the closest thing is Krav Maga. Darius doesn’t like to play by the rules.”
She got smirky with me. “Do you like rules?”
Hmm. So many ways to answer that question. But I spotted my brother outside on the sidewalk, so I’d have to circle back to this later. A flirty response was no longer ruled out.
“Remind me to answer you another time,” I said, nodding toward the door. “He’s here.”
To my disappointment, Darius didn’t struggle as much with the door as usual. He scowled, of course, and he tried to push it open before it was unlocked, but then he was in.
“Look at that, my brother’s fashionably late,” I said, straightening up.
“That’s me. All about fashion,” he muttered.
Natalie smiled. “Hi, Darius. Good to see you again.”
He tilted his head at Natalie and pulled off some of that rare politeness. “Hey, Nat. He givin’ you grief? Say the word, and I’ll—”
“You’ll what?” I drawled. “I beat you the last three times we sparred.”