July 2nd, 2021

0230 hours

Robyn woke with a start, legs tangled in her soft sheets. Lightning flashed brightly as a storm raged outside. She could feel the earth tremble beneath her as the thunder rolled over the surge covered beaches. She snuggled back into her pillow, thinking her reason for waking was just the storm. A soft, tinkling of glass jerked her out of her comforted funk and her feet hit the floor, the wood smooth under her steady feet. Her fingers fumbled for the lamp and turned the switch, but she quickly realized the lights must be out. Engulfed in darkness, Robyn gingerly picked up the baseball bat she kept near her bed and crept steadily toward her open bedroom door. The door across from hers was open, and a slight glance inside revealed no unusual activity. She thought she heard muffled footsteps coming from the direction of the kitchen.

Her heart pounded so hard in her chest she could hear it, and as lightning flashed, she briefly saw the outline of someone standing in front of her sink.

She crept closer, bat raised, waiting for the moment to strike. Nature, however, had different plans. Simultaneously, she brought the bat down toward her target's head as light flooded the kitchen and her intruder spun around.

She screamed, her grip loosening on the bat as a strong, muscled arm flew up and met her swing midair.

"Oh, my God, Quinn!" She squawked awkwardly, voice hoarse from too much wind, water, and sea salt. "What the hell?"

Arms raised protectively, he looked back apologetically. "I'm sorry, Robyn. I couldn't sleep at that pathetic excuse for a hotel."

"Well, dammit Quinn, you could have called! Or knocked for Christ sake!" She was still screaming, chest heaving and clinging on to the wall behind her for support.

"The lights were out." He said simply. "Naturally, so were the phone lines."

"Knock much?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. You must not have been able to hear me over the storm."

Her breathing was still ragged but began to slow. "Oh." She said, still gripping the wall behind her.

"What, pray tell, were you going to do with that?" He pointed at the discarded bat, lips quirking in amusement.

His playfulness angered her. "Conk you over the head with it." She growled, more animal than human at the moment, with her fight or flight response heavily activated.

"You, conk me on the head, with a bat?" Quinn fought to keep in a laugh, and her eyes narrowed, peeved he was enjoying her discombobulation.

"Yes. I use to play softball, as I'm sure you know, since you did a background check on me."

"I'm sorry for startling you," he said "but I am glad I wasn't greeted by your twelve gauge instead."

Now in the light, after her heart quit pounding and her vision cleared, she looked at him. The fog in her mind dispersed enough that she remembered how upset she was with him.

"What do you want?" She growled, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest.

"Have I done something to offend you?" Quinn replied, leaning back against the counter.

"More like to disappoint." Robyn hissed waspishly.

Quinn narrowed his eyes at her. "This is about earlier."

"Yes." Robyn chewed on her lower lip. "You had sex with her, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "Why would that bother you?"

"I thought it would be obvious, genius." She scoffed, but upon realization of what she was admitting to, she lowered her gaze and focused steadily on the floor.

He kept his distance, but raised an arm up to cup her cheek softly. "I needed information. That was the only reason." His tone was fluid and candid, Robyn heard the truth in his voice.

"Quinn, our kiss-"

"That is the reason for your ill-timed outburst earlier?" Quinn raised a brow in quizzical amusement.

"I'm glad you think this is so funny." Robyn grumbled, eyes whipping back upward with a reproachful glare.

Quinn rubbed his thumb gently on her cheek. "I'm sorry." He apologized, eyes holding hers in an intense gaze. "So very, incredibly sorry."

Her skin grew hot under his stare and she found herself observing him just as intensely.

She couldn't speak. He was magnificent.

That was one of the reasons, really, that she had sent him to the hotel in the first place. Convincing him that he would be much more comfortable there than her beach house had been fairly easy, but refraining from ripping his damn clothes off while she did it was hard.

Now, illuminated in the brilliant electricity, she couldn't ignore the firm contours of his pectorals; how they met with his sculpted abs and disappeared into the loose waistband of his linen pajama bottoms, and the faint line of dark hair trailing from his belly button downward.

She gulped, trying not to think about his intimate anatomy. He was feet away, yet she could see every single detail: the soft ripple of his muscles as he crossed his arms and leaned against her marble counter top, the way he casually crossed one ankle over the other as his vigilant eyes never stopped their endless scrutinizing, the small water droplets that fell from his ebony hair and rolled suggestively down his hard, alabaster skin.

"Um..." Robyn started, searching wildly for something to say, anything to take her mind off how deliciously sinful he looked "you're soaked." She managed to croak out.

He blinked at her. "How observant. You see, it is raining outside, and this does tend to happen when one forgets an umbrella." She saw the corners of his mouth twitch, and realized he was teasing her.

"Let me, um, just get you a towel." She breathed, glad for an excuse to leave the room. "I'll be right back. Just help yourself to water or something, if you're thirsty. If not um, I think there's some left-over pizza in the fridge, if you're hungry." She was babbling as she backed out of the room. "It's going to spoil anyway."

Quinn didn't budge. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

"Okay." She collided with the door frame and cursed silently. Great, Robyn, just great, she chastised herself mentally. Smooth.

She thought she heard his low laughter as she ran the final few feet to the bathroom and shut the door. She sat heavily on the toilet, breathing rapidly. He's just a guy, Robyn, just any old guy. Not just a guy, though. He was a very sexy man who, rather recently, had kissed her senseless and lit a fire in her veins.

Their fervent embrace burned in the fore of her mind until it consumed her completely. It wasn't until five minutes later that she felt she had successfully squelched her shock at his arrival, and excitement for another kiss, enough to grab a dark blue towel from the rack and emerge from the bathroom. Thinking, she paused at her dresser and rummaged through an array of old shirts and underwear. She pulled out a pair of Barry's old pajama bottoms that were too long for her. She wasn't sure why she even kept them anymore.

She found Quinn standing in the same position as when she had left, though his eyes looked, if possible, more alert.

"Are you feeling alright?" He asked, head tilted slightly to one side. She knew he was inspecting her, picking her apart.

"You just startled me pretty badly earlier, that's all." Robyn lied, crossing the room to the bar. She stopped a foot or two away, making sure there was a safe distance between her and the object of her desires. Never before had a man elicited this kind of response from her. Sure, she had been very attracted to men before, but not one set her body aflame the way he did, not even Barry.

Later, she wondered why she hadn't gotten closer to him before. In retrospect, it should have happened much sooner. She found herself throwing caution to the wind, closing the small distance between them, sidling right up to him and wrapping the large towel around his torso.

His deft fingers caught hers as they began to tenderly dry his chest. He brought his other hand up to caress her cheek, deep eyes locking onto hers. The unclaimed depths he found there surprised him. Those deep blue pools held so much angst he almost pulled away, yet the strong pull he felt while gazing into them created a possessive stirring in his loins. Crazily, he found himself wishing he could tame that wild, raw emotion. Until then, Quinn hadn't yet met a woman that drove him wild, yet here she was, his equal, a perfect match. He had been toying with the idea of ravishing her since she'd punched him. He wanted to make her his, to claim her: somehow Robyn had made his body literally ache with unadulterated need. However, she wasn't the kind upon which you could stake a claim: no, Robyn needed to be treated like the hot headed, stubborn, intelligent bombshell that she was, and be properly courted, as one would a true lady.

He couldn't yet. He kept a constant reminder on loop in his head that she needed this to go even more slowly, on her terms, and he was more than complacent to wait until she was ready.

Quinn cleared his throat resolutely, pulling back slightly and nodding to the pants dangling limply in Robyn's hand. "Are those for me?"

Her blue eyes cleared as she blinked and shifted back to reality. "Oh, yes, they are." Her slight hand lifted them shakily.

"They were his." It was a statement, not a question.

Robyn's eyes flickered upward to meet his. "Yes."

Quinn held her gaze with a steady resolve. An unspoken understanding settled peacefully between them. "Thank you." He took the pants from her outstretched palm, fingers brushing hers slightly, sending a thrill of excitement shooting up her arm.

"You're welcome." She murmured, gesturing toward the bathroom. "The restroom is there. You can wash up, if you'd like. I set out fresh towels."

"Why Miss Bourke, you're practically hospitable." Quinn teased, lightening the mood. "Careful, I might start to think you care about me."

Robyn blushed profusely and angled her body away. "Don't read too much into it, Jones."

The fact that she used his last name was not lost on him, and he frowned almost imperceptibly as he thanked her. "I do appreciate it, Robyn."

"It really isn't a big deal." She grumbled back, but he was already shutting the door to the washroom.

Robyn set out to the linen closet and removed several blankets and a pillow, hauling the pile of sheets to the couch. Just as she was finished spreading them and tucking them precisely into the cushions, Quinn reemerged from the bathroom, steam billowing behind him in hot wafts.

Robyn quirked a brow at her own, sexually deviant thoughts as they arose, shoving them to the back of her mind. "You can sleep here. There's an extra quilt there if you need more, but it gets pretty warm in here at night, so just leave it there if not."

"Thank you, Robyn." Quinn swooped in for a brief moment, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Can I make the bold assumption that we are now friends?"

Robyn's body heated rapidly at the contact and she shivered with pleasure. "Friends. Good night, Quinn."

"Good night, Robyn." He whispered, turning to go. It saddened her for some reason, and she opened her mouth to speak, but he surprised her by whipping around and asking "How do they look?"

"What?" Robyn's question came out in a breathy rush.

"The pajama bottoms." Quinn gestured to his lower half, which she reluctantly inspected.

It felt like a train hit her the moment her eyes took in his long, athletic legs draped in her fiancé's old clothes. It wasn't a bad feeling; though painful, a fresh, welcoming relief soared through her soul. It felt like the sun falling on her face after a long storm, and her heart skipped with realization.

Her eyes shot up to his, and what she saw there she hadn't seen in forever. It was caring, dedication, and most of all, understanding.

"They-they're perfect for you." She admitted, checks flaming with embarrassment. "I'm glad I found a good use for them." To her surprise, a smile graced her lips, and she nodded.

"Thank you for that." Quinn spoke, tone rather candid, and very unlike him. "I'm grateful you deemed me worthy enough to wear them."

The implication hung in the room like a burning, heavy heat and she hastened to her room, only to hear him admonish "That kiss at the banquet was incredibly sexy, by the way, friend."

Sometime later, long after Robyn had finally settled into a reluctant slumber, she roused to feel a hot, masculine body molded around her backside, his arms caging her in protectively. Her body stilled in shock: the situation was inappropriate for their level of familiarity. Then again, she was aware the kiss they shared meant more to both of them than either verbally admitted.

"Quinn?" She whispered inquisitively, turning in his embrace.

His breath tickled her neck as he muffled out "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

"Your couch is superbly uncomfortable." He murmured, nuzzling his face into her shoulder, setting her skin on fire where his mouth teased her skin. "This is preferable. Also, you were shivering in your sleep. Are you alright with me being in bed with you?"

Robyn was shocked that she felt so uncharacteristically safe in his arms. She missed the luxury of having someone to sleep next to, and right now Quinn was providing a much-needed comfort. "Yes, that's fine-" she surprised herself, snuggling languidly into the softness of the mattress. His body responded immediately, and she burned bright red.

"-as long as you quit poking me." Her voice came out breathily.

"Blame your glorious ass." Came his husky reply.

Robyn screwed up her face. "That's disgusting, Quinn. You literally just had sex with someone else."

"True, but the whole damn time I was wishing she was you." He admitted lowly, lips moving sweetly on her skin as he spoke, and her heart picked up its staccato beat.

"Quinn..."

"I know, Robyn. I'll wait."

Her carefully guarded heart melted a little more with every word. "Thank you, Quinn."