The Mighty Quinns: Jack Read Free

spot to be alone was totally out of the question. What should a guy do in a situation like this?
    Kiss her. Every instinct in his body urged him forward, but yet Jack knew that he couldn’t do that. She was a stranger and he fancied himself a gentleman.
    “I—I really need to get inside,” she said. “I’m late.”
    “Oh, right,” Jack mumbled. “Sorry. I—I’ll just get out of your—”
    The moment he moved, she was gone, disappearing through the sliding-glass doors. He stepped back into the terminal to look for her, but she was already lost in the crowd. Somehow, at that moment, he realized he’d just let opportunity pass him by. What was this powerful attraction, to a complete stranger? And why now, of all days?
    He was thirty-one years old and happily single, although not necessarily by choice. He’d always thought that he’d know when the right woman came along. But even after six years with Melanie, the spark just wasn’t there.
    And here he was, nearly bursting into flames over a stranger. He cursed beneath his breath and brushed the image of the beautiful blonde out of his head, then walked back outside.
    He found his mother standing at the curb, staring at a black Mercedes sedan. The hazard lights were on, but there was no one behind the wheel. Airport security had just pulled up and was examining the car.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “Ben said he’d pick me up in a black Mercedes sedan,” his mother said. She glanced down the long walkway. “I wonder where he went?”
    Jack rolled his suitcase over to his mother. “Watch the luggage. Don’t talk to strangers. I’ll check to see if he’s inside.”
    In truth, Jack was more interested in finding the blonde, but he knew she was probably long gone. He hurried back through the doors, searching the crowd for a guy who looked like the man he’d seen on Ben McMahon’s Facebook page. But as he wove through the waiting passengers, he caught sight of a familiar face.
    There she was. The goddess, standing in a spot near some uniformed chauffeurs, holding a sign made out of crumpled paper. As he approached, he searched his brain for something to say. Maybe he should just be honest.
    “I’d really like to get to know you? Would you be interested in meeting me for a drink?” he murmured to himself. That seemed a little forward. “Hey, it’s you again. Sorry for getting in your way. Maybe I can buy you lunch.”
    He glanced down at her sign. Maybe he should just pretend he was the person she was looking for. Jack stopped short when he saw “QUINN” scrawled across the paper in ballpoint pen.
    “I’m Quinn,” he murmured. He hurried up to her, then cleared his throat. “Hey, there. I’m Quinn.”
    She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Sure you are.”
    “No, I am,” he said.
    “I’m here for an older woman named Elyse.”
    “That’s me,” Jack said. “I mean, that’s my mom. I’m her son. She’s waiting outside. Elyse Quinn.”
    She gave him a suspicious look, as if weighing the truth of his words against their previous encounter. “If this is just some come on, I really don’t have the—”
    He held out his hand. “Hey, I’m not messing with you. I’m Jack Quinn, Elyse’s son.”
    She took his hand, folding her fingers against his. The moment caused a tiny shock to rock his body. She had the most beautiful fingers and his mind automatically thought of what those hands might do to his body. He’d never realized that chauffeurs could be so sexy.
    “I’m Mia McMahon. I’m Ben’s daughter.”
    All his fantasies screeched to a halt and Jack tried to cover his stunned expression. “His daughter?” His mom had told him that Ben had three daughters, but he’d just assumed they’d be married, and living elsewhere. He searched her hand for a ring and found her fingers bare. For some reason, that made him happy.
    She smiled warmly. “I’m sorry. My dad sprained his ankle playing tennis this morning. He’s hobbling around on