Page 45 of Home Coming

What the fuck? How the hell did they find her here so fast?

He’d been caught in the middle of many an attack in his years in the military. They trained to be prepared for even the surprise ambushes.

They were taught to be on constant alert. To always expect the unexpected. But he hadn’t been expecting an attack while walking Bailey out of a radio station in Manhattan.

Given they’d encountered the paparazzi once already while coming out of the recording studio, he should have known better. He wouldn’t be caught by surprise again.

Luckily training kicked in. Quinn snapped into protective mode—one arm around Bailey, one out as he cut a path through the press of reporters between them and the parked vehicle.

Quinn had to think that although Bailey’s manager was overbearing and bossy, Xander was correct about one thing. Bailey needed security. And as frightening as the thought was, if he hadn’t happened to be there—at the right place and the right time—he’d bet she wouldn’t have hired protection.

Shouting questions was one thing, but the close proximity and aggression of some of the paparazzi created a very real physical threat.

“Back off,” he warned in a tone he hoped conveyed that he wouldn’t hesitate to use all of his skills to defend Bailey.

He unlocked and swung open the door and, head down, Bailey slid into the passenger seat. When she lifted her face to glance at him he saw how scared she was.

Cussing under his breath, he slammed her door and, not trusting anyone, clicked the key fob to lock her inside while he moved around to the other side. With a warning glare at those who dared to move too close to the vehicle, he unlocked the door, slid inside and engaged the locks again in a matter of seconds.

Glancing at her, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

Listening to her tone, not her words, he decided she was not fine. But she would be. As soon as he could get her out of this God forsaken city and back upstate.

Although, given that people now knew who he was, being home was no guarantee they’d be paparazzi free.

He should probably call Josie and make sure there weren’t any reporters staked out in front of his parents’ house.

Thank goodness his mother was on that cruise. She probably would have invited the paparazzi in from the cold for dinner. That was the kind of woman she was.

Quinn navigated out of the parking space, possibly bumping one of the photographers—unintentionally of course—with the rearview mirror on the way.

He had no intention of getting into a chase with the photographers, but he did need to get away from them so he could talk to Bailey. Call Josie. Basically regroup. Form a game plan.

Spotting a restaurant with valet parking out front, he glanced at the clock in the dash, did a quick calculation as to when they’d get home if they stopped, then swung in.

Bailey’s head came up. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you—and me—something to eat. It’s been hours since those scrambled eggs.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, wide-eyed.

“Yup.” He nodded as the valet waited for him to unlock and open the door.

“They’re probably going to write that we came here on some sort of a… date.” Bailey could barely look at him as she said it.

He leaned forward enough to catch her eye. “Bailey, I don’t give a fuck what they write. Come on.”

Opening the door, Quinn didn’t miss the guy’s focus flick to take in the amount of stuff tightly stowed in the vehicle.

Acting as if he normally drove around with an entire apartment in the back, Quinn didn’t offer any explanation as he accepted the parking slip with a quick, “Thanks.”

So far, the plan was working. There was only room for one car in front of the restaurant by the valet stand so Quinn got Bailey out of the car and in the door before the paparazzi could get to them.

Of course, they’d be waiting for the two of them to come out, but that was a problem for later.

“Reservations?”

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