Читать книгу His Kind of Perfection - Pamela Hearon - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

THE PARKING LOT of the gym was nearly empty. As he parked his truck, Kale was dreading the lecture ahead of him. He had his list of what’s-in-your-fridge to share with his new trainer, and from the looks of Ms. Not One Ounce of Extra Fat, she wouldn’t be pleased.

But he would face his punishment like a man. He deserved a lecture, though not because of the contents of his refrigerator. It wasn’t like he could control his freakin’ subconscious.

Wednesday night he’d gotten caught in the act of unabashedly checking out the ass of another guy’s wife. Oh, he’d covered well, but Bree Rice had seen through him, he was sure.

Married women were off-limits, sort of a “do-unto-others” standard he lived by.

But it wasn’t the ogling he was most ashamed of. It was the damn erections he’d woken up with for two mornings now, and the person in his dreams was his personal trainer.

Mrs. Gil Rice, he reminded himself for the twelve-gillionth time that day.

As he switched the ignition off, he closed his eyes and pushed Addy to the forefront of his mind. “I’m doing this for you, Addy.” He fixed her once again as his driving force.

Bree wasn’t difficult to spot through the weight room windows in her hot-pink and bright yellow shorts. Her back was to him, but Kale made a point of keeping his eyes focused on her top half this time. Gil, who was spotting her, acknowledged Kale with a nod as she lifted a barbell with a damn impressive amount of weight attached to each end over her head. Her movements were smooth, her posture perfect. She held the weight for a few seconds before squatting to settle the ends back on the stand.

She and her husband shared a high five, and he said something to her. She grabbed a towel and trotted out to meet Kale.

“Hi, Kale. You’re right on time.” Her face was flushed from exertion, making her smile seem to glow as they shook hands in greeting. “And you’re dressed and ready to go. I’m impressed.”

“I’m motivated for change,” he answered, keeping his eyes glued to her face and not allowing them to glance at the perfect cleavage peeking out of her sports bra.

“Then you might be my favorite client.” She laughed and the sound relaxed him. “So, did you bring your list?”

He pulled it from his jacket pocket in answer.

“Great. We’ll get to that later. I know you just finished work, and you’re probably anxious to get in a little cardio, so I thought we’d start you off with a half hour of circuit training. Then we’ll spend the last half hour going over your list and talking about some healthy eating habits. Sound good?”

“I’m putting myself in your hands.” Kale flinched inwardly at his unfortunate word choice. “Lead the way,” he added.

Bree escorted him to the circuit-training room, taking him from station to station, explaining how the weight machines and stationary bikes worked. The idea of staying on a machine for only one minute sounded weird, but once he got into the routine, it was nice in a mindless kind of way. Cycle hard for one minute, then, at the sound of the beep, move to a weight machine. Ten seconds to get the machine set. Another beep. Do as many reps as possible in one minute, then at the sound of the beep, move back to the bike. A full circuit around all the machines took twenty minutes, but with Bree’s ten-minute training on the machines, he found he was finished at precisely the time she had told him she’d be waiting. The woman was certainly efficient.

She met him at the door of the circuit room with a fresh towel. “I’m glad to see you’re sweating.” She really did look genuinely pleased as she led the way to her office. “Some people take it too easy in there.”

“Not me. I want to lose twenty more pounds by Christmas.”

He watched as doubt shadowed her light brown eyes. “That may be expecting a little too much. A healthy pace is one to two pounds a week.”

“Not fast enough. Two-twenty by December twenty-fifth.” That would be forty-three pounds from where he’d started.

“Sticking to a strict diet over the holiday season is almost impossible. I mean, it’s admirable you have such lofty goals, but I want you to be realistic above all else. Otherwise, you set yourself up for failure.”

“I won’t fail,” he assured her. “This is too important.”

She motioned to a chair in front of her desk and then scooted another one out from the wall so they could face each other comfortably with nothing between them. “Do you mind sharing with me what’s so important?”

Her tone was one a counselor would use, and, now that he thought about it, she was a counselor of sort. He decided to be completely up-front with her. “I’m trying to get my girlfriend back.”

Bree straightened in her chair. “By losing weight?”

Kale shrugged. “By trying to be a better me. I’ve gotten slack about a lot of things.” Honesty was one thing, but no way was he going to mention his depressed libido—especially with the woman who’d single-handedly jump-started it a couple of days ago. Married woman, he reminded himself. “I took her for granted. Let myself go. I figure a Christmas reunion would be the perfect gift to myself.”

Bree chewed her lip, obviously trying to decide what to say. “What you’re doing...what you’ve already done...is admirable. And I’m glad you’ve found something to motivate you. But...” Her eyes locked with his, and she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “It’s not a good idea to try to reinvent yourself for somebody else.”

Her words hit a nerve that had been exposed since childhood, and he felt his spine stiffen.

“Let’s switch it around in your head, okay?” she continued. “Let’s pretend you’re going to become the best you can be for you. And if she happens to find that irresistible, then she’s a lucky woman.”

Kale couldn’t hold back the chuckle. Here he was expecting some serious analysis of his psyche, and instead he was given an option to just pretend. Suddenly, the pressure had kicked down a notch. “I like that,” he admitted.

“Good. So, hand over the list of things in your fridge, mister.”

He slipped the paper into her outstretched hand.

She unfolded it and read the items out loud. “Three twelve packs of Miller 64. Half a bag of dill pickle chips. A small jar of mayonnaise with an expiration date of May 18, 2011. One half-empty carton of French onion dip. One can of Pillsbury Grand biscuits.” She turned the paper to check the back, and then looked up at him. “Is this it?”

He nodded and waited for the lecture.

“It’s Friday night,” she said. “Do you have plans?”

“None.”

She brightened. “Let’s go grocery shopping. We don’t have to buy anything, but I want to teach you how to shop.”

“But the other people coming in,” he protested. “Don’t you need to be here?”

“You’re my last client of the day. A couple of the part-time people will stay until nine.” She stood as if it were settled and grabbed the running suit hanging on a hook on her wall.

He tried again. “I don’t want you working overtime for me. Your husband will have my hide.”

She slipped into the pants. “Got you there. I’m not married.”

Her words exploded in Kale’s brain. “I thought you and Gil...”

“Gil’s my brother,” she explained as she tied the drawstring at the waistband. “My evil twin, actually,” she added with a grin.

The resemblance suddenly became obvious. He’d thought they were simply of-a-kind. In reality, they were the male and female sides of the same thing.

“C’mon.” Bree tilted her head toward the door. “If you’re going to lose those twenty pounds in nine weeks, you’ve got to do more than work out. You won’t succeed if your diet staple is—” she glanced down at his list again “—pickles smothered in French onion dip with Miller 64 to wash them down.”

Kale hesitated for only a minute. He had nothing better to do than spend Friday night at the supermarket with a beautiful, single woman.

He was, after all, doing this for Addy.

* * *

BREE WAS PLEASED to see Kale grab a shopping cart and wheel it into the grocery store. She’d thought they might simply take a tour with her pointing out the areas to hit and those to avoid, but the man seemed ready to do some serious shopping.

She was finally able to let her guard down and relax, and that alone had already made a world of difference with her new client. He’d gone from reserved to downright chatty once they’d gotten in his truck, telling her all about the marina and his new life on Kentucky Lake.

Bree felt liberated knowing that a woman was Kale’s motivation to go all out and change himself, even as misguided as that motivation was. It meant those Paul Newman eyes were off the market and allowed her to view him as she would any other client.

Well, maybe not any other client. There was something very special about Kale Barlow, and Bree was determined to help him show his girlfriend how special he was. Whatever he thought he needed to do to fix the broken relationship, Bree would help.

“What do you snack on?” she asked, tugging the cart toward the fresh produce section.

“I don’t snack a lot, but when I do, I usually grab an ice cream bar or a bag of chips.” There was nothing sheepish in his look, so he evidently thought that was acceptable.

“I want you to try something for a week, and we’ll see how it works,” Bree suggested. “Do you like apples?”

“Yep.” He nodded.

She picked out some Fujis and placed them in the cart. “Oranges?”

Another nod prompted her to add a bag of small mandarins.

“Grapes? Bananas? Nuts?”

He nodded at each one. “I like everything.”

Bree picked out some of each. “Then this should be a piece of cake. Well, not literally,” she added. “The key is to not let yourself get so hungry that you reach for the easy, processed stuff. When you get home, I want you to wash and dry all of this, and leave it out so you can get to it. Every couple of hours, I want you to eat a piece of fruit or a handful of nuts. Above all else, don’t get hungry. You’re still going to be getting calories, but we’ll cut down on the fat. And when it comes to mealtime, you won’t be so inclined to scarf down one of Mama G’s Specials.”

Kale’s eyes twinkled as he winced. “Guilty. A couple of times a week.”

“Everybody loves Mama G’s.” Bree couldn’t deny the wistful timbre in her voice. Of the things she’d given up for her healthy lifestyle, corn bread and Mama G’s Special were the two she missed most. She could still almost taste the mound of crusty mozzarella covering the pepperoni, hamburger, green pepper and Canadian bacon, even after a ten-year absence.

“Now you’ve got me craving one.” Kale’s confession drew her out of her reverie and reset her focus.

“You have a grill?” she asked.

“Gas,” he answered. “Not charcoal.”

“Even better. I’m going to tell you how to grill up a veggie pizza using flour tortillas as the crust that will have you throwing rocks at Mama G’s.”

Together, they picked out an assortment of vegetables that would be delicious grilled, baked or eaten raw. Kale really did like everything, and Bree wondered if that was part of his weight problem. Food was comfort and relaxation and all things good to him. Those feelings were usually tethered all the way back to childhood and family, so replacing them took a great deal of desire with a healthy side of courage. She knew that firsthand.

Around they went, Bree studiously keeping the cart to the outside aisles, even when Kale whined like a baby near the cereal and the pot pies. He picked out some steaks and ground beef that caused her to wrinkle her nose, but he let her know in no uncertain terms that red meat wasn’t negotiable. He stood his ground, and Bree was savvy enough to pick her battles.

At the very end, with the cart laden with mostly good-for-you foods, Bree finally pointed to the freezers containing ice cream. “I want you to pick out two pints of the most decadent stuff here, and, at the end of every long, hard day, I want you to indulge in a half cup. That’s a fourth of a container. Don’t eat it out of the carton, though. You have to promise to dish it out and take small bites, letting that creamy smoothness surround your tongue and your taste buds. I want you to savor every second of it.”

She swore the blue of Kale’s eyes deepened at least two hues as he leaned toward her. “You make that sound so sensual.” The huskiness in his voice sent a shiver scampering through her.

She covered her reaction by crossing her arms across her chest, pretending she was cold from the freezers. “Nothing’s sexier than food,” she told him. “Learn that secret, and...what’s her name?”

He looked confused. “Who?”

“The girlfriend that you’re working on getting back.”

“Oh. Addy.”

Bree leaned in and whispered, “Learn the secret correlation between sex and food, and Addy will worship at your feet.”

“Yeah?” A twinkle lightened the blue eyes back to their normal gorgeousness, and Kale stepped ceremoniously up to the freezer door and opened it. “Then I shall choose carefully.” A minute later, he brandished the two cartons in front of her. “I trust these meet your approval.”

She couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes at his choices—Tame the Wild Cherry and Hunky Banana with Nuts.

This guy was going to be a handful.

* * *

AS SHE WAITED for her ten o’clock client, Bree used the few minutes to jot some notes in Kale Barlow’s file.

He was as motivated as anyone she’d ever met—determined to the point of being stubborn, but with a comfortable manner that made his faults easy to overlook. She tried to imagine what Addy was like. What kind of woman wouldn’t enjoy being with a guy who even made buying groceries fun?

She recalled one of Kale’s comments during their shopping excursion last night when she’d suggested that, if he really wanted a flatter belly, giving up alcohol for a few weeks would make a visible difference.

The poor guy had looked aghast. “I’m already feeling guilty about drinking light beer while I listen to my country music. If I gave up beer completely, I’d have to switch to one of those classical stations.” He faked a shudder. “No woman is worth that.”

Bree chuckled aloud at the memory.

“You’re certainly in a good mood this morning.”

Bree looked up to find John Dunn standing in the doorway of her office.

“Morning, John. No sucking up here, but I really love this job.”

A smile relaxed the gym owner’s normally tense facial features. “I’m glad to hear that.” He stepped aside, and a young woman appeared from behind him. “I want to introduce you to Elena Fremont. She’s going to run the snack bar.” He turned to the young woman. “This is Bree Rice, Gil’s sister.”

To say she was surprised at John’s choice would have been an understatement. Elena looked nothing at all like someone Bree would have expected her serious-minded boss to hire. The young woman, or girl—it was hard to tell with all the makeup she wore—sported thick black eyeliner encircling large brown eyes, whose lids were heavy with lime-green metallic eye shadow. Her long, straight hair—obviously dyed to the abnormal black shade—had multicolored streaks running through it.

“Hi, Elena. It’s nice to meet you.”

Rather than shaking Bree’s extended hand, Elena slapped it lightly. “S’up. Call me Lanie.”

“Okay.” Feeling out of sync with the newcomer, Bree dropped her hand to her side. “You’re going to be busy...Lanie.” She forced her gaze to stay locked on the girl’s eyes instead of sneaking up to the three silver rings piercing the right brow or down to peek at the bright blue lip liner that called attention to the purple mouth. Or what looked like an emerald perched on the ridge of her left nostril. “A lot of the clients have been asking when the bar’s going to open.”

“That your sandwich in the fridge?” Lanie threw a thumb in the direction of the snack bar.

“Yes.” Bree nodded.

“You’ll have to get it out of there and put it in the employee lounge. I don’t want people using my fridge for stuff from home. Health inspectors, you know?”

Bree’s jaw tightened at the girl’s abruptness, but she held her tongue. She looked at John to see his response.

He seemed unfazed, except the perpetual frown was back. “Gil gave Elena total charge of the area. He’s anxious to get things moving.”

Bree swallowed her irritation. If Lanie was Gil’s choice, he must’ve seen some potential. She herself was living proof that, when it came to business decisions, he didn’t make exceptions. Everybody was held to the same strict standards.

Bree turned back to Lanie. “I’ll get it out of there right now.”

Lanie nodded as if to say, Of course you will, but, thankfully, didn’t say it.

“Bree is busy.” John pointed toward the weight room. “And I want to introduce you to the others.”

Without so much as a ta-ta or a backward glance, the two left Bree’s office. On her way to the snack bar, she paused just outside her door, watching them.

With her flip-flops, cutoff jean short shorts, Muppet T-shirt and studded dog collar, Lanie looked like a lost soul.

She either needed fixing or her ass kicked. At the moment, Bree wasn’t sure which.