Читать книгу His Kind of Perfection - Pamela Hearon - Страница 12
ОглавлениеSNACKING ON HEALTHY FOOD, eating smaller meals but more often, and two weeks of training with Bree had taken another six pounds off Kale. He couldn’t be more pleased...or more surprised.
Bree knew her stuff. She knew just how far to push him without making it grueling, all the while managing to keep things fresh and interesting. Like this evening. Her text simply read: Today we take it to the next level, which brought all kinds of wild imaginings into his head—none of which were appropriate in regard to his personal trainer. At their last session, she’d told him she had an idea, but it would remain a secret until tonight. She was coming to the marina, and he was instructed to wear something he could “knock around in.”
He had to admit, he was intrigued, which must have accounted for the way his heartbeat kicked up when he heard her pull into the parking lot. He hurried out to meet her.
“What’s this?” He pointed to the old pickup she crawled out of—a far cry from the little sports car she usually drove.
“My dad’s old truck.” Bree gave the door a loving pat. “It doesn’t get used much anymore, so I thought it was time we gave it—and you—a real-time workout.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they cut to the bed of the truck, which was loaded down with something heavy and covered with a faded blue tarp. “You have those work gloves I asked about?”
Kale pulled a pair from his coverall pocket and wiggled the loose fingers against her nose, drawing a girlish giggle. “I don’t have any smalls.”
“That’s okay.” She swiped the pair from him and slipped her hand into one of them. The glove dwarfed her hand.
“You want to take a look around before we get started?” He waved his hand toward the store and his home in the back.
She grinned and shook her head. “You’re stalling, Kale. Yes, I do want to look around. In fact, I want to have a good look around. But that can wait until we need a breather. First, we have business to attend to.” She tugged the tarpaulin, revealing the old truck’s mystery load.
Bricks. A huge pile of them.
Kale scratched his head. “What are we gonna do with these?
She smacked his biceps lightly with the back of her fingers. “We’re going to unload them.” Bree said it matter-of-factly, as if her intent was obvious. She glanced around and shrugged. “Where will they be out of your way?”
“Are they staying here?”
She nodded in response.
He looked around and pointed to a bare area where no grass grew just off the northeast corner of the parking lot. “I guess over there will be fine.”
Bree got back in the pickup. Throwing the vehicle into Drive instead of Reverse, she pulled to the southwest corner, as far away as possible from where he’d suggested.
“I said over there.” When she climbed from the cab, he took her shoulders and spun her to face the opposite direction where he pointed.
“I understand. I speaka de English.” She winked and elbowed him playfully before walking behind the truck and lowering the tailgate. “Let’s get to work.”
Kale pulled on his gloves and grabbed a brick in each hand. Following Bree’s lead, he marched across the parking lot, pumping his arms over his head, alternating hands. When they got to the far side, they placed the bricks on the ground, then did walking lunges back to the truck to retrieve four more bricks.
“I want to show you how you can make your workday into a workout,” Bree explained. “I know you’ve been making laps around the lot several times a day, but that must get boring.”
“Yeah.” His answer came out as a huff, which irritated him a little since Bree seemed to be having no trouble at all lunging, pumping the bricks and talking all at the same time.
“The trick isn’t getting into shape. Anybody with the desire can do that. The trick is staying in shape, and staying in shape requires staying in motion. The best way to stay in motion for a lifetime is to look for ways of using what’s around you and using your imagination.”
Each time they returned to the truck, Bree came up with a different style of movement. In addition to lunges, they race walked, jogged, ran, hopped, walked backward, and despite his protests that real men didn’t do such things, they skipped. Bree made the skipping lap into a race so his masculinity wasn’t too threatened. He won, though he wasn’t sure if that was deliberate on her part or not.
By the time they had transported and piled all the bricks, Kale had sweated through his thermal Henley and was wishing he’d worn something lighter.
When Bree jerked off her sock cap to reveal her short brown hair, plastered by sweat to her head, he felt better. But then, she bent over and shook it, slinging a few droplets his way, and running her fingers roughly through her hair. When she straightened up, little brown spikes shot from her head in all directions. The sight was sexy, in a weird sort of way, and he kept thinking how she might look after a night of wild sex. But if the woman was the least bit aware of her sexiness, it was well-hidden. Inadvertently adding to the allure, she removed her down vest and thermal shirt, revealing a long-sleeved tee that clung to her body and accentuated every curve. “I’m so hot!” she declared, and the smaller of Kale’s heads responded in enthusiastic agreement.
Damn good thing his coverall was finally fitting loosely. Otherwise, Bree Rice might get the wrong idea about him.
“Want the tour now?” he suggested. Anything to give him a reason not to stand and gawk.
She patted his face as if correcting a child. Tilting her head, she grinned. “We’re only halfway through.”
Kale’s fingers reflexively dug into his hips. “What in the hell are you talking about, woman?”
“We have to load all those bricks back in the truck. They’re not going to walk over there and jump in.”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to look menacing, yet knowing he couldn’t pull it off. “You said they were staying.”
“I lied.” She smiled sweetly and fluttered her eyelids.
He reached her in two steps, moving faster than he thought his tired legs would allow. “Nobody lies to Kale Barlow and gets away with it.” Effortlessly, he swept her up into his arms and started toward the floating walkway that led out to the marina.
“What are you doing?” She laughed, but the sound had an edge to it he couldn’t discern.
“Giving you the tour.”
“I’d rather take the tour walking on my own legs.” She pushed against him slightly, and he gripped her closer. “Put me down, Kale.” She tried again, harder this time, and he latched on that much tighter.
“Not gonna happen. And quit squirming or you’ll throw us both off.” By that time, his long stride had brought them to the end of the walkway.
Her gaze shot up to meet his, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He mimicked her grin from earlier and fluttered his eyelids as they passed the gas pumps. “Naw. Of course I wouldn’t.”
Her arms flew around his neck, and she held on with everything she had as they reached the end of the gas dock. “Kale, so help me...if I go in, so do you.”
He shrugged. “I can swim.”
“But that water’s cold.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you lied to me.” He let go of her legs to reach up and pry her hands from around his neck.
With a squeal, she threw her legs around his waist, locking them in back, and pushing body parts together in such a way that nothing was left to the imagination. She must have immediately recognized the absurdity of the position because she released her legs so fast, he couldn’t accommodate the shift in weight. He grabbed at her and leaned back, but the next instant, the cold water of Kentucky Lake engulfed them both.
The ten-foot depth shouldn’t have been a problem for a good swimmer, but suddenly Kale panicked. What if Bree couldn’t swim? She would have said something, right? He’d assumed she could, being so athletic, but he didn’t know for certain. Besides, the water was cold...she could have hit her head. He pushed to the surface, shouting her name as soon as the air hit his face.
“I’m right here.” Her elbows were already resting on the dock, head and chest out of the water, rivulets of water running down her face. Effortlessly, she thrust herself up and plopped to a seated position. “That was a stupid thing to do.” She raised an eyebrow in reproach, but her voice was calm with maybe a hint of humor.
“Yes, it was. I’m sorry.” Kale was still upset enough, it didn’t seem funny yet. He swiped a hand down his face to clear the lake water from his eyes. “I wasn’t really going to throw you in. I lost my balance.”
Bree shrugged. “Guess I want that tour now. And I’ll have to change clothes. I assume you have a working shower?” She started toward the truck.
Wait...she was going to shower? In his apartment?
Adrenaline flooded Kale’s system. Placing his hands flat on the wooden boards, he heaved himself up, not making it high enough to get his top half out of the water. He tried again...and failed again. And again.
Humiliated and exhausted, he finally gave up and let go, swimming to the boat ramp and trudging up the slope, shivering from the cold.
Bree met him at the top of the ramp. “I’m glad I didn’t have to come in after you. Two loads of bricks and a load of Kale is more than I can handle in one day.”
Two loads of bricks? “You can’t seriously still want to load the bricks back in the truck,” he growled, and then he got her meaning. “Hold on a minute. Are you telling me you loaded them by yourself the first time?”
She nodded.
A groan rumbled in Kale’s chest, but he caught it before it became audible. Damn, the woman was hard to keep up with...but, damn, what a woman!
A violent shiver shook Bree’s body, and she rubbed her arms briskly. “I need out of these wet things.”
“Get your clothes.” Kale was grateful when she stepped away from him toward the truck. He’d had an overwhelming urge to rub her, too, but not quite in the same brisk manner she’d used. His touch would be slow and deliberate...and he wouldn’t stop at her arms.
Stop, the voice in his head warned. Don’t mess things up with Bree. She’s a great trainer, and she’s going to help you get what you really want. For the first time in his life, he would be somewhere long enough to see a plan through to its end. Buy the marina and then settle down with Addy.
With her gym bag slung over her shoulder, Bree hurried along with him to his apartment, putting off the grand tour until they both had showered and donned dry clothes. And after that, he put the tour off a little longer to take care of some business that was eating at him.
He led her back outside to the parking lot, which was now bathed in silver light from a three-quarter moon. “Do you really want the bricks back in the truck?”
Her shoulders sagged momentarily, but then she straightened as if something occurred to her. “If I leave them, will you use them to work out?”
“Scout’s honor.” He’d never been a Boy Scout—had never lived anywhere long enough to become active in a troop. But he’d pretended to be one lots of times. Fact was, he’d pretended to belong lots of times...to many different things.
Bree’s pleasure at his answer brought a warmth to both her smile and her eyes.
“Let me prove I’m not lying.” He pointed to the tailgate of the truck. “Sit. And don’t even consider moving.”
She did move, but only a little, and that was to cheer him on as he made trip after trip, delivering the bricks to the southwest corner of the parking lot.
Aware he had Bree’s undivided attention, he even skipped a couple of times.
* * *
A RHYTHMIC MOTION was Bree’s first taste of consciousness the following morning. It was a subtle movement, barely there, foreign yet familiar at the same time.
Her eyes flew open to unfamiliar surroundings. Unfamiliar green walls. Unfamiliar four-poster bed. Unfamiliar motor sounds.
Where was she?
She sat up and breathed through the first stage of panic as the fog of sleep lifted.
Oh, God! She was in Kale Barlow’s apartment. In Kale Barlow’s bed.
The clock on the table read 5:41 a.m. Dawn was barely lighting the sky, and yet she heard voices drifting through the window that was raised a smidgen. Boats coming in for gas. Fishermen, surely, at this time of day.
She flung her legs over the side of the bed, thankful to find herself fully clothed in the yoga pants and top she’d changed into. At least she hadn’t done anything more than spend the night.
Or had she?
A vague recollection of a kiss scampered through her memory. A sleepy kiss good-night that had felt completely natural as Kale had laid her down and tucked her into his bed. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to squish the memory from her brain, but it wouldn’t budge.
The details flooded back in glorious detail—or gory, if she looked at it from the standpoint Gil would take. He would tell her that staying for a supper of Kale’s grilled vegetables and chicken, enjoying a glass of wine afterward around his campfire and getting caught up in the old movie Top Gun was stupid and inappropriate, but last night none of it had seemed that way. It had simply been a nice way to unwind with a friend after a hard workout.
She hadn’t counted on falling asleep during the movie. Hadn’t counted on Kale carrying her to his bed and tucking her in so sweetly. And, Lord knows, she hadn’t counted on kissing him good-night in her dreamy state.
It was just a silly mistake, and certainly she and Kale both knew that.
But Gil wouldn’t.
Thea had planned to stay at her brother’s place last night, so if Bree beat her home, she’d be none the wiser...and neither would Gil.
Bree hit the floor at a run, grabbing her clothes that Kale had washed, dried and stacked on the dining table.
Wow, that was thoughtful of him.
The sight of the pillow and blanket on the couch sent a pang of guilt through her. Not because she’d spent the night, but because a guy the size of Kale couldn’t possibly have found a comfortable sleeping position on that couch.
She dashed out, yelling a goodbye to her host, who was talking to a fisherman while he filled his tank.
“Bree! Wait up!” He caught her as she turned the ignition switch and her dad’s old truck roared to life. “Don’t you want some breakfast?”
When she rolled the window down, he leaned on his forearms through the opening, his face just inches from hers. She kept her expression serious, directing an intent gaze his way. “I can’t, Kale. I’ve got to get going. And I want to assure you I don’t make a habit of spending the night in my clients’ homes.”
She started to apologize for the kiss, but then decided the less said, the better. Maybe it had been her imagination. Or maybe it was such a minor incident Kale wouldn’t even remember it.
His eyes told her he was going to say it before the words left his mouth. “So no kiss goodbye?”
She groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate of me. I guess the wine took advantage of my exhausted state.”
He laughed, obviously delighting in her misery. “And you tried to take advantage of my exhausted state?”
“No!” Reluctantly, she raised her head to look him in the eye again. “But, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’ll be glad to refer you to Gil.” She didn’t add the action was sure to get her fired and maybe ruin her personal trainer career forever, at least in these parts. People around here speculated and then talked. Her fingers ached from gripping the steering wheel too hard.
Kale straightened and put his hands on his hips. “Damn, Bree. You think a little kiss that didn’t mean a damn thing is going to make me uncomfortable? I’m Addy’s man, remember? And I don’t want Gil for a trainer. I want you. Look at the progress we’re making.” He held his arms out and did a three-sixty turn for her.
“You are looking pretty good.” She wasn’t sure the weight loss had anything to do with her answer.
“Damn straight. So rid that pretty head of yours of any thoughts about trading me, you hear?”
Her grip on the steering wheel relaxed. “Yeah.” She gave him a smile. “I hear.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and waved, part of her anxious to be on her way, yet another part wishing she could take him up on his offer of breakfast.
A weird mixture of happiness and melancholy settled on her as she drove back to Benton. The kiss notwithstanding, last night had been relaxing. She couldn’t remember when she had slept so hard or awakened so refreshed. Maybe it was being on the lake with the sound of the waves and the ever-so-gentle rocking of the building that made the rest of the world seem far away and her dad so near. Being at Dilly’s old place reminded her of good times when she’d been there often as a kid. And although a lot of things were different, it still felt like a good place to be. Kale had kept her laughing, and the improvements he wanted to make to the marina were impressive. It had been fun to listen to the excitement in his voice when he spoke of his vision for the place, like how someday he wanted to expand the property into a camping resort.
He had drive and a charisma that drew people in like nails to a magnet. Or was that part just her? She wasn’t sure. He didn’t talk about friends—except Beecher, whose family had always owned the marina just at the edge of Taylor’s Grove. She’d gone to high school with Sol, the current owner. And, of course, there was the ever-present-in-his-thoughts Addy.
Stupid woman.
But he’d become a tough nut to crack when any mention of family was made. His childhood must’ve really sucked.
Her anxiety left when she pulled into the driveway and saw Thea’s vacant parking place. She hurried in for a quick shower and a change of clothes since the ones she had on looked as if she’d slept in them.
She was feeding Dandy when Thea came in and headed straight for the coffeemaker.
“Good morning. You’re up and about early.” Thea looked rumpled, but there was an unmistakable glow about her that made Bree jealous and happy at the same time.
Bree stretched her arms overhead. “I slept great last night, so I thought I’d go in and work out before I begin my paperwork.”
“Well, don’t expect Gil to get there early. When I left, he was still snoozing.” Her head tilted, and she gave a tender smile. “He’s so cute when he’s sleeping.”
Bree snorted. “That’s because it’s the only time he’s not being annoying.” It ran through her mind that Kale had seen her sleeping. Did he think she was cute when she slept? And then the fact the thought even came to mind was disturbing, and she flushed. She covered by squatting to give Dandy a parting scratch. “Well, gotta go. I want to get in an hour of spinning before the day starts.”
Thea turned on the faucet to fill the coffeemaker. “See ya,” she called over the sound of the running water.
Bree decided against jogging to the gym and drove instead. Thinking of Dad had put her in the mood for lunch with Mom.
She was surprised to find Lanie’s car already at the gym. The nineteen-year-old had turned out to be not so bad once they’d gotten past their awkward beginning. Oh, she was definitely rough around the edges, but she was a hard worker and prompt—she was already at the gym at 6:48 a.m. when she didn’t start until 8:30 a.m.
With some encouragement from Bree, Gil had talked to her about her clothes. She’d told him it was all she had. Her dad had kicked her out of the house, and she was living with her unemployed boyfriend, barely scraping by. She’d even been forced to drop out of the food service classes at the community college. Bree and Thea had come up with some workout attire for her that helped her fit into the atmosphere of the gym. She’d insisted she didn’t want a handout, so they’d counter-insisted she could pay them back when she got a little ahead.
Lanie was a sad case, and her upbringing so different from Bree and Gil’s, it was hard for Bree to imagine what the girl was going through.
Bree expected to be assaulted by the fabulous aroma of Lanie’s homemade granola bars when she walked in the gym—why else would she be there so early?—but no yummy scent greeted her.
In fact, nothing greeted her. No movement. No sound.
An eerie feeling raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
“Lanie?” she called. No answer. And she wasn’t at the snack bar.
Bree made a quick survey of the free-weight, cardio, circuit and group class rooms through the windows. All empty. “Lanie?” she called again, louder this time. Still no answer. All of the offices remained locked.
So Lanie wasn’t here after all. Her car was parked in the same space as yesterday, so perhaps someone had picked her up and she’d left it there all night.
Satisfied with that explanation, Bree headed toward the small library to pick out a spinning DVD. Maybe a ride along the Pacific Coast Highway—something to keep that nice feeling of waking up on Kentucky Lake in her system awhile longer.
She flipped the light on, bringing a startled scream from inside the room, which shook a yelp from Bree in turn.
“Lanie! You scared the wadding out of me!”
The girl had been asleep on the couch and had gone from lying down to an upright position too quickly. She clutched her head, and leaned back, eyes wide with fright, and apparently too shaken to speak.
Bree assessed the situation. A small bag on the floor beside the couch. The workout clothes, folded and obviously being used as a pillow. A light jacket draped across the front of her arms for cover. “Did you sleep here last night?”
Lanie nodded. “Iz and I had a fight. He kicked me out, and this seemed like a better option than sleeping in the car.” She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but Bree noticed the quiver of her chin—a break in her usual demeanor.
“I’m sorry.” Bree sat down beside her. “What are you going to do?”
Lanie shrugged again. “I thought maybe I could stay here. I mean, there are showers and a kitchen.” She looked at Bree, her voice becoming more animated as she talked...more pleading. “I can bake the snacks after hours, and—and clean up, and launder the towels, and wipe down the equipment.”
“Lanie.” Bree shook her head. “You can’t live here. Gil would never go for it.”
Fear flashed in Lanie’s wide eyes. “If you think it’ll make him mad, you won’t tell him I stayed here last night, will you?”
As long as it was only the once, Bree thought it would be okay if her brother didn’t know. “I won’t tell him, but it can’t happen again. Do you have somewhere else you can go? To a friend’s?”
Lanie shook her head.
“Back to live with your dad?”
“No.” The girl was adamant about that one.
“Well, let’s put your stuff in my office for now.” Bree got up and placed the stack of clothes into the open gym bag, her mind spinning for possibilities. “Maybe you could stay with Thea and me until we find someplace else.” She knew she shouldn’t be volunteering that idea until she’d talked with Thea, who was the owner of the house. And all they could offer her would be a couch.
“I don’t want to be in the way.” Lanie slipped the jacket on, then took the bag from Bree and zipped it.
“We’ll figure out something,” Bree assured her as she led the way to her office.
No sooner had she gotten the door open than Lanie grabbed her stomach and cried, “Oh, shit.” Then she leaned over and puked into the trash can by Bree’s desk.
Bree looked on, horrified by this quick turn of events. “Lanie...are you?”
Lanie straightened and wiped a shaky hand down her ashen face. “Pregnant. That’s why Iz kicked me out.”
