by Leslie North
That was Michelle.
As an actual mother and a woman not afraid to use her mouth—or her training expertise—she’d found a good home on the Seagulls squad. Here she was, living her dream, making more money than she’d dreamed possible back when she started the long road toward physical training.
And now Blake Harrison is about to take you out on a date.
Okay, that was a massive exaggeration. Combing through his own training equipment was hardly a date. If anything, it was the textbook definition of work. He didn’t know what he was doing, so he needed an expert to help guide him. Fair enough. Even if, deep down, there was a part of Michelle that wondered what it would be like to date someone like Blake—a guy who seemed straight out of a modern-day fairy tale—her ex had cured her from believing in happily ever afters. There would be no dating for her—certainly not anytime soon.
Footsteps approached the gym, causing Michelle to straighten. But then she slouched slightly, trying to affect the perfect casual pose. She smoothed down the front of her pants, thinking maybe she looked too prim…too professional. Even though that was what she was going for, she didn’t want to overdo it. No, she wanted to walk that careful line between someone Blake would notice…but then absolutely not go after.
Easy peasy.
“Michelle, hey!” Blake’s grin made the sunlight bathing the gym pale in comparison. All of her tension dissolved immediately as he headed her way, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress slacks.
There was something about a businessman that always got her, but on Blake, it hit her just a little harder. Between his broad shoulders, his longish chestnut hair, and that heartbreaker grin on his face, Michelle would have to be careful not to fall in love with the man. Especially since he looked like a man who worked out. She’d seen the swell of his biceps through his dress shirt yesterday when he’d come in to get his face cleaned up. And she hated to admit just how curious she was about what he looked like under his pressed, perfectly-tailored clothes.
“Hello, Blake.” She sent him a sweet smile, craning to look at the side of his face as he approached. “You seem to be healing nicely.”
“Yeah, I guess I’ll survive after all.” He grinned down at her, his gaze washing over her so intensely that, for a moment, she forgot what she was doing here. What this was about. Blake’s attention had so fully consumed her that when she went to speak, she couldn’t even find her voice.
“Are we ready to go in?” he finally asked.
“Yes, please. Though you’ll have to explain more about what you’re looking for today,” she said as she led the way into the training facility. This complex was one of the lesser-used gyms in the team’s network of training fields and properties, but it was just as impressively well-outfitted and modern as the rest of them. Their footsteps scuffed quietly as they entered the cavernous gym, the steel gray walls lined with framed photographs from throughout the team’s decades-long history.
“Well, as you probably are aware, I bought the team just over two years ago,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked around the gym. “As you can imagine, there’s been a lot to attend to, and I’ve only recently been able to turn my attention to the actual training facilities. I’m sure there’s a lot here that could use some updating.” He paused, pointing at a bicep curl machine nearby. “This is a good example. This thing looks ancient, right?”
Michelle tilted her head, examining the machine. She wouldn’t call it ancient, but it certainly showed signs of use. “It’s an older model, but it’s got some mileage left on it.”
“All I need to hear is the word ‘older.’” Blake pocketed his hands again, pursing his lips as he examined the room. “I want everything to be fresh. Modern. Completely new.”
She frowned, trying to follow his gaze. “Even if the current equipment is perfectly fine?”
He snapped his fingers, turning to her. “That’s what I want you to tell me. On a scale of crap to ten…where do these pieces fall?”
She smiled, pulling her wraparound a little tighter around her. These gyms were always kept at just above freezing, and she’d always been a cold person. Her mother always joked that even in the desert, Michelle would wish it was just a touch hotter. “Crap to ten?”
“Exactly. That’s the scale we’re using.”
“Perfect. All right then, let’s see.” She began a slow walk down the main aisle of the gym, pausing at each piece of equipment to check it out. She looked at the bench press, at two rowing machines, at a full wall of dumbbells and three squat racks. As she inspected the pieces, she explained to Blake the minimal signs of wear as she saw them, along with the signs of dangerous wear that she didn’t see—no seats or bases that seemed wobbly or unstable, no tension lines that seemed ragged or frayed. But once she was done checking everything out—including a wall of resistance bands—the conclusion was more than clear.
“Everything looks like it’s fine, honestly,” she said. “On your scale, I’d say they all fall at about an eight.”
He smirked, running his palm over the worn edges of the bench press seat. “And this?”
“Perfectly fine.”
“It looks a lot like crap to me,” he said.
“Crap would mean it has no value, and that’s not the case with any of these machines. Everything here is in perfect working order. Older, but still with plenty of life left,” she said. “Like this rowing machine here. I’d take something like that in a heartbeat if I found it on auction or something.”
Blake sent her a mysterious smile. “Well, that’s good to know. I’ll just donate it then.”
Her eyes widened. “So you want to get rid of all this and buy new? Even though it’s all still workable and only gently used?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
The suggestion was shocking to her, but she wasn’t sure how to convey that to someone like him. After all, he was wealthier than she could probably even imagine. And yet even if she won the lottery tomorrow, she couldn’t imagine herself being wasteful. It just wasn’t something she’d ever allow herself to be. She cleared her throat, looking down at her shoes, not failing to notice the broken shoestrings she’d tied together, to avoid having to buy new ones.
“I think my shoestrings explain everything,” she said with a laugh, lifting up a foot for him to see. “I broke my shoestring the other day. But instead of buying a new one, I used a Girl Scout knot. It probably falls on the crap side of your scale.”
Blake watched her for a moment, curiosity burning in his gaze. She knew nothing about him, so maybe the glint in his eyes was veiled disgust. It wouldn’t surprise her—her ex had mocked her frugality, and he hadn’t been anywhere close to Blake’s level of rich.
“But then again, I hold on to everything until I’m forced to throw it away,” she said, tightening her wrap around her. She didn’t need to show him the holes dotting the tank top underneath her work shirt. Yet another item she planned to wear as long as she could get away with.
“So you would keep the equipment,” he said slowly.
“As long as it’s safe and functional, why not?”
He smirked again. “I would consider keeping it all for a few more months, tops. I will be buying new equipment for this gym. But I’m glad to have your professional opinion that it can still be used, and possibly for a long time. Now I’ll just have to decide where to donate it.”
“I can help with that,” she said. “I’m still fairly new in town, but I’m sure there are organizations in San Francisco that would love to receive donated equipment like this. I can find the right contacts.”
That heartbreaker smile returned, and a dimple in his cheek flashed. “Great. I’d appreciate that.” He paused, his gaze raking over her body again. “Listen, do you have any plans for lunch?”
Her stomach grumbled immediately, as though on command. “Not exactly. Just was planning on heading back to the main gym and eating my packed lunch.”
“Can I tak
e you out for a bite to eat? I want to thank you for coming out here to go over everything with me. And I know that you took time out of your workday.”
Her cheeks immediately heated up. The rational side of her knew that this was just a formal thank you from a man who regularly wined and dined everyone he did business with. But it still sounded like a date. And that was exciting just to think about, regardless of whether she needed, expected, or even wanted it to be real.
“It’s really no problem,” she said. “This is part of my job, after all.”
“Sure. So you’ll let me thank you? Lunch is on me, remember.”
She grinned. “I’ll let you thank me.”
He jerked his head toward the door, and the two of them filed out back into the sunny but cool late winter afternoon. The sun was brilliant, but the air was crisp in the tree-shaded walkway as they headed toward the parking lot. She tightened her wraparound around her, smiling out at the precision-manicured lawns of the baseball fields surrounding the gym. She’d always loved working with the human form, and helping people get better, but she’d really grown to love sports training and therapy in particular. And over the past six months, these baseball diamonds had grown to feel like a new home as well as a new start.
“Where would you like to eat? There’s an amazing pizzeria nearby, but my personal fave is that café right near headquarters. Have you been?”
Of course she hadn’t been. She never went out to eat when she was at work, not when she could just pack her own lunch. “I didn’t even know there was a café nearby, but I’d love to try it out.”
“They have a smoked salmon dish that is amazing. Capers and everything.”
Excitement prickled through her. If she had been to that café before, she’d never splurge for something that fancy. But it would be nice to treat this business lunch as a chance to indulge.
“I already want it. I love seafood.”
“You do? Then there is this other place you need to check out sometime,” Blake said as they hit the parking lot. He stopped walking suddenly, looking over at her. “Do you want me to drive?”
She blinked. “Uh, maybe?” Truth was, she did. The thought of being alone with him in tight quarters was oddly exciting.
He nodded, waving his hand in the air as he headed for a car. At first, she didn’t understand what was happening…until the engine turned over and the car began creeping toward them. A slick, boxy SUV pulled up, matte black and looking like some sort of futuristic take on the crossover between military and consumer vehicles. She furrowed her brow as the SUV slowed to a stop in front of them. Blake opened the back door.
“After you.”
She climbed in, still not entirely sure if this was one of those new-fangled self-driving cars. She wouldn’t put it past Blake. But as she slid into the buttery-soft back seat, she spotted the driver in the front. This wasn’t a robot car. Blake just had a personal driver.
“I like your car,” she said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear as she settled into her seat. “It’s the fanciest I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Blake said, just as the car began moving—no, floating. It drove softly, as though it was on clouds. “There are only twenty-five like it on the entire planet.”
Her eyes widened. “Wow. Can your car sign an autograph? Because I’m pretty sure it’s a celebrity.”
“I’m pretty sure it could leave a tire print on a piece of paper, which might as well be the same thing,” Blake said with a laugh.
“I’ll take it. Though I doubt I could convince my daughter to think it’s cool.”
“Oh? You have a daughter?”
Something inside her tensed, wondering if there was more to his easygoing question than what she expected. She hadn’t tried dating since her ex—not truly—but she’d always imagined that being a single mother in the dating pool would be complicated, at best.
“Yes,” she answered breezily. “Her name is Mollie. She’s five, and obsessed with anything that resembles a horse.”
Blake laughed. As the car glided into traffic, hardly making a sound, her gaze swept over the lush, matte black interior. This man was not only wealthy, he spent his money—his life—any way he chose. Even this amazing car would probably be discarded in a year for the latest model, just to have new.
She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. She had nothing invested in Blake. No chance at a relationship. But still, the differences between them chafed at her. They weren’t just numerous, they were vast. Engulfing.
Which was for the best, of course.
Because she needed to be smart. Which meant recognizing Blake for what he was.
The most handsome, most ineligible-to-her bachelor of the world.
3
Two days after his “first date” with Michelle, Blake was still thinking about her. Wondering how he could push forward with this stupid bet without making it totally obvious, or weirding Michelle out.
It was clear to him: she was beautiful, respectable, and not only that, a mother. Their first lunch out had been quick and fun, but also revealing. And yes, she was pretty enough to make him want to take her out on a date for real, beyond the scope of the bet. But moving forward seemed precarious.
She was part of his business empire—and, moreover, a check of her personnel file showed that she was an employee they’d been very lucky to get. She was good for the program, not to mention a good person overall, and Blake wanted to make sure she didn’t suffer any fallout just because she’d had the bad luck to be chosen as the object of some stupid bet. That meant it wasn’t as simple as inviting her out five times and then disappearing forever.
He just had to figure out how to take the next step.
“Blake, don’t forget—you have the stadium get-together tomorrow evening.” His secretary, Jana, came into his office, her iron-gray hair pulled back into a low bun. She was the glue that held his professional life together, and he wasn’t sure where he’d be without her dry humor and attention to detail.
“Wait. That’s tomorrow already?”
She pursed her lips. “I’ve been reminding you all week.”
“Yeah, but I thought we still had two more days.”
“We did—yesterday,” she said with a smirk.
He sighed. “All right. Remind me of the details?”
“It’s the quarterly event for your employees to bring their families and meet the baseball team. You’ve skipped out on the past three times.”
He grimaced, tapping his knuckles against the desk. “Right.” It wasn’t that he’d intended to skip it for most of the year. It had just…happened. Things always came up. But he wanted to stay in good standing with all the employees of his empire. And that meant making time for things like this.
“It starts at six tomorrow,” Jana quipped, turning on her heels. “Don’t miss it.”
Once she was back at her desk just outside his office, Blake began mulling over his plans for tomorrow. The quarterly event sounded like a perfect way to get a second date in with Michelle. And if he was being honest…it would even help his image to bring her along. Two birds, one stone. He grabbed for his cell phone and called her before he could think twice.
“Hello?” When she answered, she sounded breathy, which sent prickles through him. He wet his bottom lip, temporarily forgetting what he wanted to say, now that fantasies of what she might be wearing began assaulting him.
“Uh…Michelle.” He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching at the bridge of his nose. In his mind’s eye, he could see her—in the standard issue blue polo and chinos that she’d worn the last two times he’d seen her. How could such a boring uniform seem so erotic when he pictured it on her? “How are you? Am I interrupting anything?”
“No, I just got done with a few assessments. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I had this idea I wanted to run by you.” He pushed to standing, opting to pace his office while he spoke.
“Oh. Am I your internal confidante now?” The tone of her voice told him she was teasing.
“Maybe you are,” he said, pausing by the window, wondering if she was in the gym that he could see just beyond the slope of trees to the west. “Would that be a bad thing?”
She laughed softly. “No, it would be fine. I’d like it.”
He smiled, even as he realized that they were flirting. Again. It had been just like this at their quick lunch the other day. With her, it was too easy to fall into an easy rapport. And he liked going there with her.
But he needed to focus. Because this wasn’t about floating off together. This was about winning the bet and getting DJ Fiesta on the ticket at his nightclub.
“Well, I’m not sure if you’ve been before, but I put on these quarterly events where employees can come in and meet the team with their families. I know you’d have no need to meet the team, since you work directly with the players, but I thought you might want to join anyway. It’s a good chance to socialize, meet everyone’s families, get to know people outside of a work context,” He trailed off, his throat going dry. Yes, this was a work-related outing, but going together—to an event where people usually brought their spouses and significant others—definitely felt more serious than most of his dates. The idea made him queasy, but he barreled on anyway. “It would be fun for the families to meet you as well. Being that you’re responsible for, you know, keeping them healthy and in one piece.”
“Oooh. Wow, that is a good idea,” she said, something warm and pleased in her voice that had a peculiar effect on him. His forearms prickled and he tucked the cellphone beneath one ear, studying the gym complex more intently. Wondering if he might catch her wander out of the building to soak in the sunlight while they spoke. Wishing that she might.