by Mia Sosa
Suddenly, her brain registered that Daniel wasn’t wearing a suit, or even a dress shirt and slacks. “Daniel in casual clothes. Give me a minute to take this in.” She stepped back, nearly bumping into the person in front of her.
Daniel, meanwhile, removed his sunglasses and waited for her inspection.
Daniel in athletic shorts and a tank top.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
Mimi coughed to cover her reaction. Her brain, meanwhile, sizzled like a frying egg in a skillet.
Fuck me.
Fuck me well.
Fuck me really well.
His broad chest made the tank top inadequate for anything other than covering his pecs. His arms, as blessed as they were with well-defined muscles, had nothing on his legs. More specifically, his thighs. Which suggested he did quite a bit of strength training when he wasn’t styling his perfect hair.
“Wow. Okay. So you don’t pop out of bed in a suit. This is refreshing to see.”
And titillating, too. But she’d never admit that to him.
He smirked at her. “If you must know, I typically pop out of bed naked. In my experience, clothes tend to restrict your ease of movement when you’re...uh…sleeping.”
Was she picturing him naked? Of course. But she refused to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his comment. Pretending not to have heard it, she rushed forward to the sign-in table when another runner relinquished his place.
A woman dressed in athletic wear smiled from her seat behind the table and asked for Mimi’s name.
Mimi bent over the table and whispered her given name, the one she didn’t want Daniel to hear.
“Found it,” the woman said. “Here’s your number plate and safety pins. Good luck.”
“Thanks.”
Mimi shifted to her left and waited for Daniel. In the meantime, she pinned the laminated number plate on the front of her shirt.
“Name, please?” the woman asked Daniel without looking up from her clipboard.
“Daniel Vargas.”
The woman’s head shot up. “Daniel! What are you doing here?”
Daniel gave the woman a wide smile. “Hey, Beth. Just having a little fun for a good cause. Good to see you.”
“Yeah, yeah. Good to see you, too. You headed up to the Spartan Run next week?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Spartan Run? What were they talking about? Mimi edged closer to the table. “What’s the Spartan Run?” she asked them.
“One of the most challenging mud runs out there. Your friend Daniel here came in second last year.”
Mimi gave him a sidelong glance. “Did he now?”
Beth nodded. “Sure did. The man’s a legend among mud running enthusiasts in this area. Gunning for first place this year, Daniel?”
“I’m certainly going to try.”
“Well, this should be a piece of cake for you,” Beth added.
“Not sure about that. Thirty obstacles.”
Beth laughed. “These obstacles are nothing like Spartan. Not even close.”
Mimi smiled at them while she seethed inside. He was a mud runner, and he hadn’t said a thing. And he’d suckered her into thinking this would be a real challenge for him. If she called him on it, he’d point out that she’d never asked. The rat.
She balled her hands into fists and let out a slow breath.
After they’d stepped a few feet away from the sign-in area, she spun around to confront him. “You pretended you knew nothing about mud runs, you cheat!”
“Not so. I asked you about the Dirty Thirty, which I’d never heard of. You assumed everything else.”
After hearing the trace of humor in his voice, she stomped off. Exactly what she’d figured he would say. Whatever.
“You’ll still get your selfie,” he called after her.
Grrr. “No, thank you. I don’t want it anymore,” she shouted over her shoulder.
Minutes later, they stood hip to hip, waiting for the signal to begin the course.
“Are you going to ignore me the entire race?”
She kept her head pointed toward the starting line as she stretched her calves. “Yup.”
“C’mon, Mimi.” He faced her and bent his knees so that he was eye level with her. “How can I make it up to you?”
“You can stick a handful of mud up your—”
“Tsk, tsk.” He straightened to his full height. “I’ll tell you what. Let me give you a head start. You can say you beat my time.”
“Oh, we’re adding a heavy dose of chauvinism to your long list of admirable traits, I see.” She raised her hands over her head and then shook them out, loosening her muscles. “No, thanks. I don’t need your charity.”
He placed his hand on her arm, his brown eyes looking more earnest than she’d ever seen them. “Hey, I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just having some fun, but I did it at your expense. Sorry.”
What was happening here? Why did she now feel like the death of the party? “Is this some kind of diversionary tactic?”
Before he could respond, the bullhorn sounded and the crowd moved together in one heavy clump. So much for being off with a bang.
Daniel held out his hand. “Here, I’ll lead you to the front.”
She was in danger of being squeezed between two tall men, so she reluctantly took his hand. “This is the only time I’ll accept your help, so savor it.”
He stroked the underside of her wrist with his thumb. “I will.”
She snatched her hand away like she’d touched a hot stove. “Down, boy.”
“You want a shot at winning this thing?”
“Why else would I be here?”
“We’ll have a better chance of that if we work together.”
“Okay, lead the way.”
And so he did, pointing out the rocky paths and steering her toward trails that would be easier to traverse. They ran a fifth of a mile before reaching the mud pit. By then, they’d managed to create significant distance between them and the largest group of mud runners.
He turned to her. “The key to this is not to jump in with both feet. The mud at the bottom is like cement. Put one foot in first and get your bearings.”
“I’ve done this before, Daniel.”
“I forgot.”
Damn proud of her accomplishments thus far, she gave him a satisfied smile. “Came in first place, too. In the women’s twenty to twenty-nine category.”
“Well, let’s do this then.”
“Let’s.”
They sloshed through the mud. Mimi had been careful to wear an extra-long T-shirt, just in case her shorts rode low or her top shifted. Her first mud run had been a different story—and she’d ended up looking like Ms. January in a female mud wrestler calendar. Never again.
She’d forgone socks and tied her sneaker laces around her ankles so she wouldn’t lose them. No way would she be taking them home, but she planned on dumping them in the donate pile at the end of the race. The mud slid into her sneaks, and she relished the feel of the wet dirt against her skin.
Daniel, meanwhile, rubbed the mud on his arms. “Feels good, right?”
“It does. It was weird the first time I did one of these runs, but now I’m kind of addicted.”
“Well, what do you know, we have something in common.” He moved forward, brushing his body against hers. Then he ran his muddy finger down the center of her nose. “Now you’re ready.”
A few runners trudged through the mud, but she didn’t care.
“Oh. Game on, Vargas.” She scooped a handful of mud and dumped it on his head. But she didn’t stop there. Next, she massaged his scalp like she was shampooing his hair. “How does that feel?” she asked.
“Glorious,” he said. “Sensual. You’re very good at this.”
She dropped her hands. “Ugh. You’re such a pervert.”
He laughed, but his laughter died quickly. “Um, Mimi. We should get going.”
“Why?
What’s wrong?”
She turned to see a group of runners barreling toward the mud pit. “Oh, shit. Let’s go.”
For the next fifteen minutes, they tackled the obstacles side by side, first getting through the tire course and then crawling under the wire netting. When they reached the climbing wall, Mimi bent at the waist, her lungs burning. This is hard. She straightened and shook out her arms and legs. When she peeked at Daniel, he was covered in grime but hardly out of breath.
“Go ahead without me,” she told him between breaths. She again leaned over and placed her hands on her knees. Dammit. She’d been in better shape for the last race. It figured she’d invite Daniel to the one where she’d embarrass herself. “Go ahead,” she repeated. “You can place in the run.”
Daniel circled back to her and crouched on one knee, his face level with hers. “I’m not leaving without you, soldier. Get your butt in gear. We’re doing this together or not at all.”
She burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. No need to be so dramatic.”
She rose and let him lead her to the wall. “I’m going to need your help, but if you use this as an excuse to touch my ass, you’ll be sorry.”
“Um. Have you looked at yourself lately? Believe me, touching your ass is the last thing I want to do right now.”
He laughed. And laughed some more. She couldn’t help joining him, either.
God, dare she say it? She was having fun with Daniel Vargas.
Cue the zombies, because this had to be the apocalypse.
* * *
Daniel hadn’t lied when he’d told Mimi touching her ass was the last thing he wanted to do. Because, damn, there were so many other parts of her body he could explore before he got to her backside.
What a tempting picture she made. The mud covered her body, leaving nothing to his imagination. The curve of her breasts, the soft flare of her hips, the flat plane of her stomach—all of it lay before him, a veritable late-night snack run for his eyes.
He wanted her. Badly. But she’d made it clear there’d be no romantic connection between them, so he vowed to enjoy her in whatever way she’d allow. And he was a guy, so right now he was enjoying the view of her ass as she climbed the five-foot wall that separated them from the finish line. He stood ready to help her, but she didn’t need it.
She grasped the braided rope and placed the sole of one foot on the wall. As she lifted her arm to grasp another section of rope, the muscles in her toned arms flexed with the exertion. Watching her challenge her body satisfied his very elemental need to admire the beauty of a woman’s physique in motion. Faster than he’d expected, she hoisted one leg over the top of the wall, swinging the other leg around before she disappeared from his view.
And when he cleared the wall after her, she stood on the other side, looking dirty, adorable, and pleased with herself.
“What took you so long?” she asked between pants.
“These old legs aren’t as spry as they used to be,” he said.
Her eyes flew to his thighs. “Those are hardly old legs. You’re built like a stallion down there.”
He stared at her until her eyes went wide, and he couldn’t help chuckling. “You said it. Not me.”
She grimaced. “Ugh. My mouth gets me in so much trouble.”
He stared at her—again, until her eyes went wide—again.
She brushed the hair off her face and straightened her shorts. “I’m just going to shut up now. C’mon. Let’s finish this.”
They ran the last one hundred yards, their feet hitting the ground at the same time. Other mud runners had already crossed the finish line, but he didn’t care, nor did she if the loud whoop she gave was any indication.
Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes captivated him. If he could guarantee that she’d be standing at the finish line, looking exactly as she did now, he would win every race he entered. Better yet, if he could run each race with her, he wouldn’t even care about winning.
She raised her hand to high-five him. “That was fanfuckingtastic.”
“Agreed,” he said as he tried to catch his breath.
They walked in circles, keeping their blood pumping to avoid aches and leg cramps.
A young girl, looking bored in the way tweens had perfected as a rite of passage, stood a few yards from the finish line. “Congratulations on finishing,” she said in a monotone voice. “Please turn in your number plate. Hoses to wash off are to your right.”
Mimi gave her a cheerful smile. “Thank you.”
“Sure,” the tween said with a roll of her eyes.
Sparkling personality, that one.
He and Mimi grinned at each other. Were they thinking the same thing?
They proceeded to the hose-off area. Eight hoses of various lengths lay on the ground, each connected to a water truck about fifty yards away. Mimi picked up a hose and began to rinse the mud off her body. Slowly, glimpses of her skin emerged. Taking in her compact body, half-dirty and wet, he felt like someone had delivered a roundhouse kick to his head. Was he supposed to be doing something other than enjoying the view?
She whipped the hose in front of her, dousing him with a spray of water. “Hey, are you just going to watch me?”
He swatted at the water as he jumped out of the way. “Hey, yourself. And stop that. I was still catching my breath.”
“Right,” she said. “And paying way more attention to my cleaning process than yours.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t admit it, but this is a fantasy of mine. A hot woman covered in mud. It brings me back to the female mud wrestlers I watched on television when I was young.”
She wrinkled her nose as she resumed her hose-down. “You’re such a dude.”
He smirked and bowed. “Thank you.”
“Not a compliment, buddy.”
“I’m taking it as one anyway.”
She doused him with more water. “You would.”
He lunged for her, but she dropped the hose and ran away, her laughter coaxing a stupid grin from him.
She’d reduced her frost factor by twenty degrees today, and he intended to capitalize on the opening she’d given him. Dinner this evening would be a first step in that direction.
He caught up with her at the checkout table, where the attendants had stored his and Mimi’s personal belongings. After handing in his claim card, he turned to her. “So about dinner. Can I pick you up at seven?”
She held a ponytail holder between her teeth and fussed with her hair. Is it weird that I want to be that hair band?
After bending down and pulling her mud-streaked locks into a messy bun, she straightened. “Seven’s fine.”
“Text me your address when you have a minute,” he told her.
She tapped at her phone. “Done.”
He glanced at his to confirm that he’d received her text. “Can’t wait until tonight.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes. “Dinner between acquaintances, right?”
“We just ran a mud race together. I think it’s safe to say we’re friends.”
She turned away and squinted her eyes against the sun, her expression pensive. “Depends on your meaning of safe, actually.” She didn’t wait for a response, jingling her car keys instead. “I’m off to get the mud out of my unmentionables. See you tonight.”
“Looking forward to it, Mimi.”
She studied his face as she moved in place. And then she grinned—reluctantly, but it was there. “So am I, Daniel.”
He watched her go knowing this: He’d found a crack in the seemingly impenetrable wall she’d built around herself. Pumped from the race and a morning in her company, he mentally high-fived himself. Now if he could get her to relax her rules, he might actually have a chance at convincing her to date him. As he made his way to his car, he tried to devise a solution. His steps slowed when a potential fix came to him: Rather than treat her rules as an obstacle, he’d reframe them as an opportunity and convince her to test them. Tonight that fucking wall betwee
n them was coming down. But in a rare moment of self-doubt, he wondered if she would bury him in the process.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mimi waited for Daniel inside the vestibule of her apartment building. Allowing him to come upstairs didn’t seem appropriate, not if she wanted to maintain the last vestiges of her professionalism. She’d dressed the part, too, choosing a simple teal blouse and a black pencil skirt. And as a reminder as much to herself as to Daniel, she’d completed the outfit with her modest don’t-fuck-me pumps.
Thinking back to their time together this morning, she had to admit that inviting him to the Dirty Thirty might have been a mistake. Initially, she’d figured he’d hate the experience, confirming that he was just like her father. Getting dirty had been one of her dad’s pet peeves during her childhood, so she’d assumed Daniel would whine and complain, too. In which case she could safely put him in the “never gonna happen with him” column. But no, Daniel had mucked up her plans.
She’d actually enjoyed hanging out with him.
And he’d been as comfortable in the mud as he typically was in a pristine suit.
The nerve of the man.
A minute before seven o’clock, Daniel eased his car into a rare parking space on her block. He opened the passenger door for her and held her hand as she slipped inside.
She fastened her seat belt and admired the BMW’s leather and wood interior. “Very nice. I expected something more James Bond, though, like an Aston Martin.”
“Nah. I prefer class over flash.”
“Let’s not overstate things. It’s still flashy, which is why it suits you.”
He cocked his head and regarded her with a smile as he eased the car into the driving lane. “So I made a reservation at Co Co. Sala. Ever been?”
“I’ve been to the chocolate boutique next door but never to the restaurant.”
“You’re in for a treat then. A chocolate lover’s dream.”
“And I’m a lover of chocolate.”
“And I’m a lover of chocolate lovers.”
She stared at him blankly.