by Amy Sparling
Jett grins and bashes his game controller, looking back at the TV as if he expects something to happen to it. “We can turn the game off,” Jace says, looking to me for an answer. “Do you want to watch TV or something?”
“No, honey,” I say, stretching out my legs across the couch. “I am perfectly happy with how things are. I was just sighing because life is so perfect.”
His eyes narrow and he waits a beat, probably verifying that I really mean it. “I’m serious!” I say, sticking out my tongue.
“Cool,” he says, seemingly satisfied with my answer. “Because all I want to do is sit on my ass all day and enjoy this day off.”
“We really should unpack some boxes,” I say, looking around.
“Sorry babe, I can’t hear you,” Jace says sarcastically.
I laugh. And then his phone rings from the couch pillow beside me. I lean over and look at the screen. “It’s Park.”
“Can you answer it?” Jace says, still playing the video game.
“Hello?” I say cheerfully into Jace’s phone.
“Damn, man, you sound girly in the mornings,” Park says. I can hear the smile in his voice.
“Oh ha ha,” I say. “Why are you calling on Jace’s day off? Is my best friend not keeping you entertained?”
“I wish I was calling because I’m bored,” he says. “We kind of have an issue over here.”
“Oh no.”
Jace looks back at me, concern stitched on his brow. “Is this the kind of issue that needs Jace?” I ask Park.
“Yeah, unfortunately. It’s nothing to worry about, just some bullshit with the contracts.”
“You want to talk to him?”
“Nah, just tell him to put some clothes on and get over here.”
I lift an eyebrow. “What makes you think he’s naked?”
He chuckles. “He’s home with you. I mean duh.”
I laugh and Jace gives me a weird look from his place on the floor. “See ya later, Park.”
Jace pauses the game and smooths Jett’s messy blonde hair down. “Am I going into work?” he asks, making an exaggerated puppy frown.
I make the same frown. “Yep.”
After kissing Jace goodbye, I get a marvelous idea. I call up Becca and ask if she’s bored.
“Of course I’m bored,” she says with a groan. “Park and I were supposed to hang out all day and then he got stuck working.”
“That’s why you have me,” I say, grinning mischievously. “I was thinking since we’re both stuck with nothing to do, that maybe you should come over here and help me unpack.”
“You know what, that doesn’t even seem too bad,” she says. “I’ll be there in five.”
*
Together, Becca and I manage to unpack the entire kitchen. We play pretend cooking like weirdos to find which cabinets would be the best to store certain types of kitchen utensils. Jett has a blast playing with the boxes after we’ve emptied them and soon we’ve moved into the living room and then the study. We hang photos and décor on the walls, string curtains over the curtain rods. I stack books on the bookshelf and Becca organizes the coats in the hall closet.
Things move so quickly with her help that I start to regret not doing this sooner. The house is already so gorgeous and new and shiny and now with our stuff unpacked from the ugly boxes, it looks even better.
“You kept your maternity clothes?” Becca asks once we’ve migrated into my bedroom. She’s been unpacking clothes and hanging them up in the closet, while I tackle boxes of shoes that are all out of order.
I shrug. “Yeah, they were expensive. Which is funny because most of the time I just wore leggings and Jace’s baggy t-shirts.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me as she slips a hanger into a pink flowy maternity shirt. “You planning on having baby number two soon?”
“Who the hell said anything about another baby?” I ask, jerking backward as if the thought alone was scary.
She laughs. “Come on! Jett needs a brother or sister. Don’t you, Jett?” She coos at my two-year-old, who grins up at her. He’s been playing with one of his daddy’s dirt bike trophies which had somehow ended up in a box of clothes.
I know she’s just messing with me, but I take a moment to think about the question seriously. I mean, Jett was a total accident. I was still a teenager and hadn’t planned on having a kid anytime soon. And although everything has worked out incredibly well, I would still never recommend having a kid at such a young age to anyone. And although I think it’s cool to have all of your kids kind of close in age so that they grow up together—I don’t know if I should do the same thing since we’re still so young.
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on. Surely you want another kiddo.”
I glance over at the kiddo I already have and smile. He is such a great kid and I love him more than I love anything on this planet. But I also remember the pain of childbirth, the late nights and lack of sleep. Cleaning up baby puke and making bottles at four in the morning. Changing diapers and cleaning off snotty noses.
“I really don’t know,” I say honestly. Then I give her coy smile. “Why, are you planning on starting a family with Park?”
She snorts and waves her hand at my question. “Not anytime soon.” She holds up her left hand. “I need a rock on this finger first.”
I nod. “I’m sure you’ll get one any day now.”
Chapter 3
Monday is ridiculously busy at the Track, but we manage to keep up with all of the work pretty well. The only thing that bothers me is trying to run the front desk and keep up with Jace at the same time. I refuse to let him out of my sight, and that makes it difficult to deal with clients and answering phones and running back and forth throughout the building. And several times a day I have to walk across the track to get Jace or Park when they’re training someone and don’t have their phones on them. Carrying a two-year-old makes all of that difficult.
In the evening, Jace grills burgers for us on the grill. We’re hanging out on the back patio of our new home, using the new grill he bought the day after we moved in. Jace is a great cook and an even better griller. I chop up a hamburger patty into small pieces for Jett and slide the plate over to him in his high chair.
“Hey, babe?” I ask, admiring Jace’s sculpted arms while he works the grill. “I need to run an idea past you.”
“Do you want me to go upstairs and strip naked because, if so, yes I’ll do that.”
I roll my eyes at his cocky grin. “Maybe later, but this is serious.”
He takes a plate and makes himself a burger then sits in the patio chair next to me. “What’s up?”
Part of me is embarrassed for even asking but the other part of me thinks it’s a good idea. I take a deep breath and lay out my plan, just as I’d rehearsed in my head. “Okay, so I don’t know how much influence I have over business decisions since you’re technically the owner and all,” I begin.
Jace’s brows draw together and he talks with his mouth full of food. “You have a ton of influence,” he says, swallowing. “It’s your business too, babe.”
“Well . . . so I was thinking that we should hire someone.”
“For what kind of job?” he asks.
“Like, a babysitter. I don’t know,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m going crazy keeping up with Jett while I’m doing my own job, and I don’t want to take him to a daycare. Besides, all of the daycares around here are so far away I’d take me a lot longer to get to work if I had to drop him off each day. And they’re so expensive I was thinking we could hire another person to help watch him and also help us out, and—I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe it’s a dumb idea.”
“No, I like it. I mean, that’s why we built the kid’s room after all. So people would have a place for their little kids so they wouldn’t be hot outside or running around outside in danger of being hit by a dirt bike.” Jace nods, his eyes looking far off as he thinks it over. “Do you
have anyone in mind?”
I shrug. “No, but I was thinking we could advertise it on the Track’s Facebook page and stuff. Just put out a hiring add and see who applies.”
“Cool,” he says, puffing out his cheeks to make a goofy face at Jett. “Let’s do it.”
I smile and it’s like a ton of weight has just lifted off my shoulders. Now I just need to find someone I’d trust around my kid.
After dinner, Jace puts Jett to bed, which turns out to be ridiculously easy because he was so worn out from playing all day. But when Jace brags about how great of a dad he is because he had Jett to sleep in a few minutes, I go ahead and let him gloat.
I take a hot shower, knowing that although I’m relaxed now, tomorrow is another day of hectic work and running around after my kid all day. At least tomorrow I’ll get to post a job opening online and maybe find my dream babysitter-slash-employee.
I’m walking out of the bathroom, toweling off my hair when I see Jace. He’s sitting on the foot of our bed, wearing only his boxers. His hands rest on his thighs and he peers at me, a smirk on his lips. He’s gained about ten pounds of muscle in the last few months, from working out at our new gym every day. He has a slight tan line on his bicep from wearing t-shirts while training clients all day in the sun.
I walk slowly toward him, wearing only a t-shirt I stole from his side of the closet. “Hey there, handsome.”
He wiggles his fingers, signaling for me to walk closer to him. “I missed you,” he says, his voice throaty as I approach him at the end of the bed.
“I was only gone for fifteen minutes,” I say, putting a hand on my hip.
“Fifteen minutes is a long time,” he says. He grabs my waist in his hands, tugging me forward until I fall into his lap. I lift my legs and straddle him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders.
“How are you always so happy to see me?” I tease as I run my fingers through his hair. “You see me every night and every night you’re happy about it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he says, dipping his hands down to my bare thighs and sliding his fingers up under my shirt. Goosebumps prickle across my skin at the feel of his calloused hands sliding up my waist. He leans forward and gives me a quick kiss. “You’re my favorite person.”
I try to reply but my breath catches in my throat when his lips press a kiss to my neck. His hands slide up, over my ribs, his thumbs caressing my breasts as he lifts the shirt up and over my head. He tosses it to the floor.
I close my eyes and lean forward, expecting a make out session. Instead, he holds me by my shoulders, and smiles. I open my eyes. “What are you doing?”
He shrugs. “Just checking you out. You’re insanely hot, you know.”
I’ve also been hitting the gym every day since we opened the business and I know it shows. My arms are toned, my waist is smaller than it’s ever been and my legs are well-defined. Although I’m really proud of myself, it’s also a little weird to be in such great shape. I’ve never worked out before. I roll my eyes. “I’m not that hot.”
He shakes his head, then teases my collarbone with a flick of his tongue. “You’re crazy hot. And kind of a badass now. I wouldn’t pick a fight with you.”
“That’s because you’re my husband and you respect me more than that,” I say.
He shakes his head. “It’s because I’m afraid you’d kick my ass.” He laughs and leans backward, pulling me on top of him. “And I’d probably love every second of it.”
I throw a playful punch to his chest and he smirks. “Yeah baby, just like that.”
I can’t help but laugh at him. “You once told me that you’d love me no matter what I looked like and now you clearly love me more now that I’m hotter.”
He shakes his head and lets his hands roam my body. “Not true. I’ll still love you no matter what. I’m just saying—your new body has attracted a lot of attention around the track.”
This makes me pause. “Huh?”
He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. I’ve just had to hear quite a few comments on how hot you are from guys who don’t know you’re my wife. It’s hard not to punch a client in the face, ya know?”
“Interesting,” I say, leaning in to kiss him again.
“That’s enough talking,” Jace whispers with his lips to mine. Then he pulls me closer and shows me exactly how much he loves me.
*
I stare at my post on the Track’s Facebook page.
We’re hiring at The Track! Seeking someone energetic and good with kids to work in our kid’s room. Duties are primarily childcare for a two-year-old, but may be required to watch other children for clients from time to time. Must be responsible! Fans of motocross a plus.
I read over it yet again, wondering if it’ll attract any attention. I’ve never been in charge of this kind of thing before, so I’m just making it up as I go along. Jace has already had a few of his clients say they have a teenaged daughter who might be interested, but so far we don’t have any official applications. Of course, the ad has only been up for an hour.
When Becca comes over to take my place at the front counter so I can get a lunch break, I decide to sneak into the gym for a short workout. I’ve spent the whole day just sitting behind the front desk answering phones and talking to people and I am dying to stretch out my muscles and move around.
Plus, I’m kind of still thinking about the comment Jace made last night about people thinking I’m hot. It’s the most flattering and weird thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to be attractive for my own personal reasons—mainly to make Jace proud and have him drooling over me like he did last night. But as far as working out goes, I’ve been doing this for myself. I’m stronger and I feel amazing and I never need to ask Jace to open jars of grape jelly anymore. All of these are good reasons to work out. I don’t exactly try to look hot for anyone but Jace.
But knowing people think I am hot . . . well, that’s cool.
“There she is,” Park says, walking into the gym. “Hey, Bayleigh, do you have a second?”
I’m sitting in a weight machine, doing shoulder presses and although I can hear him, I can’t see him without letting go of the bars.
“What’s up?” I ask between reps. Then I hear two sets of footsteps. I let go and turn around. Park walks up to me and a guy I’ve never seen before is trailing him. He’s probably in his thirties and he’s some kind of body builder, based on his huge chest. His arms are covered in tattoos and he wears a thick silver chain around his neck.
“I have someone looking for you,” Park explains, gesturing to the guy.
“Hi,” I say, standing up and extending my hand. “Are you looking to sign up for the gym?”
“Not exactly,” he says in a deep voice. He hands me a business card. “My name is Mark Brooks, owner of Texas Motocross Magazine. Do you have a second?”
“Sure.” I smile. “I mean, I wish I wasn’t covered in sweat,” I say with a chuckle. “But I’m free to talk. What’s up?”
Park gets my attention. “You good? I’m gonna head back outside.”
I nod and he excuses himself.
“So what can I do for you, Mark?” I ask, grabbing my sweat towel off the rack and swiping it over my face.
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in working with me for next month’s magazine issue,” Mark begins. He takes out his cell phone and holds it out so we can both see it. He’s on his own magazine’s Facebook page.
“Oh, sure. Like an article on the Track?” I ask.
“Sort of, but not exactly.” His eyes meet mine. “Have you ever done any modeling?”
“Uh . . .” I laugh because it’s awkward. “No.”
He smiles. “Well, I want to show you something,” he says, scrolling for something on his phone. “I’m a motocross racer as well as a personal trainer. My magazine covers Texas motocross races and tracks, but it also has a lot of body builder readers as well. We place a huge emphasis on fitness in our magazine, since, as I’m sure
you know, it takes a lot of endurance to race a dirt bike.”
I nod. “You should probably talk to Jace about this though. I don’t ride, I just help run the business.”
“Nope, you’re who we want. See, we’re trying to include more women in our magazine. Two weeks ago, someone posted a photo to our Facebook page and people loved it.” He holds out his phone to me and my jaw drops. The picture is of me and Jace and I had no idea anyone snapped a photo of this moment. I take the guy’s phone right from his hand and hold it closer to my face, just to get a good look.
I remember this day, not too long ago. It was after hours and I had been working out in the gym. A few of our clients were working out as well. I was lying on my back on the incline press. Jace was spotting me, standing behind the bench. At one point, in between lifting the weight bar, Jace had bent forward and kissed me, in a cute upside-down kiss. This person snapped a photo at that moment.
“That’s really cute,” I say, handing the phone back to him.
“Did you see the comments?” he asks.
I shake my head. Truthfully, I’d been admiring Jace’s biceps in the photo and hadn’t noticed anything else. Mark scrolls down quickly and I can see there’s probably a hundred comments on the photo. My heart leaps into my throat. “What do they say?”
“Everyone loved it. Jace is already a fan favorite with our magazine readers, but the women really resonated about the idea of a wife working out with her husband. If you’re up for it, we’d like to do an article about The Track, from your point of view. Talk about a day in the life of Bayleigh Adams, working at the business, working out with Jace, all of it.”
He slides the phone back into his pocket and gives me an eager smile. “So what do you think?”
“Why did you mention modeling?” I ask as a swarm of emotions flow through me at once.
“We’d have a professional photographer come out and get some photos to use for the article,” he explains. “We’d want you to pose for them of course. We can have Jace in it as well, but this would mainly be a piece about you.”