by S. E. Lund
“Nah,” Beckett said. “I climbed the highest mountain in Afghanistan. This is really so…” he said, hesitating as if he were struggling to find a non-insulting way to phrase his words.
“So… childish?” I said for him.
“Something like that,” he said with a soft laugh, his blue eyes playful.
When Leah got to the bottom, we high-fived, the three of us.
“So?” she said, grinning widely. “What’s next?”
“Martial arts,” I said and turned to Beckett. “We signed up for a class.”
“Have a great time,” he said with a mischievous grin. Then he walked off and although I had been worried about him being there, I felt a pang of regret in case I never saw him again.
Part of me was relieved. I did not want Beckett to watch me do a martial arts fitness class. My legs were already wobbly from a combination of adrenaline and weakness from too many hours sitting on my ass for the past year.
“I’m not sure I’m up to it,” I said, wondering if I should leave then.
Leah laughed. “You said you wanted to do it all.”
“I did.” I smiled ruefully.
Leah followed me to one of the rooms where a dozen people, male and female, had gathered to take the class.
A sign on the door caught my attention.
MCMAP. Beginners. All Fitness Levels.
That was hopeful. MCMAP. I knew what that was.
I turned to Leah in disbelief. “Did you know what this was when you signed us up?” I asked.
“No, but it said all fitness levels, and that includes couch potato, right?” Leah said hopefully.
I shrugged and took a place beside her, glancing at the chalkboard at the front of the room.
“I’m not sure I can do this.”
“Hey, you,” Leah said and pushed me playfully. “Carpe diem. Those were your exact words.”
I sighed. “All right… But you may regret it once you know what it is.”
“Why? What does MCMAP stand for?” Leah asked while she craned her neck to look around.
I smiled. “You’re the one who signed us up,” I said and turned away, scoping out the other students. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”
“Seriously,” she said and stood in front of me, noting my failed attempt not to smile. “Tell me what it means.”
I took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. “Marine Corps Martial Arts Program.” Then I burst out laughing.
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
I smiled at the look on her face. “Yeah, Dan used to do it back before…”
Then I stopped myself. I was going to say “back before he died,” but I didn’t.
“Crap…” she said. “I had no idea. Sorry…”
“No, it’s okay. Dan used to do it. I know all about MCMAP but just so you know, I’m probably going to die since I’ve been a sloth for a year…”
“You said you wanted to take a huge bite out of life and live on the edge. I guess this is living on the edge.”
On the blackboard at the front of the classroom was the following:
Please warm up for 5 minutes before class starts.
I watched as the other participants shook out their arms and legs as if they knew what ‘warm up’ meant. I tried to follow their movements, bending over to touch my… my knees and then arching my arm over my head.
“Be prepared to puke the first class. Look.” I pointed to the wall. A tin bucket like a janitor would use stood by the door, a mop beside it. “There’s a bucket.”
She checked it out, making a face of alarm.
“Oh, and there’s a portable defibrillator, just in case…” I pointed to it and she laughed out loud.
“Oh, my God. Why did I sign us up for this? I should have done Zumba.”
“I honestly have no idea. We’re in for it now, sister,” I said, swallowing hard when the instructor entered the room, almost puking at the sight of him. He looked like the Marine Corps bulldog crest on his t-shirt, his head covered by a thin brush cut, the sides sheared right down to his skin. He had a neck as thick as a tree trunk and he wore grey sweats and a loose black t-shirt with a snarling bulldog dog on the front. I could practically see his muscles rippling beneath his clothing.
United States Marine Corps Devil Dog the t-shirt read.
It brought back so many memories…
“Sorry about the military thing,” Leah said. “I just saw fitness class and since it was at the right time, I signed us up…”
I shook my head “Don’t worry. I have to move on, right?”
She nodded and we turned to face the instructor who was speaking with a student. I glanced around at a few of the others, and they looked just as shocked and in awe as Leah and I were.
Then, I saw Beckett in the doorway, glancing around as if checking to see if he was in the right place.
Damn. He was going to join the class?
Despite my reluctance, he was everything I could want. Tall. Handsome, hell—gorgeous. Smart. Hard working. Sexy. Funny.
Leah went to the drinking fountain, which was right beside Beckett in the small workout room, scoping him out behind his back. She raised her eyebrows at me when she returned.
“He’s sooo hot,” Leah said, tilting her head in Beckett’s direction. “He really likes you, Mira. Why don’t you be nice and have some fun? Carpe diem, right?”
The instructor turned to Beckett. “You’re late,” he said, his voice gruff.
“Sorry, Master Sergeant,” Beckett said, taking off his boots, stripping off his jeans to reveal a pair of black basketball shorts.
“You better get warmed up. Fast.” The instructor stood with his hands on his hips watching Beckett get ready, looking like he was ready to bark out an order at any moment.
Beckett took a place at the side of the class, shaking his arms and legs as if trying to warm up. He was absolutely gorgeous. He glanced around and his eyes came to rest squarely on me. Another shiver that made my skin all goose-bumpy went down my spine when our eyes met, and it wasn't the air conditioning.
I glanced away quickly.
He definitely looked like he belonged in a Bond movie or a catwalk in Milan, and so as I stretched and tried to warm up, I tried to imagine what he really was. DEA agent? Maybe undercover? Or CEO of a tech company? Could he really be both?
I watched him while I bent over, trying to touch my toes on one side.
“Good day, recruits,” the bulldog said when he was finally ready to start the class, his blue eyes piercing. Then he frowned. “That’s a joke.”
We laughed nervously.
“I’ll be your instructor for today. My assistant will be a former Marine you can call Beckett, who knows his way around the MCMAP. I usually run this class alone, but since he’s in town, I decided to give him the privilege of helping. Some of you will be new to the MCMAP. Do what I say and you won’t get hurt – too much.”
Finally, Bulldog smiled, but it was hard to tell the difference between his angry face and his happy face.
Beckett took his place at Bulldog’s side at the front of the class and surveyed us.
“Beckett will start with a warm-up,” Bulldog said and motioned to Beckett.
Beckett nodded and turned to us. “All right, class. We’re going to start with some yoga poses to limber you up. When we start the self-defense portion of the class, we don’t want you pulling muscles or tearing ligaments.”
“Yoga?” Leah whispered beside me. “Some bad boy…”
I kept my mouth shut and tried to follow Beckett as he moved through a few poses. I recognized some of them from a beginner’s yoga video I’d watched on YouTube. Mountain Pose. Sun Salutation. Downward Dog. Warrior Pose. Tree Pose. Child’s Pose. Cobra.
Triangle Pose.
Beckett and Bulldog walked around the room, correcting people’s posture. Beckett stopped beside me while I was struggling to keep in Triangle Pose and helped position my body so that I was balanced p
roperly.
“There you go,” he said, his voice soft, his strong hands on my hips to steady me.
“Um, thanks,” I said, feeling like a total spaz, hyper-aware of his touch, his hands warm. When I wobbled, he held me more tightly, his big hand splayed over my left hip, the other curving around my waist. A thrill went through me when his hand touched my bare midriff and I flushed, my cheeks hot.
“That’s better,” he said once I stabilized.
After he walked away, Leah glanced at me and wagged her eyebrows. “He likes you,” she whispered.
“Get a life,” I replied, rolling my eyes, but inside, I knew she was right.
After about ten minutes of yoga poses, we moved right into the self-defense portion of the class, and learned how to punch, how to defend against a punch, and how to fall.
I didn’t puke after all.
I did, however, hurt my ass during break fall training. Leah and I worked together, but I kept my eye on Beckett Tate the Viking CEO, DEA Agent and ex-Marine, who spent time with several duos, showing them how to perform each move. When he came to Leah and me, he used me for the demonstration, putting me in proper position while explaining everything to Leah.
“I told you he likes you,” Leah whispered when he moved on to another pair. “He had his hands—his nice strong hands—all over your body.”
“Shh,” I said and smiled to myself. “Down, girl.”
After class was over, I felt elated, the endorphins from the workout stronger than the pain signals from my aching body. Not to mention a little buzz from all the attention Beckett paid to me.
Leah and I high-fived and went to the drinking fountain. Beckett stopped by, waiting after me for a drink.
“Good class,” he said and smiled at me.
I have to admit that my heart skipped a beat when I looked in his eyes.
“If you like to break your bones,” I replied.
“You did well for someone new to this. If you stick with it, you’ll learn how to prevent broken bones. It’s a great workout.”
I smiled. “I was a bit surprised at the yoga part. You don’t look like a yoga man.”
“I’m a man of many talents,” he said suggestively and then grinned. “Capable of moving my body into many positions, whether for warfare or other pursuits.” He winked at me. “Just another superpower…”
I laughed with him.
“So what are you really doing back in Topsail Beach?”
“Are you interested?” he asked with a grin. “I’m available if you are and can offer you a variety of personal services…” He had this wicked expression in his eyes – an expression that sent a jolt of desire through me despite how hesitant I had been when I first saw him.
“Just curious.”
He shrugged. “It’s nice here. And as I said before, I had to arrange a retreat for my staff and thought this would be more private than somewhere in Wilmington. There’s a convention in Wilmington I needed to attend and so I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone. Maybe we could get together for a drink?”
“Maybe,” I said, not wanting to turn him down directly.
“That’s better than no,” he said and smiled.
I nodded but didn’t say anything else, not knowing what else to say. He took a long drink, grabbed his things and left.
I wished at that moment that I had the gumption to invite him out for a drink. But I didn’t and kicked myself mentally. He did offer his services…
I went to Leah’s side.
“God, he’s hot,” Leah said, making a face of awe as we watched him walk to the men’s locker room. “He looks great coming and going. That ass… I wish he would have taken off his turtleneck, though, so we could see his abs. What did he say to you?”
“Something about it being a good class and that I did well. Suggested we might have a drink…”
“I told you he has his sights set on you,” she said, elbowing me. “What did you say?”
“I said maybe.” I frowned. “He was just being friendly.”
“You should encourage him. Have that drink. A nice summer fling is just what you need.”
“I’m leaving in a few weeks,” I protested.
“That’s more than enough time, babe,” Leah said and wagged her eyebrows. “One night would fix what ails you.”
I rolled my eyes again but she was right. He seemed to single me out from everyone else for a little extra attention, but I doubted I would see him again and part of me was disappointed. Hell, part of me wished I could go to his hotel room and spend the entire weekend with him, but what would I tell Dan’s parents?
“Now what?” I asked, hungry and wanting some food.
She laughed and wiped sweat from her brow. “Now we shower, dress and then work our shift and finally, we go out for a well-deserved drink.”
I smiled. “I have to be at work early tomorrow and work all weekend so I can’t be too late. I need some sleep.”
“You can sleep when you’re eighty,” Leah said and grabbed my arm, pulling me down the hall. “You have to live now. We’re going to the club tonight. It’s Marla’s birthday and she wants us all there. Besides, there’s a bunch of Wall Street types in Wilmington for some convention. Don’t worry, Cinderella. I’ll get you home before your carriage turns into a pumpkin. Maybe I’ll meet the future Mr. Grant.”
“They’re all psychopaths in suits.”
“Hey!” she said and stuck her tongue out. “I’ll have you know I almost dated a stockbroker by the name of Blake. I was this close,” she said and held up two fingers, measuring about an inch. She wanted a rich stockbroker as a boyfriend or husband. She made a plan and it included moving back to Manhattan with me when I returned to finish my degree and going to clubs frequented by business students.
“Close only counts in horseshoes,” I said as we walked down the hallway. “I married someone, and look where it got me.”
She made a face, and I knew she felt bad once more for reminding me of my short experience with married life.
I was already starting to cramp up badly. Instead of a night at a fancy club with a hot stranger, I probably should have stayed at home with a hot water bottle and Advil but this was the start of my new life and I was going to live it to the max.
“I probably should stay at home,” I said.
“You’re coming out with me if I have to tie a leash on you and drag you out.”
“I’m not that kinky,” I said and grinned widely, dodging her when she tried to grab me.
“You’re probably very kinky,” she said with a laugh. “All the quiet ones are.”
That afternoon, once I’d finished daily cash, Dan’s mother brought the mail to the restaurant before she left for the city. I stood at the bar and examined a letter addressed to me for clues. Thin, the letter was from the FBI and I was reluctant to open it. I’d applied for the Student Internship with the FBI, hoping to get some experience in the Bureau as a way to cement my application when I graduated. The envelope was far too thin to be anything but a rejection letter. Letters of acceptance most likely included information on when I’d start and probably forms to sign.
Leah had come and peered over my shoulder at the letter.
I went ahead and opened it.
It was from the Director, the Federal Bureau’s Special Research Unit, Psychopathology.
Dear Miranda Parker,
I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected for the position of unpaid intern, and will be responsible for a variety of administrative and research duties in the Special Research Unit, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Manhattan Division. Your term will begin on Monday, January 15 and will end on July 15…
“Oh my God,” I said, totally excited, a sense of euphoria welling up inside of me. “I got it!” I checked the letter again. “I got the internship.”
“No freakin’ way,” Leah said, grabbing the letter from my hand. “You go girl. Congrats!”
We hugged and danced around
the kitchen.
“What did you get?” Steve asked, frowning.
“I got an internship with the FBI after Christmas!” I said and smiled, holding out the letter for him to see. He took it and read it over, his brow furrowed.
“This demands a celebration,” Leah said. “Milano’s tonight or bust!”
I flopped down on a barstool and took the letter back from Steve. “I’m broke. Milano’s is expensive…”
Leah stood with her hands on her hips. “We’re going. You said that either way, acceptance or rejection, we’d go. I got a hair appointment for later this afternoon,” she said and fluffed her blonde tresses, “and I bought a new dress…”
She had such a mournful expression on her face that I knew I couldn’t say no.
“I really can’t afford to go out…” I protested, opening my wallet and counting up my change. “I have a shift tonight.”
“Early shift. You’ll be off by nine and can come right home, shower and you’ll be ready for the fun to start You have to come out and celebrate!”
“I can only afford a beer,” I said and shrugged. “We’ll have to walk because I can’t afford a taxi. Room and board at The New Yorker is twenty-two grand...”
“Never you worry,” she said and pulled out her own wallet, retrieving a credit card – a VISA – and flashing it in my face. Probably from Daddykins, who was a rich investor.
“Okay,” I said, feeling like a mooch, but a girl had to celebrate, right?
“Maybe we’ll meet someone really hot,” she said, leaning forward, her voice low. She wagged her eyebrows. “That will make up for it.”
“Leah,” I said, wearily. “Seriously, I’m not looking for a man.”
“You are seriously in need of a man,” she whispered, and wagged a finger at me. Steve was behind the bar, moving around, placing bottles back on shelves. He could overhear us and I frowned at Leah but she wasn’t getting my hint to be quiet. “You are now re-virginized after a year with no sex – more, since Dan was gone for three months before…”
“Leah!”
She stopped short of saying the rest. Before Dan died.
“Anyway, you need to get out there and lose it fast. Get back in the saddle. Maybe Beckett will show up…”