Snowed In & Set Up

by Whitley Cox

  “Aw man, I love licking the coffee table. Next to the ottoman, it’s my favorite thing to have my tongue on.”

  Whoa! Now all I could think about was Hot Dad’s tongue and the various places I’d like to have it. Had that been his intention? Was he talking dirty? Why was he talking to me at all? Thoughts and images, questions and giddiness much too extreme for my age cannoned around inside my head as I paced my kitchen. I needed to do something. I needed to occupy my hands. As if answering my cry for help, my stomach gurgled, and I snatched a banana from the bowl and peeled it.

  “You still there?” he asked.

  Oh crap, how long had I been silent?

  “Yup,” I said with a mouthful.

  “What are you doing? You sound funny.”

  “Eating a banana.”

  Now it was his turn for silence.

  “Seriously?” he finally asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Whole, or did you cut it up into pieces first?”

  Holy freaking frack, he’s flirting with me!

  “Nope.”

  His chuckle swept over my skin as if he’d just licked each and every inch of it. Divine heat pooled between my legs, and I felt my nipples tighten against my bra. I resisted the urge to reach up and cup them to relieve the sudden strain of their weight.

  “What are your plans this weekend, Harper?”

  “Um …”

  “Banana in your mouth?”

  I swallowed and blinked.

  “Mhmm. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Swallow.”

  Holy Mother of God, him telling me to swallow … my heart nearly leaped clean out of my chest.

  “I guess I should probably double-check first that you are in fact single. That you’re not seeing someone but just haven’t bothered to let your friend Amy know.”

  Amy! I could kiss that meddling little woman.

  “Yes. Yes, I’m single.”

  “Good. Me too.” I could practically see that sexy smile of his it came through so clearly in his voice.

  “Well, Harper, would you like to go out with me this weekend?”

  I nodded and then did a little hop. My pulse was racing and my brain was struggling to keep up. I was planning a date with Hot Dad! “When? What time?”

  “How does Friday around seven sound?”

  Yes, woman. Say YES!

  “You can think it over if you need some—”

  But I cut him off. “I’d love to!”

  “Great! So, Friday at seven?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Perfect. Text me your address, and I’ll swing by to pick you up. How does dinner and a movie sound?”

  “Sounds great!” Oh shit, my voice was getting higher. Had he noticed?

  “Awesome. I’ll see you Friday. Don’t get sick.”

  I swallowed again. “Okay.”

  “Bye, Harper.”

  “G-goodbye, Sam.”

  He hung up.

  I stared at the phone and his number. Hot Dad just asked me out on a date!

  Hot Dad.

  On a date!

  I brought up the number for Amy, my sister from another mister and my favorite mom in my mom posse, and texted her.

  Harper: Umm, why did Hot Dad just call me and ask me out on date? What were you two talking about today at Playgroup? About how sad, lonely and sex deprived I am?

  She texted back almost immediately, as I knew she would. She had Mondays off and usually spent the afternoons with Henry at home or out and about. I checked the time. It was nearly four. She was probably prepping supper.

  Amy: Bahahaha. Yes. He knows you’re horny as a rabbit in the spring. Get on that, little bunny. He and I were the only two parents who brought their kids today to playgroup. We started talking, I found out he’s a single Hot Dad. I thought the two of you might hit it off. He’s hot, you’re hot. Be hot AND sweaty together. Are you going out with him?

  Smiling, I texted her back. Amy was a gem. Feisty, petite and a true friend. We’d met on the first day Carly and I joined playgroup. She’d offered me a piece of chocolate from her pocket. She normally kept her stash hidden and slipped a square into her mouth when no one was looking. But based on the way I’d entered the joint, with a tear in the bum of my brand-new yoga pants, a screaming toddler, and hair caked in oatmeal and banana, she figured I needed the sugar. And we’ve been friends ever since. She brought me into the fold and made me one of them. There was no bashing, no judgment, just support. And even though I loved all the women at the playgroup, Amy was my person. I could always count on her and she on me. If I didn’t have Quinn as a sister, I would have wanted Amy. I texted her back, my pulse thundering in my veins as I replayed my phone conversation with Sam over and over in my head.

  H: Duh!? I’d be stupid not to try to hit that. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to hit that for months.

  A: Ha-ha! Yes, I’m well aware of your six-month love from afar. You deserve this. Good luck and let me know how it goes :)

  H: THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

  I sent her a photo of me blowing a kiss, then tossed my phone onto the counter and started the most epic dance party of my life, all to the tune of the music in my head.

  Read on for Chapter 1 of Love, Passion and Power: Part 1

  Book 1 of The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series

  Love, Passion and Power: Part 1 - Chapter 1

  Kendra

  “Whoa-ho-ho, just take a look at Mr. Mega-Bucks who just pulled into the parking lot. All perfect hair and over-priced sunglasses.”

  I glanced up to where Damien was indicating. Sure enough, there was a Mr. Mega-Bucks, albeit also a Mr. Super-Sexy Mega-Bucks, stepping out of a gunmetal gray Aston Martin DB9. The slick paint job and clean rims glistening like freshly polished silver in the warm May sunshine.

  “Well isn’t he a delectable little piece?” Manuel added, coming up behind me and resting his elbows on the counter, settling his stubbly chin on his interlocked hands. “Who do you think he is?”

  “He’s Justin Williams, and he’s going to be working with you, Kendra. He’s been referred by his physician, and you’re to give him the works,” Lacy said, looking up at me beneath her feathery lashes.

  “Lucky girl,” Manuel whined playfully. “I’d certainly like to give him the works!” Then he elbowed me in the ribs before heading to the back to see to his massage client.

  I rolled my eyes. Yes, lucky me indeed. I get to work with this pompous ass. Who probably has more money than brains and better hair than most women I know. Lucky me indeed. I watched as he sauntered toward the front door and opened it, the sun behind his head giving him an almost biblical glow as he removed his sunglasses. He tucked his shades into the neck of his baby-blue polo shirt, and graced the foyer with his presence.

  And despite my usual indifference toward someone with more money than brains, because clearly, that was the case with this guy, I couldn’t help but feel myself get a tad winded by his looks as he strode toward us. Light brown hair fell just so over his forehead with messy windswept abandon, while eyes, as blue and bright as the Caribbean Ocean, sparkled above youthful rosy cheeks. Boyish and innocent Hollywood — not that there is anything innocent about Hollywood and there probably wasn’t anything innocent about this guy either.

  But when he smiled at Lacy — Jesus Christ! I just about swallowed my tongue. Big, straight white teeth on that million-dollar grin, to go along with what I can only assume were his millions of dollars. His swagger was practiced and carefree, but it also exuded cockiness and confidence. And the heavy sway of the bulge in his khaki shorts said he was well practiced in bringing a woman to her knees and keeping her there — willingly!

  “Hi,” he said, all smiles with a coquettish wink at Lacy who was eating it up with both hands. She batted her eyelashes and flipped her platinum shoulder-length hair around her head as if there was a giant fan in the corner. “Justin Williams. I’m here for a consult. Dr. Ernest referred me.”

  I tu
rned my back on them, too embarrassed by the ridiculousness of my co-worker to continue watching. Instead, I busied myself with the file in my hand, straightening papers that didn’t need straightening and reading things I didn’t need to read.

  “Yes… yes, Mr. Williams. We’ve uh… we’ve been expecting you.” Lacy’s words fumbled and fell out of her mouth like marbles in a teaspoon. Get it together woman; he’s just another pretty face. “Uh, Kendra…?”

  I turned to her, taking great care not to look at the sexy God-like creature standing on the opposite side of the reception desk. “Yeah, wuzzup?” I instantly cringed inside at my overly cavalier attitude. I never say ‘wuzzup.’ Nobody says ‘wuzzup’ anymore. It’s been thirty seconds, and already this man has me acting like a complete fool.

  “Are you free to take Mr. Williams into the back for his consult and orientation?”

  “Sure. Mr. Williams, if you’ll follow me please.” I gave a vague and disinterested smile to Mr. Williams, motioning for him to follow me. He gave another flashy grin and wink to Lacy, which sent her into a fit of giggles and snickers like a moon-struck schoolgirl, her hair flying in a completely unnecessary tailspin around her bobble head.

  We traveled down the hallway in silence, but the fact that I couldn’t see him didn’t mean I wasn’t fully aware of the eyeball-sized holes he was boring into my ass — the man was an incorrigible pig.

  “In here. Have a seat, and we’ll get started.” I gestured, holding the door open to the office I shared with other personal trainers on staff.

  The room was empty. Damien, Cheryl, and Tim were all out with clients, and with that emptiness, I felt a sudden awareness of this man and his big — I’m guessing six-foot-three, two-hundred-pound body — being only inches from mine as he crossed the threshold. And of course, he smelled magnificent; a heavenly mixture of aftershave, coconuts, and soap.

  His eyes traveled up and down my body in slow appraisal and, although I had clothes on, the way he was looking at me I could have been wearing nothing at all. Instinctively I squirmed under his gaze as I propped open the door and walked around the desk to take my seat.

  “So, Mr. Williams, let’s start off with you telling me a little bit about yourself and why Dr. Ernest referred you to our facility.”

  I opened his file and scanned it briefly, slowly lifting my head to meet his gaze; it was penetrating. His head was slightly cocked to one side, and a bemused half-smile danced across his sensuous lips. I raised my eyebrows slightly to prompt a response and show him that, contrary to popular belief, he didn’t have the same effect on all women. I wasn’t about to lose my shit or my cool simply because he’d smiled at me and undressed me with his eyes, all the way down to my toe-ring.

  He leaned back in the chair and crossed his left leg over his right, resting the ankle on the knee, took a deep breath and then exhaled loudly. I didn’t move, fidget or respond. I just waited.

  “Well, what can I say? I’m a workaholic who eats shit, doesn’t exercise, barely sleeps and takes prescription drugs to stay awake. Some of these drugs are not exactly ‘legal.'” He used air quotes. “In Canada… And according to my doctor, all this caused me to have a heart attack a few weeks ago… albeit a mild one.”

  A faint buzzing sound permeated the sudden silence in the room. Immediately he put his foot down on the floor and leaned forward. Pulling his phone out of his back pocket, he slid his thumb over the touch screen and then it was as though I didn’t exist. That we weren’t in the middle of a serious conversation and that I wasn’t sitting across from him, four feet away.

  I watched as he continued to fiddle on his phone, his face in a pent up scrunch, lines that I hadn’t noticed before etched deep on his otherwise youthful face. Suddenly the phone buzzed again, and he held a finger up to me indicating silence or that he needed a minute, either way, it was rude as hell.

  “Williams!” He snapped into the receiver. “I don’t care right now John, just liquidate and pull out. I don’t need the hassle right now. Pay them fucking overtime for all I care, double-time if we have to, it’ll still be a savings in the long run. Just get it all out of there… good… Call me when it’s done.” And without a farewell, he did the less-than-dramatic red-button press and hung up on “John.”

  “Sorry about that.” He looked up at me and shrugged sheepishly, adding a wink to his grin to try and soften the blow. “Business.”

  “Mr. Williams, we have a strict ‘no phone’ policy in the facility. For future reference, you are to turn your phone off or onto silent mode and either leave it in your locker in the men’s change room or check it at reception with Lacy.”

  His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and that same quirky smirk played across his full pouty lips. “Is that so? Well, I am never without my phone… but I’m up for the challenge. Would you like it now?” he asked as he put it on the desk and mimed sliding to across to me.

  “We won’t be in here long. You can hand it off to Lacy when we pass reception.”

  “Very well… I, uh… I get the feeling… Miss…?”

  “Kendra, Kendra Black,” I snapped, eyeing him up and questioning where this was going.

  “Miss Black, I get the feeling you don’t like me very much. Is that correct? Have I done something to offend you?” His head cocked to the side again as he leaned forward, clasping his hands and resting them on the desk.

  I sighed heavily and leaned back in my own seat gauging him warily. “I don’t know you, Mr. Williams—”

  “Justin, please call me Justin.” Humor and mischief danced in his eyes.

  “Justin, fine, I don’t know you at all… Justin, but I will tell you this. I have zero, zero tolerance for recreational drug use or abuse of prescribed pharmaceuticals. If I find out you’re using again I will drop you as a client faster than you can blink, are we clear? This is a center of rehabilitation for the body and mind. People come here after they have had surgery, an injury, a heart attack like you, a stroke or other kinds of serious trauma or setbacks. But we are not a rehab facility for addicts. Got it? Secondly, I don’t know who you are, or, better yet, who you think you are but don’t think you can charm me like you charmed Lacy. I’m not impressed by money or power. You’re the client, and I’m your trainer, and the sooner you realize and accept that the better this relationship will be.”

  I caught my reflection in the sunglasses he’d hooked in the top of his shirt. I looked pissed off. Why was I so pissed off? I needed to cut the guy some slack. I didn’t know him, and he’d just had a heart attack. I berated myself for my earlier bitchiness and corrected my scowl. I could still maintain professionalism and also be nice. I was a nice person.

  I watched him as he processed my comments, his eyebrows dancing up and down on his tanned forehead while his lips twisted into a tiny pout. It was a cute look for him, I must admit, but I couldn’t let myself get distracted. Nice didn’t have to mean flirty either.

  “Well, Miss Black, I assure you I’m clean and plan to be for the foreseeable future, so you don’t have to worry about that. And as far as the charming goes… well, it’s up to you to be strong enough to resist my charms. I’m just being me.” A satisfied and wry little smirk caught on his mouth.

  I huffed a laugh and then reached for my pen. “Very well, Mister… Justin, if you don’t mind, I’m going to ask you a series of questions so I can get a better idea of your lifestyle. To understand how we can best help you here. Is that all right? I see you completed our online in-depth new client form, thank you, that saves us some time.”

  “Ask away, lady. I’m an open book.” He leaned back and crossed his ankle onto his knee again.

  “All right, well it says here that you are thirty-four, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “How often would you say you exercise per week and what does that exercise consist of?”

  “I don’t work out. At all.”

  “Oh, okay.” I scribbled a big line through the section concerning workout rout
ine.

  “And your diet. What does a typical day’s diet look like for you?”

  “Six cups of coffee, two in the morning, four spread out over the rest of the day, a microwave breakfast burrito if I remember to eat breakfast that is. Maybe a burger, or a slice or two of pizza for lunch and probably the same for dinner or maybe a steak if I have to go out for dinner with clients. And I love potato chips. I usually eat at least a bag a day while at work in my office, salt-and-vinegar or all-dressed, those are my faves. Sometimes I don’t have time for lunch, so I just down a bag of chips before a meeting. And then I finish the night off with a six-pack of beer or two or three doubles of scotch, usually.”

  “Wow, I’m surprised you’re not four hundred pounds.”

  “A fast metabolism runs in my family.”

  I tapped my pen against the desk. “Yes, well, just because you’re not overweight doesn’t mean you’re healthy. Now tell me about your personal life. What do you do to relax and have fun?”

  “I don’t. I work. All. The. Time. I socialize for work purposes, drinks with clients or potential clients, golf to schmooze. I have friends, but besides James I barely see them, we’re all too busy.”

  “Is James your… uh, partner?”

  “No,” he said flatly. Purposefully not giving me any inclination into his sexual orientation. Though by the way he flirted with Lacy and had been blatantly raking his eyes up and down my body, I’d bet he was as heterosexual as they come.

  “Romantic relationship status?”

  “Nothing significant.”

  “So, single?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you relieve stress?”

  “Sex. Or copious amounts of masturbation.”

  I looked up at him from beneath my lashes, determined to look professional and let him know that his comment, although meant to startle me, hadn’t fazed me in the least.

  “That’s it?”