Going Deep Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

by DePaul, Virna

  Zoe didn’t let it bother her. She kept him focused on what she considered important, including slowing down by utilizing eccentric contractions during his bicep curls and shoulder lifts. Then and only then did she give him the high-octane testosterone workout he craved.

  The entire time, when she wasn’t distracted by watching his muscles bulge and flex, and hearing him grunt the way he might during sex, she was hyper aware of her facilities, how the paint was peeling on some of the machines, how one area of carpet really needed ripping out and replacing.

  She’d never felt ashamed of her father’s former gym before, but Iron Maiden was really looking old. She wouldn’t let her troubles get her down, though. She was great at training athletes even though her gender was a sticking point for a lot of them.

  She just hoped Gabe kept her on for the six weeks she’d been counting on. With the money she’d earn, she’d be able to pay her father’s care home bill, the gym’s late rent, and possibly even the gym’s rent for the month after that. After that, she and Pete would have to seriously reevaluate things. She might have to sell her house and rent a small place, maybe even get a roommate.

  Bottom line, she was in deep trouble financially. Things had to change, and soon, and that change wouldn’t come nearly as fast if Gabe decided not to work with her.

  Zoe ushered Gabe to the corner where she had him jump rope and hit the heavy bag. His physical prowess was impressive as hell. His determination to succeed was admirable and he seemed to be a man she could respect, aside from the fact he had an obvious problem working with a trainer that was a woman.

  It was during his last set of abs, when she gently touched his midsection with soft fingertips, and he practically flinched, that she started to wonder—was the problem that she was a woman, or that she was a woman he was attracted to?

  The thought caused a hot flush to shoot through her. It couldn't matter, though. Gabe was off limits. First, he was her client, or at least hopefully would be at the end of their session. And second, he was a football player, a man meant for the spotlight. Zoe didn’t date (or sleep with) professional athletes on principal. She’d already spent a lifetime trying to be a priority to a man who cared more about football than anything else before Alzheimer’s Disease took her father. She didn’t need to come in second best to a sport yet again.

  When the workout ended with a complex set of lateral drills and then some cool down stretches, Gabe wasn’t even breathing heavy but sweat drenched him from head to toe. Reaching for a shelf against the wall, she grabbed him a clean towel, handing it to him while keeping her gaze averted. But she could see it in her mind—the way he rubbed off his arms and shoulders. He might’ve even been lifting his shirt to run the towel across his midsection. She could feel his burning gaze on her, and when she checked to see if he was, found she was right. Those steel blue eyes and that shoulder tattoo would haunt her tonight.

  Good Lord, she needed water. Reaching for her bottle, she chugged down what was left of it in one gulp before straightening to face him again, trying her hardest to look nonchalant and more than likely failing.

  “Well?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve had better.” She gaped at him, speechless, as he sauntered toward the door. Once he’d opened it, however, he turned back and a naughty grin quirked one corner of his mouth. “But you’ll do,” he called. “I’ll see you next week, peach.”

  Chapter 3

  Two hours later, Gabe was still kicking himself.

  Not because he’d told Zoe he’d had better—although that had been a lie—but because of what he’d said after that—you’ll do. He should’ve taken the out she’d given him and gotten another trainer. Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny two things. First, that during those two hours at Iron Maiden, he’d been trained by the best. And second, he was beyond attracted to Zoe, and he wanted to see her again despite the distraction she represented.

  Sitting alone at the counter of Pete’s Bar & Grill—a bar near the Bootleggers’ stadium that Murph had texted to meet her at—Gabe muttered a curse and took a long swig from his pint glass. Letting Zoe stay on as his trainer would come back to bite him, he just knew it. Hell, she was already haunting him now. That tell-all face with those wide, green eyes that didn’t miss a trick. Those full lips and those pretty white teeth. He hadn’t given her much reason to smile, but for some reason, he was sure a dimple was hiding there somewhere. And he was a sucker for a dimple.

  Right now, though, it was her body taking up the majority of his brain space. Lean and tight, she’d packed into a pair of serviceable black leggings and a purple exercise top that should’ve looked like nothing special but on her—

  “So how did it go? Isn’t she great!”

  He cocked his head to see his sister settling into the stool next to him, stringing her bag over the backrest. She had a breezy big grin like nothing was wrong in the world. “How did it go?” he demanded irritably. “Did you forget to mention this new trainer was a female?”

  Murph snorted a laugh. “No, I didn’t forget. Seemed like a fifty-fifty chance it would be a woman, right?”

  “I clearly remember asking you where you found the ‘guy’. You didn’t correct me.”

  She just shrugged. “Serves you right for making assumptions.”

  “Damn it, Murph. You should’ve mentioned it.”

  “Gabe, honestly, why do you care?”

  Gabe grunted and chugged the rest of his beer. Why did he care? Maybe because after his work out, he’d gone home to change, but first he’d taken a shower and jacked off to thoughts of Zoe. Instead of getting her out of his head, flashes of the pleasure he’d felt while imagining her naked still rattled through him.

  He signaled to the bartender for another beer.

  The man in his mid-twenties came over, a good-looking dude with dark hair and green eyes who was just his sister’s type. “Another pint for you, sir? And you, miss?” He gave Murph a dashing smile, and she immediately batted her eyelashes and ordered a pint of Sam Adams for herself. He presented Murph with a cold one in two seconds flat. He took considerably longer to get Gabe’s.

  Murph offered him a playful smile. “Gee, Pete, I thought only women could be beer wenches. Maybe I shouldn’t be ordering from you. What do you think, big brother?” She swiveled toward Gabe. “We okay with this stunning turn of events, or should we go someplace less progressive?”

  First of all, leave it to his sister to already know the bartender’s name—was he the Pete who owned Pete’s Bar and Grill? And second, leave it to her to so easily convince the bartender to play along.

  “Miss, I promise I can do this job as well as any wench can,” Pete said.

  Murph ran her fingertip along the glass’s edge. “But you don’t have the boobs, so…”

  “True, but my pouring speed is second to none. And boobs aren’t everything.”

  “I don’t know,” his sister flirted. “Boobs are pretty important.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Gabe interrupted. “You’ve made your point.”

  Pete laughed and sauntered off to take care of another customer.

  “Listen, I’m not a sexist asshole,” Gabe said. “Remember who used to play tea party with you only to turn around and drive you to football practice a few years later.”

  She made a face and held up her beer. “Yep, you done good, big brother. Down with the patriarchy.” Murph took a long swig. “So what’s the big deal that the trainer is a woman?”

  Gabe clenched his jaw, not wanting to come straight out and tell Murph how attracted he was to Zoe, but her widening eyes told him she’d figured it out before she said anything else.

  “Wait a minute! I think I know…”

  “You don’t know.”

  “It’s not that Zoe Reynolds is a woman—it’s that Zoe Reynolds is hot. You like her!”

  “I didn’t say that,” he grunted.

  “You didn’t have to say it, Gabe. I see it all over your face. But look, so what? Di
d she do a good job?”

  “Yes, she did a fucking fantastic job. That’s why I didn’t fire her.”

  “Good. Continue to think with your head, not your dick, and you’ll be fine.”

  “Says the girl flirting with the bartender on a first-name basis.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I already know him. He was there when I stopped by Iron Maiden to hire your female trainer. We chatted and he told me about this place.”

  “Yeah? What else did he tell you?”

  “Zoe and Pete Reynolds are brother and sister, and the kids of Kip Reynolds.”

  Gabe’s brows shot up. “Hall of Fame quarterback? Perfect season in 1989?”

  “Yep. It’s no wonder she knows what a big, bad football player like you needs. She learned from the best. So, suck it up, buttercup.”

  Wow, his sister really had found the best for him. Kip Reynolds had been a hero of Gabe’s when he was a kid. Pop had loved watching him play back in the day.

  “Are you excited for your first practice with the team?” Murph asked. “I’m sure they’re looking forward to meeting their new brother.”

  A bitter laugh rumbled up from his chest. “I had brothers at the Noise and look how that turned out.”

  “These guys will become your brothers, too. Just watch. Remember, the Bootleggers wanted you or they wouldn’t have brokered such a great deal to get you.”

  “I guess,” he muttered. He still couldn’t help but feel like the Noise had left him out to pasture like a lame horse, so while he was going to go into practice with a good attitude, he also wasn’t going to get attached. To anyone, anything, or anyplace. He wouldn’t make the same mistake as last time by thinking of his team as family. He’d do the job he came to do, but wouldn’t create any emotional ties. His new coach wouldn’t be his father. His teammates wouldn’t be his brothers. They were teammates, not friends.

  There were no friends in football—just a job.

  He was ordering his third beer when the door opened and a beautiful woman stepped into the bar. He stiffened and felt a tug low in his belly when he recognized Zoe. Her long dark hair was loose, she wore jeans with an off-the-shoulder top, and she carried a purse. She looked more relaxed than she had in the gym, softer, more casual, but she also looked tired, and Gabe winced, knowing that he’d contributed to that by being so difficult. As she headed toward the bar, however, his guilt didn’t stop him from staring at her spectacular ass.

  “Speak of the devil, and the devil appears,” Murph said, smirking because she’d caught him staring at Zoe in the worst way possible. “Big brother, you are so fucked.”

  Zoe didn’t see him at the end of the bar and took a seat one short stool away from his sister. She seemed intent on seeing her brother instead of checking out her surroundings, a sign that she probably came here often to talk to him.

  “I need a shot of tequila and a light beer, stat, good buddy,” she told Pete when he shuffled up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “You won’t believe the cocky bastard I had the pleasure of training this afternoon.”

  Cocky bastard? For a moment, he was instantly jealous that she had trained some other guy, then pissed at himself for being jealous, then pissed that someone had been a dick to her. Finally, it dawned on him—she was talking about him.

  Pete chuckled and tilted his head toward Gabe. Murph leaned back to give Gabe and Zoe space to notice one another, and Zoe’s eyes widened when she spotted him.

  Gabe gave her a “what’s-up” nod. “Nice to see you, too, Zoe.”

  Chapter 4

  Please, God, don’t let this be happening.

  Oh, it was happening, all right. Gabe Murphy was sitting at the other end of the bar and his sister, Murph, sat beside him, a wide grin splitting her face when she called out.

  “Hey, Zoe! Fancy meeting you here!”

  “Hello, lovely clients,” she managed to choke out. “Nice to see you. I’m just going to take my drinks, and my mortification over here.” With an awkward little wave, she picked up all her stuff and moved down the bar. She wasn’t sure why she moved, except that maybe she’d already inflicted enough damage and it was best if she left with her tail between her legs. “Cheers.” She raised her glass.

  They raised theirs in return.

  She took another seat down the bar, looked at her brother and muttered, “I can’t believe I just said all that. Note to self: check my surroundings next time before I spew insults.”

  “Or, speak your mind and deal with the consequences,” Pete said.

  “You’re not helping,” she muttered, downing her shot of tequila. Tequila would help her pretend that Gabe Murphy was not at the other end of the bar, taking occasional glances at her, probably thinking she was the biggest jerk in the world.

  “Hey, if it’s any consolation, he was talking about you and saying some pretty stupid stuff too, before you got here, so don’t worry about it.” Pete wiped the counter before placing a bowl of peanuts down in front of her.

  “Actually, get me a pizza, please.”

  “Pizza?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, pizza.” She spent six days of the week working on her body hardcore and usually avoided gluten and sugar, but she treated herself once in a while. After the workout she’d given Gabe and the way she’d just embarrassed herself, she deserved it. “So, what did he say?”

  “Just how ugly and pathetic you are.”

  She gaped at him.

  “Kidding, Zo. Nothing terrible, but I can’t break the bartender’s code of non-disclosure. You know that.” He winked and left to put in her pizza order.

  Zoe thumbed through her phone, mostly so she wouldn’t have to awkwardly sit there, pretending that Gabe Murphy wasn’t down the bar still staring at her, even as his plate of food arrived and he ate while his sister talked his ear off. She managed to sneak several glances his way without him noticing.

  He was even more gorgeous in his street clothes. Dressed in jeans and a black print T-shirt, his hair semi-wet from a shower, a heel up on the stool’s footrest, another planted on the floor in brown boots, Gabe was all cool, comfortable, no-nonsense. He looked like a man who’d put in a hard day and just wanted to chill without being bothered. And here she’d come in calling him a cocky bastard—to a paying client.

  Great move, dumbass.

  Pete might not be willing to tell her what Gabe had said about her, but it was probably something like how mediocre she was as a trainer compared to others, huge men with immense, meaty arms, ripped abs and enough testosterone to power the gym’s light bill, blah, blah, blah. She downed half her beer in one swig.

  This was stupid. She should just go talk to him. They were both adults. Avoiding him was no way to start a professional relationship.

  She waited for the right moment when he was more distracted by his meal than by her, after his sister got up to head for the ladies’ room. Zoe picked up her beer and slid down the bar.

  “Hello, again,” she said, leaning against the bar top.

  He looked up through steel blue eyes. “Oh, hey. Just a warning, I’m a cocky bastard,” he said, giving her a sexy side glance that made her stomach flip. “I’ll bite if you’re not careful.”

  For 2.2 seconds, it was all Zoe could think about—Gabe Murphy biting her. Gently, on the neck, pulling her hair as he pounded into her. No, no. Focus, Zoe.

  “I’m really sorry I called you that. I was just letting off some steam. You’re not really a cocky bastard. Well, not too cocky. Not really a bastard either. Only a little bit.” The words weren’t coming out as smoothly or professionally as she’d hoped. In fact, she was basically crashing and burning.

  A gruff sound of humor rumbled up from his chest. “I’ll have to try harder then,” he said. “I was going for supremely cocky. Guess I missed the mark.”

  “Nah, you made it just within the cocky-enough spectrum,” she teased, relaxing now that he’d taken the olive branch she’d offered.

  “Good to know.”
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  “Seriously, though, as a client, you have every right to be comfortable with your trainer, so that was unfair of me. Especially when we’ll be spending so much time together.”

  At this, he paused to look at her, and she felt his gaze burning off the clothes she’d thrown on tonight. Men normally checked her out, especially in her tight workout clothes, but this was more. This was exposure.

  She blushed and drank her beer, glancing away, pretending to be intrigued by what Pete was doing instead of Gabe. “Regardless of us butting heads a little,” she said, “I actually think our workout styles mesh really well. I know we’re going to make a great team.”

  He leaned back on his stool. “I agree,” he said. “And I’m sorry, too, for the way I acted when I met you, and for yanking your chain later and telling you ‘you’ll do.’ That was a stupid thing to say, considering how good you were. Lucky for me you showed up so I could apologize and issue you a challenge this time.”

  “A challenge?”

  “Darts.” He stood and plucked the darts out of the board, handing them to her along with a side of smolder. “Want to show me what you can do?”

  Lord, there went her overactive imagination again, conjuring images of things she could show Gabe, and none of them had anything to do with the gym or a dartboard. “Definitely.”

  “Zo…” Pete had brought her pizza and set it down as he cleared Gabe’s plate.

  “Thanks, buddy,” she said, snatching herself a slice and taking three quick bites. Positioning herself to throw the darts, holding her slice in the other, she aimed and speared the first just outside the inner ring.

  “Holy shit. I don’t know what’s hotter, the fact you just nailed that or did it with your mouth stuffed with pizza.”

  She shot him an amused look and aimed the second dart. “You’re in trouble now.”