Fit for You

by Cynthia Tennent

  He cupped my glutes in his hands. “I must be doing something wrong if you want to talk about kitchen remodeling.”

  “I was just thinking about hard things. That’s all.”

  “You were?” He deftly hooked a leg around a nearby stool and pulled it toward me. “Try this.” He propped my leg up. My good knee wrapped around his waist safely now.

  He stood between my legs and ground himself against me. I moaned.

  “Still thinking about the countertop?”

  I reached between us—my answer was obvious. He growled and moved against my hand. “I might be a little ticklish there, too, Lily.”

  “Really?”

  “You might need to double-check.”

  It turns out his assessment was fairly accurate. After a moment, he grabbed my hand and made me stop.

  “I’m only human,” he grunted before going on his own search of my ticklish regions.

  He raised my shirt over my head and removed my bra. His lips trailed down to my nipples and he found them with a gentle tug.

  I shrieked.

  “You are ticklish!”

  “Not fair. I didn’t use my teeth.”

  “Hmmm.”

  As Edge’s mouth made me crazy, the rest of him committed me to an asylum. Chiseled muscle, light sprinkling of hair. I wanted more, though. I grasped his jeans.

  “Are you protected?” he mumbled in my ear.

  Reality washed over me like a cold shower. “Oh my God, I went off the pill when I had surgery.” Not that I had needed it for a long time.

  He licked the underside of my ear and chuckled. “Good thing I stopped by the pharmacy after our wrestling match the other day.”

  Boing! The heat returned and went straight to my core. I couldn’t resist a jibe. “You were that sure?”

  “I was hopeful . . . You were a pretty amazing wrestler.”

  “Thank God for your ticklish axilla,” I teased.

  He planted a kiss on my bare shoulder and said, “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  Once he was gone I kicked off my shoes and attempted the awkward removal of my brace and my pants. I pulled the Velcro on my knee as quietly as possible, cringing at the harsh sound, like nails on a chalkboard. The brace dropped on the floor with a clunk. I shifted my weight back and forth as I shimmied the pants down. They were caught up in my knees just as Edge returned, holding up a condom.

  “Here’s to axillas,” he said, holding up the packet.

  He stopped when he saw my distress. “Let me help.”

  “No, I can do it,” I squeaked as I almost toppled off the countertop. My panties were caught under me and I couldn’t lean down far enough to get the stupid stretch pants past my knees.

  I felt as helpless as I did the first day I met Edge. Only now, instead of a being unable to get into a truck, like a frail old lady, I was like a child unable to get my own clothes off.

  “Some kind of trainer.” My voice cracked with my frustration. “Can’t even get my damn pants off before—”

  “Hey.” Edge’s arms went around me, steadying me.

  I buried my head in his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m just a klutz. Let’s pretend this night never happened. Okay?”

  He pulled away. “That was a rare joke from you, right?”

  “This is just so stupid. I’m so stupid.”

  He cupped my cheek and gave me a tender kiss. “Yeah. You’re being kind of stupid.”

  “Wha—?”

  “You think I care that you aren’t agile? Geez, Lily. Don’t you know that removing a woman’s clothes is like the biggest turn-on for a man? Ever.”

  Well, yeah. I knew that. But my experience was pretty limited. I’d had a grand total of two lovers in my life. One who had broken my immature heart at the age of twenty-one when he had stopped returning my calls after three months of being together. And one who I dated two years ago. We lost interest by mutual agreement. Since then I figured that I just wasn’t the kind of woman who was suited to relationships and explosive sex.

  I didn’t know how to be sexy for him. We were both winging it.

  Edge put his hands on my hips and made sure I wasn’t going to topple over. Then he backed up to examine where I had left off. The light from the bedroom bounced off his face. His eyes sparkled with a wicked glint. With his beard and his hungry expression, he reminded me of a devil. A sexy one.

  Slowly he peeled my pants down, running his palms over the sensitive area in the back of each knee. He followed each inch with a kiss that made goose bumps break out all over. He lingered at my ankles, taking the time to kiss each one.

  Finally, he dropped my pants to the floor with relish. “Success.”

  The exciting tingle of cool night air caressed my exposed center. He lowered himself until he was kneeling between my legs and the coolness was replaced by the molten heat of his tongue.

  I threw my head back and arched my spine, letting my elbows drop to the counter behind me. I forgot all about my embarrassing ineptness as I cried out.

  “Hold on, baby, we might need to protect you from injury here.”

  Edge pulled back, a cheeky smile making him look more devilish. He stood up, holding my brace in one hand. He looped it back up my leg until it was in the correct position.

  “I’m not walking anywhere,” I whined. “Are you delaying this for fun?”

  His chest rumbled and he grinned. “Just being safe. I have no idea how out of control you get under these circumstances.”

  Neither did I, actually. Once the Velcro was in place I opened my legs wider. He took the invitation and returned to what he had been doing.

  I was beyond incoherent as he brought me close to a peak. Before I could catch my breath, he stood up and adjusted the condom.

  I grasped him around his back and pulled him into me. We clung to each other and finished the journey we started. It was exhilarating and crazy, and scary the way my self-control shattered. It was the explosive sex I didn’t think I was capable of. Edge took me on a dizzy ride that brought me far away from the room, the town . . . and from myself.

  * * *

  A moonbeam made its way through the skylight and traveled across my face. I studied its slow path and enjoyed the warmth of Edge next to me. Instead of a pull-out couch or a hammock, as I had somehow imagined, Edge’s mattress was deluxe and his sheets were as fine as silk. My skin prickled in all the tracks Edge’s beard had forged across my skin. Instead of feeling chafed, I felt like he had given me a new layer of nerves I hadn’t known existed.

  I shouldn’t gloat. I had probably just broken one of the cardinal rules of fitness trainers. Not technically. Edge wasn’t one of my clients. But in a way the whole county was my client. By sleeping with one of the town’s favorite sons, I may have opened myself to some sort of ethical dilemma.

  Unless—it was just a one-night fling.

  I was so naïve I probably wouldn’t recognize a fling if it reached out and bit me.

  My brace lay across the bottom of the bed where I had taken it off before I went to sleep. The back of my head rested on Edge’s arm.

  The moonbeam had shifted to his face now. He threw a hand over his eyes. “Turn off the light,” he grumbled.

  Someone was testy. Louise had told me he was grouchy about waking up. Interesting. “Sorry, sleepyhead. I can’t reach to turn off that particular light.”

  “Hmmm?” He stirred and I lifted my head in case he wanted his arm back. But he caught my shoulder and pulled me close. I curled into his side at the invitation.

  He threw a hand across his eyes and whined, “That’s like a headlight, it’s so bright.”

  “Why did you add a skylight if you don’t like being woken up by light, Mr. Grump?” I asked.

  I thought he was falling asleep again. Then he spoke. “Wasn’t it full the other night?”

  “I can’t remember. I think it’s waning now . . . or maybe it’s waxing?”

  He turned on his side and kissed the top
of my breast. “Hey, I’m in bed with a really smart lady. Waxing . . . Waning . . . First anatomy, now astronomy. Tell me more.”

  “Waxing means making its way to a full moon and waning means—” I stopped and glanced down at his grin. “Wait a minute. I saw a textbook on astronomy in your bedroom in the main house. You know exactly what the two mean.”

  “I guess I forgot,” he said, forging a new journey across my body with the tip of his tongue.

  I savored the massage. Then curiosity got the best of me. “You like to make yourself sound stupid on purpose sometimes. Why do you do that?”

  “I guess low expectations means I never disappoint.”

  I closed my eyes. “I’m living proof of that.”

  He let out a low whistle and fell back against the pillow. “Does that mean you weren’t disappointed?”

  I rolled over, careful not to put pressure on my right leg, until I was on top of him. “Satisfied customer.”

  “As a businessman I love to hear that. Perhaps you would like to join my frequent shopper club?” He wrapped both hands around my lower back and let my right leg sink between his legs. I loved how he seemed to understand where my knee would be most comfortable.

  I wanted to take him up on his frequent shopper offer, but my earlier worries weighed me down. “I have to tell you, I feel a little weird about all this.”

  “This?” he asked, thrusting his hips toward me. There was no doubt he was ready to improve customer satisfaction. But I wasn’t going to be derailed so easily.

  “No really. I’m screwing things up all over the place.” I scrunched up my face at the bad choice of words. “You know what I mean. I am not doing too well. Attendance at my weekly fitness and nutrition classes has been dropping each week. Everyone in town will know about my disaster on the treadmill by tomorrow. I’m not sure being with you is . . . I wasn’t planning on starting a relationship.”

  “I wasn’t either. But life is like that. Before my grandma had her stroke, she used to say, You can’t plan on anything. Especially the weather.”

  “Are we talking about snow or sex now?”

  He kissed my nose. “She meant, just take it as it comes. We can’t predict the future. Live in the now. She was really good at that.”

  I bit my lip. I didn’t tell him that wasn’t my style. My notebooks were full of all sorts of ideas. Things I wanted to do. Ways I wanted to help get Truhart in shape. Thoughts I had for a gym. Thinking about the sorry state of my plans made me crazy.

  Edge pulled my lips down to his, sending all my worries up into the night. I stared up at the beam that illuminated the wall behind us now. Like the moon, I wasn’t sure if my troubles were waxing or waning.

  LESSON FOURTEEN

  Be Creative

  Finding a chance to replay our amazing night had been virtually impossible over the weekend without alerting the whole Callahan family. Edge worked at the Dairy Cow all weekend. The girls wanted me to watch a chick flick with them Saturday night. On Sunday night, Louise and Ivy watched an old movie until late, sitting on the couch next to the window that overlooked the ranch. Edge had crept in after work and we fooled around. But the noise of his impressionable teenage sisters arguing about the cap on the toothpaste had stopped us both.

  I reminded Edge that we were adults and shouldn’t make a bad impression on his sisters.

  “We are adults. Why don’t you just come to my place and spend the night and to hell with my family,” he said.

  “We’ll figure it out when the time is right, and I don’t have to explain to your sisters,” I told him before pushing him into the recreation room, where we watched the rest of the Wings hockey game.

  If anyone suspected our liaison, they didn’t say a word. Although I did notice Louise looking at me speculatively the morning after I slept at Edge’s house.

  “Are you getting a rash on your neck, Lily?” she had asked. I’d never been with a man who had a beard.

  I patted my neck. “Sensitive skin. I used my emulsifying scrub this morning.”

  Edge showed up for the family dinner Saturday and Sunday. To my surprise, he cooked dinner both nights.

  When Louise saw my jaw drop as he walked up the stairs carrying a pot of soup, she laughed. “I made sure all my kids knew how to cook before they were old enough to drive,” she told me. “We’re still working on Olivia.”

  Tracy added, “None of us are brave enough to eat Peter’s cooking. And mine is basic. Edge is the only one with the real talent. Thank God he has his counter installed now.”

  I stared at the white chicken chili and tried not to think about what had been cooked on that counter. Edge must have read my mind because his smile made his beard as large as a throw rug.

  Edge stopped by on Monday after my creative fitness class. Rocky couldn’t drive me home, and Edge offered to come. While he waited for me to mark the last of my walkers’ progress, he played on the equipment that Joe O’Shea had made for me from PVC pipes and wood planks. He jumped around like a kid on a playground. He tested the old soccer balls Rocky and I had filled with sand and threw them against the concrete block wall. He bounced on the boxes with the excitement of a first-grader. He slung the ropes we had anchored by hooks into the wall, back and forth with amazing ease.

  When the last person left, he pointed at the cans and water bottles stacked against the wall. “Are you having a food drive soon?”

  I picked up a can and lifted it like a barbell. “These are the weights we are using until the ladies can raise enough money for real weights.”

  Edge picked me up and set me on a platform box Joe O’Shea had helped make. We had lined them with a thin layer of padding from the local arts and crafts store and then covered them with duct tape and vinyl. I looped my arms around his neck and enjoyed the fact that I was slightly taller than him for once.

  He ran his roughened thumb under my shirt and caressed my hip. “You have done wonders with the budget you have been given. Even with a ThighMaster.”

  “Flo found that at a garage sale.” I took advantage of my newfound height and messed up Edge’s wavy hair. “I just wish all this creativity would inspire a few more people to attend my gym classes.”

  “That bad?”

  “Yeah. All the enthusiasm people felt for working out and getting fit has worn off. Attendance has dropped to almost half of what I had in the beginning.”

  “There were a lot of walkers today.”

  “Yeah, but it has become a bit of a social thing now. I’m trying to get them to increase their mileage. One or two miles seems to be fine, then people start peeling off for garage sales, double coupon day at the Family Fare, and coffee. I even had three people stop in for cookies at the church bake sale the other day.”

  He soothed a sore muscle in my back. “Give it time, Lily Bud. On the bright side, we could figure out a whole new use for this platform. You on top, legs wide, or me on top, you inverted—”

  “Stop it!” I picked up my duffel bag with my notes and my own personal equipment in it and he grabbed them from me.

  “After you,” he said, waving his hand in the air. “I have to make a run to Lakeview. You don’t mind coming with me, do you?”

  I shook my head. Spending more time with Edge was always good with me.

  I followed him to the truck, staring at his back and thinking naughty thoughts about the gym and ways we could use the equipment to our advantage. By the time he started the engine, I was breathing in short little huffs and trying to ignore the tingle in interesting parts of my body.

  Edge must have been feeling the same way, because he kept clearing his throat. When we pulled into Lakeview, Edge yanked the truck into park and we crashed against each other like overeager teenagers who had just discovered the wonders of necking. The way my body acted on its own when I was around Edge was crazy. His truck had become my conditioned stimulus, like food was for Pavlov’s dogs. Each time I saw it I went into heat.

  Edge’s hand was inside my
coat, working its way under my shirt when some sixth sense caused me to open one eye.

  Three faces peered out the day care window as if we were the nightly news.

  “Uh, Edge—Edge! We have an audience.”

  He turned and waved at the onlookers. They waved back and dropped the curtain in place.

  I collapsed against the seat. “Oh my God. You go in, I can’t show my face.”

  “We just made their day,” Edge said, closing his eyes and struggling for control.

  “Maybe you should come back later. On your own.”

  “Come on,” he coaxed me. He reached behind him. “Besides, you haven’t had a chance to witness my amazing talent yet.”

  “What?”

  He pulled a guitar case out of the back. “Me and Jimmy Page were like one person once. You’ll love this.”

  I let him lead me by the hand into Lakeview and wondered if Edge was ever boring. Every day was different with him, whether he was handing out Pete’s Treats under the udders of the Dairy Cow or running around playing hide-and-seek with his nephews. Each day was like unwrapping a piece of him and finding something new.

  “Hey, everyone, Karaoke with Callahan–time!” he announced as we entered the front door.

  A half dozen white-haired campers greeted him with smiles on their faces. “Can you play ‘Camptown Races’ again like you did last week, Edge?”

  Camptown Races? I put my hand over my mouth to hide my amusement. Edge looked at me with a straight face. “It is a good song.”

  “Whatever you say . . . Jimmy.”

  He put his chin in the air and pretended irritation as he walked ahead of me to the meeting room and set his case on the floor. Behind me, one of the aides moved into the arts-and-crafts room and then down the hall, clapping her hands. “Edge is here. Come on, everyone. Time for Karaoke with Callahan!”

  Seniors popped out from various corners of the facility. Some were pushed by aides, others shuffled along behind their walkers. It was like rush hour at the Golden Corral. I saw two able-bodied ladies almost trip each other as they entered.

  “Take your time, ladies. There is room for all,” Edge called out to them.

  I made myself comfortable against the wall near the back corner and looked for Ivy. She sat by the window. Still watching the traffic as it passed.