by Julie Olsen
“I thought I was picking you up, no?” Weldon looked hurt.
“You know the Harley awaits, Liv. Just say the word,” Boone said, chewing thoughtfully. I nodded and smiled back. Boone’s only mode of transportation was a motorcycle. For two years he had been trying to get me on it, and I had been putting him off for just as long. After a particularly harrowing ride with an ex, I had found motorcycles just weren’t my thing.
“Weldon, I hate to impose. With, you know, Joe out of town and you stuck on kid duty.”
“It’s no trouble. You call, I come. Okay?” He gazed attentively and nodded.
“Okay okay. I’ll call tonight if I need you,” I said, having absolutely no intention of taking his offer. The man had enough going on with his partner, Joe, on the road for weeks at a time and two small children at home.
Once I was sure the guys weren’t watching, I gave Justine the call me gesture. She had another blind date tonight but, since she was fed up with dealing with Boone’s usual Blind Date Inquisition, I was the only one who knew. Justine nodded and mouthed bye, rolling her eyes one more time at a scarfing Boone as she exited.
Weldon deliberately cleared his throat before speaking softly. “Chica, I know this will test your patience, but was it really that bad? It’s just an hour. It’s like watching an episode of Real Housewives.” He snapped his fingers. “Over like that.”
Unwrapping my sandwich, I looked up at him. “She had me fetch her clean towels. Three times.” I took a bite.
“Some people use a lot of towels. It’s true.”
“She wouldn’t lay on the bench until I disinfected it.” I twisted the cap off my water bottle and took a swig.
“Many people are particular about germs. You know this.”
“Twice. I had to wipe it down then wipe it again with a fresh towel.”
“Ah, well, can you honestly say germs have never crossed your mind?”
“Please. The woman is crazy. She sort of flinches when I touch her. As if I had the plague.”
“Ha! She sounds like my kind of lady. Weldon, if Liv can’t handle her, switch us out. I bet I’ve got what she needs.” Boone’s eyes twinkled as he flexed his considerable biceps, then wadded up his sandwich wrapper and shot a three into the corner trash basket. Looking my way, his expression softened. “I’ll help if I can, you know that, Liv.” He smiled and winked. “Later, kids. I’m out of here. Thanks for the grub, Boss.” He left and the room felt ten times bigger. Boone was definitely a presence.
Weldon sighed. His large brown eyes lowered to his sandwich and stayed there. Suddenly I felt like an ungrateful schmuck. He was right, it was only an hour of my time, time Weldon paid me to train her. Why was I being so petty about this woman? Just because she was overbearing, conceited, stuck-up and acted holier-than-thou didn’t give me the right to rain on Weldon’s parade. This was my job. It was what I did. I would have to suck it up.
“Don’t worry, Weldon. I’ve had worse.” This was by no means true, but it had the desired effect. He raised his eyes and gave a toothy grin.
“I feel it in my bones, Liv. We are headed for the big time. This little gym. Nationwide. The big time.” His chocolate eyes danced as he spoke.
What could I do? I grabbed my water and we clinked bottles and chugged.
“Star One Fitness. To the stars, baby,” I grinned.
* * *
At three o’clock I called Lucy. She picked up on the first ring.
“What’s up? I’m up to my tits in peppers and onions and need to finish prep and get to Soulard before four.”
We affectionately called the food truck Lucy owned with her best friend Lindsay The Beast, since it lumbered along at a top speed of forty-five miles per hour. She never drove it that fast, though. Stuff tended to get tumbled around in the back like some huge industrial dryer. Sometimes she found loose bolts of unknown origin lying about after a particularly long drive.
“I won’t keep you. You know when you borrowed the Jeep last night for your grocery run? You left the lights on all night. Now the battery is dead. At least I think it’s the battery. So I had to ride my bike to work and was almost late for our new froufrou client, Angelique Pritchard-Price.”
“I did? Wait, Pritchard-Price? Isn’t she some kind of media darling? Wow, Weldon’s place is moving up in the world.”
I sighed. “You know Weldon. Always looking to crack the big time. He thinks she’s going to bring her high society friends, rich contacts, Real Housewives of St. Louis. But don’t change the subject. I’m now Jeep-less and get to ride my bike home in rush hour traffic. So thanks.”
“Liv, I am so sorry. Crap, I can’t believe I did that. Why don’t you ask Weldon to run you home?”
“He’s got Jason’s band concert tonight and has already left.”
She blew out a breath. “Well, I could come get you, but it’ll have to be after I finish this prep. Maybe in an hour—”
“No, I know you’re crazy busy. I just feel like whining today. And I’m worried about Josephine.”
“Hmm. Well, maybe I can get James to come over and take a look. His classes are almost over for the day. You know he’s good with car fix-it stuff.”
I sighed. “Luce that would be great. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, so forget it. I don’t know why I’m so bitchy today.”
“Are you PMS-ing? Listen, I’m off Friday night. Let’s go out and hit the town.”
I paused. A night out with Lucy usually resulted in us stumbling home in the wee hours, with pounding heads, churning stomachs, and a bucketful of regrets following close behind. “I can’t stay out all night. I’ve got the illustrious Mrs. Pritchard-Price at eight Saturday morning.”
“I can work with that,” she replied, and I detected a note of amusement. I had made similar requests before that usually went the route of all-nighters. “Gotta go, Sis. Won’t be home before two tonight.”
We hung up, and I couldn’t help but smile to myself. My sister had a way of diluting and diverting, so that what seemed an egregious offense before became simply a minor inconvenience that paled in comparison to the excitement at my upcoming night on the town. It dawned on me that she never said when she’d talk to her boyfriend, James, about taking a look at my car. Guess I would just call him myself when I got home.
At half past five I wheeled my bike out of Weldon’s office and waved good-bye to Erica and Lou, a husband and wife team who trained clients in the evenings, and Sadie, who worked the front desk when Weldon was off duty. Helmet in place and bag slung to fit neatly against my back, I slid my shades on and headed out. The sun was still high in the late-March sky and felt like heaven on my chilled skin. Weldon kept the gym thermostat set at a nipply sixty-two degrees. Drinking it in, I felt like a lizard basking in the warmth of the sun’s rays.
It was good to be moving my muscles after a day of watching other people move theirs. Traffic flowed nicely, and I hit mostly green lights as I rode through the city streets. With the wind in my face, I pedaled through the eclectic neighborhood of the Central West End. Trendy coffee houses, bistros and bars dotted each passing block, their terraces full as St. Louisans got a head start on their workweek. The gorgeous weather had brought everybody out and the sidewalks and storefronts were bustling with shoppers.
Cars rumbled by, occasionally buzzing my elbows and giving me a heady shot of adrenaline. I could seriously get used to this riding-to-work thing. As I skirted a pothole, I considered my evening options. Topping the list of things to do was getting in touch with James. Hopefully he could stop by tonight and fix Josephine with his magic touch. I couldn’t count the number of times he had brought The Beast back from the brink of death.
I turned onto Euclid Avenue, keeping as close as possible to the parking lanes. The sun’s glare was blazing as it set in the sky, and I had to squint to see ahead of me even with shades on.
Picking up speed, I moved carefully through a green-lighted in
tersection. I saw the car a breath before it slammed into me, violently changing my direction and sending me flying, my body not in charge of its own movements. Time stood still, if only in my mind. I knew I was going to hit the pavement and a blur of random memories shot through my brain. Dimly, I thought that this must be what it was like to see life flash before your eyes. It’s the last thought I had before there was nothing.
CHAPTER 2
“That’s right. Come on, now. Let’s see those eyes.”
A man’s voice—deep and rumbly—was my first cognizant awareness, followed immediately by the surreal understanding of what had just happened. I had been hit by a car. And now I was lying on the hard city street.
Unless I’m dreaming. Or I’m d…
My eyes fluttered open…and time stood still yet again as I stared into the most stunning face I had ever seen. Pale green eyes peered at me from between thickly fringed lashes. As my brain finally came back online, I noticed the mostly green color contained striations in equal parts copper and white that appeared to sparkle. I wanted to drown in their hypnotic depths.
With some effort I wrestled my gaze from those eyes and let it travel over the man’s face. A sprinkling of light freckles, indicating a life led under the sun, covered a slightly crooked nose. Finely chiseled lips, slightly parted, framed a mouth that even in my semi-conscious state begged for attention. Dimpled cheeks and chin were lightly dusted in a bristly stubble over lightly tanned skin. His rich brown hair ruffled in the breeze and hung over his forehead, partly obscuring his searching eyes and making me want to brush back the silky strands with my hands to tame them.
My mouth had been gaping open for as long as I had been staring at the man. Slowly I licked my dry lips, and he blinked, a frown marring his smooth forehead. Without being able to help it, my gaze was drawn again to his mouth. I heard his sharp intake of breath and I swallowed, aware only of his close proximity and oblivious to my surroundings.
“Can you hear me?”
The Adonis spoke, and it was all I could do not to close my eyes and let his deep voice move through my body on a shiver. He was so close as to be unnerving. I could see every detail of that beautiful face, smell his male scent. Instinctively I breathed him in. It was intoxicating.
Nodding my head, I gasped as my nervous system registered the first stab of pain and awareness settled over me. Within a nanosecond I was thrust back to my predicament, and I jerked my eyes from the angel poised above.
I was sprawled uncomfortably across the pavement, left arm pinned behind my back at a severe angle. Looking past his gorgeousness, I saw three bystanders, their faces pinched with worry, peering at me on my back. One held a phone to his ear and from what I could gather of the conversation, he was placing a call to 911.
The helmet still attached to my head prevented me from lying in any modicum of comfort. I longed to sit up and remove it to begin inspecting injuries.
As if reading my mind, he reached out to hold my upper arms in a firm grasp. “Don’t move.”
I gasped as a rippling wave of current pulsed where his hands touched my skin, and he jerked his gaze to where his hands gripped me, those stunning eyes widening for a brief moment. Even though I yearned to move, to check my parts, his touch paralyzed me. I went completely still, my breath hitching from its previous staccato. I was still extremely uncomfortable, yet for some inexplicable reason I didn’t question his command.
“An ambulance is on its way. Do you remember what happened?”
He might be an angel but this was no dream. A nightmare, more like. “I was hit.” My voice was a gravelly croak.
He slowly removed his hands and moved his eyes over my body, and it dawned on me that my legs were parted obscenely wide, as if I were the subject in a white chalk outline. I swiftly clamped them shut, ignoring a shooting pain somewhere in the vicinity of my right leg, and he grimaced, his eyes sparkling as they bored into mine.
“Do. Not. Move.”
A flush moved across his golden face. Okay, he meant business. The stabbing pain from earlier receded into a dull throb, but his disapproval stung like a fresh cut. I became overwhelmed and tears pricked at the back of my eyes.
“You are lucky to be alive. Are you in much pain?”
I blinked a few times and his glare softened. “Please. I want to move my arm. It’s killing me,” I said. As if this couldn’t be any more awkward, the sound of my voice, timid and afraid, produced a fresh wave of embarrassment. I was helpless, lying on a dirty street, without a clue of what my injuries might be, surrounded by people who stared like I was dying, and unable to do diddly-squat about it because an exceptionally breathtaking stranger told me to lie still.
An unpreventable sob wrenched from me.
I sat up. And the world spun.
The warmth of strong arms encircled my body and eased me back down again. His breath washed over me on a long exhale, fresh and clean and smelling like the ocean breeze.
“I’ve got you, my dazzling girl,” he murmured at my ear.
My world was fading away. “I’m not your girl,” I whispered. And once again the darkness took me.
* * *
I floated in a sweet fog. This place wasn’t so bad. A deep, even beat surrounded me, its rhythm soothing. I wanted to stay a while and sleep. I felt comfortable and peaceful, the pain locked away somewhere else. If only that horrible noise would stop, that high-pitched shrill getting louder and louder. And the shuffling around me, it was annoying.
I concentrated on breathing, the sound of it, how the air moved in and out of my lungs. The air smelled delicious and vaguely familiar. The more I took in, the more I wanted—to breathe it, touch it, taste it.
The fog was lifting. It peeled away, replaced by that clean, earthy, musky scent. I knew that smell. I had smelled it before, just before…
My eyes snapped open. There he was, Mr. Gorgeous. Crouched beside me. And I was in his arms.
I was hyperaware of his hard body, his clean, male smell, and my skin tightened against his. I was now completely awake. And mortified!
“Shhh. Don’t be afraid. The ambulance is just here,” he breathed in my ear.
My temper flared and strength returned to my limbs. I had had enough of this man telling me what to do. I bucked against his hold.
“Don’t you shush me. Let go of me!”
I slipped out of his arms to all fours. A chill enveloped me with the abrupt loss of his body heat. The asphalt was rough against my knees and a sharp pain sliced through me at the point of contact, but was my least concern.
“Miss, we’re here to help you.” The paramedic was beside me in a flash and touched me gently on the back.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice was calm and low, belying rising panic.
“Miss, you’ve had a bad accident. We just want to check you out,” a second paramedic said.
The logical and sane part of my brain knew this was a wise course of action. But right then I was not ruled by my rational side. No, my willful, stubborn side had control. And she was raring her head and not to be denied.
Taking a deep breath, I focused attention on my hands against the street and gingerly lifted myself to my feet, ignoring the paramedics and especially the man crouched beside me. I stood straight, a slight throbbing in my head and a definite stiffness at various points on my body, but nothing I couldn’t handle. I gave myself a brief once-over, noting with some apprehension a small trickle of blood at my elbow and a tear in my yoga pants, which led me to conclude some of my skin had most likely been left on the asphalt.
Applause broke out and several onlookers were clearly pleased to see me up on my feet. I gave a fleeting smile, and they almost immediately dispersed. With a small grin upon my lips and feeling better with each passing second, I turned, only to be greeted by the furious expression of Mr. Gorgeous.
My hackles rose and I threw back my shoulders, refusing to acknowledge the aches and
pains the simple motions produced. Two could play this game, mister. Shifting away from him, I faced the paramedics, who stood at the ready, though apparently now unsure what to do.
I cleared my voice and smiled sweetly. “I know you are just doing your job and I appreciate your efforts. But as you can see, I’m fine.”
“Why don’t you let us be the judge of that?”
“It’s really not necessary. If I were hurt, which I’m not, I would agree. But look.” With a silent prayer that this gamble would not backfire, I lifted my left leg and hopped a few times on my right. Success! “See?” I switched legs and hopped a few more times. The paramedics looked unconvinced.
“Miss, this man has said you lost consciousness twice. You could have a concussion or something worse. These are serious injuries that need treatment.”
I ground my mouth shut, turning a frosty glare toward Mr. Gorgeous. Now that we were not at street-level, I noticed how tall he was. And how wide his shoulders were under his crisp white shirt and lime-green tie that matched his eyes. My God, he was scrumptious, even with his grumpy face. But I was in top gear now, and he was about to get an earful.
My lips curled in the most acidic smile I could muster. “I don’t know if I should thank you or kick your ass. But I know which one I’d like to do.”
He blinked a few times and those brilliant eyes dulled. His gaze faltered and for a moment I felt I had the upper hand. But then his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw, the muscles jerking under his scruffy growth. My eyes widened and smile slipped. A part of me was pleased to have gotten under his skin. But a bigger part worried what I had done.
“You need to learn some manners. Shall I help you with that?” His eyes were now slits.
You need to learn some manners. A submerged memory nudged me but I tamped it down, focusing instead on that ticking muscle on his jaw. What would it feel like to run my fingers over his scruff-covered jawline?
My lips parted of their own accord, and I blood thundered in my ears. I stared at him and him at me, my eyes finally drawn from his glittering gaze to his mouth. My own mouth watered and heat ran from my breasts to my stomach. And then even farther down.