by Leslie North
“You ready for the donation of the century?”
The Gray House Foundation was sort of a halfway home for men who were recovering from issues related to addiction and/or mental illness. They provided a safe living space that offered healthy habits and structure while the residents regained their foothold on life, and a gymnasium and weight room had been on their wish list for quite a while. Once Blake had reached out, they’d been more than happy to clear out and organize a space for the donated equipment.
“Of course,” Michelle said. “I’m glad you went with these guys. They’re a great foundation.”
“All on your recommendation,” Blake said with a smile, leading the way around the building where a semitruck was parked by the back of the building. The double doors to the new gymnasium were open, which allowed workers to funnel in and out of the building, unloading the equipment. Blake had arranged for all the replacement equipment to be delivered to the Seagulls weight room today, so there would be no interruption in the training of the baseball team.
Normally, if he was doing something like this, he wouldn’t bring along extra personnel. Hell, he wouldn’t even normally show up himself. But this sort of donation required an additional touch. And once the machines were dropped off, he wanted Michelle to teach the workers at the facility how to use them properly—an idea she’d been thrilled by.
“I’m excited to see the new gym they have for the residents,” Michelle said. “I know they did their best to have spaces where people could do cardio or yoga, but it’s great that they’re finally going to have a fully stocked weight room.”
“Weight training changes lives, here and otherwise,” Blake said.
“Is that why you don’t stick to a regular weight training routine?” Michelle teased, nudging him in the side.
He smirked, sliding his hand over the small of her back and around to the dip in her waist. He gently squeezed once before releasing her. “Hey, now. You got a problem with the way I look or something?”
“Not at all,” Michelle said sweetly, tipping her chin up to look at him. “I thought I made that clear the other night?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. I might need a little more reassurance. Maybe another evening on your couch.”
“I’d be okay with that.”
“Good. And, I forgot to tell you…” He slowed his steps as they neared the semitruck. He jerked his chin toward the equipment being unloaded. “I saved the rowing machine for you. If you want it.”
Her eyes widened. “You want to gift me the rowing machine?”
“Yes, of course. You deserve it. Besides, you said it was your favorite.”
She blinked rapidly, her gaze shifting to the men carrying a bench press down the ramp off the semi. “Blake, that’s…that’s so sweet of you. I really appreciate it. I just—”
“What is it?”
“I don’t think I have anywhere to put it.”
Blake grimaced, nodding as he mulled it over. He ran over her townhouse in his mind’s eye, and she was right—save sticking it in the backyard, where it would rapidly deteriorate, her house wasn’t big enough to receive something like that. A fact he had sort of overlooked in his eagerness to do something nice for her.
“I really wanted you to have it. But you’re right.”
She smiled up at him, squeezing his arm. “That’s very nice of you, though.”
“Can we just pretend that you accepted my gift, and it’ll fit nicely in your home gym?” he asked.
“Absolutely. And trust me, in this imaginary home gym, it fits wonderfully.”
He grinned, getting lost in the contours of her face again. “Fine. But I still need to do something nice for you.”
She swatted at his arm. “No, you don’t.”
“But I want to,” he insisted, stepping closer to her. Michelle had a magnetic quality to her. He couldn’t ignore it, much less step away. It was like wherever she was, he wanted to be there too. Their few days between each visit had started feeling more and more like an eternity.
“Well, that’s sweet of you.”
“How about I just move on to the next nice thing I was trying to plan for you?” he asked, reaching for her hand. He started swaying slowly, almost like they had on the dance floor at dinner last week.
A blush stained her cheek, and she watched him shyly. “What could it possibly be?”
“I remember a certain someone told me they’d run a 5k a day if they could,” he said, finally sliding his hands over the tops of her hips. They were mere inches away, but he still craved more. Closer. All of her. “Well, I found out there’s a 5k coming to a neighborhood near us this Saturday. Wanna do it?”
She gasped. “Really? Do you know what the entry fee is?”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”
“Blake—”
“Don’t you naysay me. I have money, and I’m going to spend it on you.” When her blush deepened, he added, “On things that you want to do, and make you healthy and all that shit. So, yes. If you can find the time to run the 5k, and childcare for Mollie, I say we do it.”
Her eyes lit up. “We?”
He laughed. “Oh, didn’t I mention? I’m going to struggle through this 5k as well. If you’re doing it, I might as well give it a shot and try something new.”
She squealed, tossing her arms around his neck. “Blake! This is going to be so fun! You’re going to like it. Even if you walk the whole thing.”
“Thank you for the early vote of confidence.”
She giggled into his shoulder. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just a nice activity, whether you walk or run.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, squeezing the tops of her hips. “Cover your tracks all you want, I know what you were trying to tell me.”
She shook her head, tenderness shining in her eyes as she looked up at him. “Blake, you are a very special man.”
And with the way she was looking at him, he was tempted to believe it. It wasn’t that he thought poorly of himself, but for some reason, when Michelle said it, it really meant something. She had a way of lifting him up, higher than even he could lift himself.
The truth was that he only wanted more of her.
And for however exciting it all was, it scared the shit out of him.
9
Saturday morning at seven, Blake was knocking on her door.
Michelle raced to answer it. She’d been waiting for a half hour already, jumpy with nerves and caffeine. It wasn’t that the 5k scared her. No, it was Blake.
He was proving himself left and right. Showing up as a thoughtful, well-rounded gentleman who was insanely gorgeous and who just happened to have more money than she’d probably ever seen in a bank account at one time. Really, Blake was everything that she’d ever dared to want and then some. He was everything she needed. Part of her was still scared that he was a little too perfect—that there was a flaw she was missing or overlooking, and that her trademark horrible taste would come back to bite her in the end. But another part of her—a part that was growing stronger every day—wanted to believe in him. In them. Which meant that she had a lot of decisions to make, and soon.
Blake’s smiling face behind her front door dissolved some of the nerves that had plagued her since waking up. She’d barely slept the night before from anxiety—waiting to see Blake again, eager to start the race, wondering what might happen next for the two of them—but now that he was here, his presence took the edge off of things.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Born ready.” She slung her waiting backpack over a shoulder and stepped out the front door.
“Where’s Mollie?”
“She’s spending the weekend at a friend’s house. She went yesterday.”
He arched a brow. “Which meant Mollie wasn’t here last night, and you had the house to yourself…?”
She laughed, pushing up onto her toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Yes. But don’t worry that you missed ou
t on anything. I dropped her off in Sonoma myself, and didn’t get home until midnight. I was so tired that I went straight to bed.”
He frowned. “Hm. Next time, let me know, and I’ll go with you. Hell, I’ll drive.”
Her cheeks already hurt from grinning so hard. This man was sent from heaven. “Deal. Now we better get a move on, or we’ll miss getting our packets.”
Blake led the way to his waiting SUV, her hand in his. “Packets?”
“Yeah, with our numbers and all that. I’ll show you how to do it all.”
“You know I’m going to have a twenty-minute mile, right?”
She giggled. “It’s okay. Nobody will judge you except God himself.”
“Very reassuring, Michelle.”
The two shared a warm smile as they hopped into the car, chatting easily on the drive to the park where the race started. The day was gorgeous, with crystal clear blue skies and tons of rolling green hills filled with trees and flowers and shrubs. The morning air was crisp and invigorating. This was what Michelle loved most about morning runs. The chance to start a brand-new day on the right foot.
Michelle acted as Blake’s guide through the registration process, and soon they were beaming at each other with their very own race numbers pinned to their chests and backs. Blake looked like a natural in his black running pants, skintight running shirt and trendy black running sneakers.
“You know, I’d have never guessed that you didn’t regularly run 5ks,” she said, nudging him in the side. “You look good in the number 3649.”
He smirked. “I just know how to fake it.”
“We’ll see about that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you can add ‘5k winner’ to your resume here soon.”
The heartbreaking grin that crossed his face made her heart beat a little faster. God, he was so easy to look at and get lost in. He’d willingly offered to be her 5k companion, which was an unheard-of offer when it came to her romantic partners. She’d never been with a man who shared the interest, and her ex had always criticized her desire to run and be in the fresh air. She’d always thought that if she could find someone willing to run a 5k with her, she’d die a happy woman.
Looks like that day has come.
The thought rang through her as she and Blake lined up for the start of the race. At the same time, while it was easy to get excited about Blake, she didn’t want to lose her head, either. After all, she’d been plenty excited about her ex in the beginning, and that had not ended well at all. It made her wonder if Blake might pull the same manipulative tricks down the road, the same bait and switch that her ex had, and slowly transform into a master manipulator and liar.
But damn, it was so hard to stay levelheaded when he did things like this. When he looked at her like he wanted to smother her with kisses midway through a sentence. When he showed up willingly at seven a.m. on a Saturday just to run a race he already was planning on losing.
The L-word floated dangerously close to her lips, but she wasn’t ready to think about that. Not when they still had so many other obstacles to overcome and elephants in the room. She had a lot of baggage to address. Blake deserved to know the truth about her history. About why Mollie’s father wasn’t in the picture anymore. What, exactly, Michelle had suffered with that gaslighting, emotionally abusive prick. Why she secretly expected the other shoe would drop when it came to Blake himself. Blake needed to know all of that before he decided if he wanted to move forward in a relationship with her.
And, of course, they still needed to have sex.
Which, if she had her way during her child-free weekend, would be happening as soon as possible.
Blake pinched her side, jostling her out of her thoughts. He waggled his eyebrows. “You ready to win?”
And there it was—the smile to wipe away all her doubts. All her tension.
The smile that might forever hold her heart captive.
Michelle finished the race with a seven-minute mile average. It was almost her personal best time, and she attributed a lot of her success to Blake’s unfailing support and confidence in her. She hung around the finish line, drinking water and keeping an eye out for Blake to run through. Finally, she spotted his red face. He was jogging slowly, but dammit, he was jogging. She clapped for him as he crossed the finish line, and his official time was recorded.
“You did it!”
“Oh, my God, I wanna die,” Blake groaned, receiving the water bottle she offered. He squirted at least half of it on his face, and then guzzled the rest. She guided him away from the finish line by the hand, beaming at him as they found a shady spot under a big oak tree.
“So what now?” Blake asked. “We’ve finished punishing ourselves through racing so now we continue on with our lives?”
She laughed. “Exactly. Some people start day drinking immediately, which I wouldn’t be opposed to.”
“That’s the winning idea right there.”
“How about we cool off with a lap around the park first?” Michelle asked.
His breathing had regulated somewhat, and he wiped at his face with the collar of his shirt. “Sure. Now that I can feel my legs again, I’m pretty sure I remember how to use them for something other than running.”
“You’re a 5k Drama King,” she teased.
“That’s going to be the new entry on my resume,” he said.
She laced her fingers through his as they started a slow, sometimes-limping walk along the asphalt path carving through the park. Other racers had chosen to do the same thing, or were camped out on blankets enjoying the cool morning air and the view of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. Blake suggested they sit on a bench after a little while, and he pulled her onto his lap as they sat down.
“I need to keep my lap warm,” he explained. “Post-race procedure.”
She giggled, welcoming the kiss he pressed to her lips. “I must have missed that info in my welcome packet.”
“It’s okay. But the penalty for ignoring the procedure is you get ten minutes added to your finish time,” he said, squeezing his arms around her waist. She laughed, more of her heart melting in the process.
This. Right here. This was what she’d always dreamed of. What she’d imagined for herself, when she thought of a loving boyfriend, a healthy relationship, the man of her dreams.
It was Blake. Simple as that.
“You’re such a good man,” she whispered, the smile falling from her face. “Do you know that?”
He shrugged, squinting out into the distance. “I feel pretty regular.”
“But you’re good. You’re one of the good ones.” She patted his chest. “I’ve had enough experience with the bad ones to know.”
He stiffened beneath her, his grip around her waist tightening. “Who do I need to beat up?”
She paused, weighing whether or not she should go there quite yet. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe the heaviness of her story would scare him away. But it was inevitable that the truth come out eventually, at any rate. Anyone getting to know her would know her past, as well. “Mollie’s father.”
His mouth went thin, his brown eyes darting back and forth across her face. “Was he one of the jerks?”
“The worst. She doesn’t see him anymore, hasn’t since she turned one. But he kept finding ways to nose back into my life and make trouble for me any way he could, even after the divorce was finalized and I was trying to move on. He’s the reason we left Florida and came here. He left his mark on us, that’s for sure. More on me than on her, thank god.”
His brows knit together, concern written across his features. “What did he do?”
“Just your run-of-the-mill emotional and verbal abuser,” Michelle said, trying to make light of memories and a situation that was anything but. It was the easiest way to move forward. In some ways, the past felt like a distant nightmare. One that she still couldn’t believe she’d managed to leave behind. She’d been so in love with her ex. She’d been so ready and willing for him to change. But it turned ou
t her ex had to want the change for himself for anything to happen. She couldn’t will it into existence.
Blake pressed his forehead to her shoulder. “Fuck, Michelle. Don’t tell me this. I want to hunt this man down now and beat some sense into him.”
“I won’t say anything else,” she started.
“No. That’s not what I meant.” Blake shook his head. “Tell me everything. As much as you want, at least. But if I feel tense, you know why.”
It was hard not to let his words warm her, all the way down to her bones. She hadn’t dared get serious or try anything with a man since her ex. Partly for logistical reasons—dating with a toddler was not the easiest—and partly out of fear. What if she chose wrong all over again? What if she found just a newer version of her ex?
What if she’d never find a good, trustworthy man?
The answer to that last question was easy enough. Oh well if she never found a trustworthy man. She’d cultivated a life that she was proud of. She had a beautiful, brilliant daughter, a cozy home, a great job, and she was happier than she’d ever dreamed possible. Sure, a good boyfriend would only make things better. But if she didn’t find him? So be it.
Except Blake was proving to be this man she didn’t need but still desperately wanted.
Michelle tentatively began the executive summary of her last relationship. The dreamy, exciting start at the end of college, to the long period of dating, all the way to the surprise pregnancy and quick courthouse marriage. But even when she’d been caught up in love and romance, the signs had been there from the start. Subtle at first, and becoming more apparent the longer they stayed together. The flashes of temper. The sullen, grating jealousy. The way he’d pick a fight and then frame it to be her fault, leaving her always feeling like she needed to earn his forgiveness. The few times he crossed a line, never actually harming her but still breaking things or yelling threats. The way he’d try to buy forgiveness with expensive presents and then act as if that meant the issue was fully resolved. She’d made excuses for him, attributing it all to a million different things—family stress, school stress, job stress. Eventually, she’d been forced to realize that it was just him. That it wasn’t going to change—and that she needed to get out of there before she tried to raise a baby in that toxic environment.
