by Tia Souders
After ten minutes, the vein in Emmett’s forehead bulged. And, if the little muscle in his jaw was any indication, she’d succeeded in annoying him.
She smiled, vindicated.
From the other side of the room, she heard Gabe ask Taylor, “What in the world is that blasted noise?”
CHAPTER seven
Jinny
Jinny grinned and snuggled into the plush leather chair, letting the supple upholstery cocoon her. It was her favorite piece of furniture in the apartment. She and Callie had bought it at a thrift shop their sophomore year in college. It had been their first purchase for their first apartment upon leaving the dorms. It held good memories. When Callie married Dean and moved into his place, she’d have to fight her for it.
Jinny put the finishing touches on the roster for the annual Kimball Family Olympics. This year, the coveted Kimball trophy was hers. All hers. Dean was going down.
She rubbed her hands together and chuckled to herself with glee.
Every year for the Fourth of July, the Kimball’s hosted a barbeque for family and only the closest of friends. While the old geezers grilled and smoked an assortment of meats and set out the potluck dishes on a huge table, only the fiercest competitors prepared to compete in the games.
From sack racing to bobbing for apples to the Tic-Tac challenge, no one knew what the day’s actual list of events would be. No one except her mother, who had taken the role of randomly choosing that year’s races. The secrecy kept anyone from gaining an advantage by prepping ahead of time. Usually, she and Dean tried to bribe her mom a month before, but she was like a Navy SEAL. She’d never crack.
Regardless, Jinny had been sneaking in some extra exercise at work, focusing on her flexibility, dexterity, and hand-eye coordination—all necessary attributes for competing.
Each year, every contestant vied for the same thing: first dibs on food at the buffet and, most importantly, the title of Kimball Ninja Warrior and the family trophy. To date, none of the non-Kimball contestants had ever won the title. Before Dean and Jinny had been old enough to compete, their father often won, followed closely by their Uncle Sal. But for the last ten years, Jinny and Dean had dominated, with Dean on a winning streak. Three years in a row, he’d claimed the title. Last year was due to a technicality. But not this year. If she had anything to do with it, his winning streak was over. This was the year of Jinny.
She smiled to herself. It had a nice ring to it. The year of Jinny.
She stretched like a cat, curling her legs underneath her as she balanced her laptop. She took a bite of her chocolate chip muffin, then reached beside her to the end table and gripped her steaming cup of coffee, completely content in the moment. It was Sunday, which meant no work and, most importantly, no Emmett. Pastries for breakfast, a cup of her favorite Kona brew, and a little pre-planning for her Fourth of July attack. Life was good.
Callie padded out of her bedroom and did a double-take when she saw Jinny. “You’re up early.” Her eyes slid over the laptop, and she must’ve noted the vicious gleam in Jinny’s eye because she smirked and said, “You’re prepping for the Olympics, aren’t you?”
“What gave me away?”
“The fact that it’s the weekend and you’re up before nine a.m. Plus, the smiling was a dead giveaway.”
Jinny pumped a fist in the air. “Just practicing a little positive visualization for when I smoke your fiancé in the sack race this year. I might work on my acceptance speech now.” She tapped her chin. “I think I’ll start it with, bow down lowly subjects and make way for the rightful victor,” she said with a flourish of her arm.
Callie laughed. “You are so unhinged. I’ve never won that stupid thing, and I’m just fine.”
“That’s pathetic. I wouldn’t be bragging about that if I were you.”
“Don’t you think you guys get a little too into it?”
Jinny blinked at her like she was stupid.
“Just last night Dean was talking about some new technique he came up with for Junk in the Ba-Dunk-a-Dunk,” Callie said.
Jinny’s eyes widened. “He was, was he?” She hummed and narrowed her eyes, deep in thought. This was the kind of intel she needed. “What does he have up his sleeve?”
“He swore me to secrecy.”
“You’re the worst best friend ever,” Jinny muttered.
Callie smacked a palm to her forehead. “You two of you are hopeless. It’s a miracle I love both of you.”
“But me more than him. Am I right?” Jinny angled her body toward Callie, assessing her. “Your problem is you’re an underachiever when it comes to physical competition.”
At Callie’s icy glare, Jinny corrected. “What I mean is, you don’t have the Kimball drive to win like Dean and I do. It’s been ingrained generation after generation. Winning is the only word in our vocabulary. It’s the only thing that matters to us. But, you… You weren’t raised by wolves like we were.”
Callie poured herself a cup of coffee. “Funny. I don’t remember your mother being this competitive.”
“She hides it behind her impressive cooking and sweet smile. But there was a time when she was a real ball buster.”
Callie grinned and took a sip of her coffee. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
“I do.” Jinny smiled sweetly and set her laptop aside.
Callie made her way into the living room and took a seat on the couch. “So, how’s it going with Emmett? Any progress on making him hate PT life?”
Jinny pursed her lips, mulling over her question. “He’s definitely hating me more. Dangling the not-so-proverbial pastries under his nose and yanking them away is really getting to him. And I think he hates the way everybody calls me Miss J and seems so friendly with me.” Jinny smirked. “Most of all, I think he is starting to resent Gabe.”
“Gabe? You mean, Gabriel Swanson?”
Jinny nodded.
“Why’s that?”
“He may or may not have been flirting with me at work the other day. And he asked me out. Right in front of Emmett.”
Callie’s expression brightened. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
“It is, isn’t it? I could tell Emmett hated it. It was really eating at his craw. Normally, I would despise such blatant flirtation from a coworker, but he seems nice enough. And Emmett’s irritation somehow makes Gabe’s California-good-looks even more appealing.”
“Nooo,” Callie said. Her voice held an edge of irritation. “I meant it was perfect for you that Gabe is into you.”
Jinny scrunched her nose. “Why?”
“Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off for real. It’s about time you seriously dated someone.”
Callie smiled at Jinny over the rim of her mug, and Jinny didn’t like the dreamy look on her face.
It was no secret Callie had hated Jinny’s last couple of boyfriends. It reminded her of the conversation she had with Emmett about her dating nothing but losers, and she felt her hackles rise before she could stop them.
“Why do I need a serious boyfriend? The last thing I need is a man. I landed my dream job, and pretty soon the Kimball trophy will be in a place of honor in my home”—Jinny motioned toward the shelf across the room, which was empty in preparation for her epic win—"What else could I need?”
Callie groaned. “Oh, my gosh. You’re going to put that ugly thing there? Everyone will see it when they walk in the front door.”
“Exactly.” Jinny beamed, despite Callie’s wide-eyed mortification.
“Anyway, my point is, you could at least bring him as your date to my wedding.”
“Hmm. Maybe.” It might not be a bad idea, considering half the people in attendance would be from the team.
Callie and Dean had opted for an intimate venue since Callie’s parents were killed in a car crash seven years ago and she had almost no family. Seeing as how Gabe was familiar with half the guest list, he’d fit right in.
“Just think about it,” Callie said, then paused.
&n
bsp; Without warning, she scooched closer to Jinny and reached out to take Jinny’s hand into her own as moisture filled her eyes. For a second, Jinny stiffened—until she noted Callie’s smile and the pink glow to her cheeks.
“Will you be my maid of honor?” Callie asked.
Jinny grinned and smacked Callie on the arm. “Of course, you dummy. Like I thought you’d choose anyone else. I’m the best option. Obviously.” She rolled her eyes and Callie laughed.
“This should be some wedding,” Callie said.
∞∞∞
Jinny removed the electrodes from Emmett’s legs, a little rougher than necessary, yanking out several hairs in the process.
“Ouch.” He rubbed the four angry-red circles forming on the skin over his muscular thigh.
“Oh, sorry. Did I take them off too quick?” She blinked up at him innocently.
He smirked. “That’s okay. Now it’s time for the best part of my day.”
Jinny groaned. “One man’s pleasure is another woman’s pain,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Giving Emmett manual therapy had to be the worst part of her job. Still, if she had to do it, she’d make it the most amazing leg rub of his life. Make him leave wanting more, so nothing the rest of his adult life could ever compare to the time when he was gifted a massage from Jinny Kimball.
Emmett scoffed, breaking through her thoughts. “Please, like this isn’t the best part of your day. So many women would pay to be in your position—would kill for it. What lady wouldn’t die for the opportunity to put their hands on NBA super-star Emmett Halls’ game-winning muscles?”
“Hold on.” Jinny held up a hand and fake gagged. “I think I might have just puked a little.” Then she headed to the counter where she kept her special blend of essential oils and almond oil for massage.
“What must it be like, being so full of yourself that you have actual bullcrap seeping from your eyes?” she asked.
Emmett shrugged. “Just being honest.”
She returned to his side and eyed his leg with resentment. It was impressive. If you liked muscles.
“The question is how many women before me have actually touched your leg. I’m willing to bet the number is monumental. I should probably have my gloves out for this.”
Emmett chuckled. “I noticed you haven’t been wearing them this week.”
Jinny gave the bottle of oil an angry shake and squirted some onto his leg. Then she began to rub the muscles of his quad in the answering silence.
Where the heck was Gabe?
She’d asked him to stop by ten minutes ago. Just like she had done all the other times. Three massages under her belt and she had yet to be in the room alone with Emmett for any of them. She could only imagine the snide remarks he’d make if she didn’t have a buffer. It had absolutely nothing to do with needing a distraction from the way her skin burned as she worked. Or how her stomach squeezed when he leaned back on the table, causing the hard lines of his washboard abs to strain against his t-shirt. Gross.
She pressed her fingertips into his quads and applied steady pressure as she drug her hands down the length of his muscle toward the knee, then back again.
More unnerving than the scent of cedarwood, or whatever heavenly—er, ghastly—cologne he wore, was his gaze. It burned straight into the side of her face as she worked.
She tried to ignore it. Really, she did. But in a moment of weakness, she glanced up and caught his eye. Something dark and dangerous flickered through the hazel and honey. Flushing, she looked away. Clearly, he had some kind of voodoo going on. Well, she, for one, would not fall victim. She was not another one of his bimbos. She was Jinny Kimball, sports certified specialist and physical therapist for the Pittsburgh Pumas. She was a professional. And she was not thinking about his chiseled jaw or his pouty lips.
Before she could register what was happening, Emmett leaned up and gripped her wrist. She froze. Her heart threatened to pound from her chest.
When she heard the knock on the door, she jumped, and he released her.
She said a prayer of thanks to all that was holy as she hollered for him to come in, and Gabe stepped inside.
“Hey, you wanted to—”
“Yeah. Uh…er…I…” Jinny trailed off.
Dang it. With all her scheming, and all her rubbing Emmett’s sinewy muscles, she forgot what excuse she was supposed to use.
“I just wanted to see if you were free for coffee later.”
Gabe’s face lit up. His blue eyes were the exact opposite of Emmett’s warm amber. It was like looking at a bleak sky versus staring into the blazing sun. With one, you got burned.
She wiped the thought away and smiled as Gabe took another step closer.
“Yeah, I have an appointment in five minutes, but come see me after. I should have time then.”
Jinny nodded. Great. Thus far, she had avoided making any overt gestures to imply her interest in Gabe. Until now. Smooth move, Miss J.
Gabe placed his hands on his hips and smiled, but Jinny no longer cared about her impending coffee date—was it a date?—because all that mattered was that Gabe wasn’t leaving yet.
She refused to meet Emmett’s eye. Instead, she kept massaging, her gaze vacillating between her hands and Gabe, despite Emmett’s gaze burning a hole right through her.
“Actually, I was going to ask if you were free this weekend. A friend of mine has a boat and was going to take it out on Saturday,” Gabe said.
“Oh, gosh. I’d love to,” she lied. “But my family has this thing every year. It’s kind of like a Fourth of July celebration and family reunion all in one. But there are games and stuff. It’s kind of a big deal, actually.”
She smiled, grateful for the excuse. Thank you, Kimball Olympics.
Gabe’s smile fell, but she gave him credit; he only faltered for a minute before the glistening hope returned to his eye. “Rain check?”
She ran her fingers down the front of Emmett’s calf, then back up the length of his leg, trying to think of the proper response when Emmett moaned. Like, a deep-in-your-gut ecstasy moan.
Her head whipped in his direction, as did Gabe’s. And she swore she saw a flash of a smile on Emmett’s face before it vanished and he continued his groaning and moaning.
What the—
She glanced over at Gabe, at a loss for words, slightly horrified.
Gabe swallowed, then loosened the collar of his dress shirt. “What do you put in that stuff?” He nodded toward her homemade oils.
Jinny blinked over at the bottle. “Just some peppermint, eucalyptus, frankincense, and—”
Emmett mewed.
All she could do was turn and stare as the noise escaped his parted lips.
She bit the inside of her cheek, stifling a laugh. She was two seconds away from losing it when Gabe exhaled and backed slowly out the door.
Once he’d disappeared down the hall, Jinny removed her hands from Emmett’s leg and forced a scowl. “Very funny.”
She moved to the counter and grabbed a paper towel to wipe the oil from her hands.
“What?” Emmett blinked innocently.
“You know what.”
With a smug smile, he straightened. “If I promise to behave, will you continue?”
“No. I think you’ve had all you can handle.” Jinny grabbed his chart and made a couple notes.
“So, is this how the next six to nine months are going to be, then?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Jinny put the file down and stared at him.
“At massage time, you’re going to call him in here?”
“I did no such thing.”
Emmett arched a brow at her.
“I wanted coffee,” she muttered.
“Sure, you did.”
Jinny lifted her chin in defiance.
“Oh, come on. You want coffee with him like you want an enema. I can see it all over your face. Soul surfer might be into you, but he is the last thing you wa
nt. He’s just too blind to see it. Poor guy. It’s sad, really.”
Jinny pursed her lips, keeping her mouth shut as she burned him with her gaze. But stern gazes were hard to hold when his dimples winked at her behind a radiant smile. Invisible fingers drew her toward him. One wrong move and she might crack.
“Admit it,” he insisted.
“Are you this annoyingly persistent with everything in your life?”
“Is there any other way to be? Persistence is for winners. The opposite of persistence is quitting, and I’m no loser, Jinny.” He cocked his head. “So, what’ll it be? Are you going to admit I’m right?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze unwavering in their silent game of chicken. Only, she hadn’t accounted for how good he was at a standoff. His expression turned to stone. He didn’t even so much as move his chest to breathe. She wouldn’t be surprised if, under his ribs, his heart stopped beating just to win this game. He was inhuman, a freak of nature.
After a moment of silence, she threw her hands up. He would never let it drop until she admitted it. “Fine! You’re right. I didn’t want coffee. I just didn’t want to be alone in the room with you. Not because I’m attracted to you, of course. It’s more like I need a witness to protect me from false accusations of harassment in the workplace.”
She sagged under his triumphant gaze. “Happy?”
Emmett chuckled. “Very.”
CHAPTER eight
Emmett
The Pittsburgh Pirates entered the bottom of the ninth. It was a beautiful day. Blue skies above and sunny, temperate weather. The city lay beyond the stadium, a backdrop to the pandemonium inside as the Pirates made a comeback to tie the score.
It was a good game, but Emmett found it nearly impossible to focus. He had yet to broach the subject of the Fourth of July weekend, despite that being the reason he bought the special VIP seats and invited Dean along.
