by Amy Knupp
A sound came out of him, a cross between a laugh and a scoff. “North brothers are not the marrying type,” he said. “Well, except for our black sheep, Cole. He got engaged just last night, right before I picked you up. So you might hit him up. He’s only recently accepted his share of money from the family business, though, so something extravagant might be a hard sell.”
“I love a challenge. How can you be sure your brothers aren’t the marrying type, especially if one of them just went down?”
“Put it this way,” Drake said. “I can’t remember the last time any of them had more than a handful of dates with one person, let alone a girlfriend.”
“Yourself included?”
“Myself especially.” Drake loved women, loved flirting with them, talking to them, sleeping with them, but actual long-term relationships? Not his thing.
“It’s almost like you’re daring the universe. Tempting fate,” she said with a smirk. She popped the last bit of her pastry into her mouth, chewed and swallowed it, then washed it down with steaming java from her Carlotta’s cup. “So tell me about your personal training,” she said out of nowhere.
He wondered if she was considering joining the gym he worked at and working out with him. Out of habit, he eyed her surreptitiously, trying to size up her physical strengths and weaknesses. Of course, you couldn’t tell the whole story from looking, but Mackenzie didn’t appear to have an ounce of fat on her body. She didn’t need to lose weight, but that said nothing of her muscle strength or overall fitness. He suspected, for starters, she had a hard-core sugar habit.
He hopped off the stool and busied himself sweeping the crumbs from the counter. “What do you want to know?”
“The basics. Do you only do it at the gym or do you have clients outside of it?”
“Only at the gym,” he said, opening the freezer and searching for something to thaw for dinner.
“Have you ever thought of expanding? Going out on your own? Meeting clients in their home?”
“No,” he said without hesitation as he took out a package of grass-fed sirloin and set it on the counter. Oh, he’d considered it for about twenty seconds when he was getting ready to graduate, and only because one of his buddies in the sequence was doing it, but just getting set up for it was a lot of work and details. If you were going to go to that trouble, you needed to stick to it for a long time to make it worthwhile. Just like with women, Drake made a conscious effort to avoid long-term job commitments. Because, from what he’d seen, as soon as you got comfortable, something could come along and change everything in a heartbeat, take everything away. He wasn’t a fan of that kind of loss, to put it mildly, and in fact did everything he could to avoid it.
“Ellie Grant is looking to hire a trainer to come to her house. I told her I might know someone.”
There was a millisecond when Drake’s interest was piqued. The thought of working with someone high-profile like Ellie Grant… Intriguing. But not practical.
“I’ve got plenty to keep me busy between North Brothers and the gym,” he said, a note of regret in his voice. “Besides, I’m not set up to do that.”
“You could get set up.”
“I could,” he repeated. “But there’s zero chance of it. Sorry, Shawlet.”
Mackenzie looked pensive and semi-defeated for a moment, then she straightened again. “Do you work today?” she asked.
“I’ve got a shift at the gym. Four p.m.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Eight to two. And before you ask, I’ve got the early-morning shift at the gym Saturday, and I’ll be at North Brothers both Saturday and Sunday all day.”
“Could you meet Ellie tomorrow afternoon?”
Drake laughed as he picked up the empty pastry bag and threw it in the trash can under the sink. “I can see why you’re good at your job.”
“It’s just that she’s unsure, needs some help outfitting her gym, but she doesn’t want to buy a bunch of equipment she doesn’t know how to use or won’t like. She’s never had a personal trainer, wants to set up the gym at her home—and by home I mean estate, compound, mansion, that kind of thing—and has the money but not the know-how. It seems like you have the knowledge she needs—”
“I do,” Drake said with zero lack of confidence. “But I can’t just wake up one morning and decide to branch out on my own. There’s a lot to get into place. Liability insurance, pricing, policies, contracts…” Just the thought made him itchy.
Mackenzie nodded slowly, her lips pursed as she seemed to be lost in thought again. “I understand. Could you maybe just meet with her and hear her out about what she’s looking for, then give her some input on what to buy and who she could call?” She was leaning her elbows on the island, her chin propped up on one fist as she implored him with those pretty brown eyes that sparkled with so much life and persuasion. And then she issued the clincher. “Please? For me?”
Drake studied her across the island, his palms flat on the countertop, as his internal arguments ceased and he was sucked in by that sparkle. “Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll meet with her one time. Only to advise. For you.”
It was becoming obvious that Ezra’s little sister was damn hard to resist, and if her apartment wasn’t ready soon, Drake could very easily find himself in hot water.
Chapter Five
There was a certain level of confidence in a man, one that didn’t verge too far toward unjustified cockiness, that was sexy and alluring. Drake had that in spades, Mackenzie thought as she watched him talk to Ellie Grant as if he’d known her for half his life. He had his “charm” setting on high, seemingly naturally, but his “flirt” button was off and he was all business and enthusiasm.
The powerhouse country singer was five feet and one inch of charisma, bluntness, and determination. Mackenzie had been able to tell within thirty seconds of meeting her yesterday that she funneled every last bit of her sixty-one inches into everything she did, and that, no doubt, was part of the reason she was an entertainment giant. At the same time, she had a warmth and genuineness about her that made Mackenzie think, if they were in a different situation, they could become close friends.
She and Drake had arrived nearly an hour ago at Ellie’s estate, checking in with the gatekeeper at the end of the long, winding driveway and then being greeted by Ellie herself at the house. Ellie had asked him to sign a confidentiality agreement, as Mackenzie had done the day before, and made it seem as normal as taking their shoes off at the door, which they hadn’t done, because they were meeting on a sprawling heated patio next to the pool.
They’d spent the first fifteen minutes with Mackenzie going over a folder of five exotic honeymoon locations—Bali, Bora Bora, Seychelles, Fiji, and Sri Lanka—just a general overview of each, along with bits of feedback from her previous clients, so that Ellie and Thomas could look them over and point her in a direction, whether they chose one of these locales or not. Ellie had bubbled over with enthusiasm and promised to talk to her fiancé as soon as possible.
Since then, Mackenzie had sat back and let Drake do his thing, and he did his thing well. She would never guess this was his first time. There was no question he knew what he was talking about. He was well-versed in the topic of home gyms and fitness goals and motivation and even safety, and though it was easy to forget because of his carefree party-guy persona, it was obvious he was an intelligent man.
“Come with me,” Ellie said, standing. “I’ll show you the space I have in mind for the gym.”
Drake had been jotting notes on his phone for the past half hour as Ellie answered his questions about what exercise programs she’d done in the past, what she liked and disliked, what her goals were, and what her fiancé would consider important as well. Now he stood and slid his phone into his pocket and waited for Mackenzie as she also rose, banging her hip into the table in the process. He held a hand out toward her and she wondered if he was going to touch her waist or her back again, like he had two nights ago at the a
irport. He didn’t quite come into contact with her body, though, as she walked in front of him as directed, and it hit her that she wanted to feel the pressure and heat of his hand on her. Wanted it more than a little.
“The pool house might not be the most conventional place, but we currently get no use out of it,” Ellie said, leading them toward the structure on the other side of the pool that looked like a mini southern estate in and of itself, with tall columns in front, one wall full of windowed doors, and even a hexagonal cupola on top.
“This is incredible,” Mackenzie said as soon as she entered, ahead of Drake. It appeared to be one large room centered in the building and a couple of small rooms off to the sides. The ceiling was high, with vaults and arches and the underside of the cupola stretching above them. There were two seating clusters of thick-cushioned sofas and armchairs as well as a game table for four, with leather captain’s chairs surrounding it and a chess board on top.
“We never use it,” Ellie said. “It’s a cryin’ shame. Which is why I want to turn it into the workout room.”
Mackenzie turned toward Drake and saw the moment when he took in the space and the possibilities. His face lit up, eyes sparked, brows rose, and he said, simply, “Oh, yeah.”
“You think it could work?” Ellie asked hopefully.
“This could be a dream of a gym for both you and Thomas.” He wandered to the far wall, sizing up the space, his brow furrowing as if he was imagining what would fit where. “What are the other rooms?”
Ellie showed them each side, one a kitchen area and the other a roomy bath and shower room. “We could knock down walls if we need to—”
“No need,” he said. “The bath can be a changing room, with enough space to add a hot tub. The kitchen space is good for storing cold drinks, but you could reconfigure this space,” he said, gesturing to one end of the long, narrow room, “to a sauna.”
“Ooh, I love that idea.” Ellie clasped her hands together. “And you think this main area is big enough for the actual workin’-out space?”
Drake sprang into animated action, outlining with his hands different sections of the main room where he would create stations—one for cardio equipment, one for Thomas’s weight machines, one for yoga and stretching, and one for free weights, exercise balls, and whatever other handheld equipment they ended up buying. Before Ellie could get a word in edgewise, Drake was swiping his phone and jotting down ideas as he talked an enthusiastic mile a minute. Mackenzie stopped listening to details at the mention of stationary bikes and air rowers and other torture machines and instead homed her attention in on his body language.
He loved this. And she loved watching him so deeply into it.
It was another half hour later when they emerged from the pool house, having delved into details about what, exactly, would serve Ellie and Thomas’s purposes best. Mackenzie was on the fringes of all of it and totally fine with that, as the scenery was more than pleasant. She thrived on helping people solve problems, from the best way to get to a private island in the Galapagos to how to find an expert on fitness when you wanted to get fit but couldn’t work out in public because of the stir it might cause, but she could easily admit this was not her area of interest or expertise.
It was clear Drake and Ellie had hit it off, and Mackenzie couldn’t understand his hesitation to become Ellie’s trainer. Sure, he’d explained the practical obstacles that would have to be overcome to go into business for himself, but none of it would be difficult if he really wanted to do it. And judging by his engagement, part of him really wanted to do it, at least on some level. Something was holding him back.
“You’re really good at this,” Ellie was saying as they paused next to the outdoor table they’d previously sat at. “You figured out exactly what we need. So my question is, how can I convince you to help me with the actual purchasing? Thomas might know more than me, but he’s in New York for the next week for appearances. How do I know where to buy this stuff? Which brands and models to get? Lord, I don’t have a clue about any of it. So what do you say, Drake? Help a girl out?”
“It’s hard to say no to a beautiful lady,” he said, his flirtatious nature finally popping up. “For you, I’d be happy to help select the right pieces and get them ordered. Let me do some research and I’ll get the specifics together for you. We can meet again and figure out the logistics. Then I can hook you up with a trainer who can work with you in your new home gym. How’s that sound?”
“God yes. Thank you, Drake. I can’t wait to do this.”
“The shopping or the working out?” Mackenzie asked, and Ellie laughed as Drake looked momentarily confused and then cracked a grin as he shook his head.
“Both, of course,” Ellie said with a wink.
As the three of them said goodbye, Ellie pulled Mackenzie into a hug and told her she and Thomas would check out the honeymoon options as soon as he got back in town—or maybe sooner if he could find the time. Mackenzie reveled in the gesture, loved that she’d connected with Ellie, relished the dynamic woman’s acceptance and trust. Whether hooking her up with Drake had helped with that, Mackenzie didn’t know and didn’t care. She was more intrigued by the things she’d learned about her brother’s best friend today—and the things she still wanted to figure out.
Chapter Six
The more Drake updated Ezra on his sister, the better Drake would remember why he couldn’t suggest he and Mackenzie blow off the slumber party ban and the separate bedrooms and cozy up together in his bed.
Or that’s what he hoped anyway.
As he and Mackenzie walked up the front path to his mom’s home Sunday evening, where Drake and his brothers had grown up, he typed a message to let Ez know he was introducing her to his family so that she could start networking and broadening her social and business circles. He closed the app without receiving a response, belatedly calculating that it was fifteen hours later in Sydney, so the start of the business week for Ezra. It didn’t matter. The point of the message was not to start a conversation.
It’s your guilty conscience, you jerk-off.
He’d spent several hours today working side by side with Mackenzie at the kitchen bar in his apartment, each with their laptop and their own objectives. She’d been corresponding with someone in Cambodia regarding the upcoming honeymoon of one of her LA clients, trying to get a guarantee that the resort in Siem Reap did, indeed, have a place where the groom’s favorite sushi chef could work. The sum of money the guy was paying to bring in not only food but an outside chef was astronomical and seemed like a waste to Drake, but he was learning, from hearing about some of Mackenzie’s diva clients, that he knew very little about acting like a spoiled, entitled, self-important pain in the ass. His words, not Mackenzie’s.
He had been working on Ellie’s gym equipment list, scouring the internet for good deals on the pieces he wanted, and coming up frustrated. The weekly dinner date with his family had come at the right time, because he’d needed a break.
When they got to the front door, Drake opened it for Mackenzie and let her enter before him. The normal racket of the North family met their ears, and when she turned her brown eyes up to him, he guided her through the entry hall toward the open living-dining-kitchen area, where the scene was chaos as usual.
“The end is near,” Gabe, the second oldest and usually the family peacemaker, called out good-naturedly as Drake and Mackenzie turned the corner past the central stairs and the group came into view. Gabe was in the kitchen with their mom and made a point to pivot around and look at the clock on the microwave. “For the first time in history, you’re not late.”
“We’re early,” Drake said smugly, sharing a look with Mackenzie, who had convinced him, they’d call it, to put his work away and get into the shower—alone, sadly—so that they wouldn’t be late for her first time meeting his family.
“A whole two minutes,” Mason, the oldest North brother, clarified from his position at the breakfast bar, where he was serving adult
beverages and steeping their mom’s tea.
“Two minutes is two minutes.” Drake put his hand at Mackenzie’s waist as they approached the dining table. “Everyone, this is Ezra’s little sister, Mackenzie,” Drake said. He gestured toward his mom, who fluttered, a little more slowly than her pre-heart-attack version, between the refrigerator and the counter and the sink. “That’s our mom, Faye. Gabe is the smart aleck at the meat plate, Mason’s the bartender, this is Cole and his fiancée, Sierra Lowell. Next to Sierra is Gabe’s best friend, Lexie, who’s practically earned sister status us with us.”
Mackenzie nodded, pushing a thick lock of her hair off her cheek as she skimmed her gaze over each person and said a blanket, “It’s nice to meet you all.”
His mom came over to them, her hands extended in welcome. “Hello, Mackenzie. We’ve heard all about you over the years. It’s so nice to finally have you in our home.” She pulled Mackenzie into a hug, and he noticed Mackenzie closing her eyes, as if she cherished the gesture.
“Thanks, Mrs. North,” Mackenzie said as they pulled apart.
“Call me Faye,” his mom corrected. “Come on in. Tell us all about you. Drake said you’re just moving back to town?”
Drake pulled out the kitchen chair across the table from Sierra as his mom went back around the counter to continue with dinner prep. He watched his mom, as they all did now, to make sure she wasn’t overdoing it and to discern whether she was hiding fatigue or anything worse. Since her heart attack a few months ago, she claimed her boys hovered over her, and that was probably accurate.
“I’ve been back from LA for less than a week,” Mackenzie said without sitting. “And thank you for agreeing to store my belongings in your garage.”
“Think nothing of it,” Faye said with a wave. “I’m more than happy to share the space. I normally just ramble around in this big place until it echoes.”
