His terms were very generous. I got what I asked for and a mentor thrown into the bargain. You can judge a man by his friends. I was already impressed with at least one of Cam’s. Two if you counted Ashley. And by impressed, I meant on a personal level, not on wealth. Yes, I was grateful to be the beneficiary of Lazer’s wealth, but that wasn’t what I liked most about him.
He wrote me a check on the spot and coached me on how to approach and negotiate with the landlord and property management company. “Don’t let them intimidate you. Hold your ground. Let them know who they’re dealing with. Send me a copy of your lease agreement. I’ll have my lawyers look it over.”
I told him my agent’s lawyers had already taken a look.
“My lawyers are better. I have the best in the city. If there’s nothing there? Fine. But let’s let them have a look. And let’s set up a follow-up meeting to talk growth strategy.” He gave me his office assistant’s number and told me to contact her on Monday to schedule our next meeting.
I left our meeting ecstatic and raced home to change into gym clothes. Before I left for my date, I called my real estate agent and gave him Lazer’s instructions on how to make our next offer. Then I punched the air in victory and headed to the gym to meet Cam.
*
Cam
Between breakfast and my workout date, I met with some of the high school kids I was mentoring, trying to keep my mind off how the meeting between Lazer and Toria was going. I usually met the kids at one of the high school computer labs or a library, anywhere we could find space. But since today was Saturday and the libraries were booked, I took the group out for lunch and brainstormed the equipment they wanted for the new space.
The kids were full of questions. Especially the newest kid, Miles. He’d come out of his shell since joining. He was a kid who was going to go far if he was mentored and encouraged properly. All the kids wanted to know when we’d have a lab set up for them to start incubating. They were smart, and cute throwing around their tech language like the big guys. But I didn’t let their eager cuteness snow me. They were sharp, too. And if they decided to turn their skills to the dark side, they could cause a fair amount of trouble, and get into it themselves.
I told them I was working on it, that I had a line on a fine suite of space in the heart of the high-tech industry downtown. I was just hammering out the final details. I felt confident in what I told them. I was feeling good all around.
I was at the gym, early, getting ready for my date with Toria, when Dave called, and he didn’t sound happy. As we talked, I made my way from the locker room to the lobby to wait for Toria.
“The tenant is playing hardball. She has the landlord and the property management company suddenly rattled. It’s like she’s grown a pair overnight. She upped her offer again, and whatever she said, she has them backtracking on their desire to lease to us. What do you want to do? How badly do you want the space? We can keep looking.”
I swore beneath my breath. I didn’t like losing. If this tenant was going to play the bitch and try to ace me out of that prime space, she’d better think twice.
I discussed options with Dave, including whether there was anything else even remotely suitable on the market.
“Not right now, Cam,” he said. “This is our best bet for what you want. Even for what you don’t want. Vacancy rates are way down. There’s nothing else available right now in the area you specified.” He tried to sell me on mall space in the suburbs again.
I refused. Much as I hated to admit it, negotiating and playing hardball was out of my area of expertise. I was a tech guy, not a business genius. I hated this kind of game playing. It was time to call in the big gun for advice. We got Lazer in on the conversation.
He agreed with me. “If this spot is as good as you say, you’d be a fool to give up so easily. You’re going to run into this kind of competition with any decent space. You need to get them to take you seriously.”
With his help, we laid out a counterstrategy. All the while, I was dying to know whether Lazer had given Toria the money she needed. He had too much ethical sense to tell me. But he could hint. He sounded in good spirits and pleased with himself. From which I inferred things had gone well. Lazer was hardly ever happier than when he’d made a good investment.
We gave Dave a detailed battle plan, complete with exact wording to use in his discussions. He hung up to go do our bidding.
I’d been pacing the lobby, full of energy and nervous anticipation. I took a seat. With Dave off the call, I couldn’t resist asking Lazer the question that was on my mind. “Are you going to tell me how it went with Toria or leave me hanging?”
“The thought of you hanging isn’t pretty, my friend. Even so, you know I can’t share the contents of a private business conversation.” He laughed. “I can say that I was impressed with her personally. She’s beautiful, smart, funny. You have good taste.”
“Ashley picked her out,” I said. “She has good taste for me. But I told you all that about Toria. You didn’t believe me? Stop trying to flatter me and divert my attention. You don’t have to give me details. A simple yeah, it went great or alternately a long, pregnant pause of hesitation will do to send the message. Are you going to give me a hint?”
“Absolutely not. What would be the fun in that?” He sounded jovial enough. That was enough of a hint in itself.
Just then, Toria walked past outside on the sidewalk in front of the windows of the gym, heading for the entrance.
“Never mind.” My heart raced. “I’ll find out soon enough. She’s here.”
“Good luck, my man.” Lazer hung up just as Toria strolled in the door. I slipped my phone into my shorts.
Her face lit up when she spotted me. Even with a ponytail—called that one right—she was as beautiful as I remembered her being from last night. The austerity of the ponytail let her striking eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips take center stage. The caipirinhas hadn’t distorted my vision. And maybe I was part Brazilian, too. Her tight exercise pants emphasized her pert, shapely butt, threatening to turn me into a butt man, like a true Brazilian.
“Cam!” She waved.
I stood and hugged her, wishing I could hold her closer for longer. We chatted about inconsequential things as I signed her in as a guest. I was dying as I waited for an opportunity to ask about her meeting with Lazer, then wondered whether I was even supposed to know about it.
She looked around at the gym with wide eyes. “This place is amazing.”
It was the nicest gym in the city—high tech, modern in design, the most up-to-date equipment, and a smoothie bar and café that was unrivaled.
“And so are you!” She touched my arm. “I had a meeting with Lazer Grayson this morning. He’s going to back me! And mentor me.” She hugged me again just as Stryker walked out wearing tight exercise pants and a tank top that showed off his perfect triangle build.
Yeah. Lazer was probably right. Next to Stryker, almost any guy, even a guy in reasonably good shape like I was, was going to look scrawny. And here I’d chosen to wear my modest exercise shorts.
He spotted me. “Cam!”
“Stryker. This is my guest today.” I introduced him to Toria, relieved that her eyes weren’t popping out of her head at the sight of him and his bulging biceps.
“What are we doing today?” Stryker’s gaze bounced between us. He pointed at me and shook his finger. “I know what you need.” He laughed and turned to Toria. “What is it you want to accomplish today—strength training, cardio, a bit of both?”
“Both sounds good to me.” She patted her abs. “I need to work off that same dinner from last night. I believe I out-ate Cam.” She winked at me.
“In that case, I’ll bust both your asses,” Stryker said. “What’s your preference? Do you like kickboxing?”
Toria nodded. “Love it.”
“All right, then. We’ll start with cardio in our private workout room and move to the main gym for strength training. We’ll take it a
s we go.”
I looked at Toria and sighed. “He means his private room of torture.”
Stryker laughed and led the way.
The private room was mirrored on all walls so you could see your form. Unfortunately, I was all too aware of Toria’s form.
Stryker ran Toria through a brief questionnaire, taking notes about her level of fitness, before putting on the music and beginning the workout. I’d been working with Stryker for over a year now. I knew how hard even his deceptively simple workouts could be. He knew all the secrets to working even muscles you had no idea you owned.
I was pleased Toria had chosen kickboxing. It was one of my favorites.
Stryker began the workout. “Let’s warm up. March in place. Swing the arms. Faster now.” He called out the commands in time to the beat. “Guard up. Fists in front of your face.” Still marching, he gently corrected Toria’s form, lifting her elbows. “Good. That’s it.”
To my eye, Toria moved beautifully and gracefully. I was used to exercising with the guys and occasionally Blair or one of the other ladies in the group. I knew better than to ogle them, but I was having a hard time keeping my eyes to myself. Toria’s body in motion was a thing of beauty.
“Jab, jab, jab. Punch it out. Punch it hard. You’re going for a KO.” He pointed at me. “Stop slacking, Cam. You’re moving like you have lead in your ass.”
He walked to Toria and gave her a few pointers, pausing to demonstrate the technique himself and explaining the muscles we were working. He bounded back in front of us. “Cross-body jab. Hook it left. Hook right…”
He nodded his approval. “Now bob and weave. Bob and weave. Good. Good. Keep it up. Keep it going. Moving from the warmup into the cardio portion we’ll add a kick.”
Damn that Stryker. He could kick to the ceiling. And when he kicked, every muscle in his leg flexed. As much as I work on them, my kicks have never been spectacular. Suddenly, though, I found the will to match Stryker. I’d never kicked higher.
Toria kicked like a Rockette. She was competitive, too, matching Stryker for height and intensity. Once again, he had to handle the woman I was trying to impress. “Hips forward. Arms up. Jab. That’s it.”
Is trainer envy a thing? Because I sure as hell had it as I watched Stryker dominate Toria’s attention and gently correct her already-to-my-eyes great form. When he put his hands on her waist and gently showed her how to work each muscle more efficiently, I was green with envy. My hands itched to touch her. Maybe I should take up training.
To make up for my lack of contact with her, I had to show off my moves. Flex just a little more. Kick a little higher. Jab the air with more intensity. Peacock at every opportunity. Pretend to throw punches at Stryker and fake hammer his head when he wasn’t looking for punishing us with this grueling routine.
She grinned and upped her game.
Stryker caught on to my antics. “If you have time to clown around, I’m not working you hard enough, Cam.” He raised an eyebrow.
He, of course, hadn’t broken into a sweat yet. This was a figurative stroll to him. But the guy worked out eight hours a day. He exercised for a living.
Soon we were both glistening with sweat. I admire a woman who isn’t afraid to sweat, really sweat, in front of her date. I like women who aren’t afraid to get dirty.
“Getting your appetite back yet, Cam?” Stryker said through a particularly quick and vicious bit of the boxer shuffle with a speedbag move thrown in for good measure.
Now he was just baiting me.
“You told me that was the point of this workout, no?” he said.
I finally found enough breath to speak. “I’m about ready to lose that dinner, if that’s what you mean.”
During the height of the workout, Toria and I were both exercising too hard to do more than concentrate. During the cooldown, I couldn’t help myself. I turned the wrong direction on purpose so that I faced her as I jabbed.
“You want a piece of me, soldier?” She jabbed back.
Yeah. I wanted a piece of her. That was one way of putting it.
I shuffled toward her. She stepped into me.
“Uppercut!” Stryker yelled.
She took a swing at me, throwing a playful uppercut to my jaw. I shuffled backward.
“Coward.” Her eyes sparkled beneath the gym lights.
“Coward? Is that a dare?”
She laughed and shuffled toward me.
“Lunge and jab, Toria,” Stryker said. “Bob and weave, Cam. Bob and weave.”
“He’s egging us on.” I leaned back, out of reach of her moves.
We were suddenly play-boxing, with Stryker calling the shots, both of us laughing harder the longer the choreographed action lasted. When she laughed, her ponytail bobbed, and she was breathtakingly beautiful.
I held her gaze as we sparred, forgetting the exertion, just having fun. Finally, I lost myself to the playful move. As she lunged for me, I grabbed her hands, spun her around, took her around the waist, and pulled her against my sweaty chest, effectively silencing her punching moves. “What now, boxer girl?”
She laughed and leaned her head back against me, looking up at me with her lovely chocolate eyes as I bent my head and grinned at her. Her mascara and eye shadow had smudged during our workout, giving her an unintentionally sultry look. It was sexy as hell.
Catching me by surprise, she went up on her toes and kissed me quickly. I forgot myself. Forgot Stryker was in the room, still calling out instructions. While I was too surprised to react, Toria broke free from my grip.
“I have to call that match for Toria.” Stryker slapped me on the back. “Let’s lift some weights.”
Damn. It suddenly hit me—Stryker wasn’t the enemy. He was wingmanning for me. I could hardly wait to see how he’d show me off during the weight training circuit. When Toria wasn’t looking, I flashed him a thumbs-up. He grinned and winked back at me.
7
Toria
If kickboxing had been fun, weight training was simply staggering entertainment. A gym full of muscled men was a beautiful eyeful for any woman. I was in the enviable position of being in the company of the two hottest guys in the room. Some women may have preferred Stryker. And while it was true that he was wonderfully muscled and toned, Cam’s sense of humor and playfulness made him that much more attractive to me. The guy knew how to flirt. And there was a very good chance I was reacting to the pheromones he was producing as he exercised.
I didn’t know what it was about a sweaty man. It should have been repulsive. Ugh. Sweat. But those glistening, pumped muscles…
I caught his eye as he wiped his forehead with the edge of his tank top and smiled at him with my best flirty look. When there’s chemistry between two people—and we had it—the simplest look can be a flirtation. I’d forgotten how fun flirting could be. I had no desire to rein my fun in.
Stryker was an excellent trainer. I’d worked with a few trainers before, but he was the most knowledgeable and inspiring. Money could buy the best, and Cam clearly had.
Stryker adjusted the weights for me at the first free-weights station and explain how to lift properly. “Cam, spot for Toria.”
You wouldn’t think someone spotting for you could be so sexy. You wouldn’t think it could be the bonding move it was. But there was something about lying back on a lifting bench, arms trembling, struggling to lift a bar loaded with weights, and looking up to this handsome guy for help and inspiration. To see his answering grin and encouraging nod.
“You can do this, Toria. You got it. One more rep.”
To realize that I was straining, red face contorted, sweating, and he was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing alive. To trust him to protect me from dropping the bar on myself. From hurting myself. To push through and lift a weight I never thought myself capable of.
Maybe Cam had really been brilliant suggesting this date. This was the newly dating couple’s trust-building exercise.
“One more rep, Toria,�
� Stryker said. “One more rep and we’ll see what Cam can do.”
I was struggling to the point of exhaustion. My arms were visibly shaking. I grunted and shook my head. “I can’t.”
Cam bent over me, locking his gaze on me. He had beautiful eyes. “Come on,” he whispered. “You got it. I’ll help you through it.” He put a finger beneath the bar, one finger.
Suddenly, I was lifting the impossible weight as easily as if I’d done it a million times before. I whooped. He helped me ease it down. It fell into the weight rack with a satisfying clink of metal on metal. I sat up and punched the air. “Yeah!”
“I knew you could do it.”
Grinning like I’d just won the grand prize, I pointed at him. “You did it.”
He shook his head.
“You helped.” I tilted my head downward and looked up at him through my lashes, flirting shamelessly.
“I did nothing.” He wiggled his finger. “You really believe this one puny finger can lift all that weight?” He shook his head. “That was ninety-nine percent you and one percent encouragement from me.”
On impulse, I bounded up and hugged him, catching him by surprise. Even though he hadn’t started lifting, he was hard and all firm, toned muscle. He felt good in my arms—solid, a solid guy in so many beautiful ways. I could use a whole lot of solid in my life. I needed a rock. And kindness.
Cam spontaneously hugged me back, picked me up, and swung me around. I picked up my feet to my butt and met his eyes. He spun me around until we were both laughing. Joyful, gleeful laughter like this was freeing. This was a moment. That moment we wait for all our life. That moment when you feel yourself hopelessly falling for someone else. When you see your look of joy mirrored on his face and in his eyes. When the spark leaps between you and a deeper connection is made than either of you expected. Our moment, our beautiful moment, heightened by the endorphins released by exercise.
Yes, bonding was beautiful. Using the pleasure of released endorphins and the power of success were brilliant dating maneuvers.
I mentally tipped my hat to Cam. Success and pleasure were addictive. But I had the feeling they were only incidental to my growing attraction and attachment to Cam.
Mr. Accidental Rival_Jet City Matchmaker Series_Cam Page 6
