Hit & Run Bride (Hit & Run Bride Contemporary Romance Series)

by Malone, Nana

  * * *

  “You’re here to learn how to swim.” Liam paced slowly in the water. Thank God, it hid his erection for Miss Hit and Run—or not run, in this case. When she’d locked that curvy body onto his and made that soft whimpering noise when the wave had hit her…well, he couldn’t help his reaction. The way she’d looked at him...and that smile…

  Get your head in the game, Li. He cleared his throat. “Before a baby can learn to walk, he or she has to crawl. Tonight, we’re starting with the basics. First up, putting your head in the water.”

  Becca made a funny noise again. Her face looked like he’d suggested they all dive into the deep end with bricks tied to their ankles.

  One of her classmates, a short, balding guy named Chuck, raised a hand. “Should we hold our breath?”

  Ya think? “Yes. Take a deep breath, hold it for three seconds, and dip your head into the water. All the way.”

  Several of the students exchanged a look. Did holding their breath and getting their heads wet really come as a surprise?

  He backtracked. “Let’s blow bubbles.” Sinking down until his lips were even with the surface of the water, he blew across it. Then he took a breath, sunk an inch lower so his lips were covered and blew out slowly. Once he’d sent a dozen bubbles to the surface, he stood again. “See? Easy. Take a breath, sink down, blow a few bubbles.”

  Two students did as instructed, sending a flood of bubbles to the surface while their gazes stayed on him. As each returned to standing, they wore smiles. Two more, seeing their success, gave it a try. One succeeded. The other sucked in some pool water and coughed and spit. But once she’d recovered, she tried again.

  Over the next five minutes, everyone but Becca attempted the bubble exercise. While they continued to practice, Liam edged next to her. “Becca? Want to try it?”

  She shook her head emphatically.

  “Come on, it’s not bad. I promise.”

  “I don’t want to. Uh...maybe we could start slower? With something easier?”

  Curves and big, brown eyes aside, the woman was high-maintenance. “In order to swim, you have to put your head in the water. This is the first step. You can do it.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “I can see that.” Difficult students never daunted him. “What do you want to do?”

  Her gaze lifted to his. “Go home, take a hot bath, and forget I ever came here tonight.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  She didn’t answer, but her lips firmed. She hugged herself, lifting her ample breasts to new heights. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know, but I don’t think I can do this.”

  Fear was a powerful motivator. Or demotivator. “Can you hold your breath?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Do you ever take a shower?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

  “So close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Trust me.”

  She swallowed hard, hugged herself tighter—wow, was it hard not to stare at her curves—and finally shut her eyes.

  “Now, listen to the sound of my voice. I’m right here with you. Hold onto me, if you want.”

  Both of her hands shot out and gripped his biceps. He almost laughed. “We’re going to lower ourselves down until the water hits our chins.”

  “Just our chins?”

  “Just our chins. Ready?”

  She took a fortifying breath. “Okay.”

  He slowly lowered his upper body into the water, bringing her along with him while she clung to his arms. She was shorter by a good eight to ten inches by his calculation, so her chin connected before his. She froze, but he talked her through it. “Perfect. You did great. Now open your eyes.”

  Those killer brown eyes popped open. The water lapped at her chin, and her knees touched his. “I did it.”

  Well, she’d done part of it. “Now we’re going to take a deep breath and sink an inch lower. Let the water touch your lips.”

  The fear came back into her eyes. He wanted to touch her, reassure her, but he knew better. Someone who feared the water could react in funny ways. Better to let her hold onto him. “You don’t have to blow a bubble yet, just get your lips wet.”

  He drew a deep breath, pleased when she followed his lead. Then he lowered his chin past the surface. The water lapped his lips.

  Becca lowered her chin as well, her eyes locked onto his. The second the water touched her lips, moistening them, she popped straight up. She planted a big smile on him and said, “Well, that was fun. Is the lesson over?”

  “Not until you blow a bubble, Becca.”

  “Maybe I’ll do that next time, huh?”

  She glanced longingly at the railing, then back at his arms. Oh, no, he wasn’t letting her get away that easily. But if he had to spend this much one-on-one time with her, the other students would complain.

  A couple of the other students were holding their noses as they dunked their heads underwater. “Don’t hold your nose,” Liam said. “Just your breath.”

  He really needed to move the class forward to pushing off the side and gliding, but Becca’s fear of the water kept him where he was. “One more time,” he said to her. “On your own.”

  She did that headshake again, her curly hair flying around her head. “The water might go up my nose.”

  “We’re only going in to our lips. We’ll do it together.” He moved so he stood right in front of her, refusing to back down.

  She relented, gripping his biceps again. “You have very nice muscles, Mr. Swim Teacher.”

  Was she trying to distract him? Not going to work. “On three, Becca. Ready? One, two, three.”

  She went down as far as her lips then reluctantly lowered another half an inch. The water lapped higher than before and went up her nose. She jerked upright, coughing and spewing.

  God, help him. If he knew anything about this woman, she was done for the night.

  He let her compose herself and gathered the others to show them how to push off the wall and glide. The next few minutes were taken up with guiding, correcting, and encouraging each of them. When he looked back over at Becca, she was watching her classmates with a sort of longing. As if she’d trade anything to be able to do what they were doing.

  Damn. He’d seen kids at the inner city pool with that exact same longing on their faces. Swimming was about freedom. For him, it had always been the one place he could escape the real world and be himself.

  He sidled up to Becca, keeping an eye on the other students. “There’s nothing as soothing as gliding through the water. If you hang in there and let me teach you how to swim, I promise you’ll love it.”

  She smiled, but it faltered. “I can’t even put my head in the water.”

  “All it takes is conditioning. Come on. Let’s do it again.”

  He positioned himself in front of her once more, and she did the drill. A wave generated from the other students hit her face, but this time, she was holding her breath properly and survived. Another couple of tries, and she managed to get her hair wet.

  But blowing bubbles still wasn’t working. She kept blowing all her stored air out in one big burst.

  “Try this,” he told her. “Hum.”

  “Hum? Like a song?”

  “A single note. Start humming before you put your lips under and that will pace your breathing.”

  She drew a deep breath, looking dubious, but did as he told her. Her hum sounded a lot like the yoga gals meditating. “Ommm,” she hummed.

  It worked. She kept the lower half of her face under for several seconds, and when she rose up, she was smiling. A real smile.

  Best part, she was ready to do it again. Before long, she blew a set of three bubbles.

  “I did it!” She actually turned loose of him and did a little dance, wiggling her bottom and her glorious top at him. “I blew bubbles!”

  Satisfaction warmed his blood. He’d never lost a student yet. “Ready to tackle glidin
g?”

  Her smile faded. “Can I stay here and hum?”

  “Five more minutes, and then you try gliding, okay?”

  Her eyes were still lit with accomplishment. “Okay.”

  Yes. At least she was willing to try.

  Leaving her to practice her new skill, he went back to the other students. Maybe after class, he’d offer private lessons. He typically didn’t do that, but she was so scared of the water it would be better for her. Then they could go at her pace, rather than the pace dictated by the club.

  But she might take offense too. And he didn’t want to put her off. Not when she’d made a huge leap in confidence tonight.

  Keep telling yourself that’s all it is, Li. Not the fact your dick gets hard every time she touches you.

  Hell, she didn’t have to touch him. He was so sex-starved, the simple sound of her voice, and her vulnerable eyes were enough to make him think of all the things he’d like to do to her.

  As he took the other students through the next step—floating on their backs—he decided he would offer the private lessons. And maybe, he’d end up dating more than a beer and his TV remote.

  Chapter Four

  Vanessa’s voice came through Becca’s Bluetooth in her ear as she headed for home. “Well, how did it go?”

  Becca tried to ignore the butterflies in her belly as she thought of Liam. She was about to be a married woman. She could not start crushing on her swim instructor. “Uhm, well, it wasn’t a total disaster.”

  A car skidded in front of her, and she braked hard to avoid rear-ending it. The freeway was clogged like always, but seriously, it was only a little drizzle. Southern Californians could not drive. Granted, she was the one sporting damage to her brand new car. She took a deep breath. No sense being angry about it now. He said he’d fix it.

  Van laughed. “Well that’s hardly a glowing review. Are you feeling okay? I know you said you almost drowned once.”

  Becca took a second to examine her feelings as she merged on to the Five. “I actually feel okay. It wasn’t as bad as I imagined.” She left out the part about how she hadn’t been able to get into the pool. “Liam was great.”

  Vanessa was silent for one beat, then two. “Who is Liam?”

  Again, flutters stirred low in her belly. Damn butterflies. “He’s the instructor. Funny story actually—I rear-ended him in the parking lot. Not my fault, by the way; he came out of nowhere. You can imagine my surprise when he turned out to be the teacher. But he was really good at it weirdly. Patient and all that. I know I was probably a pain in the ass, but he never lost his temper and just kept pushing, so that was good.”

  She knew she was rambling. Her brain even gave the command to stop talking, but she kept going. And going. “I wouldn’t have pegged him for a teacher. I mean he’s so…” Her voice trailed off as she thought for a moment. “Male. You know those guys that exude masculine energy no matter what they do? Even if it’s eating ice-cream or something? That’s him. You’d think a teacher would exude a more nurturing aura—if I believed in auras. But you get what I’m saying.” The command her brain gave to her lips finally registered, and she shut up.

  Vanessa was silent. Didn’t say a word. Becca recognized this tactic. And she used it often at work to get people to divulge information they would rather not share.

  Finally, she spoke, and Becca exhaled.

  “So, about Liam.” Van deliberately pronounced each syllable of his name. “What does he look like?”

  A warning bell rang in the back of Becca’s mind, so she answered carefully. “You know—tall, broad-shouldered. Dark hair. Blue eyes.” She kept her description to the basics. No need to tell her friend that she understood all the fuss about swimmers’ shoulders now. Or about the way he’d held her tight to his hard, well-defined body.

  And certainly no reason to divulge the way his eyes had lit up and crinkled at the corners when she’d succeeded in blowing bubbles, or the way he’d fixed her with an intense stare when she’d refused him at first. As if he could mentally will her into trying. Or how strong his hand had been when he’d led her into the pool. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell Van how, in his arms, she’d felt...safe.

  Except, she wanted to tell her friend all about it. She wanted to do the full schoolgirl-crush divulge, complete with girly magazines and ice-cream, and a full dissection of his body language and words.

  But she couldn’t do that. Because she was getting married. To Holden. Whom she loved. Who wanted to take her to Kona...for the freaking Ironman.

  Vanessa’s voice was calm and leading. “So broad-shouldered and tall. Anything else to go on here? Like say, is he hot or horribly disfigured?”

  Becca considered lying. After all, it wasn’t like Van would ever meet the guy, right? “Okay, so he’s hot, so what? I’m in love with Holden. My fiancé.” She glanced at her ring and suppressed a shudder. She’d really have to talk to him about the ring. Looking at the ugly thing for the rest of eternity was not going to work for her.

  “So he’s hot with broad shoulders. What aren’t you telling me, Becs?”

  Oh, man. There was a reason Vanessa was so good as an account manager. She had a way of getting out all the details. “I-I don’t know. I just...It felt like he was paying attention to me, you know? Actually paying attention to what I needed. It was nice. Felt good. But it doesn’t mean anything. I mean, I love Holden. I’m going to marry Holden.”

  Van sighed. “Honey, no one’s judging you. It’s perfectly natural to have a crush and flirt. You’re engaged, not dead. You’re supposed to notice the opposite sex. Besides, there’s nothing hotter than a man in the water.”

  Vanessa was right—this was normal. She was normal. No need to freak out. Becca took the exit toward downtown. “I know. I’m just not sure how I’m supposed to feel. It’s weird thinking about someone other than Holden.”

  “I know, sweetie. Speaking of your man, are you two kicking off wedding planning? October is a little over six months away, but you might want to pull together the wedding before Kona. You know, small details.”

  “Already on it. Holden is coming over tonight to discuss it.”

  “Good. Great. You guys will work it out, then you’ll feel more comfortable and solid in the whole thing.” Van was silent for another beat. “Do you plan on telling him about the lessons?”

  The answer tumbled off of Becca’s tongue before she even knew she was forming the words. “Fuck, no!”

  Vanessa laughed. “I concur.”

  “He seemed so excited, and I don’t want to burst his bubble yet. I’m hoping I become a good enough swimmer to do the race. I mean how hard can it be? If I can learn to swim in a few weeks, then I’ll practically be an expert by Kona.”

  “Well, don’t push yourself too hard. It’s okay to take your time. Keep going to class, and I’m sure you’ll progress. But don’t get discouraged if you don’t move as fast as you want.”

  Becca pursed her lips as she made a left onto Sixth Avenue. “The thing is, I had a little trouble. You know, getting in the water and getting comfortable, so Liam, erm, my teacher suggested I take privates with him until I’m more comfortable.”

  She could visualize Vanessa seated Indian-style on her sofa, her mouth agape. “Privates? With the hottie swim instructor?”

  “Yes,” Becca squeaked.

  “My God, I am totally living vicariously through you from now on, and not for your ability to hunt down designer bargains.”

  Becca groaned. “You see? This is a problem.”

  “Oh, calm down. I’m teasing you. Go home, have a large glass of wine. Make that two. Talk to your fiancé. Plan your wedding. And next time you have class, snap a picture of Mr. Hottie so I can get the clear imagery of what I’m experiencing vicariously.”

  Becca laughed. “Okay, I’m home now, and I see Holden’s car in visitor parking, so I’d better get up there. You know how he gets when he has to wait.”

  After hanging up with her frien
d, Becca schlepped her bags through the lit garage to the residents’ elevator. Her stomach flipped and she tried to quell the sense of foreboding as she pressed the button for the sixth floor. It was going to be fine. All she had to do was talk to Holden. He would understand about the ring, and Kona.

  Except, when she opened the door to her apartment, she found glossy magazines littering her couch and coffee table, and some on the floor with tropical images on the covers. Holden was leaning forward on the edge the coffee table shouting at the television.

  Basketball...again. It wasn’t that she minded basketball. She even liked watching some games. But only the NBA. She couldn’t stand watching the college games. They always paled in comparison to the pros. And she’d asked him a million times to not sit on her coffee table. She’d managed to grab the Ethan Allen piece at an estate sale for less than a hundred dollars. The original retailed for nearly a grand.

  Not wanting to pick a fight, she went into the bedroom and dropped her bags off before going back into her living room. “What’s all this?”

  Holden finally looked up from the TV as if seeing her for the first time. “Hey you.” He stood and gave her a brief peck, his eyes riveted once more on the television.

  Again, she stifled her irritation. “Holden, you want to move to the couch so we can look through these magazines?”

  She could have sworn she saw an eye roll, but he complied. “Yeah, I grabbed a bunch of stuff from the office on Kona and locations for the wedding. I figure we should really kick things into gear.”

  Becca sorted the magazines into stacks. There were destination catalogues on things to do, Hawaii tourist brochures, and Triathlon training magazines, but not one Modern Bride or dress magazine in the bunch. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I was hoping we could get married back home in New Jersey. There’s this quaint church near the Princeton campus. It’s beautiful. Gorgeous gardens and Ivy snaking up the walls. It’s quaint, but so elegant. I’ve always wanted to get married there.”

  Holden still didn’t tear his eyes from the television. Finally, Becca grabbed the remote and turned it off.