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

by Malone, Nana

  “Why do they look at you like you’re an alien?”

  “You’re kidding right? I’m barely over five foot. I might be a size two, but I’m half Brazilian and have more ass than any of them put together. And I don’t try every workout fad or do juice cleansing like my self-worth depends on it.”

  His laugh sounded very far away. “I can’t see you doing the workout fads.”

  She smirked. “Okay, to be honest, because of work, we get all that equipment and stuff for free. In my spare room, I’ve got every single workout DVD known to mankind. Including that Insanity and Asylum nonsense. Van and I once spent an entire afternoon watching them and laughing our asses off at the instructor. I mean he refers to himself in third person all the time. Who does that?”

  “Usually assholes.”

  She was really relaxed because she felt so floaty. Liam’s voice seemed to echo in the distance. “Right? I even have one of those standing desk thingies. I mean, really? Like I’m going to stand up and work. Come on. I have a Kettlebell too. Though when I last tried to use it, I almost dropped it on my head. Then I thought I’d do that P90X nonsense and tweaked my back so bad I had to skip Zumba for a month.”

  “How long have you been dancing?”

  She thought back to trying on her mother’s old costumes. “Since I was a kid. Mom used to be a competition Latin dancer. Then she got married and quit. But as a little girl, I would try on all her old costumes and dance around. She showed me how to salsa, mambo, and all that stuff.”

  “Maybe you’ll teach me.”

  Holden had always refused to learn, saying he looked stupid. “Of course. It’s not too hard really. All in the hips.”

  “Becca?”

  “Mmmm?”

  His soothing voice lapped over her like the warm water. “I want you to stay relaxed and listen to my voice.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now, slowly open your eyes, but don’t look around, just stare up at the ceiling.”

  “Uhm, okay.” She let her lashes flutter open and blinked up at the enormous skylight. The nearly full moon lit the sky, obscuring the few stars that were visible.

  “Good girl. Now take a deep breath.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Do you trust me, Becca?”

  She didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes.”

  “Then take a deep breath.”

  She did as she was told.

  “Good.” She heard him inhale and exhale deeply. “You’ve been floating on your own for the past five minutes.”

  Say what the fuck? Becca blinked rapidly, then swallowed hard. But she listened to him and stayed calm. “Okay, now what do I do?”

  She heard the laugh in his voice when he said, “Enjoy it.”

  It was another several minutes before she noticeably felt Liam’s hands back on her back. He gently shifted her to a standing position, and she turned to grin at him. “Holy shit. That was fun.”

  “This calls for a celebration. How about a latte on me?”

  Just like she didn’t have to think about it when he’d asked if she trusted him, she didn’t need to think about her response. “Free latte? You do know your way to a woman’s heart.”

  Chapter Seven

  Growing up, Liam had spent most of his time with Dear Old Dad, learning to swim, learning to conquer goals, and learning how to be a champion. The one thing he’d learned from his mother was how to give a woman space when she needed it.

  Becca was fighting some demons tonight, and not only because of her fear of the water. But he’d kept her talking, and floating—thank God—and he’d given her space, and the tools, to work through whatever was bothering her.

  As she swung through the door to the tiny coffee shop a block over from the Club, she was still beaming. And bouncing. He loved how she had this little bounce in her step.

  Now dressed in jeans and a Batman T-shirt, she bellied up to the counter and gave him a smile with enough megawatts to light Solona Beach from end to end. This carefree Becca was so much better than the tense Becca.

  “What’s your poison?” he asked and watched her face as she scanned the menu board. She seemed to take the choices quite seriously.

  “Iced mocha, skinny, extra whip.”

  The gal behind the counter punched a couple of buttons on the cash register, grabbed a plastic cup from the nearby stack, and asked, “Name?”

  Becca pointed at her shirt. “Batman. Who else?”

  The gal smacked her gum and rolled her eyes. She sent the cup down to the kid working the espresso machine and returned to the cash register. “Is that it?”

  Liam suppressed a smile. “Latte, extra shot, also skinny.”

  Repeating her movements, she didn’t ask his name, simply wrote “Robin” on his cup and sent it to Mr. Espresso.

  Becca found a table while Liam paid. By the time the counter gal made change, Becca’s drink was ready. “One iced mocha for The Dark Knight,” the kid yelled.

  Becca grinned from the table as Liam retrieved it and walked over to her. “Cute,” he said, handing her the drink and sitting down next to her. The place was busy for so late at night, packed with mostly college kids, and the table she’d found barely seated two. He had to squeeze his legs under the booth and try not to jam his knees into hers.

  “I try.” She played with her straw for a moment. “So who are you, Liam Swim Instructor? It occurred to me I don’t even know your last name.”

  “It’s Caldwell. And apparently, I’m Robin to your Batman.”

  “I always wanted my own personal Robin.”

  With her husky voice, the comment sounded entirely dirty. Or maybe he’d been without a girlfriend too long. Luckily, the barista shouted his pseudonym and saved him from responding.

  He jumped up, nearly knocking the table over, and went to get his drink. He took his time grabbing a few napkins and headed back to their table. What exactly was he going to talk to her about?

  Swimming. Safe topic, right? But really, what was there to say? He shimmied back into his seat, sipped his latte. “Skinny but with whip, huh?”

  She nodded, completely serious. “Gotta know where to cut calories and where not to.”

  “I see.” He liked a woman who didn’t obsess over calories and would splurge for the good ones. “Are you enjoying your lessons?”

  She scrunched up her face. “Enjoying might be the wrong word.”

  He laughed. “Give it another couple of lessons, and I’ll ask again.”

  “Are you avoiding telling me about yourself?”

  Absolutely. Once women found out who he was, and who his family was, they changed. Things with Becca were going well. He wanted to keep them that way. “You’re not originally from around here, are you?”

  Becca narrowed her eyes. “No. What, the lack of blond hair give me away? I’m from Princeton, New Jersey. And cool it on the Jersey jokes.”

  That’s where the slight accent came from. “Beautiful area. I swam a time trial for Junior Olympics there once. Why’d you move out here?”

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I was working in New York for Bloomingdale’s corporate office. My boss and I had a difference of opinion on how to move my career forward, so I quit. Got a job out here and never looked back.”

  “Do you miss it? Jersey?”

  “Uhm, yeah, sometimes. My family is still there, and I miss the changing seasons. Princeton in the fall is stunning. But I don’t want to move back or anything. Lots of new places to see and explore.” She eyed his chest, and he felt the heat of her direct gaze. “Have you always loved water?”

  There was a safe topic. “I was a water baby from the start. I grew up in it. My dad is a trainer, so I had free access to a pool every day. My older brother was just like me, and we spent our young years being chased out of the training areas by the dedicated swimmers.”

  She smiled, and like always, it lit her face. Liam’s heart beat like he’d just swam a lap.

&nbs
p; “Your dad’s a trainer? Like you?”

  Not like me. Not at all. “He’s a competitive trainer.”

  “For swim competitions? Like, say, the Ironman?”

  “Sort of. He’s trained kids for all kinds of competitions. His focus, though, is Olympic champions.”

  Her eyes went wide. “No way. Has he trained anyone I would know? Like guys who won gold medals or something?”

  Only a few dozen. Liam ticked off the names of several gold medalists on his fingers and watched Becca’s mouth drop. “You’re kidding!”

  “Nope. He’s the man.”

  “No wonder you’re so good in the water.”

  Yeah, no wonder.

  “Did you ever want to be an Olympian?”

  Only my entire young life. “I dreamed of it for a while.” Until my father worked me to the point of exhaustion for months on end. “I developed swimmer’s shoulder, which led to tendonitis. Everything went downhill after that.”

  “That sucks the big one.”

  No apology or pity in her tone—just the straight, unadulterated truth. He appreciated that. “It did suck, in many ways. My father and I were pretty tight up until that happened, then he didn’t have time for me. His dream of seeing me go to the Olympics died along with mine.”

  “But thank God it happened.”

  His brows rose. “What?”

  “Well, I mean, if it hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here, and where would that leave me? I’ve taken swim lessons three times in my life and never got this far. So excuse me for being rude, but thank God your Olympic dream never materialized and you’re stuck helping crazy people like me overcome their fear of water.”

  Laughter bubbled up inside him. She was such a refreshing change from the usual women he encountered at the Club and the bars Alex dragged him to. “My mother always says, we all have a purpose.”

  “And yours is teaching me to swim.”

  The way Becca smiled at him made his heart dance around in his chest again. He wasn’t supposed to fraternize with his clients, yet here he was…

  To hell with the rules. “How about we meet again tomorrow night? I have something special planned for you.”

  “Ooh, that sounds like fun.” She giggled, and he bit back a groan as his dick stirred. “Can we come here again afterward?”

  Was she asking him on a date or simply flirting? With Becca it was hard to tell. “Anything you want, Becca.”

  She raised her fists and did a celebratory wiggle in her chair, and he was gone. Bam, right there, with his knees squished under the table and the caffeine buzzing in his veins.

  Anything at all.

  Chapter Eight

  Liam could hardly focus the next day, thanks to Becca.

  Henry’s mom had called and told Liam she didn’t want to transfer Henry to an L.A. school. At first she used sound reasoning—that Henry would be away from his family, his friends, and thrown into a whole new school and way of life. She argued that it was a lot for a kid to handle. But Liam saw through her arguments. The fact was, she depended on the kid for everything, given her drinking. What she was really worried about was surviving without him.

  Liam tried every piece of logic he could find to reason with her. To figure out a way to smooth Henry’s transition. But there was no reasoning with her.

  Manny had a private training center and a group of swimmers he was damn protective of. And Liam could get Henry into the nearby private school. Hell, he could hire a private tutor. He just had to figure out all the details. Why couldn’t she see how good this would be for her son?

  An hour after talking to Henry’s mother, Liam’s own mother called with news. She was quitting all her meds. Canceling all her pending treatments. “If I’m going out, I’m going out my way.”

  As usual, he appreciated her fortitude. At that moment, however, the thought of losing her turned his stomach. “I’ll be over later to discuss this, Mom. Don’t do anything until I get there.”

  Then, there was Becca. The big surprise he was planning. Would she get it? Or would she turn tail and run?

  When five o’clock finally rolled around, he texted her. Meet me at the downtown city pool at seven. Bring your suit.

  Why? she texted back a minute later.

  The surprise is there.

  I love surprises, but not if water’s involved.

  No worries. I’ll be there.

  K.

  He arrived an hour early to meet with Henry. The kid was nervous.

  “I talked to your mom today, Henry. We’ll get something figured out about the school deal, okay? You’re a terrific young swimmer, and Manny can give you the proper training. Put you on the path to the Olympics, if that’s what you want.”

  The kid played with his goggles. “I do, but you know, it ain’t easy getting your mom on board.”

  Liam had never had that trouble. The opposite, in fact. “Sucks leaving your family, huh?”

  The kid nodded.

  “I’m working on options about school, and I’ll figure out a way for your mom to travel up to L.A. whenever she wants to see you.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  They exchanged a funky Henry-inspired handshake. Then he jumped into the water, happy once more. For now anyway.

  Liam took him through their normal warm-up drill and routine. When it neared seven, Liam motioned Henry to the side of the pool. “You holding back tonight?”

  “Nah, man.”

  “Your breaststroke is off by .5 seconds.”

  “Maybe I’m a little tired.”

  “Staying up too late again?”

  “Maybe.”

  A few of the kids in the seven o’clock class began filing in. “Well, I have a lady friend stopping by tonight. She’s learning to swim like a few in this next class. Think you could give her some pointers?”

  “Me?” his voice went up a notch.

  Ah, puberty. “Yeah, I figure she can help a few of the new kids who are scared to put their faces in the water, and you, my friend, can show her how to coordinate her arms and feet.”

  Henry’s smile stretched from one side of his face to the other. “You fix that school problem I got, and I could probably help you out.”

  Liam bent down, and the two shook on it.

  Becca, as usual, was running a few minutes late. Liam already had the kids who were scared of water in the pool. One girl in particular was proving a challenge. This was her third lesson, and she had yet to put her face in the water.

  Becca was still in her street clothes when she entered. She scanned the group, the pool, and finally smiled when she found Liam in the shallow end. She raised a hand and waved.

  “Where’s your suit?” he called to her.

  She went to a bench and started undressing…in front of everyone. Luckily, she had her suit on under her clothes or else some of the boys would have had one hell of an anatomy lesson.

  Henry swam to Liam. “That your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend.”

  “Right.” The kid nodded, totally not believing him. “I got your back, man.”

  Henry launched himself out of the pool. Liam told his group to stay put and practice bubbles and launched himself out as well.

  The kid beat him to the punch. “I’m Henry,” he was saying to Becca as Liam hustled over. “I hear you could use some help with coordination.”

  Great. Just great. “Becca, you’ve met my protégée. He’s going to be a great swimmer, but he’s a sucky wingman. Henry, this is Becca.”

  Becca laughed, and Liam could feel her burning gaze running over his dripping chest and shoulders before she held her hand out to the kid. “Nice to meet you, Henry.” She lifted an eyebrow at Liam. “I don’t usually need help with my coordination unless I’ve had more than two margaritas.” She didn’t seem to care about the city pool’s peeling paint and dingy floors. She hadn’t run. Instead she grinned at him.

  “In the
pool. We need to work on your arm and feet coordination. The next step in your lessons, and Henry’s got a cool little trick he used to learn how to do it. But first, there’s someone else I’d like you to meet.”

  “Okay.”

  She followed him around the edge of the pool, and he helped her into the water. “Becca, meet Lori. Lori, this is Becca.”

  Once again, Becca went through the introductions without asking any questions. Lori, shivering in the water with a look of pure terror on her face, refused to let go of the pool’s side to shake hands. Becca seemed to immediately take to her. “I bet your mom made you come here, didn’t she?”

  The girl nodded, and Becca waved her arm in a slow arc through the water. “Scary, huh?”

  Another nod. Becca kept talking, and pretty soon, Lori started answering some of her questions. Such a simple thing, but it gave Liam hope as he returned to the rest of the class and introduced pushing off from the side.

  Half an hour later, Becca had Lori putting her face in the water up to her lips. They blew bubbles in unison, seeing who could blow the longest string. The lesson was only forty-five minutes long, so Liam let them continue, and he took the other kids one by one into the back float position.

  When the lesson was over, the kids filed out, leaving Liam, Becca, and Henry alone in the pool.

  “My turn,” Henry said, grabbing Becca’s hand. “Follow my lead.” He started her off with slow strokes while she stood in chest-deep water. “Remember, cup the hands and reach forward.”

  “Like this?” she said, mimicking Henry’s motions.

  “When your hand enters the water, fill your cup and push it out the other side.”

  If there was one thing Liam had learned over the years, it was that teaching others could be a satisfying experience. As satisfying as learning a new trick or accomplishing a goal. It could also help you lose your inhibitions and take bigger risks. Teachers often learned from their students. At least the good ones did.

  With Liam’s help, Henry moved Becca into kicking position. Liam held Becca afloat on her stomach. Henry held his hand over her heels. “Kick me,” he said.