by T. I. Lowe
Perhaps this is why the woman chooses not to speak. I can’t even muster up one give-a-care over that at five in the morning. My mind has been trained on the fruitless attempt to garner some control over my life. I wish that was as easy to not care about as it is in not gaining a single friend from this class.
I’m still ticked at Maxine for blowing me off about ending the ghost writing gig. She has only responded via text message since the party, and only sends the record-setting sales numbers as proof I should just shut up and keep doing what I’m told. I’m sick of being told to sit in the corner and be quiet.
These poor souls in body boot camp get to be the victims of my wrath. I almost feel remorseful until Sergeant Jerk pulls me to the side after each class to deliver an attitude adjustment that I adamantly ignore. I’m diligent on pointing out that all he has to do is hand me my money back and the entire group would be rid of me, but he’s as stubborn as I am and won’t budge. Jerk.
“Today is all about plyometrics.” Beck paces in front of the class. A hat is pushed low on his head, concealing those electric-blue eyes. “I want to see space between your feet and the sand today. We’re going to begin with a power skip warm-up. Follow me.” He takes off down the beach in a skip. Seriously.
“Skipping? Are we preschoolers?” I shout from the back of the line.
No one even acknowledges a word I just said, as usual, but it doesn’t deter my rant from continuing.
“We pay you hundreds of dollars for this crap?” I grunt and sluggishly skip by myself with the group putting a good bit of distance between us until Beck backtracks and begins skipping beside me.
“Pick up your knees!” He barks the command out, causing my body to automatically rebel against me by obeying him. “Faster! Faster!”
“Stop yelling at me!” I scowl up at him.
“Then do what you should and stop acting like a two-year-old!” His gruff voice shouts each word as he glares down at me from underneath the brim of his hat.
His formidable stature communicates pure intimidation. I should cower. I should pee my pants. Instead, my stubborn nature takes over the situation. I’ve wasted too much of my life by cowering down. Still do, but something here says I don’t and won’t take it quietly from him. Obedience is evidently what he’s used to, but sass is what this overgrown jerk is gonna get.
“No!” I slow to a walk. “I’m a grown woman and do as I darn well please.”
“A grown woman would accept the responsibility of something she’s committed to and do it to the best of her ability. She certainly wouldn’t be making a fool of herself like you!” He has enough nerve to move behind me and give me a not-so-nice shove. “Get going!”
His comment has the effect of being slapped in the face and has my mouth going mute. Any comeback for his snide remark will only make me sound stupid and immature, so I swallow it back down. I try slowing again after a few stuttered skips, but his large body eliminates almost all of the space between us from him skipping so close. If I do slow, we will both be on the ground.
“Oh, so you’re gonna bully me into this today?”
“If that’s what it takes. Speed it up!” A heated wall of muscle presses into my upper back as he continues shouting out orders, causing the tension between us to escalate. “Knees up! Faster!”
“You’re in my personal space! Back off!”
“Do something about it!” He growls the challenge as his thighs begin meeting the back of my butt.
Him this close to me feels almost intimate and has me all flustered. Confused by how his touch and heated words affect me, I do something about it. My feet kick into gear and put a safe distance between us. Enough so that I can breathe marginally better.
The demonic skip continues for miles. I swear we’ve crossed at least one state line before he commands the group to turn around and head back. Once we are in our designated spots, the lady I’ve attached myself to, whether she likes it or not, is doubled over and vomiting. Beck pays her no attention, just launches us right into burpees and then on to squat jumps. By the end of class, my body is trembling from the exertion and the recurring limp in my walk has returned.
The group staggers off like a bunch of dazed zombies, but I’m unable to even do that. I drop to the sand like a sweaty sack of potatoes and stare blankly at the ocean.
“You’re going to be the biggest pain my backside has ever known for the next month, aren’t you?” Beck walks over and sits gracefully beside me. The man is too dang agile for such a giant. His height has to be closer to seven foot than six.
“We know how you can remove that pain,” I mumble while willing my eyes to lock on the waves. “Just give me my money back and I’ll disappear.”
“What would be the fun in that?” He chuckles quietly as though he doesn’t want to share it with me.
We remain silent for a while, listening to the seagulls squawking at their breakfast along the shore. My eyes grow heavy in contentment.
Too tired to put the effort in to be rude, I decide to try on an air of civility and comment, “I’m surprised by the various dynamics of those attending your class.”
“Oh, so you do know how to be pleasant.”
I glance over and catch the smirk forming on his lips. And that makes me want to slap it off. “Baby, I know how to do a lot of things and do them well.”
That got rid of the smirk, but now those wicked lips are parted in the most welcoming way. The heat climbs my neck and on to my cheeks.
“What else can you do well?” His thick eyebrows slowly lift as his raspy voice delivers the dare.
Have I mentioned how incredibly sexy that gruff voice is?
What the heck is wrong with me? I go from civility to sauciness within two sentences. The blame for my verbal nonsense is on the endorphins that are finally kicking in. I can’t believe I just sat here beside this handsome jerk and quoted a flipping line from a chapter I wrote last night.
“I don’t do a darn thing well. You’ll just have to overlook me. I’m sleep deprived.” I start to list even more excuses, but clamp my mouth shut when he places his hand on my knee.
“Harp, I’ve witnessed you doing quite a few things well. You have stubbornness down to an art form. And when you don’t think I’m paying attention, you do the exercises like a boss. No more of that self-depreciation. I won’t put up with it.” He removes his hand, turns his hat backwards and leans back on his elbows, taking on such an appearance of calm it relaxes me. Gone is the gruff intimidation of a drill sergeant, replaced by serenity of a simple man enjoying the sun on his face. Wow.
I look away but can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. His eyes are shut and his face is tilted toward the sun. It only now registers that he called me something besides Blume. “Harp?”
“Yep. You remind me of a buddy of mine from my unit. Always trying to get under everyone’s skin by harping on nonsense and mouthing off all the time. Ironically, his name is Harper and we’ve always called him Harp. It suits you, too.”
“I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”
Beck chuckles a little louder this time, sharing the warmth of it with me and danged if I don’t like it.
He keeps his eyes closed, so I take the time to give him a thorough looking over. There’s barely any evidence of sweat on his white sleeveless tee, which blows my mind since I could wring my tank top out it’s so soaked. He crosses his long legs at the ankle, showing off miles of bronzed skin. A burn scar catches my attention where it peeks out at the edge of his dark gym shorts. It runs along the side of his kneecap and makes me hurt just by looking at it. That deal with a momma kissing her baby’s booboo better runs through my mind as I demand my hands to keep to themselves. I glance back at his face and freeze with finding those blue jewels watching me. His bold irises remind me of the turquoise water along the coast of Barbados. Exotic and alluring.
Seems we are heading toward a territory I’m unfamiliar with, making my cheeks heat and my
stomach to flutter. It feels like he sees way more than he should. Wanting to get off this uncomfortable track, I veer it back to my comment from earlier. “You should advertise that your class is designed for only diehard fitness buffs and soldiers.”
“My courses are structured for all fitness levels.”
I cough at that absurdity. “Hardly. I can’t even walk off the beach right now. And that poor woman was throwing up between sets.”
“Nadine?”
“Is that her name? She won’t talk to me.”
“Do you blame her? You’re trouble.” He plows on quickly as soon as my lips part to form a rebuke. “Nadine served two tours in Iraq. She knows what rigorous training is all about. She can handle it, and so can you if you’d stop fighting against everything I tell you to do.”
I ignore the last part and ask, “How’d she get so out of shape?” I’d say Nadine is at least two hundred pounds. It’s hard to picture her as a fit soldier.
“Like most moms, I suppose. She retired from the military to start a family. Popped out a few babies and got wrapped up in raising them. She forgot to take care of herself, but wants to reclaim her health.”
“Like most moms? Not like mine.” I shake my head and go back to checking out the ocean. With the day being so early, no one is bothering it yet. It’s rather tranquil.
“Your mom is good at balancing kids and herself?” Beck asks, misunderstanding my comment.
“Just one kid and the various nannies got paid to balance me. Made it easy to stay number one on her list.” I snort again. “I never was more than an accessory to my parents…” I bring out an exaggerated southern drawl and imitate them.
“‘Darlin’, does this child go well with my plans for tonight?’
‘No, not at all. Put it away.’
‘Honey, does this child pair well with my charity event?’
‘I do believe so. Bring it along.’”
Shocked by the word vomit that just spewed from my mouth, I shoot to my feet and go to take off to get away from the embarrassment, but my leg chooses to catch a cramp and sends me back to the sand. I cling to it and groan in pain.
“Roll over,” Beck says, but he’s already flipping me before I can obey. His large hands deftly work along my calf muscle to work the spasm out. He keeps kneading the muscle until it relaxes enough to release the pain.
My eyes rolls to the back of my head and the grunting groans turn into mewling moans. This should be awkward, him touching me. Maybe later, once I’m home, I’ll feel differently. But this man’s touch is stinging and soothing at the same time, and I never want it to stop. Oh, that feels so heavenly…
“Better?” he asks, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his tone.
“Yes… but my other leg kinda hurts now.” I wait for him to yank me up and send me on my way. Instead, another elongated moan slips from my mouth when I feel the strength of his grip on my other calf.
Beck takes his time, but it’s still too soon when he removes his touch. “You good?”
“Well, my back is a little tight.” I reach around to clutch my lower back.
He lets out a robust laugh. “Maybe you should schedule yourself a massage.”
Grunting, I push to my knees and then on to my feet. “The idea of a stranger’s hands all over my body doesn’t appeal to me.”
Those thick brows of his lift again. Yes, I allowed his hands on me and I’m still confused by that one. When I just stand here like a cheeser, his mouth splits into a grin.
Oh my…
Beck McCaffery was handsome before while wearing his menacing scowl. He was striking while his face rose towards the sun just minutes ago. But that grin… The man just stole something from me with it, and I’m all tangled up with trying to figure out exactly what that is.
Flustered, I don’t wait around to figure it out. Without another word, I start up the beach and over to my golf cart.
“Be sure to hydrate. And stretch good after your shower,” he calls out, but I pretend not to hear him. With him talking about showers and stretching, my entire body is in a mad tizzy.
Once the golf cart is parked back home, an itch to write is crawling all over my skin. I know I should go shower first, but all of these odd emotions have been stirred up this morning and has me heading straight to the office. They’re a new experience and my need to express them through writing calls so strongly I’m alarmed by it.
Opening one of the stories I’ve not shared with Maxine, I plow into the next chapter where I’ve been stumped on how the new couple felt for one another. There was just no capturing their chemistry. The morning has definitely provided abundant inspiration.
Romance has never been my forte, probably from my nonexistent experience with it in my personal life. I’ve always skated over the relationships of my characters, adding enough sharp wit to pull the reader in, but the flow of crime and mystery has always come easily. Not sure what that says about me as a person…
But today some wall has toppled down and the words are coming faster than I can type them. It’s freeing and I’m so consumed with story, I don’t notice the day disappearing into night and then continuing on to another morning.
Somewhere near dawn, I pause long enough to shower and catch a few hours’ sleep, and then I’m back in front of the computer.
*****
His touch confused Margo. That alone should have been enough of a warning to stay away from the dangerous man. Instead, that electric caress acted like a lure and piqued her interest. She wasn’t naïve. She knew Chance was enigmatic, powerful, dominant… and would surely break her, but darned if it wasn’t tempting.
“The sun is shining and no cloud is in sight! Come out and play!” Jack sings the words from somewhere in the house, breaking the silence that has surrounded me for the last two days.
I ignore his playful tone and keep typing.
Two more sentences have been typed when suddenly my chair is being whisked across the room with my hands still poised in keyboard position.
“Jack!”
“It’s Sunday and you are in desperate need of some vitamin D.” He pulls me from the chair and forces me out of the office, stopping long enough at the computer to hit save and then the power button. At least my friend is considerate to an extent.
“I’m good,” I protest.
“No. You’re pasty. Time to crawl out of the cave for a while.”
“I’ve been to the beach twice this week, I’ll have you know.” I yank my arm out of his grasp.
“Before the poor sun even rose.” He pouts his lips out. “That’s unholy. Now go put on a bikini to right your sin.” He has the audacity to shove me into the bedroom.
I whirl around and pop his bare chest. “Watch it.”
Jack ignores me as usual and shoos me toward the closet. “Hurry up. I’m gonna go drag a few chairs down to the water.” He struts out of the room.
Once he shuts the door, I take a step inside the closet, figuring I might as well unearth a swimsuit and keep allowing the world to boss me around for another day.
Ten minutes later, I stomp outside and am instantly blinded by the brilliance of the sun. My hand shoots up to shield my eyes. Bright light! Bright light! My inner Gizmo squeals. It’s a Gremlins reference. Look it up.
After allowing my sensitive eyes to adjust, I find Jack lounging by the shore with his arms above his head. He looks to be posing for a tanning ad. No doubt, he’s intriguing enough it would sell the concept to even a vampire. I plop in the chair beside him and kick my feet up.
He cracks one eye open. “Nice skirt… if you’re playing tennis. That suit doesn’t right your iniquity.”
“What’s with you and all of the spiritual references this morning?”
Jack hands me a bottle of high-powered sunblock with a hint of bronzer, knowing my pale skin will burn to a crisp without it. “First off, morning has been gone for a few hours now. Secondly, my parents are visiting and requested I attend church this morni
ng with them. Thirdly, you need to explain the granny suit.”
We were both raised in church on an extreme level. It was written in sacred stone to be at church every time the doors were open. People would slide on their holy masks before entering and quickly slipped them back off after shaking the pastor’s hand at the end of service. They also had a ridiculous set of rules they expected everyone to adhere to—no dancing, no drinking, no cursing—funny how I’ve never been able to find those holy no-no’s in my Bible, but whatever. The fakeness and man-made rules held no appeal, so we both veered away from church after moving out of our parents’ homes.
“Harper.” Jack snaps his fingers close to my ear, pulling me from my thoughts.
“What?”
He flicks the hem of the bathing suit skirt. “Answer for your sin.”
I smooth the black ruffle back down. It’s not as bad as he’s making it out to be. The tankini has a halter-top and shows a respectable amount of cleavage. “Thunder-thighs need coverage.”
Jack scoffs. “I won’t even dignify that idiotic notion with a response.”
“Whatever.”
“Last word.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Whatever.”
Instead of continuing our childish banter, Jack huffs and closes his eyes. I grin in victory as I pop open the bottle, bring it to my nose, and inhale the coconut scent it releases.
“Weirdo.”
“Call me what you will.” I coat my skin with the tropical smelling lotion, loving how it mingles with the briny air to produce the trademark perfume of summer.
“I take it from the typing frenzy I just witnessed, Maxine has you on a tight deadline.”
“No. That’s one of my other books.” I toss the bottle into the caddy on the back of the lounge chair and try to relax.
“Do I get to read it?”
