The Shape of You
Personal trainer Rebecca McCall is furious when her coworker is sidelined and she’s forced to teach the “Be Your Best Bride” class. As if being a size two for your wedding photos is all exercise is good for. Could the whole thing get more vain and sexist? The class is full of preening, giggling Bridezillas, but one woman stands out. The one who confesses she’s only there because her fiancée signed her up. Who does that to someone they care about? And why can’t Rebecca take her eyes off her?
Spencer Thompson is a second-guesser. After making the worst mistake of her life, she’s happy to abdicate responsibility and let other people make her decisions for her. She’s always felt a little bit too soft, a little bit too curvy in all the wrong places. Her fiancée apparently agrees because she signed Spencer up for a class at the gym. Terrified by the online profile of the instructor, the epitome of Zero Body Fat, Spencer is relieved to find someone new, and realistic looking, leading the class. Except the instructor seems to hate her and Spencer has no idea why.
When a perfectly innocent post workout smoothie leads to an earth shattering kiss, Rebecca wonders if she’s been wrong all along, and Spencer is challenged to make another decision that could change her life forever.
Praise for Georgia Beers
Blend
“You know a book is good, first when you don’t want to put it down. Second, you know it’s damn good when you’re reading it and thinking, I’m totally going to read this one again. Great read and is absolutely a 5-star romance.”—Front Porch Romance Book Reviews
Right Here, Right Now
“The angst was written well, but not overpoweringly so, just enough for you to have the heart sinking moment of ‘will they make it,’ and then you realize they have to because they are made for each other.”—Les Reveur
What Matters Most
“There’s so much more going on, from the way they flirt to how they each learn who the other really is, the way their feelings come about to how the conflict is resolved and where the relationship is at by the end of the book. All the right romantic elements are there, packaged in a way that kept me interested, surprised, and often smiling.”—The Lesbian Review
A Little Bit of Spice
“As always with Ms Beers’s novels, this is well written and edited, well paced and flowing. Definitely one for the reread pile…in fact, one of my favourites from this author.”—The Lesbian Reading Room
Lambda Literary Award Winner Fresh Tracks
“Georgia Beers pens romances with sparks.”—Just About Write
“[T]he focus switches each chapter to a different character, allowing for a measured pace and deep, sincere exploration of each protagonist’s thoughts. Beers gives a welcome expansion to the romance genre with her clear, sympathetic writing.”—Curve magazine
Finding Home
“Georgia Beers has proven in her popular novels such as Too Close to Touch and Fresh Tracks that she has a special way of building romance with suspense that puts the reader on the edge of their seat. Finding Home, though more character driven than suspense, will equally keep the reader engaged at each page turn with its sweet romance.”—Lambda Literary Review
Mine
“From the eye-catching cover, appropriately named title, to the last word, Georgia Beers’s Mine is captivating, thought-provoking, and satisfying. Like a deep red, smooth-tasting, and expensive merlot, Mine goes down easy even though Beers explores tough topics.”—Story Circle Book Reviews
“Beers does a fine job of capturing the essence of grief in an authentic way. Mine is touching, life-affirming, and sweet.”—Lesbian News Book Review
Too Close to Touch
“This is such a well-written book. The pacing is perfect, the romance is great, the character work strong, and damn, but is the sex writing ever fantastic.”—The Lesbian Review
“In her third novel, Georgia Beers delivers an immensely satisfying story. Beers knows how to generate sexual tension so taut it could be cut with a knife…Beers weaves a tale of yearning, love, lust, and conflict resolution. She has constructed a believable plot, with strong characters in a charming setting.”—Just About Write
The Shape of You
Brought to you by
eBooks from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.
The Shape of You
© 2018 By Georgia Beers. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13:978-1-63555-218-8
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: August 2018
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Lynda Sandoval
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Ann McMan
By the Author
Turning the Page
Thy Neighbor’s Wife
Too Close to Touch
Fresh Tracks
Mine
Finding Home
Starting from Scratch
96 Hours
Slices of Life
Snow Globe
Olive Oil & White Bread
Zero Visibility
A Little Bit of Spice
Rescued Heart
Run to You
Dare to Stay
What Matters Most
Right Here, Right Now
Blend
The Shape of You
Acknowledgments
I’ve always been athletic. I’ve also always been a little bit lazy. But I turned over a new leaf over the past year, for a variety of reasons, and one of the things I decided to focus on was getting fit. So, I hired a trainer, I geared up to hate every session, and I wasn’t terribly optimistic about seeing results. Turns out, I was wrong, wrong, wrong. I have become both stronger and healthier. Plus, I was shocked to find that I actually enjoy going to the gym. Madness! They say art imitates life, and for me, that’s true a lot. I tend to take whatever new thing I’ve discovered in my world and craft it into a book. Fitness training sparked the idea for this one, and I hope you love it.
I want to thank Wayne Haygood, a knowledgeable, big-hearted guy who started out as my trainer and has become my friend. Wayne showed me that exercise and fitness is not only good for the body, but also good for the soul. He helped me to find my lost confidence and to be proud of the woman I’ve become. It was a gift, what he taught me, and I will be forever grateful to him.
Thank you to everybody at Bold Strokes Books, especially to Radclyffe and Sandy Lowe, for always making the book publishing process smooth and easy. I hope they know how much this writer appreciates that!
To my editor extraordinaire, Lynda Sandoval, who does her best (and trust me, it’s not always easy) to teach me while simultaneously making me look good. I am so keeping her.
My pack of writing support has become so large, it’s too much to list everybody individually. Therefore, to my writer friends who cheer me on when I’m having a good writing day and who understand and commiserate with me when I’m feeling like a miserable failure, I say thank you. They know who they are, and there are days I wouldn’t make it through without them, without their
love, understanding, and support. They’re a vital part of my life and my career, and we’re all in this together.
To my family, who always supports me, no matter what. Even after doing this for nearly twenty years (!), my parents still tell me they’re proud of me and remind me whenever they haven’t received the latest book. I’m a really lucky girl, and I know it.
And last, but never, ever least, to you, my readers. Thank you for your encouragement and support through the years. This career can be crazy and unpredictable at times, but the one steady thing is you. Not for the first time, I share this deal with you: I’ll keep writing if you keep reading. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Chapter One
“Son of a billy goat!”
A small, mustard-colored bead rolled off the table and onto the hardwood floor, then bounced several times, the sound of the clicks the only way Spencer Thompson had to keep track of where it went. She set down her round nose pliers and did her best to follow the bead until it settled silently on the area rug somewhere near the chrome and glass coffee table. On her hands and knees, half under the table, Spencer was startled by the slamming of the door and jumped, banging her head with a loud whack.
“What in the world are you doing?” Marti Daniels tossed her attaché onto the couch and looked down at Spencer with an amused grin.
Spencer rubbed the back of her blond head with one hand and held up the small, yellow glass bauble with the other, in pain but victorious. “Lost a bead.” She hauled herself to her feet and sat back in the uncomfortable chair at the tiny workspace she’d set up in the corner of Marti’s town house.
“You should be more careful; those beads will go everywhere. I thought that’s what the board thingy was for. So you don’t lose beads.” Marti spoke on her way to the kitchen, which was visible to Spencer, as was everything else on the first floor in the open-concept living space.
“It is, but I can’t get it to lie flat in this small space.” Spencer said it quietly, moving the bead board here and there as she did every time she lost a bead and tried to readjust her setup. She was pretty certain Marti wasn’t really listening as she poured herself a glass of wine; she tended to get lost in her own head, tuning everybody else out. The fact was, there wasn’t enough room for Spencer to work in that space, but it was all Marti had been willing to relinquish. Spencer’s table was small—maybe two and a half feet square—and she had a myriad of tools and supplies stacked precariously high. Her workspace in her own house was much more comfortable and spacious, and she could spread out. Not for the first time that night, she considered packing up her stuff and just going home.
Marti flopped onto the black leather couch and kicked off her pumps, crossed her feet at the ankles on the coffee table, and blew out a very loud breath. “Man, what a day.”
“Yeah?” Spencer squinted at the wire in her hand as she bent it with the pliers. At home, she had a freestanding magnifying glass to help her see, but not here. Moving her head at different angles to adjust her view, blinking rapidly and squinting, she finally managed to attach the lobster claw clasp.
“God. That Dawson case is going to be the death of me yet.” Marti then launched into details of the case she was working on at her law firm, her biggest since being made partner a couple months ago.
Spencer listened with one ear, as a lot of what Marti said tended to be a reiteration from the previous night’s recap of the previous day. Spencer nodded and uh-huh’d in all the right places as Marti droned on, but her focus was on the necklace she was crafting. Her mother’s birthday was in November, and for as long as Spencer could remember, her mother had always complained about how ugly her birthstone was. November technically had two official birthstones: topaz and citrine. And while topaz came in a range of colors from blue to yellow to red to pink, to Spencer’s mom, November’s birthstone had always been the unimpressive, mustardy-goldish-orange color of citrine. When Spencer started making jewelry as a hobby, she’d vowed to make her mother something featuring citrine that would change her opinion of her birthstone. Now she held the necklace up, a finished product, and smiled. It was of average length—not a choker, but not a long necklace either. She’d alternated the citrine-colored beads with some gunmetal ones with an iridescent finish. It was unique and subtle, and Spencer knew her mother would love it. She turned so Marti could see it.
“Nice,” Marti said, then continued with her recap of a contract case one of the other attorneys was working on without missing a beat.
Spencer sighed quietly and turned back to her supplies. Everything was portable here, but at home, there was a vast array and she missed it. Beads and balls in every imaginable shape, size, and color. Wires of different thicknesses. Tools for a variety of adjustments. Sitting at her crafting table in front of all her materials was about the only place in the world where Spencer felt confident, felt like she had everything under control and was the mistress of her own universe.
“Did you get my email?” Marti asked, yanking Spencer back to the town house. “I sent you a link.”
“I haven’t checked it in a while,” Spencer said, putting things away in their individual spots. Truth was, she’d been focused on the necklace for the better part of three hours, but she wasn’t about to tell Marti that. Marti thought her hobby was a waste of time.
“Well, it starts next week, so make sure you’re ready.” With that Marti got up and grabbed her attaché. She crossed the room, put a finger under Spencer’s chin, and tilted her head up for a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be in my office for a couple hours. Got some things to go over.”
Spencer nodded, watched her go. Marti Daniels was very attractive—tall with dark hair and eyes. Focused. Intelligent. Driven. Confident. Her surety was what had drawn Spencer in the first place. Marti always knew what she wanted and she always got it. That had been intoxicating for a while. Now?
Spencer didn’t like to think about now.
With another sigh, she turned off the desk lamp on her table and stood. She crossed to the kitchen, deciding that Marti’s glass of wine looked good, and poured herself one of her own. Back on the couch, she pulled out her own laptop to check her email and see what Marti had been talking about.
The subject line read simply, Starts Monday.
The body was typical Marti—short and to the point. You’re all registered. Enjoy!
Brow furrowed, Spencer clicked on the link, which brought her to the website of a local gym and the headline of Be Your Best Bride. Her gaze went to the description.
Wedding day getting too close? Worried about fitting into the perfect dress? Want to wow your groom and all your guests? We can help! Join us for this twelve-week group class and get yourself in the best shape of your life! Our own Kara Laughlin will guide you through a mix of yoga, weight training, and cardio to get you fit, fabulous, and sexy so you can be your best bride!
Spencer sat there, blinking. She couldn’t really be too surprised, because she’d seen an ad for the class and had commented on it to Marti. Spencer could use some exercise. She was a little soft in some places; she knew that. But Marti signing her up for the class without even running it by her first made something else painfully clear to Spencer: Marti also thought she could use some exercise.
With a hard swallow, Spencer clicked on the link that took her to the bio of Kara Laughlin. If she was going to actually take this class, she at least wanted to know what she was in for.
The information was not comforting.
Kara Laughlin was tall, blond, and imposing, all sinewy muscle and few curves. The full-length shot of her in skintight workout pants, arms folded over a red sports bra, staring intimidatingly into the camera filled Spencer with the inexplicable urge to hide behind something large. The close-up of just her face showed a woman with intensity, sharp features, and demanding eyes. Spencer had a sudden image of herself on her back on the ground, struggling to do crunches, while Kara Laughlin and her Zero Body Fat frame stood over her shouting angri
ly at her to work harder! Push harder! Move her lazy fat ass!
Spencer was already terrified of her.
She was about to slam the laptop shut when she noticed a clause at the bottom of the description, right next to the—in Spencer’s opinion—exorbitant price: cost refundable if canceled with a week’s notice. Cancellations with less than seven days until class starts are not refundable.
“Well, that seems ridiculous,” Spencer muttered. And now she was stuck. Because it was Thursday and the class began on Monday and there was no way she’d throw away that much of Marti’s money just like that, just because she was beyond intimidated. Apparently, it was important to her fiancée that she attend this class and get herself into better shape, so Spencer would attempt to do so, Fitness Nazi or no Fitness Nazi.
She scanned the rest of the details, punched the start time into her iPhone, and then zipped through the rest of her email, which was mostly ads from stores. Spencer nibbled on the inside of her cheek as she deleted most of them, but held on to a couple from stores she frequented that were having sales. She was going to need some workout apparel if she was going to do this.
With a soft click, she closed her laptop and set it on the coffee table, then picked up her wine and sipped. She enjoyed the quiet like this. No television. No music. Just…silence. A wiggle of her butt helped her burrow a bit further down into the couch cushions. While she would never have spent as much money on one piece of furniture as Marti had on this couch, Spencer couldn’t argue against its comfort. She sometimes thought she liked the couch better than Marti’s bed, had fallen asleep there more than once.
The Shape of You Page 1
