by J. Kenner
*
"More, please, Matthew. One more chapter?"
Hannah stood inside the kitchen, just out of sight of the living room where Matthew was reading a Magic Treehouse book to five-year-old Faith, Brent Sinclair's little girl. An owner and head of security for The Fix on Sixth, Brent was also a single dad. Hannah wasn't sure if he was working tonight or if he had a date. All she knew was that Selma had been on deck when they arrived, and she'd flashed Hannah a thumbs-up sign when Hannah and Matthew had taken over babysitting.
Or, rather, when Matthew had. Babysitting wasn't high on Hannah's list of skills. Matthew, however, was a natural. A fact he proved as he negotiated with the little girl for another chapter, eliciting a solemn promise that bedtime would follow.
"Okay," he said when the chapter was over. "Now go run in and say goodnight to Miss Hannah. I bet you can even get a glass of milk from her."
Hannah smiled and went to pour the milk, then accepted the enthusiastic hug. Faith took the cup, downed a huge gulp of milk, then went running back to Matthew.
As the two of them headed to Faith's bedroom, Hannah brought a bottle of wine to the coffee table, along with two glasses.
"That's a good idea," Matthew said when he returned. He sat next to her and began to pour the wine. "Hard to believe someone so tiny can run you so ragged."
"You're really great with her," Hannah said.
"Well, she's a good kid. Brent's a lucky man. Except..."
She shifted to look at him better. "What?"
"It's just ... well, I hope he doesn't stay alone for long. Other than that, his life looks a lot like the one I dream about."
"Really?" She shifted on the couch so she could see him better. "How so?"
"The full meal deal. Friends. A house. Kids. I want a wife, but still, Brent's got a lot more of the puzzle in place than I do."
"You didn't mention your job."
"Oh, that's important too. I have to support them, right? But I'm not much of a businessman."
She thought about his three gyms around Austin and almost argued the point. But instead, she asked, "If that's what you want, then why aren't you dating someone? Or married, for that matter?" The question was sincere, but there was an emotion underscoring it that she almost didn't recognize. Relief that he wasn't involved with someone else? Jealously that the someone might not be her?
Seriously, what was going on with her?
She took a sip of wine to clear her head, then realized he hadn't answered the question. "Matthew? I'd like to know. Why don't you have a woman in your life?"
"Think of it as the opposite of what I told your dad. Most women want more than a high school dropout who can't even manage to keep three low-overhead gyms going."
She'd lifted her glass, but now she set it back down again. "What are you talking about? I thought your locations were doing great? Hell, I thought you were thinking about franchising."
He sighed. "I'm making it sound more doom and gloom than it really is. My business is doing fine--it's only one location that's not pulling its weight, and I think I may have to give up on it before it brings down my overall bottom line."
"That sounds like a smart plan. Is that why you're not going to franchise?"
He shook his head. "My idea was to grow my business. And once I had three, I thought, why not franchise? Dozens, maybe even hundreds of Herrington Gyms."
"I'm not seeing a problem."
He lifted a shoulder. "I love what I do, but I want time that isn't just about my work. I want the family, too. The whole deal. And I'm not sure I can have that if I'm watching over a hundred gyms across the country."
"A lot of people make it work. Family. High powered careers."
"Maybe they do. But that's--well, honestly, I'm not most people."
"No," she said softly. She thought about all the attorneys and businessmen who traveled weekly and who wouldn't file a brief or a report without analyzing it or revising it to perfection. Had they put as much thought into their families as this man? "You're really not."
"What about you?" he asked. "Relationship? Career?"
"I haven't thought a lot about it, honestly. Except the career. I worked so long in a job I didn't love that I'm willing to spend the time to build up the practice Easton and I are putting together."
She took a sip of wine, then turned to him. "I guess I'm not as well-balanced as you are."
She thought he would laugh, but instead he just held her gaze. "I think you're pretty much perfect," he said softly.
"Oh." Their eyes locked, and she swallowed. Slowly, she put her glass down, then rested her palm on his thigh. He stiffened, and she was certain that he'd felt the shock of connection cut through him just as it had her. "Matthew," she said, but before the name even left her lips, he'd pulled her to him, closing his mouth over hers.
She swallowed a moan, opening her mouth to the kiss and her whole body to him. Flames kindled inside her, and she surrendered to him, wanting so much more. Hell, wanting everything he could give her.
He deepened the kiss, his palm on the back of her neck, his tongue tasting her, claiming her, until she thought she would melt in his embrace. Her body sizzled, craved, and when he gently pulled away, breaking the kiss, she almost cried out with frustration.
"We can't," he said. "Not here. Not while I'm babysitting." His eyes were dark with desire, and she could almost feel the desire rolling off him. Still, he shook his head, his breath coming hard. "We just can't. It's too damn cliche."
She wanted to argue--to tell him Faith wouldn't wake up--but she found herself nodding agreement. "If not now, when?"
She bit her lip, almost afraid he'd tell her the answer was never. But to her immense relief, he said, "Go out with me tomorrow?"
"I--yes. Of course."
His mouth curved into a smile. "Good. I'll pick you up at seven."
Chapter Eleven
Matthew couldn't remember ever being so nervous for a date. Which was absurd, all things considered. After all, he knew even before he drove to her condo to pick her up that this was the kind of date that was for fun only. There were no expectations of a future. No hoping that something would develop.
This was about sex and attraction and nothing more.
After all, she'd made it quite clear that she wasn't looking for a relationship; she was putting all her energy into re-building a career that had gotten off track over the years.
He could respect that. Hell, he did respect that.
And yet despite his own rules about not dating if there was no chance for a future, he was as a nervous as a teenage boy taking a girl to the movies for the very first time.
Why?
Because despite her clarity, he still wanted her. Wanted to sizzle from that electricity that always seemed to arc between them. Wanted to talk and joke with her. Wanted to share the world with her, and then kiss her senseless and not think about anything at all.
Maybe he wasn't self-aware enough, but he honestly didn't know if he was giving in to his own desire and surrendering to the allure of a sexual relationship despite her assurance that there was no hope for a real future. Or if he was deluding himself into thinking that she'd change her mind. That she'd felt something real between them, too, and wanted to explore it.
He didn't know. And, damn him, tonight he didn't care. Tonight, he just wanted her. And there were real butterflies in his stomach when he rang the buzzer for access to her condo.
She opened the door with a smile so wide it sparked his soul. "You look great," she said, her words echoing his thoughts. As far as he was concerned, he looked like he always did. Jeans. A tee. Nothing special. She, however, was a vision. She'd tied her hair back with a scarf, but loose tendrils had escaped to frame her face, giving her a carefree vibe that was accentuated by the knit sundress she wore that clung to her breasts and waist before flaring out in a swirl of material that flowed around her ankles.
"You're stunning," he said, delighted when her smile widened i
n response.
"Do you want to come in?"
"Actually, we're on a schedule."
"Yeah?" Her brows rose, but she didn't ask. Instead, she slipped on a pair of sandals and stepped into the hall, pulling the door shut behind them. Soon, they were back in his car and on their way to one of the docks beneath the MoPac bridge. He parked, then headed to the small wooden shack where one of his clients, Jose, stood waiting.
"Hey, buddy," Jose called. "You're all set."
"We're going out in a canoe?" she asked.
"Unless you're afraid of the water?"
She shook her head. "No, it sounds great."
"You picked a good night for it," Jose said, as he showed them to the canoe, which had a small ice chest already packed per Matthew's instructions, as well as a couple of blankets in case the early September night grew chilly.
"I'll lock her back up for you," Matthew said, and Jose nodded. Usually, he required the canoes to be returned by nine-fifteen. But Matthew had enlisted his friend in a different plan.
"Do you want me to row?" Hannah asked once they were in the canoe and on the river.
"I don't want you to do anything except sit back and enjoy."
She grinned. "I can do that."
When he was younger, he'd been in a rowing club, and he enjoyed falling back into the steady rhythm of moving the boat through the water. He knew the river intimately, and they moved leisurely toward the east and the Congress Avenue bridge.
"Do you know I've never done this before?" she asked.
"Why not?"
She shook her head. "No idea. I love it, though." She looked around, glancing first toward the grassy shores on the south and then to the trails, marsh, and docks that dotted the more developed north side.
The river--known as Lady Bird Lake now, but Town Lake when he'd been a kid--marked Austin's north-south line. Technically, it was part of the Colorado River, but so were many of the Highland Lakes up river, as they'd been created years ago by either the Corp of Engineers or the Lower Colorado River Authority.
However they'd been formed, the lakes--technically reservoirs--added to the beauty of the Austin area and the Texas Hill Country.
"Do we have a goal?" she asked.
"I'm taking you to the place where Selma and I used to go when we were kids. And hopefully, I got the timing right..."
"Yeah? I'm intrigued."
"You'll probably figure it out," he said as he steered the canoe close to the Congress Avenue Bridge. "And it looks like we're right on time for sunset."
They weren't the only ones under the bridge. A larger boat that offered dinner on deck was moving slowly along the water, and a large flat boat full to the brim with passengers was also moving at a snail's pace.
They'd come, like Matthew and Hannah, to see the bats.
"You've seen them before?" he asked. Austin hosted the largest urban colony of Mexican Free-tail bats in the country, and the critters had become world famous. He doubted she could have lived in Austin and never watched them.
As expected, she nodded. "Several times. But never from the water."
"They live under the bridge," he said. "It's incredible to stand on the bridge and watch them rise up from under you. But from down here..."
He trailed off as the familiar sound began. A small squeaking. A hint of a flutter. And then, through some miracle of nature, they all seemed to wake at the same moment, and thousands of bats who'd been tucked in under the bridge, hidden in crevices or simply camouflaged, left their perches, fell into the open air, and then rose into the purple and orange twilight sky.
From their position in the canoe, half under the bridge, Matthew and Hannah saw it all. He heard her gasp as the cloud of bats swarmed out over their heads, and when he looked at her face, he could see the delight and the wonder.
"That was incredible."
"That's what Selma named her company after. Austin Free-Tail Distillery."
"And her Bat Bourbon," Hannah said, and Matthew nodded. She leaned forward and took his hand. "Thank you. That was amazing."
"We're not done," he told her, then maneuvered the canoe to a small dock that he'd discovered one day. It wasn't in the best shape, but it led to a secluded area in Zilker Park. He tied off the boat, helped Hannah out, then pulled out the ice chest and a blanket.
"I thought a nighttime picnic would be nice."
"That sounds amazing," she agreed as he pulled out pasta salad and fruit, along with crackers, cheese, wine and candles.
They ate by candlelight, sipping wine and talking about their days. She told him about client meetings and statute of limitation issues and an appeal they'd been hired to argue. Her voice when she talked about the research underscoring how much she loved the work, which was enough for him. The actual legal discussion went completely over his head.
"I'm boring you," she said later, pouring him more wine.
"You're not. I'm just not fully on board with the question of whether or not some banking regulation is constitutional."
"Want me to explain?"
"Dear God, please no," he said, making her laugh.
"You know what I want to talk about?"
He laid back on the blanket and took her hand, expecting something sexy or romantic. Instead, she said, "The gym you're thinking about closing."
He rolled over. "You're serious?"
"Where is it? South Congress, right?"
"A couple of miles from here. Why?"
"Let's go see it."
His brows rose. "You realize you're completely changing the tone of my sensual and romantic picnic by the lake." Fortunately, his sister was Selma. And she could bounce from one topic and mood to another faster than anyone on the planet. So he was well-trained to handle wild shifts like this.
She kissed the tip of his nose. "Gyms aren't sensual? Can we walk there? Is the canoe okay tied up?"
"The canoe's fine. But I have a better idea." He helped her up, and they walked the few yards to the road. As they walked, he pulled up a ride share app, and within minutes, they'd been deposited at his South Congress location.
"This is a great space," she said once they were inside.
"I agree. But it's not drawing enough members to justify keeping the doors open."
"I bet it's your location. You're so close to all the shopping on South Congress, and that's geared mostly toward women. Not that women don't work out, but I wonder if this location wouldn't do better as something else."
"Which is why I'm thinking of giving up the lease."
"No, I don't mean leave it to someone else. I mean re-purpose it. You already have two solid gym locations with free weights and machines and personal training. But what if you make this location still be a gym, but switch it up? Spin classes and Pilates and yoga. That kind of thing. You know, draw more women in from the local retailers. Have a juice bar with a happy hour for after work. And twenty-minute classes for lunch breaks. What?" she added, frowning.
"Only that you're amazing."
"Yeah? You like that?"
He did. And it was a testament to his lack of business skill that he hadn't thought of it himself. But now that she'd suggested it, he could see the potential. "I like it a lot," he said, taking a step toward her. "You know what else I like?"
She grinned. "I can guess."
"I'd rather show you." He took her hand and pulled her close, then crushed his mouth to hers before releasing her. "Take off your clothes."
She lifted her brows but didn't argue, and he watched as she stripped, then walked toward him, completely naked.
"Your turn?"
"Nope," he said. "I like this just fine." He nodded toward a bench press, and she didn't even ask what he wanted. Just laid back, her legs on either side, open and wet for him. So wet that he almost came right then.
"Scoot to the end," he said, then got down on his knees and buried his face between her legs. She tasted like heaven, and all he'd intended to do was get her off. But now his cock was aching
, and he had to have her. Had to be inside her.
When he told her so, she moaned. "Yes. Oh, God, please, yes."
"On your knees on the mat," he ordered and she complied without hesitation. "Head down. Oh, baby." He cupped her ass, then freed his cock. This time he'd been smart and put a condom in his wallet, which he now retrieved.
He sheathed himself and slowly stroked the tip of his cock up and down, sliding along the sensitive area between her pussy and her ass.
She whimpered, and the sound made him harder. "Now. Please. Just fuck me now."
How the hell could he deny that? He used his fingers to ready her, then eased his cock in. She was so tight, and he was so ready, and as he pounded into her, he reached around and teased her clit, feeling her muscles convulse around his cock as she got closer and closer. Until finally--incredibly--she went over the edge, her body drawing his cock in so hard and tight that he lost his load at the same time that her knees gave out and she collapsed onto the mat.
"Wow," she said later as she rolled over and straddled him on the mat. "That was amazing. And we really have to clean this place up."
He laughed. "Yeah. We'll take care of that. Later."
"Good," she said, then rolled over and snuggled close, tucking her body against his. He sighed, so content that it made his chest swell. But, dammit, he couldn't let himself get too comfortable?
He started to rise.
"Matthew?"
"I'm sorry. But I--"
She rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows. "What is it?"
Shit. "I just--I know you're not interested in anything serious. I get it. I respect it. But knowing that ... oh, hell, Hannah. I don't want to let things between us get too comfortable."
"Oh." She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. For a moment, she simply sat like that, naked and strong and incongruously vulnerable.
Then she met his eyes, hers full of something that looked like hope. "What if I'm okay with things getting comfortable."
He tilted his head, wary. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I'm not writing us off. That maybe I want more than friends with benefits, or whatever we're calling this."
"Are you sure?" He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the idea that she'd want to explore something permanent with him. She was off arguing about the constitution in courthouses. He was going to spend the next week trying to find the best price on spin bicycles.
