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“Is that why you went from frisky to pissy this morning? Because you think I’m romantically involved with Tim?” The craziness of it all made her laugh until she snorted, the sound drawing a slight smile from Sam. Finally. She caught her breath and released it on a sigh. “Tim and I are best friends who share a child. On occasion, we share a roof. We’re a family, but we’re not a couple. You could’ve asked me about it over breakfast.”
“I should have. Sometimes I’m a jackass.”
“I think that goes with having a penis.” She bit the inside of her cheek. Too late, though, he’d already seen her smile.
And taken it as an invitation, apparently. In a blink, he had her boxed against the wall, a strong, muscular arm on either side of her head. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
“I don’t think we should, Sam. Last night we pretended our ages aren’t important, but this morning’s incident in the kitchen proves we’re at different places in life. I’m past guessing games, misunderstandings, and drama, even in my casual relationships.”
“Maybe yourold ageis affecting your memory.” He trailed his fingers down her neck and along her collarbone. “Because there was no pretending going on between us last night.”
If she didn’t break free of his touch in the next five seconds, she was totally going to cave. “I really have to get to work.” She shimmied left, away from his wayward fingers, but he blocked her by putting his lips on the shell of her ear. A most effective tactic, as he knew well after their night together. “Sam, I have to make buttercream icing.” Oh God, his tongue, teasing that spot below her earlobe. She could barely breathe. “And do fondant.”
“I don’t have a clue what ‘doing fondant’ means, but you make it sound sexy as hell.”
Her brain was saying “go” but her body was screaming “go for it.” Her brain got enough activity. Her body, certain parts in particular, had catching up to do.
“Okay. Dinner. Now Ireallyhave to get to the shop.”
He let her slip beneath his arm, only to snag her around the waist and drag her up against him. “Tonight’s too far away.”
Every inch of her body heated to the melting point. Because of his strong arms wrapped around her, his palms splayed over her ass, yes, but also from his eyes. He didn’t shutter them like so many men. Men of all ages, not just younger ones.
Well, crap. She’d accused him of immature, dramatic behavior, but she’d been equally guilty. If she’d had a minute’s patience, or had simply come out and asked him what was on his mind, odds were he’d have told her. Since their first personal training session, she’d known Sam to be upfront. Also, spontaneous and carefree. She could certainly use a dose of that in her life.
“Sorry for getting my panties in a knot.”
His chuckle tickled her ear, sent vibrations all the way to her toes. “I have a solution for that. I’ll show you later.”
Oh, she just bet he would. Sam was right—tonight was too far away.
* * *
SAM
“Great work, Marguerite. Excellent form.”Sam kept his hands close to his client’s arms as she finished her final set of military presses with the five-pound dumbbells. “And you’re done.” He relieved her of the weights and handed her a towel, smiling as she dabbed at her temple. “I think you’re ready to take things up a notch next time. How do you feel about that?”
“I still can’t believe you have me doing these things.” She slid her fine-boned hand into his and allowed him to help her to her feet. Once she’d steadied herself, she withdrew her hand, using it to push her tightly curled hair into place—even though it hadn’t moved during her training session. “Yes, I do believe I’m ready for whatever you’ve got planned. Bring it on, as you young people say.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll have a new plan ready for your next session.”
“I’m not sure if I’m excited or terrified about that.”
“You’re excited,” he said, walking her to the change room with a hand at her elbow. “A woman with your gumption doesn’t get terrified.”
“Flatterer.”
“Just calling it like I see it, Marguerite.”
His most senior client patted his arm before taking the final steps—unaided—to the women’s dressing room.
He stopped by the cardio machines to chat with a couple of members. Casual conversation and encouragement, sure, but mainly he wanted to be near the ladies’ room when Marguerite reappeared.
She’d come a long way since her first day at Focus Fitness, when she’d walked through the front door, using a cane and her granddaughter’s arm for support. Three months later, she barely needed the cane. Made him damn proud. Of her, and of the club Brian was building. The clubtheywere building.
He excused himself from a convo about last night’s ball game—of which he hadn’t seen an inning—and headed for his client. He offered his arm and she took it, shaking her head as she did.
“Such fussing over me. You do realize I’m too old for you.”
