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Rhett waited for the usual.You need to get laid.
“You need fresh blood. A new project to sink your teeth into. A superstar teenager who could make the Olympics. Something like that.”
“You know what you need?”
Hobbs’s smile didn’t fade while he waited for the punch line.
“A kick in the ass.”
Hobbs bent over and stuck his rock-hard butt in the air. He puckered his lips. “Only if you do it, big boy.”
“Get away from me.”
As Hobbs burst into laughter and headed for the office, Samuel failed his third warm-up jerk. The barbell slammed into the jerk blocks so hard everyone in the gym—which was about twenty stay-at-home moms doing boot camp—gasped and snapped their heads toward the weight-lifting area.
“I think I warmed up too quick,” Samuel said, his long face sheepish.
“Ya think?” Rhett sighed. His leg ached. He was going to need more coffee to get through this day.
“Hey, Rhett.” One of the boot camp ladies strolled by, her ass hanging out of a pair of booty shorts that were a size too small. “When can I get a private lesson?” She sipped from her water bottle, which left a ring of pink lipstick around the nozzle.
Rhett nodded toward Zoe, his most reliable coach, high-fiving the rest of the ladies who had just finished their workout. She was young, fit, stronger than most of the men and had an infectious personality. “Check with Zoe.”
The woman—Candy? Caty? Corey?—thrust out her chest. Her cleavage sported a sheen of sweat. “I was hoping you could do it. I like the boot camp but I’m really interested in learning the barbell. I want to learn it right.”
“Zoe’s USAW certified,” Rhett said. “You go through her Level 1 before you move on to Levels 2 and 3. I do mostly Level 3, some Level 2 on a case-by-case basis.”
“Okay.” The woman twirled a piece of her dark hair around her finger. “I’ll check with Zoe, then.” She turned with a little huff and grabbed her baby backpack from the floor.
“Jeez, dude.” Hobbs hadn’t quite made it to the office yet. “Can’t you tell when a chick is hitting on you?” He watched the woman walk with determined strides toward the exit.
“Yes.” Rhett followed Hobbs’s gaze. Kitty. That was her name. “I can.”
“You’re made of stone.”
“I’m particular,” Rhett countered. “She gives fifty percent every workout. She’s here more for the social hour than the exercise. She’s got those fake nails.” Rhett gave a creeped-out shiver. “And, most important, she’s a client.”
“And you take everything too seriously. You don’t have to fall in love with her. Just go on a date and have some fun.”
Rhett stiffened. He glared at Hobbs, who knew he’d gone too far. “You got somewhere to be?”
“I sure do. Like, right now. Far, far away from you.” Hobbs shook his head. “Man of steel,” he repeated as he walked away.
Rhett ran his fist over the scarring on his right leg and winced. If only that were true.
“Leg still being a pain in the ass?”
Rhett knew that voice. He hadn’t heard it in months. He turned around and his mouth spread into a slow smile. “Callahan. You lazy SOB. How long’s it been?”
Sean offered a sheepish grin. “Two months?”
“Try four.” Rhett knew exactly how long it had been since Sean had been in for a workout. “And you’re getting the soft belly to prove it.” Rhett couldn’t actually see Sean’s abs at the moment. He was wearing a winter jacket over his shorts and Semper Fit T-shirt. But he’d known Sean long enough to know there was a soft spot for the doughnuts that stereotyped the police world.
Sean rubbed his middle. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m carrying a little extra. But—” he dropped his gym bag on the floor and peeled off his coat “—I’m here.”
“Guess you’ve been too busy catching thieves to keep in shape, huh?” Rhett nodded toward the main area of the gym, where the first evening class was starting to gather. “We’ve missed you.”
“I’ve texted so many times. Invited you out with the guys. You never come.”
