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“Okay.” She pulled out a water bottle and a peanut butter shake. Drinking a long sip of water, she watched him doing tricep dips. It was lovely. She fancied striated triceps as much as any muscle on the human body. Zeke’s triceps were very nicely formed. He was dishy—pretty and beautiful.
If she told Zeke he was pretty or beautiful, would he slam her to the ground like he had Blaine? No. Zeke wouldn’t hurt her, but she wouldn’t mind him pinning her down like he had on the twin bed earlier.
Her mouth was dry as she studied him, and she let her mind wander to daydreams about teasing him that he was beautiful and him reacting in some beautiful ways. She was sweating as if she were still working out. She had to drink more water and fan her face.
He took a break, noticed her fanning her face, and wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his forearm. “We should’ve brought some of those hand towels down.”
“Good idea. We will tomorrow.” She smiled at him. Her fanning her face had little to do with needing a workout towel. “We also should’ve sterilized the place after Blaine was in here.”
That got him to smile at her. Then he went back to dips. She opened the protein shake and took a swig. It wasn’t bad. She followed a few more sips with a long drink of water.
He finished the set of dips and she wanted to get him talking. “So … the lemon candy thing.”
His gaze darted to hers. She could see he was apprehensive and thought she was backing him into a corner. Maybe she was.
“I didn’t know Americans fancied lemon candy.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know about other people, but when I was a kid, a lady at church used to give me lemon candy if I’d sit still.”
“I bet you hated to sit still and you were always in trouble.”
“Always in trouble,” he agreed.
“I bet you were the cutest little boy.”
He stared at her, eyes shuttered. Then he went back to his dips. Had she said something wrong? Maybe he hated compliments as much as he hated being touched?
She nursed her protein shake and watched him. She could watch him all day.
He finished his set and straightened, stretching his arms behind his back and making his chest and arm muscles pop. He wasn’t even trying to capture her, but he was doing a bang-up job of owning her thoughts and her cravings.
“Where did you grow up?” she asked.
“Midwest,” he said, seeming a bit put out that she’d ask.
Mia wasn’t one to back down. “What was the lady’s name who gave you lemon candy?”
He stared at her for a ruddy long time. Then he walked to the fridge, walking a wide arc around her, and grabbed a water bottle and a chocolate protein shake. It didn’t appear he had any plans to answer her question. She decided to wait him out. He drank from the water and then chugged half the shake. She found it fascinating to watch his smooth neck bob and his body all glistening and tough after his workout.
Lowering the drink and meeting her gaze, he said shortly, “Hendrickson.”
She stared at him. “Your name is Hendrickson.”
“No.” He half-smiled and then he finished the protein shake, threw it in the garbage, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “The sweet old lady. Lemon candy. Her last name was Hendrickson.”
“Was she related to you?”
“No.” His jaw worked, and she could tell he was hiding something. He met her gaze, and she was amazed to see that his guard was down and his eyes were bluer than she’d ever seen them. “I took her name. When I ran away from home at eighteen, I changed my name before I enrolled in the Navy. I took her last name, and I took Zeke from a football coach who was an absolute stud. I can’t believe I just told you that.” He pushed out a frustrated breath, drank some water, and then met her gaze. His look was scared and yet brave. He clearly waited for her to judge him, but she found her heart breaking for him instead. Ran away from home? What could she say? What would help him? What would push him away?
“You ran away and changed your name … so your parents wouldn’t find you?”
He nodded shortly, his body tight. She wished she could massage his shoulders but doubted that would go over well.
“Were your parents … not nice to you?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
Horror filled her. His parents had hurt him. Her heart ached for a younger, not tough, and scared Zeke. She wanted to comfort him and hold him, but he wouldn’t even look at her.
