Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Anger gets me nowhere.
I need to focus. If Sebastian has a plan, I can give this two weeks. I can give Evangeline the time she claims to need to keep herself safe from whatever goons she thinks are out to kill her.
God, so much I don’t know. How the hell did we end up getting into something deeper? Didn’t we do enough of that twenty years ago?
I punch again, creating a rhythm as I focus on the physical sensation of striking the vinyl bag. Sweat emerges on my brow, and still I keep going. Keep punching. Keep—
“Hi there.”
I turn toward the female voice. Heather stands in the gym, wearing a skimpy blue sports bra and black yoga pants.
She takes out her earbuds. “I’m sorry to interrupt you. I can work out later if you want to be alone.”
I wipe my forehead and slick back my hair. “Not a problem. The gym is open to everyone.” I take in a deep breath and attempt to redirect my thoughts. No reason for Heather to know how frustrated I am. “How are you? Are you enjoying your time here?”
She smiles as she approaches me. “Hell, yeah. A tropical island, great food and drink, luxurious living, and four hunky men? What’s not to love?”
I return her smile. Or try to. She’s a beautiful woman, in an unconventional way. I don’t normally go for unnatural hair colors, but the blue tips work for her. And that viper tattoo on her shoulder. Again, not my thing, but on her? Sexy as hell. As is her amazing rack.
I don’t want to continue punching with her here, but I could go for some strength training. “You want to work out together?” I ask. “I’m going to do some lifting.”
“Absolutely. I could use a spotter. I want to try to go a little heavier today on my bench press.” She heads toward the bench and adds some weight plates to a barbell. “I bench about seventy, but I want to try seventy-five today.”
“That’s high for a woman,” I tell her. “I’m impressed.”
She laughs. “Let’s see if I can do it first.” She lies down on the bench and grips the barbell firmly.
I position my hands near the barbell without touching it. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”
She takes a deep breath and nods. “Ready. I’m going to try for eight reps.”
I shadow the barbell with my hands as she lifts. “Good, Heather. That’s it. Keep your form tight.”
She powers through the first few reps with ease. Around the fifth rep, I notice the barbell wobbling slightly. “You've got this. Stay strong,” I say without touching the barbell.
By the seventh rep, her arms are trembling.
“Last one. You can do it.”
She pushes through the last rep, and I help her guide the barbell back onto the rack. “Excellent,” I say.
She sits up, breathing heavily. “Wow. That was fucking hard. But having you here helped, River. You motivated me.”
“Glad to do it. You’re pretty damned impressive. You want to try again?”
She stands and stretches her arms. “I do.”
“All right. Take a few minutes to rest, and we’ll go again.”
She takes a long drink from her water bottle and then towels off her forehead. Then she looks me over. “So you’re a lifter? I thought those burly muscles came from ranch work.”
“They do. But on days when I can’t be out in the sunshine, I have to maintain this body in other ways. Plus, my ranch hands do most of the heavy work, though I’ve been known to put in a day of pure manual labor every now and then. Keeps me sane.”
“Nothing like getting physical to keep your brain healthy,” she agrees. “I’m ready.”
I spot her for another set. This time it’s a bit more difficult for her, but she powers through, and I’m impressed. I can’t imagine Emily or Rachel pressing seventy-five pounds. Definitely not Misty. That woman has never lifted a finger in her life.
Heather manages one more set after her second, but only gets to the sixth rep.
“Shit,” she says, rising from the bench.
“Don’t be hard on yourself. That was amazing for your first time with a new weight. You did great.”
“What can I help you with?” she asks.
She can hardly spot me while I press two-fifty. “Why don’t we do core work?” I say. “I’ll show you some variations on the plank.”
“Ugh. I hate planks.”
“Who doesn’t? But they’re important.”
She sighs. “You’re right. “Let’s go.”
We work out together for another half hour, moving from planks to dumbbells and then cooling down with some stretches. She’s flirty but not overly so, which I actually appreciate. It feels natural. Like I can forget for a moment that we’re all playing a game here.
“Whew,” Heather says once we’re done. “I needed that.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah.” She chugs more water and wipes her mouth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but these last couple days have been… I don’t know. I don’t want to say stressful, but…”