He went through the weights with her. Showed her the proper way to lift the weights and to extend her muscles. Instructed her on each machine and made notes in her personal log about her stamina. Which embarrassed her. She was used to being good at things, but she was out of shape and pretty darned sweaty and tired by the time she was done.
But she’d be damned if she let that get to her. No, she’d work her ass off to get it in shape because she said she would. And anyway, it would keep her from obsessing about her lack of a love life.
Of course, it did help that he looked so darned good. It was easy to mentally wander off to her happy place while her muscles screamed for mercy. For his part, he hadn’t flirted at all, had kept his behavior professionally genial. Still though, he smelled good and when he leaned over her to adjust the weights on what she thought of as the thigh buster, she wanted to take a bite out of him.
“You’re done for tonight. This will be your workout on Mondays and Fridays. Wednesdays and Saturdays you’ll do aerobic exercise. We’ll go for a run on Wednesday morning before work as planned and Saturdays I’ve got a bike ride set up for my clients who are interested. This week I thought the lake trail would be good. I can get an idea of where you’re all at stamina wise. And then I’ll set up individual appointments with you as necessary. Have you ever tried kickboxing or rowing?”
She just stared at him for long moments until he laughed. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ve just realized I’m paying you to kill me.”
“You’re paying me to extend your life, Olivia. Now go on. I’ll see you Wednesday morning at six. I’ll swing by your place to pick you up. You okay to walk home?”
“It’s five blocks. People are still out and about and it’s Petal.” She softened a bit.
“But thank you, I appreciate your asking.”
“Okay then. Take it slow, don’t dawdle but let your muscles cool down.”
Liv had the foolish need to kiss him goodbye but a new client came in. A female one who giggled at him. Gnashing her teeth, Liv remembered herself, pokered up and waved quickly before leaving.
As she walked home, she gave herself a stern talking to about this new infatuation with Marc Chase. She needed to keep in mind who Marc was. No, what Marc was. A very nice, very flirty guy. She wasn’t anything more than another woman to wink at. A woman six years older than he was. She wasn’t Mrs. Robinson and he wasn’t what she was looking for, even if he was interested in her romantically, which he wasn’t.
It was a fun, flirty friendship. Period. End of sentence. She’d be a fool to entertain anything other than that. And Liv Davis may be staring spinsterhood in the face but she was not a fool.
Chapter Three
Liv sat eating her lunch at The Sands, looking out onto Main Street. It was a Wednesday, she’d had a good run that morning with Marc. Even though it had been a month and he didn’t need to run with her every week any more, he still did, said it kept him healthy too.
Wasn’t like she was going to complain. She liked hanging out with him. When she’d been going out with Matt, Marc was the saucy little brother. She knew him but only as someone to say hello to on the street and to talk to about shallow topics at Sunday dinner.
She never got to actually know the Marc Chase who cared deeply about physical fitness and nutrition. The Marc who was a lot deeper than she’d given him credit for.
“Are those potato chips on your plate?”
Speak of the devil. Liv looked up into those gorgeous green eyes and blushed.
“Yes. Baked, not fried. I swear. And I asked for half an order. No mayo on the sandwich and you can see it’s nine grain bread.”
Laughing he slid into the booth across from her. “Good job. Trans fats are the worst. And anyway, if you use all your calories up on crap, you can’t have smothered pork chops for Sunday dinner.”
That was another thing. He cared about eating right and living healthy but not in a fanatical sense. He enjoyed life and wanted his clients to as well.
“I save my weekly splurge for Friday nights at The Pumphouse.”
He laughed. “I have to do extra time on the rowing machine for chili cheese fries.”
She only barely managed to bite back a comment about how good his stomach looked as he used the rowing machine. Flex and release, flex and release, the muscles in his abdomen were hard and toned and she squirmed a little in her seat as she thought about it.
“Can I join you? I haven’t had lunch yet.”
She nodded and he ordered. There was something about him that made her feel relaxed. Well, stuff about him that made her feel nervous and edgy too but that was the lack of sex. It had been six weeks since she’d had sex and she felt like she was going insane with the stress. And the marvelous hunk of man cake in front of her just ached to be licked from head to toe.
A giggle bubbled up before she could stop it. The lack of sex really was driving her mad.
“What’s so funny?” Marc’s smile was infectious and she laughed again.
“Nothing. Just a silly thought I had that I’m not going to share.”
“Ah. A sex thought. About me I bet. I know I have plenty about you. I can say that since we’re not working now,” he added.
“You’re incorrigible. I’m old enough to be your, um, babysitter.”
“Trust me, Olivia. Momma left us with a few babysitters here and there, not very often, you know, because they never came back after the first time. But none of them looked like you. We might have behaved if they did.”
But she’d be damned if she let that get to her. No, she’d work her ass off to get it in shape because she said she would. And anyway, it would keep her from obsessing about her lack of a love life.
Of course, it did help that he looked so darned good. It was easy to mentally wander off to her happy place while her muscles screamed for mercy. For his part, he hadn’t flirted at all, had kept his behavior professionally genial. Still though, he smelled good and when he leaned over her to adjust the weights on what she thought of as the thigh buster, she wanted to take a bite out of him.
“You’re done for tonight. This will be your workout on Mondays and Fridays. Wednesdays and Saturdays you’ll do aerobic exercise. We’ll go for a run on Wednesday morning before work as planned and Saturdays I’ve got a bike ride set up for my clients who are interested. This week I thought the lake trail would be good. I can get an idea of where you’re all at stamina wise. And then I’ll set up individual appointments with you as necessary. Have you ever tried kickboxing or rowing?”
She just stared at him for long moments until he laughed. “What?”
“Nothing. I’ve just realized I’m paying you to kill me.”
“You’re paying me to extend your life, Olivia. Now go on. I’ll see you Wednesday morning at six. I’ll swing by your place to pick you up. You okay to walk home?”
“It’s five blocks. People are still out and about and it’s Petal.” She softened a bit.
“But thank you, I appreciate your asking.”
“Okay then. Take it slow, don’t dawdle but let your muscles cool down.”
Liv had the foolish need to kiss him goodbye but a new client came in. A female one who giggled at him. Gnashing her teeth, Liv remembered herself, pokered up and waved quickly before leaving.
As she walked home, she gave herself a stern talking to about this new infatuation with Marc Chase. She needed to keep in mind who Marc was. No, what Marc was. A very nice, very flirty guy. She wasn’t anything more than another woman to wink at. A woman six years older than he was. She wasn’t Mrs. Robinson and he wasn’t what she was looking for, even if he was interested in her romantically, which he wasn’t.
It was a fun, flirty friendship. Period. End of sentence. She’d be a fool to entertain anything other than that. And Liv Davis may be staring spinsterhood in the face but she was not a fool.
Chapter Three
Liv sat eating her lunch at The Sands, looking out onto Main Street. It was a Wednesday, she’d had a good run that morning with Marc. Even though it had been a month and he didn’t need to run with her every week any more, he still did, said it kept him healthy too.
Wasn’t like she was going to complain. She liked hanging out with him. When she’d been going out with Matt, Marc was the saucy little brother. She knew him but only as someone to say hello to on the street and to talk to about shallow topics at Sunday dinner.
She never got to actually know the Marc Chase who cared deeply about physical fitness and nutrition. The Marc who was a lot deeper than she’d given him credit for.
“Are those potato chips on your plate?”
Speak of the devil. Liv looked up into those gorgeous green eyes and blushed.
“Yes. Baked, not fried. I swear. And I asked for half an order. No mayo on the sandwich and you can see it’s nine grain bread.”
Laughing he slid into the booth across from her. “Good job. Trans fats are the worst. And anyway, if you use all your calories up on crap, you can’t have smothered pork chops for Sunday dinner.”
That was another thing. He cared about eating right and living healthy but not in a fanatical sense. He enjoyed life and wanted his clients to as well.
“I save my weekly splurge for Friday nights at The Pumphouse.”
He laughed. “I have to do extra time on the rowing machine for chili cheese fries.”
She only barely managed to bite back a comment about how good his stomach looked as he used the rowing machine. Flex and release, flex and release, the muscles in his abdomen were hard and toned and she squirmed a little in her seat as she thought about it.
“Can I join you? I haven’t had lunch yet.”
She nodded and he ordered. There was something about him that made her feel relaxed. Well, stuff about him that made her feel nervous and edgy too but that was the lack of sex. It had been six weeks since she’d had sex and she felt like she was going insane with the stress. And the marvelous hunk of man cake in front of her just ached to be licked from head to toe.
A giggle bubbled up before she could stop it. The lack of sex really was driving her mad.
“What’s so funny?” Marc’s smile was infectious and she laughed again.
“Nothing. Just a silly thought I had that I’m not going to share.”
“Ah. A sex thought. About me I bet. I know I have plenty about you. I can say that since we’re not working now,” he added.
“You’re incorrigible. I’m old enough to be your, um, babysitter.”
“Trust me, Olivia. Momma left us with a few babysitters here and there, not very often, you know, because they never came back after the first time. But none of them looked like you. We might have behaved if they did.”
