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Authors: Katie Allen

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BOOK: One-Two Punch
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“Congratulations are fine,” Harry said with a short laugh. As nasty as the scene had been, he felt immensely lighter after breaking up with Candice. He should have done it a long time ago, he realized.

Dominic glanced around Harry toward the door. “Looks like someone’s lost. Or she’s trying to sell Girl Scout cookies or something.”

Twisting around, Harry saw a little blonde hovering just inside the doorway.

Charlie, who worked the desk part-time, hadn’t shown up yet, so the front desk was unattended. The blonde was peering around helplessly. She did look lost, Harry mentally agreed with Dominic. She was much too soft and sweet-looking for this place.

As Harry walked toward her, he realized that this was no little girl. She had definite adult curves and an X-rated mouth—a mouth that instantly made him start to sweat.

She was all eyes and lips and tousled blonde curls and Harry was suddenly very, very glad that he had broken up with Candice.

Beth watched him approach. He just grew more and more beautiful, the closer he got to her. His hair was short and almost black and she could see an end-of-the-day shadow on his jaw and cheeks. Her heart thudded, echoing in her ears.

It had taken all the guts she could dredge up to actually walk in and finally meet this man. She had hovered outside for almost fifteen minutes, pushing herself toward the entrance and then scampering away out of sight like the chicken she was. The hotdog vendor across the street had watched in fascination as Beth bounced back and forth—to the door and away, back to the door and away again. She had finally charged through, not giving herself a chance to stop until she had shoved the door open and walked into the gym.

Unfortunately, once she was in, she didn’t know what to do next.

The place was full with the after-work crowd and a few people glanced curiously at her immobile form.
What are you doing here?
her brain screamed. Beth had seen this guy’s type and it sure wasn’t a short, chubby, disheveled, baby-faced blonde.

“Hi,” he rumbled, rough and deep, making the skin vibrate over her spine. She tried to force out a greeting but her voice had frozen and all she could do was stare at him.

His gaze turned quizzical. “Can I help you with something?”

“Yes.” Thank God, a word. It had come out half-squeaky and half-throaty but at least her vocal paralysis had lifted.

He raised an eyebrow.

Right—one word probably wasn’t enough. Okay, what was her plan again? Beth cleared her throat and opened her mouth to desperately shove out something, anything, but before she could make a sound, her dream man was shoved aside by a shorter man with a shaved head, a barrel chest and arms roped with muscles and veins.

“Move over, Harry—important business here. Are you selling Girl Scout cookies?”

the shiny-headed man asked. “If you are, I want some of those coconut ones.”

“Samoas?” Beth asked, startled.

He grinned. “Yes! Do you have them with you or do I have to wait?”

“What? No.” She shook her head, feeling a little like she had been dropped down a rabbit hole. “Sorry, I don’t have any cookies.”

“Oh.” The bald man’s face fell. “Can you bring them by tomorrow?”

“Dominic!” Harry shouldered the shorter man over. “She’s not a Girl Scout. Come on, she’s at least—what?” He looked at Beth inquiringly. “Twenty?”

“Twenty-four,” she answered, dazed. This first visit to the gym was not going as she’d expected. “I turned twenty-four last week.”

Harry grinned at her. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” she responded weakly.

Dominic was looking deeply disappointed. “So no cookies?”

“Enough with the cookies!” Harry bellowed, giving him a shove, and Dominic shuffled back to a weight bench with a final heavy sigh and accusing glance at Beth.

“Why do I feel guilty that I don’t have any cookies?” she murmured to Harry, her eyes on Dominic’s dejected slump on the bench.

Harry shook his head. “Don’t worry about him. He’s been hit in the head a few too many times. What did you need?”

Now there’s a leading question
, Beth thought, her stomach flipping from nerves and excitement. At least she hadn’t thrown up on his shoes. Yet. “I was thinking about joining the gym.”


This
gym?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

Is he on to me?
Beth wondered frantically. Did women come in all the time trying to pick him up this way? Of course they did—how could they not want this gorgeous man? Oh God, she was probably the fiftieth woman today to just “drop in”.

“We don’t have yoga,” he said in a gentle voice, as if she were a little slow.

“Actually,” Beth continued desperately—even if she wasn’t original, she could at least be tenacious, “I was thinking more of boxing?”

He looked startled. “Really?”

“Sure. Just technique and stuff though. If someone really hit me, I’d probably cry and that would be embarrassing…” Her voice trailed off and, feeling silly, she did a weak shadowboxing imitation. “You know, pow, pow?”

Pressing back a grin, Harry gently circled his hands over hers to straighten her wrists and pull her fists up close to her face. “There.”

Watching his amused expression, Beth sighed. “Am I hopeless?” she asked him.

The clasp of his broad hands over hers put a quaver in her words.

“’Course not. We’ll get you whipped into shape.”

The image that his own words conjured up made Harry bite back a groan as he glanced down at the curvy blonde. She was looking up at him with those huge brown eyes, her sinful lips parted just a little, and he could see the white edges of her teeth. A surge of lust hit him as the image of dragging her to his office, bending her over his desk and thrusting into her flashed across his mind. Sweat broke out along his hairline and he abruptly dropped her hands.

“We’ll set something up,” he rasped, his voice thick and tight.
For Christ’s sake, get a
grip on yourself
, Harry thought desperately. He had never had such an intense reaction to a woman before, this instant, brain-scrambling lust. “Can you come by tomorrow about this time?”

“Okay,” the blonde agreed tentatively. “Do I need to get a membership or something?”

Harry nodded toward the front desk, where a floppy-haired teenager had casually planted himself. “Charlie’ll get you squared away. You probably want to just start with a month to see how you like it.”

“Okay,” she said again. “Thank you for your help. I’m Beth Kennedy, by the way.”

She held out her hand.

Harry folded it in his own. “Harry Morris.” He held her hand for too long, staring at her like a dumbass, he was sure, until she tugged it gently away.

“Nice to meet you, Harry—I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said and headed toward the desk, her round ass swaying gently from side to side as she walked away.

Harry stared at the luscious movement, frozen. He heard a snicker behind him.

“Hot for the Girl Scout?” Dominic asked, giving him a playful shove with his shoulder.

Harry scowled at him, unsuccessfully trying to squelch Dominic’s knowing smirk.

“’Course not. She’s a new client.”

“Uh-huh.
Client
. Sure, buddy.” With a roll of his eyes, Dominic wandered off to the uppercut bag.

“I’m in some deep shit,” Harry muttered, trying to force himself to turn away from the view of Beth’s backside. She bent over a little and cocked a hip as she filled out the membership forms Charlie had spread out on the desk for her. Harry’s breath caught.

“Deep, deep shit.”

“Will this day ever end?” Beth grumbled under her breath. Work had stretched into horribly long and boring hours, the time creeping by with agonizing slowness. The second the clock hit five, she was out of her chair and heading for the door.

“How’s it going, Ed?” she greeted her bus driver cheerily as she swung into a seat close to the front.

“Can’t complain, can’t complain,” he said, the same response he gave her every day.

The bus seemed to crawl and Beth thought she would jump out of her skin with impatience. Finally it lurched to a halt with a hissing squeal of brakes at her stop and she flew toward the door, waving a hasty goodbye to Ed. She tripped as she stepped down on the curb, catching the railing before she tumbled face-first onto the sidewalk.

“Careful,” Ed called out after her. “Don’t want you falling again. What’s the hurry—hot date tonight?”

Recovering her balance, Beth grinned.

“Almost,” she told Ed with another wave. Maybe not a date, but Harry was definitely hot. She rushed home, detouring around the gym so that Harry wouldn’t see her in her current sweaty and disheveled state.

She took the stairs to her third-floor apartment two at a time, trying to decide what to wear. It had to be something she could work out in but that looked good too—no ratty sweats and t-shirt today.

Digging in her purse for her keys, Beth did a mental inventory of her closet. She did have those yoga pants that she never wore for yoga since they were a bit snug—and also because she never did yoga.
Snug could be good with Harry watching
, she thought with a wicked smile, finally seizing her keys and triumphantly yanking them out of her bag.

She fiddled with the stubborn lock until the door suddenly swung open, nearly dumping her on the floor. Catching her balance, she made a beeline for the bathroom, tossing her purse on the nearest chair as she stepped over a white envelope on the floor.

Normally she paused to read the love notes that her mystery admirer had been sliding under her door for the past month but tonight she had a real, flesh-and-blood man waiting for her. Even if it was a workout session instead of a date, spending time with Harry definitely trumped a flowery greeting card.

She yanked her top off over her head, the fabric catching on her ears, covering her eyes and blinding her for a few seconds. She bounced off the bathroom doorframe before she managed to tug the shirt free and toss it aside. After unzipping her skirt, she let it drop to the floor and kicked it away before wrestling her nylons down to her ankles, hopping on one foot to pull them free. She knew it was silly to shower before working out but turned on the spray anyway. It was bad enough that she was going to have to sweat in front of beautiful Harry—she was going to do her best not to smell like a monkey in the process.

Although she was tempted, she didn’t put any makeup on after her shower—she knew it would melt off in minutes. Pulling her hair back into a cheery ponytail, she made a face at her reflection in the mirror. With a scrubbed face and her hair pulled back, she looked about twelve years old.
Nothing I can do about that
, she thought, resigned, making her way to her closet.

A sports bra was a must, Beth knew, although it was tempting to wear one of her sexy push-ups. She found a fitted t-shirt cropped short enough that it showed glimpses of her bellybutton above the hip-hugging yoga pants. The shirt was pink and Beth remembered reading somewhere that wearing pink made other people act nicer.

Although Harry had been plenty nice even without the pink
, she thought, an irrepressible smile creeping back over her face.

Harry was watching for her like a third grader with a crush. Dominic had noticed his distraction and was snickering between sets. Although Harry tried to glare the other man into silence, his eyes would eventually wander toward the front door again and that just made Dominic laugh harder.

When she walked into the gym, Harry forgot all about the other man’s amusement.

He had been thinking all day that she couldn’t be as hot as he remembered, that he was exaggerating her beauty in his mind, but looking at her now almost knocked Harry back on his ass. She saw him and smiled and he suddenly couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but gawk at her like a crazy person.

Harry was staring at her, his face intent and serious, and Beth felt her own smile falter and fall away. At her questioning look, he strode toward her, stopping just a few inches away. Tilting her head back so that she could see his face, Beth was reminded of how tall he was—how big. He made her feel tiny and vulnerable but, at the same time, protected and safe. She caught herself unconsciously swaying toward him and pulled away with a flustered smile.

“Ready?” Harry asked, the graveled edge of his voice shivering her skin.

Beth nodded, her voice stolen by his nearness.
Will I ever be able to talk normally
around this man?
she wondered in exasperation.

“Come over here then,” he told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the far wall where shelves of gloves and weights climbed the brick. “I’ll show you how to wrap your hands.”

He pulled what looked like black bandages out of a box on one of the shelves.

“Hold out your hand,” he commanded. As Beth obeyed, he hooked the first long strip of fabric over her thumb and began expertly wrapping her wrist and hand.

“God, your hand is tiny,” he commented as he ran the wrap between her fingers.

“Like a little starfish.”

Beth looked doubtfully down at the appendage in question, unsure if that was a compliment. Didn’t two-year-olds have hands like starfish? Harry fastened the Velcro on the first wrap and reached for her other hand.

“Now you tell me how to start,” he said, throwing Beth into a panic. She hadn’t really been paying attention to what he was doing. Her brain had been too busy repeating,
Oh my God, he’s touching me! Dream man is touching me!
As Harry waited with an expectant expression, she frantically tried to recall the first step.

“Loop around my thumb,” she remembered in relief and Harry nodded, slipping the wrap in place.

“Next?” he asked.

Okay, think!
Beth forced her lust-addled brain into action. “Around my wrist?” she guessed hopefully.

“Good,” he responded and Beth blew out a relieved breath. “Next?”

“Sorry, that’s all I remember,” she admitted. Harry smiled reassuringly and her breath caught at the way his grin narrowed his eyes and dented his cheeks.
Could this
man be any more gorgeous?
she wondered.

BOOK: One-Two Punch
12.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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