The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (123 page)

Read The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella Online

Authors: Suzanne Sweeney

Tags: #Romance, #New Adult, #BEACH, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #FOOTBALL

BOOK: The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella
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“While the court appreciates the attempt of Corporal Donovan to receive treatment for his PTSD, he should have notified the authorities of his whereabouts immediately following the crime.  The fact remains that he fled the site of a crime and remained at large for a considerable amount of time.  The argument that he voluntarily turned himself in is not persuasive.  He is still considered a flight risk and as such, in conjunction with the severity of the crimes he is charged with, it is the decision of the court to deny bail and remand the defendant back into custody until his sentencing hearing, which will take place five weeks from today.  Court is adjourned.”  He bangs his gavel, stands, and leaves the court through the same door he entered. 

I breathe a sigh of relief.  I’m relieved that I won’t have to worry about Evan getting anywhere near Ryker for a very long time.

The room begins to empty out and Evan’s attorney is shaking hands with the prosecutors.  He turns to Evan.  “That’s it for today. My secretary will contact you and set up a time when we can work on your victim’s impact statements.”

“Do I
have
to speak?” I ask, hoping the answer will be no.

“No, of course not.  But if you want to see Donovan receive the maximum penalty, we’ll need to present compelling reasons.  This is his first offense and he is a veteran with a clean military record.  He might get away with the minimal penalty of five years for arson and five years for assault to be enforced concurrently, which would mean a five year sentence with eligibility for parole in less than three.  It’s really hard to predict what the judge will order in a case like this.  If he’s persuaded by Ryker’s defense, it could play against us.”

We shake hands with the attorney and brace ourselves for the next obstacle, making our way out of the courthouse and through the throngs of paparazzi and fans.

I
need to clear my head.  Evan hasn’t spoken a word to me the entire ride home.  Being sandwiched between him and Adam doesn’t have the same protective feeling it did before.  Now I feel like I’m being transferred and escorted, having just been found guilty of my own crime.

When Derek pulls up, Evan hops from the car, holding out his hand to help me.  He wraps his arms around me, pulls me in tightly, and rocks silently back and forth before he speaks.  “Juliette, I need to go.  I’m going to have Marcus take me to his gym for a workout.  I’ll be home in a little while.  I love you.”  He places a hand under my chin, lifting my lips to meet his.  I close my eyes and drink him in.  When he kisses me, everything else disappears and it’s just the two of us. 

“Do you have to go?  Can’t you just work out upstairs in your gym?” I ask, desperate for him to stay with me.

“Marcus’s gym has a boxing ring.  I need to hit something.  If I don’t, I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“Listen, I can call Camilla to come pick you up and meet us there, Jette.  Would that be okay?”  Marcus is so thoughtful.

“Sure, but I think I’d like to go for a run first.  Tell her to let herself in and we’ll meet you there in about an hour, if that’s okay.”

The men nod their agreement, and off they go.  Evan needs his release, and I do too.  I waste no time.  I tear off all my clothes, leaving them in piles on the floor.  I toss on my workout clothes, grab Maddy’s leash, and take off down the beach for an invigorating run.

I push myself hard as Jason Derulo and Pitbull propel me forward with their fierce beats.  Just trying to keep up with the tempo has me focused and sweating in no time. 

Jogging isn’t enough.  I check my watch and decide I’m going to challenge myself.  Camilla will be here soon.  My usual run is about two miles; one mile to the boardwalk, and then another mile back again.  I’m going to give myself exactly fifteen minutes instead of my usual twenty.

By the time I get back, my legs are burning and I’m breathing heavily, but the elation I feel at having accomplished my goal is worth it.  I feel stronger, more in control, and even a little euphoric.  Time for a quick shower, and then it’s off to join my men.

Camilla takes me to Peak Fitness, not far from our house.  It’s a massive building, but Camilla seems to know her way well.  We walk past a cycle theater, weight rooms, group exercise studios, locker rooms, and a pro shop as we head toward the far end of the building, where the boxing ring is located.

There’s a rather large crowd gathered around watching the two men as they enter the ring.  I guess we didn’t miss anything.  Adam and Derek are standing close by, so Camilla and I weave through the curious spectators and join them. 

Marcus and Evan climb through the ropes and move toward the center.  There they stand, shirtless, with their hands meticulously taped.  Marcus is muttering some sort of instructions to Evan, who’s bouncing on his feet, eager to get started.  “Has Marcus done this before?” I ask.

“Oh, sure.  Marcus has been sparring for years.  It started in the military and he hasn’t stopped since.”  She looks up at her new husband and bites her lip. “Isn’t he hot?” she muses aloud.

“I guess so.”  It’s strange to think of Marcus like that.  He’s like a brother or cousin whom I look up to.  Besides, who can concentrate on anything when Evan McGuire is standing in front of me shirtless?

Marcus is leading Evan in some warm-up exercises, I think.  Evan mirrors everything Marcus does.  They begin with some straight punches into the space in front of them, followed by a few upper cuts and head rolls.  They’re bouncing on their feet the whole time, and it almost appears like the two are dancing to some sort of music only they can hear.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

Adam explains, “Oh, they’re just warming up.  You know, getting their blood flowing and loosening their muscles.  Give it a minute, then they’ll really get started.”

“What have you guys been doing this whole time?”

“We had to wait for the ring.  Someone else had it reserved.  But you know Mac, when he wants something, he finds a way to get it.  I think he had to give away a few tickets to a game for this,” Derek explains.

Marcus has Evan throwing a few jabs, then bending at the knees and rolling his head to the side.  The men move with such grace and ease, all I can think about is tearing off the few articles of clothing Evan still has on and taking him here and now.

Once Marcus seems satisfied, the two men pause to put on their gloves.  Evan comes toward us, and Adam hands him a large red boxing glove.  While Adam secures the glove, I have to ask, “Evan, are you sure this is a good idea?  Suppose you get hurt?”

“We’re not actually going to fight, Juliette.  You’ll see.  Don’t worry, baby.  I know my limits.”

Adam is securing the second glove and I glance a few feet away to see what Marcus is doing.  He’s not putting on gloves – he’s got some sort of pads with straps, one for each hand.  “What’s that?” I ask Derek.

“They’re focus punch mitts.  Marcus won’t be throwing any punches today.  Evan will be throwing punches at the pads and getting a good workout.  Don’t look so panicked, kiddo.  Marcus won’t let Evan hurt his throwing arm, Jette.  He’s in good hands.”

Camilla and I sit down on a bench to watch.  She asks, “So Jette, I’m guessing it didn’t go well in court today?  I have a feeling that we wouldn’t be here right now if it did.”  Camilla wasn’t there, so she has no idea what we heard.

“You could say that.”  I don’t know what else to say. 

“How bad was it?” she asks.

I just shrug.  Derek tells her a little more about what Ryker’s attorney accused me of, and how he’s being held without bail.  “I guarantee,” he tells her, “every one of those punches Evan throws are targeted right at Donovan’s face.  I don’t know how Mac kept his shit together through that circus they called a hearing.”

They finish getting ready, turn, and head back into the ring.  My eyes are glued to the sight of their tight asses as they walk away from us.  Holy hell, how could I never really have noticed how fit and ripped Marcus is?

Marcus holds up one pad and commands, “Jab.”  Evan throws a punch.  He puts the pad down and raises it again quickly. “Again.”  As he does, Evan’s biceps and triceps flex and my core tightens.  I know what it feels like to be wrapped in those strong arms.

Marcus turns and Evan follows.  More commands are issued. “Cross,” and, “Now one, two. Again, one, two. Up now, jab, cross, hook.”  They circle around the ring and I can’t take my eyes off them.  Both well over six feet tall, they rival each other in the best possible way.  Their broad shoulders, toned muscles, and fierce looks of determination are mesmerizing.  Evan’s fair skin and shaggy brown hair is contrasted by Marcus’s dark skin and short, close buzz cut.  We might just be violating a few state and federal laws by having these two drop-dead gorgeous men in the same ring together.   

“Good. Again. Good.  Now move up, jab, cross, hook, uppercut. Good.  Again. Jab, and again. Jab. Good, now cross.  Again, cross. One more cross. Good.”  The commands come quickly and Evan responds to each without hesitation.  He’s a machine.  His muscles bend and flex.  His skin is shimmering with sweat and I watch as small droplets drip from his face.  The air is mixed with testosterone and sweat.  The look on his face is feral and it’s the hottest damned thing I’ve ever seen in my life. 

“Look at them,” Camilla whispers.  “We’re the luckiest girls on the planet.”

When Marcus puts the pads down, I know the exercise is over.  Evan hunches over, places his hands on his knees and stops to catch his breath.  Marcus really did give him a good workout. 

“Damn.  Is it over already?” Camilla complains. 

I nod in agreement and watch as Evan stands back up, approaches Marcus, and pulls him in for a man-hug. They talk quietly for a few moments and Evan’s eyes narrow before he pulls back and nods, offers Marcus a half smile and pats him hard on the shoulder. They both come down off the ring and smile at us.

“Feel better?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Evan shrugs and flashes a cocky smile. “I could have gone longer, but Marcus was ready to quit.”

Adam unties the gloves and tosses them to the side.  The moment his hands are free, he grabs me and pulls me in for a sweaty, grimy hug.  Resistance is futile, so I don’t even bother trying to fight.  He lifts me and kisses me deeply and passionately.  When he finally releases me, I’m dizzy and stunned. 

“Let’s go home, Running Girl.  I have to shower and you have to get ready.”

“Get ready?  For what?”

“A party,” Camilla proclaims.  “You’ve both worked out your frustration – now it’s time to have fun and relax.  My house tonight, after dinner.  And don’t even think about bringing anything.  You two are our guests tonight.”

Adam and Derek drive us back home.  I curl up on Evan’s lap in the back seat while he plays with my hair.  We had a horrible morning, but feeling his strong arms and gentle touch is all the medicine I need to make things right.

Chapter Eight

Building Bridges

I
t’s times like this that I treasure.  The two of us getting dressed together, getting ready for a night out with our friends.  It brings me so much joy to see how well our lives have weaved together.  His home is my home.  My friends are his friends.  Our lives have become one.

Thankfully, we’re both in great moods.  Evan is playful and silly, pinching my ass and grabbing my boobs whenever he’s near me.  I love feeling young and normal.  We hardy ever get to behave this way.

Evan is shirtless again as he finishes getting ready in the master bath.  He’s left the door open and I watch, mesmerized, as he shaves.  I gaze at his bare feet, his unbuttoned jeans, the happy-trail of tiny hairs that disappear below his waistband, and the focused look on his face as he stands at the sink.  There is something intimate and erotic about watching a man shave. 

He’s got his iPod plugged into the wall dock, filling the room with the Eagle’s “Hotel California” as he spreads the shaving cream across his face, careful not to miss any spots.  He grabs his razor, runs it under the steaming-hot water, and meticulously begins to remove the white foamy lather.  His eyes are fixated and he has no idea that I am watching him.  He’s humming along and I’m enjoying the show.

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