His Kind of Perfection
“Even better. I’m going to tell you how to grill up a veggie pizza using flour tortillas as the crust that will have you throwing rocks at Mama G’s.”
Together, they picked out an assortment of vegetables that would be delicious grilled, baked or eaten raw. Kale really did like everything, and Bree wondered if that was part of his weight problem. Food was comfort and relaxation and all things good to him. Those feelings were usually tethered all the way back to childhood and family, so replacing them took a great deal of desire with a healthy side of courage. She knew that firsthand.
Around they went, Bree studiously keeping the cart to the outside aisles, even when Kale whined like a baby near the cereal and the pot pies. He picked out some steaks and ground beef that caused her to wrinkle her nose, but he let her know in no uncertain terms that red meat wasn’t negotiable. He stood his ground, and Bree was savvy enough to pick her battles.
At the very end, with the cart laden with mostly good-for-you foods, Bree finally pointed to the freezers containing ice cream. “I want you to pick out two pints of the most decadent stuff here, and, at the end of every long, hard day, I want you to indulge in a half cup. That’s a fourth of a container. Don’t eat it out of the carton, though. You have to promise to dish it out and take small bites, letting that creamy smoothness surround your tongue and your taste buds. I want you to savor every second of it.”
She swore the blue of Kale’s eyes deepened at least two hues as he leaned toward her. “You make that sound so sensual.” The huskiness in his voice sent a shiver scampering through her.
She covered her reaction by crossing her arms across her chest, pretending she was cold from the freezers. “Nothing’s sexier than food,” she told him. “Learn that secret, and...what’s her name?”
He looked confused. “Who?”
“The girlfriend that you’re working on getting back.”
“Oh. Addy.”
Bree leaned in and whispered, “Learn the secret correlation between sex and food, and Addy will worship at your feet.”
“Yeah?” A twinkle lightened the blue eyes back to their normal gorgeousness, and Kale stepped ceremoniously up to the freezer door and opened it. “Then I shall choose carefully.” A minute later, he brandished the two cartons in front of her. “I trust these meet your approval.”
She couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes at his choices—Tame the Wild Cherry and Hunky Banana with Nuts.
This guy was going to be a handful.
* * *
AS SHE WAITED for her ten o’clock client, Bree used the few minutes to jot some notes in Kale Barlow’s file.
He was as motivated as anyone she’d ever met—determined to the point of being stubborn, but with a comfortable manner that made his faults easy to overlook. She tried to imagine what Addy was like. What kind of woman wouldn’t enjoy being with a guy who even made buying groceries fun?
She recalled one of Kale’s comments during their shopping excursion last night when she’d suggested that, if he really wanted a flatter belly, giving up alcohol for a few weeks would make a visible difference.
The poor guy had looked aghast. “I’m already feeling guilty about drinking light beer while I listen to my country music. If I gave up beer completely, I’d have to switch to one of those classical stations.” He faked a shudder. “No woman is worth that.”
Bree chuckled aloud at the memory.
“You’re certainly in a good mood this morning.”
Bree looked up to find John Dunn standing in the doorway of her office.
“Morning, John. No sucking up here, but I really love this job.”
A smile relaxed the gym owner’s normally tense facial features. “I’m glad to hear that.” He stepped aside, and a young woman appeared from behind him. “I want to introduce you to Elena Fremont. She’s going to run the snack bar.” He turned to the young woman. “This is Bree Rice, Gil’s sister.”
To say she was surprised at John’s choice would have been an understatement. Elena looked nothing at all like someone Bree would have expected her serious-minded boss to hire. The young woman, or girl—it was hard to tell with all the makeup she wore—sported thick black eyeliner encircling large brown eyes, whose lids were heavy with lime-green metallic eye shadow. Her long, straight hair—obviously dyed to the abnormal black shade—had multicolored streaks running through it.
“Hi, Elena. It’s nice to meet you.”
Rather than shaking Bree’s extended hand, Elena slapped it lightly. “S’up. Call me Lanie.”
“Okay.” Feeling out of sync with the newcomer, Bree dropped her hand to her side. “You’re going to be busy...Lanie.” She forced her gaze to stay locked on the girl’s eyes instead of sneaking up to the three silver rings piercing the right brow or down to peek at the bright blue lip liner that called attention to the purple mouth. Or what looked like an emerald perched on the ridge of her left nostril. “A lot of the clients have been asking when the bar’s going to open.”
“That your sandwich in the fridge?” Lanie threw a thumb in the direction of the snack bar.
“Yes.” Bree nodded.
“You’ll have to get it out of there and put it in the employee lounge. I don’t want people using my fridge for stuff from home. Health inspectors, you know?”
Bree’s jaw tightened at the girl’s abruptness, but she held her tongue. She looked at John to see his response.
He seemed unfazed, except the perpetual frown was back. “Gil gave Elena total charge of the area. He’s anxious to get things moving.”
Bree swallowed her irritation. If Lanie was Gil’s choice, he must’ve seen some potential. She herself was living proof that, when it came to business decisions, he didn’t make exceptions. Everybody was held to the same strict standards.
Bree turned back to Lanie. “I’ll get it out of there right now.”
Lanie nodded as if to say, Of course you will, but, thankfully, didn’t say it.
“Bree is busy.” John pointed toward the weight room. “And I want to introduce you to the others.”
Without so much as a ta-ta or a backward glance, the two left Bree’s office. On her way to the snack bar, she paused just outside her door, watching them.
With her flip-flops, cutoff jean short shorts, Muppet T-shirt and studded dog collar, Lanie looked like a lost soul.
She either needed fixing or her ass kicked. At the moment, Bree wasn’t sure which.
CHAPTER FOUR
SNACKING ON HEALTHY FOOD, eating smaller meals but more often, and two weeks of training with Bree had taken another six pounds off Kale. He couldn’t be more pleased...or more surprised.
Bree knew her stuff. She knew just how far to push him without making it grueling, all the while managing to keep things fresh and interesting. Like this evening. Her text simply read: Today we take it to the next level, which brought all kinds of wild imaginings into his head—none of which were appropriate in regard to his personal trainer. At their last session, she’d told him she had an idea, but it would remain a secret until tonight. She was coming to the marina, and he was instructed to wear something he could “knock around in.”
He had to admit, he was intrigued, which must have accounted for the way his heartbeat kicked up when he heard her pull into the parking lot. He hurried out to meet her.
“What’s this?” He pointed to the old pickup she crawled out of—a far cry from the little sports car she usually drove.
“My dad’s old truck.” Bree gave the door a loving pat. “It doesn’t get used much anymore, so I thought it was time we gave it—and you—a real-time workout.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they cut to the bed of the truck, which was loaded down with something heavy and covered with a faded blue tarp. “You have those work gloves I asked about?”
Kale pulled a pair from his coverall pocket and wiggled the loose fingers against her nose, drawing a girlish giggle. “I don’t have any smalls.”
“That’s okay.” She swiped the pair from him and slipped her hand into one of them. The glove dwarfed her hand.
“You want to take a look around before we get started?” He waved his hand toward the store and his home in the back.
She grinned and shook her head. “You’re stalling, Kale. Yes, I do want to look around. In fact, I want to have a good look around. But that can wait until we need a breather. First, we have business to attend to.” She tugged the tarpaulin, revealing the old truck’s mystery load.
Bricks. A huge pile of them.
Kale scratched his head. “What are we gonna do with these?
She smacked his biceps lightly with the back of her fingers. “We’re going to unload them.” Bree said it matter-of-factly, as if her intent was obvious. She glanced around and shrugged. “Where will they be out of your way?”
“Are they staying here?”
She nodded in response.
He looked around and pointed to a bare area where no grass grew just off the northeast corner of the parking lot. “I guess over there will be fine.”
Bree got back in the pickup. Throwing the vehicle into Drive instead of Reverse, she pulled to the southwest corner, as far away as possible from where he’d suggested.
“I said over there.” When she climbed from the cab, he took her shoulders and spun her to face the opposite direction where he pointed.
“I understand. I speaka de English.” She winked and elbowed him playfully before walking behind the truck and lowering the tailgate. “Let’s get to work.”
Kale pulled on his gloves and grabbed a brick in each hand. Following Bree’s lead, he marched across the parking lot, pumping his arms over his head, alternating hands. When they got to the far side, they placed the bricks on the ground, then did walking lunges back to the truck to retrieve four more bricks.
“I want to show you how you can make your workday into a workout,” Bree explained. “I know you’ve been making laps around the lot several times a day, but that must get boring.”
“Yeah.” His answer came out as a huff, which irritated him a little since Bree seemed to be having no trouble at all lunging, pumping the bricks and talking all at the same time.
“The trick isn’t getting into shape. Anybody with the desire can do that. The trick is staying in shape, and staying in shape requires staying in motion. The best way to stay in motion for a lifetime is to look for ways of using what’s around you and using your imagination.”
Each time they returned to the truck, Bree came up with a different style of movement. In addition to lunges, they race walked, jogged, ran, hopped, walked backward, and despite his protests that real men didn’t do such things, they skipped. Bree made the skipping lap into a race so his masculinity wasn’t too threatened. He won, though he wasn’t sure if that was deliberate on her part or not.
By the time they had transported and piled all the bricks, Kale had sweated through his thermal Henley and was wishing he’d worn something lighter.
When Bree jerked off her sock cap to reveal her short brown hair, plastered by sweat to her head, he felt better. But then, she bent over and shook it, slinging a few droplets his way, and running her fingers roughly through her hair. When she straightened up, little brown spikes shot from her head in all directions. The sight was sexy, in a weird sort of way, and he kept thinking how she might look after a night of wild sex. But if the woman was the least bit aware of her sexiness, it was well-hidden. Inadvertently adding to the allure, she removed her down vest and thermal shirt, revealing a long-sleeved tee that clung to her body and accentuated every curve. “I’m so hot!” she declared, and the smaller of Kale’s heads responded in enthusiastic agreement.
Damn good thing his coverall was finally fitting loosely. Otherwise, Bree Rice might get the wrong idea about him.
“Want the tour now?” he suggested. Anything to give him a reason not to stand and gawk.
She patted his face as if correcting a child. Tilting her head, she grinned. “We’re only halfway through.”
Kale’s fingers reflexively dug into his hips. “What in the hell are you talking about, woman?”
“We have to load all those bricks back in the truck. They’re not going to walk over there and jump in.”
He narrowed his eyes, trying to look menacing, yet knowing he couldn’t pull it off. “You said they were staying.”
“I lied.” She smiled sweetly and fluttered her eyelids.
He reached her in two steps, moving faster than he thought his tired legs would allow. “Nobody lies to Kale Barlow and gets away with it.” Effortlessly, he swept her up into his arms and started toward the floating walkway that led out to the marina.
“What are you doing?” She laughed, but the sound had an edge to it he couldn’t discern.
“Giving you the tour.”
“I’d rather take the tour walking on my own legs.” She pushed against him slightly, and he gripped her closer. “Put me down, Kale.” She tried again, harder this time, and he latched on that much tighter.
“Not gonna happen. And quit squirming or you’ll throw us both off.” By that time, his long stride had brought them to the end of the walkway.
Her gaze shot up to meet his, her eyes wide with disbelief. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He mimicked her grin from earlier and fluttered his eyelids as they passed the gas pumps. “Naw. Of course I wouldn’t.”
Her arms flew around his neck, and she held on with everything she had as they reached the end of the gas dock. “Kale, so help me...if I go in, so do you.”
He shrugged. “I can swim.”
“But that water’s cold.”
“You should’ve thought of that before you lied to me.” He let go of her legs to reach up and pry her hands from around his neck.
With a squeal, she threw her legs around his waist, locking them in back, and pushing body parts together in such a way that nothing was left to the imagination. She must have immediately recognized the absurdity of the position because she released her legs so fast, he couldn’t accommodate the shift in weight. He grabbed at her and leaned back, but the next instant, the cold water of Kentucky Lake engulfed them both.
The ten-foot depth shouldn’t have been a problem for a good swimmer, but suddenly Kale panicked. What if Bree couldn’t swim? She would have said something, right? He’d assumed she could, being so athletic, but he didn’t know for certain. Besides, the water was cold...she could have hit her head. He pushed to the surface, shouting her name as soon as the air hit his face.
“I’m right here.” Her elbows were already resting on the dock, head and chest out of the water, rivulets of water running down her face. Effortlessly, she thrust herself up and plopped to a seated position. “That was a stupid thing to do.” She raised an eyebrow in reproach, but her voice was calm with maybe a hint of humor.
“Yes, it was. I’m sorry.” Kale was still upset enough, it didn’t seem funny yet. He swiped a hand down his face to clear the lake water from his eyes. “I wasn’t really going to throw you in. I lost my balance.”
Bree shrugged. “Guess I want that tour now. And I’ll have to change clothes. I assume you have a working shower?” She started toward the truck.
Wait...she was going to shower? In his apartment?
Adrenaline flooded Kale’s system. Placing his hands flat on the wooden boards, he heaved himself up, not making it high enough to get his top half out of the water. He tried again...and failed again. And again.
Humiliated and exhausted, he finally gave up and let go, swimming to the boat ramp and trudging up the slope, shivering from the cold.
Bree met him at the top of the ramp. “I’m glad I didn’t have to come in after you. Two loads of bricks and a load of Kale is more than I can handle in one day.”
Two loads of bricks? “You can’t seriously still want to load the bricks back in the truck,” he growled, and then he got her meaning. “Hold on a minute. Are you telling me you loaded them by yourself the first time?”
She nodded.
A groan rumbled in Kale’s chest, but he caught it before it became audible. Damn, the woman was hard to keep up with...but, damn, what a woman!
A violent shiver shook Bree’s body, and she rubbed her arms briskly. “I need out of these wet things.”
“Get your clothes.” Kale was grateful when she stepped away from him toward the truck. He’d had an overwhelming urge to rub her, too, but not quite in the same brisk manner she’d used. His touch would be slow and deliberate...and he wouldn’t stop at her arms.
Stop, the voice in his head warned. Don’t mess things up with Bree. She’s a great trainer, and she’s going to help you get what you really want. For the first time in his life, he would be somewhere long enough to see a plan through to its end. Buy the marina and then settle down with Addy.
With her gym bag slung over her shoulder, Bree hurried along with him to his apartment, putting off the grand tour until they both had showered and donned dry clothes. And after that, he put the tour off a little longer to take care of some business that was eating at him.
He led her back outside to the parking lot, which was now bathed in silver light from a three-quarter moon. “Do you really want the bricks back in the truck?”
Her shoulders sagged momentarily, but then she straightened as if something occurred to her. “If I leave them, will you use them to work out?”
“Scout’s honor.” He’d never been a Boy Scout—had never lived anywhere long enough to become active in a troop. But he’d pretended to be one lots of times. Fact was, he’d pretended to belong lots of times...to many different things.
Bree’s pleasure at his answer brought a warmth to both her smile and her eyes.
“Let me prove I’m not lying.” He pointed to the tailgate of the truck. “Sit. And don’t even consider moving.”
She did move, but only a little, and that was to cheer him on as he made trip after trip, delivering the bricks to the southwest corner of the parking lot.
Aware he had Bree’s undivided attention, he even skipped a couple of times.
* * *
A RHYTHMIC MOTION was Bree’s first taste of consciousness the following morning. It was a subtle movement, barely there, foreign yet familiar at the same time.
Her eyes flew open to unfamiliar surroundings. Unfamiliar green walls. Unfamiliar four-poster bed. Unfamiliar motor sounds.
Where was she?
She sat up and breathed through the first stage of panic as the fog of sleep lifted.
Oh, God! She was in Kale Barlow’s apartment. In Kale Barlow’s bed.
The clock on the table read 5:41 a.m. Dawn was barely lighting the sky, and yet she heard voices drifting through the window that was raised a smidgen. Boats coming in for gas. Fishermen, surely, at this time of day.
She flung her legs over the side of the bed, thankful to find herself fully clothed in the yoga pants and top she’d changed into. At least she hadn’t done anything more than spend the night.
Or had she?
A vague recollection of a kiss scampered through her memory. A sleepy kiss good-night that had felt completely natural as Kale had laid her down and tucked her into his bed. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to squish the memory from her brain, but it wouldn’t budge.
The details flooded back in glorious detail—or gory, if she looked at it from the standpoint Gil would take. He would tell her that staying for a supper of Kale’s grilled vegetables and chicken, enjoying a glass of wine afterward around his campfire and getting caught up in the old movie Top Gun was stupid and inappropriate, but last night none of it had seemed that way. It had simply been a nice way to unwind with a friend after a hard workout.
She hadn’t counted on falling asleep during the movie. Hadn’t counted on Kale carrying her to his bed and tucking her in so sweetly. And, Lord knows, she hadn’t counted on kissing him good-night in her dreamy state.
It was just a silly mistake, and certainly she and Kale both knew that.
But Gil wouldn’t.
Thea had planned to stay at her brother’s place last night, so if Bree beat her home, she’d be none the wiser...and neither would Gil.
Bree hit the floor at a run, grabbing her clothes that Kale had washed, dried and stacked on the dining table.
Wow, that was thoughtful of him.
The sight of the pillow and blanket on the couch sent a pang of guilt through her. Not because she’d spent the night, but because a guy the size of Kale couldn’t possibly have found a comfortable sleeping position on that couch.
She dashed out, yelling a goodbye to her host, who was talking to a fisherman while he filled his tank.
“Bree! Wait up!” He caught her as she turned the ignition switch and her dad’s old truck roared to life. “Don’t you want some breakfast?”
When she rolled the window down, he leaned on his forearms through the opening, his face just inches from hers. She kept her expression serious, directing an intent gaze his way. “I can’t, Kale. I’ve got to get going. And I want to assure you I don’t make a habit of spending the night in my clients’ homes.”
She started to apologize for the kiss, but then decided the less said, the better. Maybe it had been her imagination. Or maybe it was such a minor incident Kale wouldn’t even remember it.
His eyes told her he was going to say it before the words left his mouth. “So no kiss goodbye?”
She groaned and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate of me. I guess the wine took advantage of my exhausted state.”
He laughed, obviously delighting in her misery. “And you tried to take advantage of my exhausted state?”
“No!” Reluctantly, she raised her head to look him in the eye again. “But, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’ll be glad to refer you to Gil.” She didn’t add the action was sure to get her fired and maybe ruin her personal trainer career forever, at least in these parts. People around here speculated and then talked. Her fingers ached from gripping the steering wheel too hard.
Kale straightened and put his hands on his hips. “Damn, Bree. You think a little kiss that didn’t mean a damn thing is going to make me uncomfortable? I’m Addy’s man, remember? And I don’t want Gil for a trainer. I want you. Look at the progress we’re making.” He held his arms out and did a three-sixty turn for her.
“You are looking pretty good.” She wasn’t sure the weight loss had anything to do with her answer.
“Damn straight. So rid that pretty head of yours of any thoughts about trading me, you hear?”
Her grip on the steering wheel relaxed. “Yeah.” She gave him a smile. “I hear.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and waved, part of her anxious to be on her way, yet another part wishing she could take him up on his offer of breakfast.
A weird mixture of happiness and melancholy settled on her as she drove back to Benton. The kiss notwithstanding, last night had been relaxing. She couldn’t remember when she had slept so hard or awakened so refreshed. Maybe it was being on the lake with the sound of the waves and the ever-so-gentle rocking of the building that made the rest of the world seem far away and her dad so near. Being at Dilly’s old place reminded her of good times when she’d been there often as a kid. And although a lot of things were different, it still felt like a good place to be. Kale had kept her laughing, and the improvements he wanted to make to the marina were impressive. It had been fun to listen to the excitement in his voice when he spoke of his vision for the place, like how someday he wanted to expand the property into a camping resort.
He had drive and a charisma that drew people in like nails to a magnet. Or was that part just her? She wasn’t sure. He didn’t talk about friends—except Beecher, whose family had always owned the marina just at the edge of Taylor’s Grove. She’d gone to high school with Sol, the current owner. And, of course, there was the ever-present-in-his-thoughts Addy.