A Better Man(17)

The gym was small by Jordan's standards, but it had the proper equipment to make him sweat out his irritation. An upbeat workout tune played from the overhead sound system as he approached the compact and fit guy at the reception desk. Judging by the patriotic tats on his forearms, Jordan guessed the guy was former military.

"Army?" Jordan asked.

"Yes, sir. Rangers."

"Thank you for your service."

"My pleasure. How can I help you?"

Jordan offered his hand as he introduced himself. "I know it's late but I'd like to buy a membership."



       
         
       
        

"We're open 24/7, so there's no such thing as late here." The guy offered a friendly smile. "You looking for a month-­to-­month or long-­term?"

Good question.

"How about we try a month-­to-­month for now."

"You moving into the area?"

Jordan glanced over at the row of elliptical machines. "Really not sure about that yet." The truth was he'd set something in motion he wasn't even positive he could live up to.

He wanted to.

His heart was in it.

But the logistics of his responsibilities elsewhere were going to have to be dealt with before he could make a permanent decision.

Maybe Nicole had been right after all.

God, he didn't want her to be right.

The guy went over the contract and Jordan handed him a credit card. Minutes later he strolled toward the back of the gym where they had the free weights lined up against a mirrored wall. The closer he got to the weights the more a secondary music thumped the walls. Initially he thought there might be a Zumba or aerobics class going on, but he didn't hear an instructor's voice over the music. Curious, he went to investigate.

Through the glass door he saw a woman going one-­on-­one with a traditional full-­length training bag. With her pink gloves ready to strike and the line of sweat down the middle of the back of her sports bra, she balanced her weight in a boxing stance. Though he couldn't see her face he had to admit that not only was her body smokin', her poise and confidence were sexy as hell.

An amped-­up version of "Welcome to the Jungle" pounded through the speakers as the woman took another step back. Her long ponytail swung across her back as she stepped into a vicious roundhouse kick. When she landed gracefully on her feet, she ended up facing him. Surprise vibrated through his blood.

Pink gloves lowered and dark brown eyes widened.

Holy hell.

The last person he expected to see here beating the shit out of a punching bag and turning him on to the point of pain was Lucinda Nutter.

The last person Lucy ever expected to see during her workout was the one standing on the other side of the glass door with his muscular arms folded across a massive chest barely covered by a loose navy tank.

Seeing his sexy self twice in one day was more than her girl parts could take. The poor neglected things were dying to get his attention. While a smile played on his lips, she hoped he'd just continue on to wherever he'd been going. 

He turned the brass knob and opened the door.

No such luck.

"Hello, Lucinda."

"Lucinda doesn't live here anymore. It's just Lucy now."

When his smile burst into a full-­fledged grin, her girl parts began to swoon. To save herself, Lucy turned and delivered a forceful double kick to the bag, then followed up with several strikes of her gloves.

"Well then, hello, just Lucy now."

Gloves on hips, she turned to face him. "You knew it was me back in my classroom the whole time, didn't you."

"It took me a few minutes to recognize you," he admitted. "After all, it's been a long time."

"Has it?"

Chuckling, he closed the door behind him and came fully into the workout room as Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger" thumped through the sound system. "And in all those years, I never pictured you as the kickboxing type."

"Guess I'm just full of surprises."

He grinned. "I like surprises."

The grin undid her. She could totally do without all the flirting. Well, maybe she could handle it if it was genuine. But Jordan had a career-­long reputation for charming the ladies.

"Was there something you needed?"

His eyes roamed her body. "I could make a list."

"I wouldn't bother if I were you." She turned back toward the bag and slammed her gloves into the solid surface.

"It's hard to flirt when you won't even look at me."

"Like I said, I wouldn't bother." Her comment was met with several long seconds of silence while she performed a series of jabs, crosses, and hooks. Apparently he didn't quite know what to do with someone who didn't flirt back.