A Perfect Distraction(42)
Maggie’s jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”
He held up his hands. “Just a friendly observation.”
“I’ve been finding my feet, fashionwise.” She frowned. “Now I think I’ve got it right. I feel comfortable.” Her direct look challenged him to disagree.
He didn’t. “Why did you have to ‘find your feet’?”
Though she was nervous about sharing the details of her past, it was only fair. Besides, if they were to be more than “friends,” he should know what emotional baggage she carried.
“My ex-husband had definite ideas about what his wife should wear,” she began carefully. “At first, I appreciated the guidance. What did I know about dressing to impress? Even if I didn’t like what he chose, I loved wearing designer labels and having the latest catwalk fashion. Gradually, I began to have ideas of my own, to develop my own style. He—” she swallowed “—disapproved of my choices.”
“Is this a result of his ‘disapproval’?” He traced a finger along the scar on her cheek. Her skin tingled, as if his touch was healing the still-red mark.
She nodded.
Jake’s jaw turned to granite. “Go on.”
“It was easier to give in to his demands than fight them. Especially when Emily came along.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Once our divorce was final, I gave every stitch of clothing to the local charity shops. I started from scratch and tried different things until—” she indicated her outfit “—I settled on this.”
“Then I shoved my size twelves in my mouth.” Disgust colored his tone.
“You didn’t help,” she agreed. “No matter. Not everyone will approve of what I wear, so I’m learning to focus on my own approval instead.”
“Good for you.”
Maggie smiled. “Anyway, enough of that. Time to check this place out.”
“Sure.” Jake undid his seat belt. “If this one isn’t suitable, I may consider putting a home gym in the basement.”
Maggie batted away a twinge of nervousness. She’d done her best. He was dissatisfied with the places, not with her.
Jake had been as picky about choosing a new gym as he’d been with the house. He’d found fault with each of the previous places within minutes of entering. Still, she’d saved the best for last. She hoped it lived up to the brochure.
“I can look into that for you, but let’s wait until we’ve seen this gym. It might be exactly what you’re looking for,” she said cheerily. “From the brochure, it looks perfect.”
“Those other places looked great on paper, too. That first gym was disgusting.” He got out of the car.
Maggie joined him in front of the building. “The changing rooms were filthy.”
“The next couple were too New Age. How can meditating improve my stamina? Aromatherapy sure as hell won’t help my puck handling.”
“I’ve heard of several athletes using natural approaches to boost performance.”
His lip curled. “No way sniffing lavender could improve my shot.”
“I think it was rosemary.” She grinned. “Either is better than steroids.”
“I guess. I wouldn’t take those, either.”
No. Maggie couldn’t imagine Jake taking any shortcuts to success. “What was wrong with that last place? It was clean, had state-of-the-art equipment and highly qualified trainers.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I know the owner. He used to play hockey.”
She’d sensed Jake didn’t like him. “Doesn’t that put the gym at the top of your list?”
“Not a chance.” His hard tone brooked no argument.
“Why not? I thought you were all mates off the ice.”
“Mostly. Jerks like him, I want nothing to do with.”
His vehemence baffled her. “He seemed pleasant enough.”
“The guy was dirty. Bush league. He injured some good people.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that hockey? You hit. You fight. Someone gets hurt.”
Jake jammed his hands on his hips. “There’s a right and wrong way to do things. That joker’s was the wrong way.”
“There’s a right way to hit a player?”
“Knocking the opposition out of the way is like tackling. Only we can’t tackle because our blades are razor sharp.”
It made a strange kind of sense.
“That doesn’t explain players beating the living daylights out of each other while the crowd bays for blood.” Maggie grimaced as she recalled some of the clips she’d seen. “I suppose there’s a good reason for fights, too.”