The kipping pull-up.
“What you want to do when you’re back here is kind of…” he continued speaking, showing me exactly what he wanted from me.
Only, I was distracted.
He had these muscles in his back that were downright debilitating.
What would they feel like when I had my arms around his neck and was letting my hands roam…
“You try,” he finished.
I swallowed, trying to get my crazy mind back under control.
“Okay.” I nodded thoughtfully, glancing up at the bar. “Let’s do it.”
Only, after a ten-minute practice session, I could only get my chin to about three inches under the bar. And my kipping swing was allllll off.
“You’ll get there,” he teased as he snatched his shirt off the floor and put it on.
I had a feeling that with his tutelage, I would.
My breath caught in my throat when he led me outside, fear starting to slither in despite the hunky man at my side.
“Do your parents live here?” he asked.
I swallowed hard past the fear, and felt a sigh of relief sweep over me when he pulled a flashlight from his key ring and started to use it to lock the door.
It was only when we were safely in my car that I replied.
“Actually, they don’t.” I paused. “They’re dead.”
Taos winced. “Shit. Sorry.”
I shrugged. “They died when Mavis was nineteen and I was seventeen. But to be honest, they really weren’t all that great of parents, either. I mean, sure, I didn’t want them to die. But they also weren’t the kind of parents that really cared about us. They didn’t care if we made doctor’s appointments, school or even ate. Mavis, sadly, had to grow up at a young age. Both of us did, really.” I paused. “I don’t think I even went to a dentist appointment until I was thirteen.”
He blinked. “Really?”
I nodded. “Really. And I never had my shots, not because my parents were anti-vaxxers, but because my parents were anti-parents. They didn’t care. So when they died in a car crash, it was pretty sucky there for a few months, but it wasn’t like we were dealing with anything we hadn’t dealt with before. The only difference was Mavis having to get guardianship of me for a half a year.”
He shook his head slowly. “Wow.”
I nodded. “Yep.”
“My parents are gone, too,” he admitted. “They died when my brother and I were young. We both wound up in foster care. He got adopted out, I didn’t. That’s how I met Madden. In foster care right before he was ‘adopted.’ He found a permanent home with the family of the man responsible for saving his life. I found a foster home with a police officer. His wife a school teacher. They were great people, and didn’t mind teenagers in their home eating all their food.”
My face softened at that. “I’m glad you have them.”
I wished for something like that my entire life and never got it. It’d always been just Mavis and me against the world.
“They both passed away a couple of years ago. My foster father of bone cancer, and my foster mother of an infection that went to her blood a few months later.” Taos sighed. “They were how we had the money to open the gym.”
“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s really sad, Taos. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “It’s the way of life, sadly. It sucks, yes, but it’s also something not to be sad over. They were both old. Eighties. So though it sucks that they’re not here anymore, I know that they went together. I know that neither one of them had to live very long without the other. And I know that one day I’ll see them again.”
I wanted to reach over and grab his hand and squeeze.
Instead, I asked about his brother. “And your brother? How is he?”
That had Taos frowning. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to find Greer since he was adopted. It was like he fell off the face of the planet.”
That made my heart hurt. “I can’t say that I’m super-duper awesome at detective work, but I can stalk a person on Facebook and Instagram like a boss.”
He grinned. “His full name is… was… Greer Allen Brady. But I’m sure that they changed it when he was adopted.”
“Maybe not.” I paused. “How old were you when this happened?”
He grimaced. “Thirteen.”
“Then possibly not since he’d been using that name for so long. If y’all had a good relationship with your parents, there’s an even better chance that he kept it.”
He shrugged, and I chose to change the subject.
“Now, how sore am I going to be tomorrow?”
He burst out laughing. “Bad.”
CHAPTER 8
But did you die?
-CrossFit
TAOS
I was rereading over a file when I heard the rumble-splutter of a car arriving in my driveway.
I got up and looked out, ever the cop, and stared at the black nondescript sedan that was idling in my driveway.
I watched quietly as Fran got out of her car and started walking the length of my walkway to get to the front door.
I waited until she was right there, knocking on the door, before I opened it and grinned. “Come in. Gotta get the cat settled, then I can go.”
She grinned and followed me in, just like she’d been doing for the last week and a half.
Apparently, my car had parts that were required for it that had to come all the way from Buffalo, New York. That also meant that it’d taken a bit more time to get the parts than we’d originally anticipated, and since my car was a bit in pieces thanks to the specific parts that were needed, it meant that I was out of a vehicle for longer than I’d expected.
Not that I was complaining.
“I didn’t know you had a cat,” she admitted.
I laughed. “Well, I have a cat when the cat wants me to be his owner. Sometimes, he likes the neighbor next door to be his owner.”
She giggled. “You’re joking, right?”
I shook my head and walked into my kitchen where Gumby, the boy tabby cat that literally was shared between my neighbor and I, sat on the corner of my kitchen island waiting for food.
“I think that he was originally the neighbor’s, but he likes my food better,” I admitted as I walked to the kitchen cabinet that I kept his food in and opened it. “The neighbor originally bought the house that came with the cat. He was roughly about eight months old, and the old owner died, so he took him on. He got him fixed. Then allowed him to go outside when he pleased. Which ended up with me thinking we had a stray cat, and I made the mistake of feeding him a can of cat food that I got in one of those free kiosks at the bulk supply store when I scanned my membership card. Now, he comes to me when he wants to eat, hangs out, and then leaves when he’s ready to go home.”
She started to laugh all over again, and I turned around to see Gumby rubbing up against her chest, doing what I wanted to do.
I popped the top on the can, and Gumby left her like he’d never been getting scratches.
He arrowed to me, darting over my cast-iron skillet on the stove to stop directly in front of me, letting me know just how impatiently he was waiting.