Only a year into the gym-owning business, he was still trying to see what appealed to the Whispering Pines residents. Small group training, full classes, short-term passes, discounts...he was trying it all. For now he kept the place open seven days a week, with shorter hours on the weekends. He experimented with what he offered, and slowly, his membership was growing. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of that. He’d come back to Whispering Pines with nothing but twenty bucks in his wallet and a dream of leaving the last six years behind him. Eighteen months after leaving California, he was making a go of it.
Zane wiped his face, finished his water, and headed for the door. “Have a good one, man. See you tomorrow.”
“Likewise.”
Dash took a quick shower and then walked to the front of the gym, dressed in a clean pair of workout pants and a red-collared shirt with Springer Fitness embroidered over the pocket. “How’s things?” he asked Hans, the twenty-year-old manning the desk.
“Good. One new full membership, and two women came in for a tour.”
Dash flipped through paperwork and glanced outside. Yesterday’s snow had stopped, but he could tell by the white streams coming from pedestrians’ mouths that the frigid temperatures remained.
“Days like this, don’t you miss L.A.?” Hans asked.
“Nah.”
“Seriously?” The kid rested his arms on the desk. “I’d be out there in a minute if I could afford it. Sunshine, beaches, women in bikinis.” He grinned. “Is it true? Is everything out there silicone and Botox?”
Dash pulled up last month’s spreadsheets. “Most of it.”
“I don’t think I’d care. Fake or real, if I can put my hands on it, it’s good enough for me.”
“It gets old after a while,” Dash said, eyes on his computer screen.
“How long were you out there?”
“Too long. Six years on the West Coast. Three of ’em in L.A..” Worst three years of my life.
“I’d still like to see it someday.” Hans pulled on his ski jacket and hat. “Guess I’m stuck here for now, though. See you tomorrow morning.”
“Have a good one.”
Dash focused his attention back on the spreadsheets. Outside, daylight waned as the sun set and clouds crawled over the sky. This far north in New York State, winter lasted forever. He didn’t care. He’d still rather be in Whispering Pines, where people had your back, instead of someplace else where they tried to stab you in it.
The door opened with a rush of cold air, and as he looked up his fingers froze on the keyboard. It wasn’t a member. But it wasn’t a stranger, either. He knew the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman who’d just walked in. He knew of her, anyway, because she was a local the same as he was, though Sienna Cruz was way out of Dash’s league. She and Max Abbott had both just won some fancy scholarship to study in England. He’d read about it in the papers. He’d heard people talking about it. But he’d sure never seen her in his gym.
Man, she was beautiful. Her hair, shiny and black, fell almost to her waist, and her eyes changed from dark hazel to a lighter shade of brown when they caught the light. She gave him a hesitant smile, and her cheeks turned pink as she approached him.
Dash folded his arms on the desk and told himself to behave. “Welcome to Springer Fitness. How can I help you?”
Chapter Two
Sienna began to sweat ten minutes into their workout. “I don’t know anything about self-defense,” she said. “My—” boyfriend bought this for me, she almost said, then thought about changing it to ex-boyfriend, and finally didn’t finish the sentence at all. “And in case it’s not obvious, I can’t tell you the last time I worked out.” She’d jogged two laps around the room, done ten pushups, and was already gasping for air.
They were in a small studio at the back of the gym. When Dash found out she was there for the self-defense course, he’d announced they could start right then. Not really what I’d planned, she thought, though she’d brought workout clothes just in case. Stupid idea, she chastised herself now.
Dash himself had changed into navy shorts and a black tank top that showed off every muscle in his body. She tried not to stare and failed. They’d gone to school together, but he’d been quite a few years ahead of her. And never looked that good when he was eighteen. She would’ve remembered, even as a middle schooler. Now he looked like something from the cover of a magazine, beastly and dangerous and sexy all at the same time. He stood half a foot taller than she, and his face was weathered, as if he’d lived another life before settling into this one. Girl parts of her that hadn’t announced themselves in a very long time now stood up and demanded attention.
Whatever you do, don’t drool. And don’t stare at his chest. Or his arms. Or his... She yanked her gaze away from the waistband of his shorts and cursed Jason for buying her the gift certificate in the first place. Okay, sure, she’d added take self-defense to her before-leaving-for-England-to-do list. She might not be as extensive a list-maker as her best friend Max, but she still kept them. And checked them off methodically. And occasionally shared them with Jason, which meant he’d probably bought her this gift as a way of reminding her he still knew her. And hoped they’d get back together.
Thinking of Jason took care of the urges.
“I’m just going to show you some basics,” Dash was saying. “You won’t need to be in killer shape to use them. It doesn’t matter how strong you are. If you know how to manipulate the situation, you can take down an attacker.”
She glanced through the windows of the studio. Out in the rest of the gym, people blissfully walked on treadmills or lifted weights or patted themselves with towels. “I think this might be a mistake.” She’d never felt so out of her element.
He grinned and rested his enormous hands on his hips. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Ah, sure.” She crossed her arms. Maybe that would keep the girl parts at bay, along with their ridiculous chatter about being neglected for so long.
“Was this your idea or someone else’s?”
She thought about her to-do list. Sort of mine. Mostly not. She probably wouldn’t have followed through with taking self-defense if Jason hadn’t actually bought her the gift certificate. “How obvious is the answer?”
He flashed her another grin that turned her knees weak. Tattoos covered his arms, and their intricate designs distracted her. He had ink on both legs too, which made for one heck of a piece of artwork standing across from her. She’d heard the stories about Dash Springer and his reputation with women. Being this close to him, she had no doubt they were true.
She took a step back to put some distance between them. “I’m actually moving to London in July.”
“Think I heard about that.”
“You did?”
“It was in the paper, right?”
She nodded.
“Are you surprised I read the paper?”
“No.” She felt herself redden. “I mean, not many people do, that’s all.” Of course she was surprised. Men who looked like Dash didn’t spend time reading the paper, at least not in her experience. Not like you have a lot of experience with men like Dash.