Since many of his clients were service veterans in wheelchairs, the gym included some of the same equipment that was at the rehab center. Which meant Rory could do a lot of his conditioning in Red’s more regular-feeling gym.
All of that, including the guy’s personality, made Red the perfect adaptive fitness trainer for Rory.
“You’re giving it extra effort today, my man,” Red said, spotting him on the parallel bars. Rory had braces strapped on his legs to keep them straight and locked as he grunted through getting from one end of the bars to the other.
“Not that you’re ever a slacker,” the trainer continued. “Except at the beginning, when you were whining about some dumbass problem with your legs.”
Rory shot the personal trainer a strained though amused look. “Let’s see you do pull ups with a chair strapped to your ass.”
Red spread his hands out with a grin, then smoothly reached for Rory’s hips as he wobbled. “Nope, got it,” he bit out.
“Know you do,” Red said, while keeping close, his steel-grey eyes sharp. “Gotta look like you’re paying me to do something.”
Standing cardio was important for lower body circulation, internal organ function, as well as giving his hip and upper torso muscles a workout, but it was never fun. When he’d first started to do it, it was hell. And not just during the PT sessions. The lure of painkillers to ease the aftermath was a whole other battle. Most everyone in a chair dealt with certain levels of pain, but some days could be worse than others.
However, today’s pain was a welcome reminder that he’d used some muscles last night he hadn’t used in a while. Since Red didn’t miss much, he caught the difference in Rory’s attitude over it.
“Uh-oh. I know that look. Part caveman, hear me roar, part dork-in-love. Did you finally lay it out there for that sweet little girl you work with?”
Rory just shot him a grin, though the effort cost him his grip on the bar. Red was there, though, getting him back on track and focused. He saved further conversation until Rory made it to the end and got unstrapped, back in the chair.
“Take a breath.” Red handed him a bottle of water, knowing Rory would need it before moving to the next station. The standing cardio machine was an automated contraption that would straighten his body, hold it upright with the aid of secure straps as Rory worked his arms and chest.
He wouldn’t need a spotter for that, so Red excused himself a minute to check on several of his other clients. The rest of the gym looked like any other, though Red spaced out his equipment wider and everything here was disabled friendly. Rory hid a smile at the cat-eyed blonde who fastened her gaze hungrily on Red as he leaned over where she was stretched out on the weight bench. Guy got plenty of attention from his able-bodied clientele, but that was a given, the way he sported the shaved head biker look, all the tattoos and muscles. While Red wasn’t married, he’d told Rory he was occasionally tempted to put on a cheap wedding ring, just to keep the come-ons to a minimum.
“Except I’m not sure I want to know which ones wouldn’t consider that a dealbreaker,” he’d said with a grimace. “I’d rather think the best of my customers, you know?”
Now he came back to Rory, giving him a narrow look at Rory’s grin. “Shut up,” he said. “And how about you spill?”
“What do you mean? You already know who I’m jacked up about.”
Red snorted. “Not that. We’ve been working together a while, man. I know when you’ve got something on your mind. Any way I can help?”
Rory had been considering whether to broach it with Red, so he guessed there was no reason to put it off. “I need to get myself in shape for something new.”
“Gotcha. What’s the goal?”
When he hesitated, Red gave him a shrewd look. “First day, what’d I say were the two things that concern a guy the most about being in a chair?
“Taking a piss or dump on his own, and having sex that doesn’t become a circus side show.” Rory remembered it easily, because Red had said it to him a lot.
Red nodded. “I’ve heard both ends of that spectrum, and everything in between. So hit me with it. It’s just between you and me and my three million social media followers.”
“Yeah right.” Rory chuckled, but met Red’s gaze squarely. “I want to have sex on top. Beginning to end.”
Red pursed his lips. “Doable. Especially if you do a man’s job right, which means warming her up first, hot and ready as a Pop Tart.”
Rory winced. “C’mon man. This woman is important.”
“I get that. No guy in a chair is going to contemplate busting his ass for that level of conditioning unless he thinks she’s worth it.” Red put a hand on his shoulder, his expression serious. “I wasn’t disrespecting her, man. Not a bit. A woman caught up in her passion is a thing of sacred beauty, and that’s no lie.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Rory lifted a shoulder. “That was actually pretty poetic.”
“Well, a good Pop Tart is a religious experience.”
Red danced back from Rory’s right jab, fast enough it still made glancing contact with his abdomen. Probably a good thing, since hitting Red’s abs would be like bashing concrete.
“Whoa, boy’s got mad fight skills. Let’s get to it. Variety adds to the spice. Right, my man?”
Telling Red what he needed was a good thing. Rory reminded himself of that as he hiked himself from his chair into the driver’s seat of the van with muscles that throbbed. He’d need to keep moving and stretching through the day, or in short order those muscles would feel like they’d been injected with acid. Even so, when his cell rang, he almost unmanfully wept with joy at the option of pressing the button on the steering wheel to activate the handsfree. Even lifting a phone to his ear sounded like too much effort.
“Just checking in,” Thomas said. “Everything okay this morning? Daralyn waved at us when Mom picked her up to take her to Dr. Taylor’s, but we didn’t get a chance to talk to her. Wanted to make sure you’re both okay.”
“Better than,” Rory said, and meant it. “How about you guys? I know that was a little over the top.”
Thomas’s voice reflected surprise that he’d asked. “Yeah, we’re good. Mainly we were worried about her, and you. Marcus in particular.”
“Tell him that it turned out good. She’s even going with me to Florida, for that trip to look at fixtures. I’m working on scheduling coverage at the store.”
“Good.” Thomas sounded pleased. “I can take a day if you need me to. Marcus has that thing in New York, but if it doesn’t overlap, we can be here to help.”
“If I can’t get full coverage and it won’t mess you up, I may take you up on that.”
“No problem.” Thomas paused. When he spoke next, he’d lowered his voice some. “Hey, can you do me a favor?”
Rory could count on one hand the number of times those words had come out of his brother’s mouth, in the kind of tone that said the request was pretty important. “Depends. Does it involve being a backroads tour guide for the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders?”