His Kind of Perfection

She swore the blue of Kale’s eyes deepened at least two hues as he leaned toward her. “You make that sound so sensual.” The huskiness in his voice sent a shiver scampering through her.

She covered her reaction by crossing her arms across her chest, pretending she was cold from the freezers. “Nothing’s sexier than food,” she told him. “Learn that secret, and...what’s her name?”

He looked confused. “Who?”

“The girlfriend that you’re working on getting back.”

“Oh. Addy.”

Bree leaned in and whispered, “Learn the secret correlation between sex and food, and Addy will worship at your feet.”

“Yeah?” A twinkle lightened the blue eyes back to their normal gorgeousness, and Kale stepped ceremoniously up to the freezer door and opened it. “Then I shall choose carefully.” A minute later, he brandished the two cartons in front of her. “I trust these meet your approval.”

She couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes at his choices—Tame the Wild Cherry and Hunky Banana with Nuts.

This guy was going to be a handful.

* * *

AS SHE WAITED for her ten o’clock client, Bree used the few minutes to jot some notes in Kale Barlow’s file.

He was as motivated as anyone she’d ever met—determined to the point of being stubborn, but with a comfortable manner that made his faults easy to overlook. She tried to imagine what Addy was like. What kind of woman wouldn’t enjoy being with a guy who even made buying groceries fun?

She recalled one of Kale’s comments during their shopping excursion last night when she’d suggested that, if he really wanted a flatter belly, giving up alcohol for a few weeks would make a visible difference.

The poor guy had looked aghast. “I’m already feeling guilty about drinking light beer while I listen to my country music. If I gave up beer completely, I’d have to switch to one of those classical stations.” He faked a shudder. “No woman is worth that.”

Bree chuckled aloud at the memory.

“You’re certainly in a good mood this morning.”

Bree looked up to find John Dunn standing in the doorway of her office.

“Morning, John. No sucking up here, but I really love this job.”

A smile relaxed the gym owner’s normally tense facial features. “I’m glad to hear that.” He stepped aside, and a young woman appeared from behind him. “I want to introduce you to Elena Fremont. She’s going to run the snack bar.” He turned to the young woman. “This is Bree Rice, Gil’s sister.”

To say she was surprised at John’s choice would have been an understatement. Elena looked nothing at all like someone Bree would have expected her serious-minded boss to hire. The young woman, or girl—it was hard to tell with all the makeup she wore—sported thick black eyeliner encircling large brown eyes, whose lids were heavy with lime-green metallic eye shadow. Her long, straight hair—obviously dyed to the abnormal black shade—had multicolored streaks running through it.

“Hi, Elena. It’s nice to meet you.”

Rather than shaking Bree’s extended hand, Elena slapped it lightly. “S’up. Call me Lanie.”

“Okay.” Feeling out of sync with the newcomer, Bree dropped her hand to her side. “You’re going to be busy...Lanie.” She forced her gaze to stay locked on the girl’s eyes instead of sneaking up to the three silver rings piercing the right brow or down to peek at the bright blue lip liner that called attention to the purple mouth. Or what looked like an emerald perched on the ridge of her left nostril. “A lot of the clients have been asking when the bar’s going to open.”

“That your sandwich in the fridge?” Lanie threw a thumb in the direction of the snack bar.

“Yes.” Bree nodded.

“You’ll have to get it out of there and put it in the employee lounge. I don’t want people using my fridge for stuff from home. Health inspectors, you know?”

Bree’s jaw tightened at the girl’s abruptness, but she held her tongue. She looked at John to see his response.

He seemed unfazed, except the perpetual frown was back. “Gil gave Elena total charge of the area. He’s anxious to get things moving.”

Bree swallowed her irritation. If Lanie was Gil’s choice, he must’ve seen some potential. She herself was living proof that, when it came to business decisions, he didn’t make exceptions. Everybody was held to the same strict standards.

Bree turned back to Lanie. “I’ll get it out of there right now.”

Lanie nodded as if to say, Of course you will, but, thankfully, didn’t say it.

“Bree is busy.” John pointed toward the weight room. “And I want to introduce you to the others.”

Without so much as a ta-ta or a backward glance, the two left Bree’s office. On her way to the snack bar, she paused just outside her door, watching them.

With her flip-flops, cutoff jean short shorts, Muppet T-shirt and studded dog collar, Lanie looked like a lost soul.

She either needed fixing or her ass kicked. At the moment, Bree wasn’t sure which.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_3f039d57-7728-5ab6-bb00-0c190e40f687)

SNACKING ON HEALTHY FOOD, eating smaller meals but more often, and two weeks of training with Bree had taken another six pounds off Kale. He couldn’t be more pleased...or more surprised.

Bree knew her stuff. She knew just how far to push him without making it grueling, all the while managing to keep things fresh and interesting. Like this evening. Her text simply read: Today we take it to the next level,which brought all kinds of wild imaginings into his head—none of which were appropriate in regard to his personal trainer. At their last session, she’d told him she had an idea, but it would remain a secret until tonight. She was coming to the marina, and he was instructed to wear something he could “knock around in.”

He had to admit, he was intrigued, which must have accounted for the way his heartbeat kicked up when he heard her pull into the parking lot. He hurried out to meet her.

“What’s this?” He pointed to the old pickup she crawled out of—a far cry from the little sports car she usually drove.

“My dad’s old truck.” Bree gave the door a loving pat. “It doesn’t get used much anymore, so I thought it was time we gave it—and you—a real-time workout.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as they cut to the bed of the truck, which was loaded down with something heavy and covered with a faded blue tarp. “You have those work gloves I asked about?”

Kale pulled a pair from his coverall pocket and wiggled the loose fingers against her nose, drawing a girlish giggle. “I don’t have any smalls.”

“That’s okay.” She swiped the pair from him and slipped her hand into one of them. The glove dwarfed her hand.

“You want to take a look around before we get started?” He waved his hand toward the store and his home in the back.

She grinned and shook her head. “You’re stalling, Kale. Yes, I do want to look around. In fact, I want to have a good look around. But that can wait until we need a breather. First, we have business to attend to.” She tugged the tarpaulin, revealing the old truck’s mystery load.

Bricks. A huge pile of them.

Kale scratched his head. “What are we gonna do with these?

She smacked his biceps lightly with the back of her fingers. “We’re going to unload them.” Bree said it matter-of-factly, as if her intent was obvious. She glanced around and shrugged. “Where will they be out of your way?”

“Are they staying here?”

She nodded in response.