Chapter Thirteen
Familiar sensations hit him from all angles. The harsh clank of weighted metal plates banging together. The whirring and heavy clop of feet pounding on a treadmill belt. Men and women wiping perspiration from their brows. The subtle stench of sweat that never seemed to vacate the air in the gym.
Muscles he hadn’t used in far too long twitched as though anticipating the abuse they were about to take. But instead of dreading it, both he and his muscles were chomping at the bit to get a good workout in. For a SEAL, grueling physical activity was the norm. A part of everyday life. Running, pushups, pull ups, obstacle courses, swimming, martial arts. You name it, his team did it. Every single day. Along with guns, knives, bombs, and basically every weapon the military utilized, their bodies were just as deadly a weapon.
At first, their bodies struggled under the huge physical strain required of them. Hell Week during BUDS training couldn’t have been more aptly named. But as time went on, he and his teammates became so accustomed to placing high demands on their bodies, they almost came to crave the intense physical workouts.
Even after leaving the Navy, he’d worked out religiously. In the gym, running on trails, sparring with Brett, shooting at a local range. They hadn’t kept to the level of the SEALS, but no one could accuse either of them of being slouches.
Until now, anyway. Well, until almost two years ago when Katie’s treatment and care became so time consuming, he gave it up.
With a snort, he made his way to an unoccupied treadmill. That wasn’t entirely true. In fact, it was a cop-out. They would have found a way to make it work. Alyssa would have been more than willing to pick up the slack and stay with Katie while he exercised. Hell, Roxie or Brett would have as well.
His inability to deal with the helplessness and failure of every bomb they threw at Katie’s illness had him drawing away from it as he’d drawn away from Lyss and everything else in his life. Looking at it now, from a bit of distance, he could really see how he should have kept up with the workouts. Tiring himself out would have helped him sleep. Taxing his muscles to fatigue would have given him an outlet for all the negativity and stress in his life at the time. The quiet time afforded by miles of running would have given him time to process his thoughts and emotions in a more constructive manner than shoving them into a box in his mind.
Hindsight.
The clear-eyed motherfucker.
He stepped on the revolving tread, stuck his earbuds in his ears, and moved through some basic stretches before firing up the machine. Ten minutes into a steady jog, sweat ran down his face in rivers, his heart pounded like the drum solo to Wipe Out, and his leg muscles screamed in agony.
Shit, he was in worse shape than he’d assumed.
Pathetic.
After another five minutes, he started to find his groove. Sure, he’d still be left in the dust if he was stupid enough to try to race Brett, but instead of feeling like he was dying, he was enjoying the push-pull of his muscles as he ran.
“Excuse me! Hey, dude, can you hear me?” a woman to his left asked.
Without slowing his pace, he paused the music and yanked an earbud out. A woman in barely-there running shorts and a tight-fitting tank stood in the center of the treadmill to next to his. She was cute, with black hair in a high ponytail, colorful hibiscus tattoos running from her right elbow to shoulder, and hoops through her eyebrow and nose.
“Were you talking to me?” he asked.
“Yeah, sorry to bother you. Just wanted to tell you your ink rocks. Some of the best work I’ve seen.” The girl, probably in her early twenties, pointed to his left arm.
He had a full sleeve, most of it done since he left the Navy, with various tribal tattoos, a few nods to his SEAL brothers, both fallen and living, but the one she stared at was on his forearm. A baby’s footprint with angel wings and spanning the entire length and width of his large forearm.
The footprint was copied directly from Katie’s baby print, stamped just minutes after birth. He’d done the ink work himself, no easy feat, but it was too personal for another artist. Katie, as many little girls, was obsessed with all things pink and purple, so he’d done the foot in vibrant swirls of those colors. The wings were golden. He didn’t give a shit that it wasn’t the most masculine of tattoos out there. It was bright, colorful, and cheerful, exactly how Katie should be remembered.
“Thanks,” he said as he lifted the earbud back to his ear.
“Where’d you get it done?”
He sighed. Where was she going with this? If she wanted to talk ink, he’d give her a few minutes of his time, but if she was looking for something more than that, she was out of luck. He could appreciate a pretty face, as he was sure Lyss could appreciate an attractive man, but that was as far as it went. In all the years he and Lyss had been together, he hadn’t felt so much as a flicker of interest in another woman. Even innocent flirting was a waste of his time and he never engaged in it.
“Place in Adams Morgan. Enjoy your run.” There. A dismissal without being an asshole.
The girl chuckled. “I can take a hint. But, dude, I get it. You’re married. I can clearly see the wedding ring you keep flashing my way while pretending you’re not doing it on purpose.” She laughed again then hit some buttons on her treadmill and started a fast walk. “Promise I’m not interested in anything more than some ink talk. You’re not that good looking.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Ego, much?”
Good thing it took a fuck of a lot to embarrass him, because he’d be mortified if it didn’t. And she’d whacked that nail right on the head. He’d been not so discretely angling his left hand so she had a clear view of his wedding ring. He chuckled. Did kind of make him seem like an egotistical bastard.
“Ah, sorry about that. And I did the ink myself.” He held up his arm, with Katie’s tat facing toward the girl. “That one, anyway.”
She whistled. “Damn, now I’m even more impressed. You’ve got some serious talent. Name’s Thea by the way.”
“Thanks. I’m Derek. And that’s some pretty impressive work you’ve had done as well.”
She smiled and peeked at her shoulder. “Wait—you said a shop in Adam’s Morgan? Wouldn’t happen to be Trident Ink, would it?”
What the hell? His shop was well known in the area, but they hadn’t done her tattoo. He’d have remembered it for sure. It was some damn fine work. The flowers almost looked three dimensional, like they were lifting right off her skin. “That’s the one. I own it. Heard of us, huh? We didn’t do that shoulder.”
“Nah. Had this done in Texas, where I’m from. Just moved here actually and in a strange twist of fate, I have an interview tomorrow at your shop for the piercer position.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “No shit?” Brett was going to love her, maybe too much.
“No shit,” she responded.
“Pretty damn small world, huh? Hope you’re not nervous. It will be pretty laid back. I’m assuming you’ve spoken to Brett? He’s my business partner and the other piercer.”
She nodded then increased the speed on the treadmill until she was running at nearly his pace. Geeze, he had at least eight inches on her and she had no problem keeping time with him.
Pathetic.
“Yeah, he seems great. He said he’d be the one conducting the interview.”
“He will.” Derek considered her for a second. She was young, probably not very experienced, but friendly and probably great with customers. Sometimes personality trumped experience, not skill necessarily, but just because she was inexperienced didn’t mean she wouldn’t be skilled at the job.
He liked her. She’d be a great addition to the shop. “Hey, I’ll give you a tip to get on Brett’s good side right off the bat. There’s a quick mart down the block from the shop, owned by a great guy named Farhad. Drop my name, let him know you need a large of Brett’s favorite. He’ll hook you up and you’ll have Brett wrapped around your finger in no time.”
Her face lit up with a radiant smile. She’d obviously understood she had the boss’s seal of approval. “Thanks. I’ll do that.” She started to replace her headphones then turned toward him again. “Wait, what’s his favorite?”
Derek snickered. “Mocha latte, heavy on the syrup and extra whip.”
A startled laugh bubbled out of Thea. “You’re kidding me? Not the most macho of drinks. Brett told me you were both former SEALS.”
“Yep. He claims that’s why he drinks it. Too many mornings drinking shitty black coffee in the desert. Likes to indulge.”
“Well, can’t fault him for that. Well, I’ll let you get to it. The longer I talk, the more chance I have of saying something stupid and completely ruining my chances of getting the job even before the interview.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, but I should focus. I need to at least pretend you wouldn’t kick my ass in a race.”
She smiled and shoved her earbuds in her ears. “Good talking to you. See you tomorrow.” Her ponytail bobbed in time with her steps and she was starting to huff and puff.
Thank God. He could hang on to his man card for another day.
Derek ticked his speed up a few notches and increased his stride. No sense in exercising if he wasn’t going to push himself.
The friendly Thea would be a nice addition to their team. Hopefully Brett could resist the temptation to come on to her. They really needed a second piercer and did not need a sexual harassment suit. Not that women ever complained when Brett turned his attention toward them, but there was a first time for everything.
Piercing had become an integral part of their business. Much more than he’d ever anticipated. When they opened shop, Brett barely had enough to keep him busy. But now? Well now they had a waiting list the length of his arm. Hence the interview.
Excitement bubbled under his skin. The shop he’d worked so hard to grow and nurture had made quite a name for itself. And it was continuing to expand. His dream had really come true.
He couldn’t wait to tell Lyss. Both about the potential for increased business as well as about the interviewee herself. For some reason, he had a feeling the two would hit it off.
Huh.
That was the first time in a while he’d been excited to share some news with Lyss.
Really it was the first time he’d felt a spark of life about anything. He’d gone through the motions at work, like everything else in his life, but he’d feared he’d lost his passion for it. But now, he felt it again. Enthusiasm. Pride in his business. The desire to work hard and see the results of his efforts.
He smiled and increased his pace yet again.
He was starting to feel human again. And all it took was twenty-five minutes of sweat and fatigue.
Well, that and a few sweaty hours with his wife.