Chapter Twenty-Five
Sam knew Garrett was putting her through all this for her own good. And after his comment that she looked sexy, it was probably for the best that she leave the cabin for a little while. Before she did something to embarrass herself.
Like kiss him.
“If you make it back in less than half an hour, I won’t make you do it tomorrow night,” Garrett offered.
A half hour would have been doable in the daylight. Close, but doable. But at night?
Damn.
He winked. “We’ll be doing hand-to-hand combat when your shoulder heals. You can hit me then.”
She did feel a little better at the prospect of smacking the crap out of the man.
But she didn’t make it back to the house within the time limit. Not that night.
Or the next night.
Or the next.
A week later, she finally completed the task in only twenty-eight minutes. She leaped for joy when she got back, while Garrett simply smiled and grunted his approval.
“It’s about freakin’ time,” he said, but she could tell he was proud of her.
In the days they’d been living together, she’d learned a few things about him. Like, he was only pretending to be mean. Under the gruff drill instructor mask, he was a kind, happy guy who liked playing poker.
They’d stayed up late one night, betting with pretzel sticks. She’d had a pretty nice stack, until a couple of bad hands wiped her out.
Every night before she went to bed, he would check her wounds. And he would peek in her room to make sure she was okay before he went to his own room. The stand next to her bed held her own Glock now. And she had become a pretty good shot.
One morning, a few weeks after they’d arrived he checked her shoulder after breakfast and nodded. “Combat training today. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.”
She went to her room and changed before going down the carpeted stairs into what had to be the training room. The walls were white and the floor was covered in black rubber. There were three concrete columns running down the room but the rest of the area was open. The back wall housed a rack of free weights, as well as wooden weapons—staffs and swords.
She gazed around the room as he walked over to her shaking his head.
“Nuh-uh. Go change your pants,” he ordered abruptly and pointed toward the stairs.
“Why?” She looked down at her yoga pants and hoodie.
He let out an exasperated sigh. His blue eyes were like flames. “Is it not bad enough I have to see your lacy little panties when we do laundry? Now I’m expected to squirm around on a mat with you in those pants? Oh, no. I don’t think so. Go put on some jeans. You would most likely be fighting in jeans, anyway.” He pointed again toward the stairs, but more forcefully.
“You’re such a baby,” she said, but she had to admit it made her feel a little powerful that she had affected him in that way. Or at least, her panties and yoga pants had.
“Go change. Hurry up.”
“Fine.” She smiled the whole way up to her room, but managed to wipe the satisfied grin off her face when she went back downstairs.
“Better?” She waved her hands down her hips.
“I guess so.”
“Just so you know, I’m wearing lacy panties under my jeans.”
He ignored her and gestured her over to the mat. “A couple of rules,” he said. “Don’t kick me in the Magic Kingdom. It’s a sucky girl move. And it’s usually ineffective because it’s expected.” He held up his finger like he was scolding her.
But she was still stuck a sentence back. “Magic Kingdom?” She raised her brows.
“Would you like to call it something else?”
“Uh. No. I’d like to ignore it completely,” she said, then sang, “Pre-ten-tious,” under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
He rolled his eyes. “Just don’t go there. It’s an obvious attack. Whoever will be coming after you is going to be trained and they’ll be expecting it. It’s fine on your run-of-the-mill muggers or rapists, though.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“Next. Anything can be used as a weapon, even if it’s only to distract your attacker. What do you have on you right now?”
She checked her pockets and shook her head. “Just the panties. Sorry.”
He walked up and stood in front of her, looking her over. Before she realized what was happening, she was lying flat on her back with the string from her hoodie wrapped around her neck, choking the life out of her.
He released the cord and she coughed on the ground for a few seconds before she sat up and shot him a dirty look.
“You could have just pointed it out.” She rubbed her throat, scowling.
“I did.” He shrugged and moved on. “Like I said, anything can be a weapon. A book, a cell phone, anything. You just have to figure out how to use it to your advantage, and you don’t have a lot of time to think about it. But you seem pretty resourceful—you figured out how to get away from two U.S. Marshals. So you have a brain in your head. Just think and act.”
“Think and act. Right.”
“If you truly have nothing else, you’re left with your hands and feet. We already discussed where not to go. Now I’ll show you what you should be doing.”
She knew this part was not going to be verbal, but as he stepped in front of her, she indicated her shoulder. “Can you take it easy on the Pekinese?”
He smiled and gave her a brief nod. “Normally, that would be the best place for me to go. If you know your attacker is wounded, that’s your strike point.”
He showed her moves from every direction possible. If someone was coming up behind her. Straight on attack, from the left and right. From the ground, once she’d gotten him down. Standing above her, after he’d thrown her on the mat.
They practiced and practiced until they both worked up a sweat. After a bowl of cereal for lunch, they were back at it. He threw her around so much she thought she might see her Lucky Charms again.
One thing was becoming very clear. He had muscles everywhere…and touching him all day was starting to take its toll on her attention span.
She’d thrown him to the ground and he’d kicked her feet out from under her. She used the force of her fall to land on him with her elbow at his throat, but he’d deflected it, causing her to land on him with their faces inches apart.
It felt like a movie, where a string of events put the would-be lovers in close proximity, causing them to look into each other’s eyes and finally kiss.
She and Garrett looked at each other for a few seconds. She moved a little closer, but instead of him moving in to take up the slack, he whispered, “Don’t do it.”
“Why not?” Her heart was pounding so fast she could feel it in her temples.
“Kisses change things.”
“We already kissed. Or have you forgotten?” she asked.
“That was different. This would be real.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Their voices were barely audible. Never in any of the movies did the would-be lovers have a discussion about what would happen after the kiss. She frowned. He was ruining the moment.
“I don’t like complications,” he said. “I don’t like strings attached. And you with your lacy panties came with an actual chain instead of strings. So, I really don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“I don’t care what you think,” she said, and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.
For someone who didn’t think it was a good idea, he sure went along with the plan. His tongue met hers, and after a few moments he rolled her over so he was on top of her.
Her stitches protested slightly, but she didn’t care at that point. The pleasure of kissing him overrode any pain. Something hard throbbed against her leg as their tongues intertwined. His hands were in her hair and he moaned when she caught his lip between her teeth.
This was happening. She was going to have sex with this hot, muscular hero.
He was right. Kissing him like this was way different than that night in hallway. Back then, he was a stranger.
Now, he was her protector. Her trainer.
Hers.