A NEW DAY, a new attitude, a new person. Lydia wasn’t kidding when she said she would meet Declan for morning workouts. At the ass crack of dawn, however, she wished she had thought better of it. No going back on her word now, though, not after the fit she went through. She needed to prove she was made of something more than spoiled privileges – not just to Declan but to herself. It was time to discover who she was and what she was made of.

Regret wasn’t the right word for it, but the previous night’s meltdown showed a vulnerability that made her feel weak next to such a strong man. Lydia didn’t care if he saw her raw and emotional, but she needed to show Declan, and herself, that she could pick up the pieces and create a different outlook. One that was stronger, better, and less needy. She wasn’t a fool; she knew those emotional wounds were still open, raw, and not going anywhere – but she could work around them, build on them, and handle them better the next time they festered.

Conquering her new demons was the objective – Declan O’Reilly was the method. If she was going to survive this, she had to survive him. He was hard, steely, had the emotions of a root, and grunted a lot, but the night before, he had been kind and comforting, albeit awkward for him. She craved that comfort. She supposed that she had for a long time, and now it was there, right in front of her, and she was afraid to take it because of where it was coming from.

She was married, happily at one point. What did that say about her? It was becoming painfully clear that her marriage was very one-sided and that vows and honesty were optional, but she had been committed on every level. She did love Esteban, at least at one point. But now, she had to wonder; was it still love or simply habit that connected them?

When Declan’s evening of comfort and kindness can give her more than her entire marriage could, she had to assume it was just habit. Despite the realization, she was still married, and she needed to remember that. The old Lydia had died – figuratively anyway – and she wouldn’t let the new her be a lesser version who lacked a moral compass.

This was a chance to be a better version of herself, a real life do over. Starting with Declan’s morning boot camp. She wanted to exceed his expectations – for him to eat crow after that smirk he gave her on the matter. Truth be told, she wanted to exceed her own expectation and overcome all of her pampered obstacles. Being up before the sun was a good start.

She dug through her single bag, looking for something to wear. Declan did most of her packing, and he was as practical as a they came. Neither had been thinking about clothing options for exercise; it was a pack and get the hell out situation. She pulled out a tank top and pair of sleep shorts, though, that left her feeling a bit on display.

They were just clothes, and she was just going to exercise. She was dressed to sweat and make a point while grabbing a healthy workout, too. The new her wasn’t interested in turning this into a fashion show, nor was she dressing to impress anyone.

Declan was surprised to see her so early. At home, she tended to sleep later, letting the nanny tend to Jax first thing. It wasn’t because she was an uninvolved parent, but because she stayed up half the night, waiting for her asshole husband. A husband who didn’t come home most nights.

He felt that pinch in his chest again – she was a loyal, doting, wife – spoiled but loving, and Esteban couldn’t be bothered to appreciate what he had in her. She was the woman you wanted to come home to, proud to call your own. Declan was glad Esteban was out of the picture, and she got a second chance at a life she much more deserved.

He hoped that her death, staged as it was, pained Esteban more than it pained her. He also hoped her pain was enough to steer her clear of assholes like Esteban. For that, he felt slightly guilty, but only for a second, maybe two, because she deserved the world, and if a broken heart lead her to something better, so be it.

“You’re up,” he said, completely unprepared for her.

“Yeah, well…exercise,” she said, tossing her arms in the air with equal parts enthusiasm and sarcasm. “So, are we going to talk, or are we going to do push-ups or something?”

“Something like that,” he chuckled, “are you…ya know…good?”

She smiled sweetly, knowing exactly what he meant. He was checking on her. It was sweet and endearing. “I am. I am all good. One hundred percent…no…one hundred and ten percent good. For now. Let’s…sweat.”

“Alright then. Let’s stretch real quick, and we’ll start with a run around the ponds.” He matched her smile, happy to see that despite all she was forced to work through, she was fighting back and finding her way. This was the Lydia he knew – the one she was destined to be.

“The ponds, as in, there’s more than one?” She had underestimated their playing field it seemed.

“Yes, more than one. This one here,” he said, turning and pointing to the pond just off their deck, “is the smallest. There’s a dozen of them out here between the tree’s and such. We’ll mostly run the perimeter and let nature work us out.”

“Okay.” A nervous squeak entered the equation when she looked at the size of their pond as the smallest and thought times twelve. “Re-ready when you are.”

Declan ran her into the ground. It wasn’t intentional. He just took his cue from her. The more he pushed, the harder she pushed back, and it was good for her. She persevered, overcame every obstacle he tossed at her, no matter how painful or hard. Exercise imitating real life? Definitely.

There was never a plan to go easy on her or lighten the work out; she either kept up, or she didn’t. He was pleasantly surprised by her actions. Sure, she tripped over a log she was supposed to jump back and forth over. Then, she underestimated a puddle that she attempted to hurdle and fell ass first in the marshy gunk that surrounded one of the ponds. A twisted ankle and sprained thumb later, she came out the other side covered in mud and sweat, feeling stronger than when she started, even if she could no longer breathe or stand upright.

Every emotion she had been faced with, every fear or superficial tantrum was left out on their course. He had no doubt there was plenty more to work on, but her drive was born of circumstance and desire. The desire to overcome, and she did.

The final quarter mile had her much slower than he was, but he waited on the back deck with a bottle of water for her in hand.

“Thirsty?” he asked, handing her the water.

“God, yes,” she panted, taking the water and collapsing in one of the outside chairs.

“I wouldn’t drink that too fast or sit right away. That was a hard workout. Stretch, let your body…”

He didn’t finish his thought before she stood quickly, standing on her tip toes, dancing around in pain, “Ooh, ouch, ooh, ouch. My toes, they’re…ooh, ouch.”

“Cramping. That’s why you need to stretch and cool down first. Just do what I do.” He led her in some easy cool down stretching while she caught her breath. “You’ll want to drink a lot of water, stay hydrated, or that will keep happening.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll remember that.” She smiled, despite the aches and exhaustion.

“You did good out there. I’m a little impressed. Tomorrow will be easier. You know the route now and what to expect,” he said, drinking his own water.

Shocked, she turned to him wide eyed. “Tomorrow?”

“I do this every day – twice around actually. You don’t have to though. You’ll probably be too sore tomorrow.” He teased her knowing it would get a reaction out of her, and that it would also ensure that she accompanied him again.

“Oh, I’ll be there. I can do it. Before you know it, I’ll have a big, beautiful body like yours with all the…muscles, and…that came out wrong.” Embarrassed by her unintentional admission, she dropped her head to hide her crimson cheeks.

“Uh huh, beautiful, like me…got it.” Laughter escaped him, a sound she didn’t hear too often.

A dramatic teasing eye roll later, she added, “Just forget I even said that part. I don’t think I can fix it, no matter what I say, so…forget it.”

“Got it.” He appeased her with a playful wink as he headed into the house. “Why don’t you hit the shower first.”

“We can shower at the same time, if you want to.” It wasn’t until Declan turned around with raised eyebrows and a sultry stare that she realized what she had said. “Oh, my God. I mean…we have two showers. We can shower together…in different showers!”

“Thanks for clearing that up.” He tried not to sound disappointed. “You need the heat and water pressure for your muscles, or you’ll be sore by evening.”

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.” Without another word or eye contact, she walked around him and went to her room and closed the door.

Her abundance of confidence and stubborn disposition left him laughing. Despite her insistence that she didn’t need the head start on the hot water, he knew she would, even if it meant he took a cold one. He needed one.

She worked hard trying to keep up, and every bend, crunch, and pull up in those tiny shorts flashed the bottom curve of her perfect ass and ample cleavage her tiny tank left on display for his viewing pleasure. His favorite was the bounce of said tits that matched that of her perfect ass when she ran or jumped.

He tried not to look, but with his hands around her waist, helping her through pull ups, and holding her unstill feet through crunches made that an impossible task. An uncomfortable sensation stirred him from his thoughts. His shorts began to tighten – that cold shower was no longer a maybe but a must, and he’d likely have to toss in a romantic gesture with his hand to relieve the lusty thoughts she inspired in him.

Declan was a gentleman and a professional, who knew where to draw the line. Lydia challenged that line, though, like no one else ever had. He couldn’t give in to her unintentional allure and act on urges that were nothing more than the result of a lengthy dry spell. As soon as this was over, he needed to get laid. In the meantime, these morning workouts just may be the death of him.

Finally ready for the day, he searched the house for Lydia without any luck. She had long since been out of the shower; he heard it turn off before starting his, but she never left her room. With the door closed, he gently knocked to no answer. Though he knew they were safe, for now, a stir of unease got the better of him. Whether it was something sinister, or just a relapse of her emotions, he opened the door, prepared for anything. Always her protector.

The anxiety softened when all he found was Lydia sound asleep on top of her already made bed, still wrapped in her towel. He paused to take her in since staring in general was rude – if she didn’t know, it didn’t count. She was peaceful, her expression free of worry or anger. He hoped her dreams were equally void of anguish, hence the expression.

Moving closer, he placed a bottle of water on her nightstand that he had grabbed from the kitchen when passing through, looking for her. When he pulled the folded blanket from the foot of her bed over her, Lydia’s glistening skin, still wet from the shower, had his attention. So did the goosebumps he created when he slid the blanket up her body. Fully aware that he caused those goosebumps, he reminded himself of the cold shower he had taken only moments before to tame the virility that threatened an embarrassing outcome.

She snuggled into the blanket, her new-found comfort tempting him to join her. He hated himself for the thoughts crossing his mind and the vision of her that was now and forever engrained in his mind. It lacked control, completely impulse driven and as far from professional as he’d ever been.

This wasn’t like him; Lydia was under his skin in a good way that left him bad. She’d played a role in his silent affections for some time, despite his best efforts – she was married after all, and he wasn’t a homewrecker.

He didn’t even have time for anything other than a one-night stand with a girl who didn’t even know his name – anything more, and he had an instant target in bed next to him. That thought alone, as he slowly backed away from Lydia’s bedside, excusing himself from her room, was the cold shower he needed. Even if there were mutual affections, at some point, there could be no future. His life was far too dangerous, full of too many enemies, and he would protect her from it all by protecting her from himself.