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Guilty as Sin (Sinful, Montana Book 1) by Rosalind James (16)

 

 

She’d surprised him, jumping out of the ute like that. Again. He followed her inside, which gave him more chance to notice the hitch in her gait. He wasn’t meant to notice it, apparently, or any other sign of weakness, either. Although, of course, her helping him was fine.

She was, in short, the most confusing woman he’d ever met. And she just kept on doing it. Now, she paused just this side of the desk and said, “How long are you spending?”

“Whatever you like. Hour?”

“Hour’s good,” she said, then went through the turnstile, said hello to Charlotte, collected her towel, and headed off.

Charlotte looked after her a moment, then turned to Jace, smiled, and said, “You’re getting pretty consistent here.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Brought a partner with me this time to help me with that.” He inclined his head toward Lily, who was already heading into the locker room. “Workout partner.” Which she wasn’t looking anything like, so he’d need to put in some effort to advertise her presence. Which had been the bloody point. No envelope-signal in the bed of the ute, a beautiful woman by his side, and if necessary, a “not interested in you” sign around his neck for his stalker.

“She’s not here very often,” Charlotte said. “I don’t think she likes exercise all that much. Even though she always has the best outfits for it.”

“You could be wrong,” he said.

Her face crumpled, and he felt like he’d kicked a puppy. She muttered, “Enjoy your workout.”

It didn’t look likely. Since he was doing it alone.

He started with the rowing machine, as usual, and when Lily came out of the locker room dressed in a pair of purple flowered workout tights with an overlay of dark-purple lace around the waist, a matching exercise bra that featured more lace at the back, and too much body for his peace of mind, he didn’t look her over nearly as well as he might have. But he definitely noticed her walking over and climbing onto the machine beside him.

He asked, “I’m irresistible, am I, despite your qualms?” He wanted to check her out better, now that she was this close. And this undressed. He didn’t.

She laughed out loud, sounding like she was surprised to be doing it, but didn’t answer, just adjusted the resistance considerably down and began to row. He saw the twist of her mouth that she couldn’t control and wanted to say something about it, but he’d learned his lesson. At last, she said, with some tightness in her voice that he knew was pain, “Dream on. It’s what I’d do normally. My warm-up. And I did agree to help you.”

“Even if you’re scared.”

“I am not scared. I thought we established that.”

“Darling,” he said, “I don’t think you’re armed anymore.”

She gave him a level look. “Just try me.”

“I would,” he said, “but I’m not allowed. Bugger.”

He earned another laugh for that, which made him grin, and she said, “Just row and look longingly at me, then, in case your stalker’s around.” She nodded at the little knot of women at the juice bar. “One of the group hanging out after yoga, maybe? About to walk casually by your truck? Creepy as hell, not knowing who she is. Odd, too. Stalkers usually announce themselves. They want you to know they’re there, and who they are. It’s what they get off on.”

“It is, is it. I only know what I read online.”

A pause, then she asked, “Did you go to the cops like I said?”

“Yeah. Talked to a bloke named Worthington. Know him?”

Again the hesitation, then, “Not sure. What did he say?”

“Basically, that I’m a lucky bastard. And a liar.”

“A liar? Even after you showed him your evidence? Tell me he took a report, at least.”

“Oh, he did that. For what it’s worth. Put it that he had trouble getting excited about it as a serious problem. I was half expecting him to say that he wished somebody would stalk him. It was on the tip of his tongue.”

“Absolutely unprofessional.” She was rowing faster now. “What, men can’t be stalked? Of course they can. It’s a disgusting crime, whoever does it. Taking away somebody’s peace of mind. Taking away their freedom. It’s right up there with domestic abuse. In fact, it’s the same, because it’s the same guys. He’s saying he’ll control her one way or another. Or in your case, she’ll control him. Which is just as bad.” She sounded like she was going to dash straight out and tackle Sergeant Worthless. Literally.

“No worries,” he said. “She’s not going to control me. And that wasn’t all of it. Sadly. I’m afraid it was my inadequate manhood as well. That I hadn’t hooked up with any possible suspects, although that was probably a lie, what with my readers sending me naked photos and all. Clearly an offer no red-blooded man would refuse. I was meant to be swiping right at the pub as well. I’m either a liar or a pussy who’s wasting his chances. He wasn’t sure which.”

A long silence, then she stopped rowing, replaced the handle, picked up her water bottle and her towel, and said, “We’ve both done enough of this. At least I have. Fifty minutes.”

Running away again.

 

 

Do better, Paige told herself. Way too much information shared. Way too far off Lily. Time to shift gears. And not think about whether Jace had been wasting his chances or not.

She was wearing flowery workout clothes. With lace. A thing she hadn’t known existed, to the point where she’d had to hold them up and stare at them to make sure they actually were workout clothes.

She was Lily, dammit.

Medicine ball. Focus.

Which was why she was holding the heavy ball, squatting low, then twisting to her left and raising it high overhead, breathing her way through the discomfort, when somebody stopped beside her. Not a man devastated by her fabulous femininity in her flowery outfit. A slim brunette with a ponytail, a woman Paige had seen the day before. A trainer, probably, because she watched her do her final two reps before switching to her right side, the hard side. Before she could start, the woman asked, “Do you mind a little feedback?”

Paige would have said, “No, thanks.” Lily wouldn’t. She stood up, still holding the ball, and said, “Sure.”

“It’s not always a good idea to start out at your max,” the woman said. She was wearing a name tag. Kelli. “If you haven’t been doing a regular routine, I’d suggest not working the same muscle groups every day. And you’re pushing too hard. When it’s that much of a strain, I’d recommend a rest day between workouts, or at least a lower-intensity day.”

“Thanks,” Paige said. “But I don’t know why you’d think I wasn’t doing a regular routine.”

The woman smiled. Condescendingly. Which made Paige long to challenge her to a set of burpees. Or possibly just hit her, seeing as Paige would lose the contest. Stupid leg. Kelli said, “Maybe you’ve been doing something at home, but I haven’t seen you in here for a long time, and it looks to me like you’re overdoing it. A home workout really isn’t the same, and a medicine ball’s a better choice for later on. I can set you up with an introductory session if you like, and get you started on a program. If you ramp up gradually, you’ll be less likely to be injured.”

Paige was still trying to come up with a Lily-like way of telling her where she could stick her introductory session when Kelli glanced over at Jace. Who happened to be doing a set of lightning-fast pushups. With one arm. And then switching.

The light bulb went on. Paige was apparently not the only woman in Sinful who appreciated lean muscle and a hundred-watt stare. “I’ll be more careful,” she said, then decided to add, “Besides, what other excuse would I have to look at him?” and smiled. Lily-style. “He’s not really my type, but he sure is easy on the eyes, isn’t he?”

The other woman’s face relaxed a fraction, and Paige thought, yep.

“He is,” the trainer said. “Too rough for you? Probably so. He looks hard to handle. Or like a hard handler.”

“Exactly,” Paige said with a conspiratorial smile. “He’s my neighbor, actually. Lives down the road from me. He helped me with my goats this morning. You’re right, though. He’s a little much for me, honestly. Like you said.” One more step. “Like, you know.” She dropped her voice. “The kind of guy who’d be into bondage or something. Like he’d want to give you a good spanking first.”

The woman laughed. Superiority established, relaxation commencing. “Some people might consider that a feature, not a bug.”

Paige had stopped listening. She’d seen somebody else, the woman who’d given her a hard time the day before in the store. Did everybody hang out here? If she saw Hailey taking a spin class, she’d be sure of it. She said, “Hey. Do me a favor. That woman. For some reason, I can’t remember her name. Probably self-defense, because she hates me.”

“Jennifer? Well, yeah, obviously, because of the spa she wants to add once they do the new resort.” The trainer lowered her voice. “She’s overextended already, though, just with the gym, I heard. I don’t know how much longer she can hang on. She thought she was good because of the resort expanding, you know. And she has issues. When I started, I thought she was great, but that was before I realized how abusive the atmosphere could get. It’s not how it seems, not when you really know what’s going on.”

“Really? How long have you worked here?” Jennifer was the gym owner, then. The woman Lily had mentioned.

“Six months.”

“And it’s changed in that time? The gym? The… atmosphere?”

“I thought it would be perfect. Small town, friendly, laid-back. But it’s been getting weird. And the women here… If you didn’t grow up in Sinful, forget it. Which you didn’t either, and they know it. She’s not the only one that hates you. They all want the expansion to happen. So they can buy land and sell it for vacation houses, for one thing. If it gets to be the new hot place.”

“Who’s ‘all’?”

The trainer nodded toward the juice bar, where the knot of women was breaking up. “The rich ones, of course. Any of them. They want to cash in on somebody else’s sure thing. That Brett Hunter—he’s got a track record for making money, and everybody wants a piece. Half of them are in his pocket already, even if they just want to open an espresso bar or something. I’d watch out if I were you.”

“Oh.” Lily had said this, but Paige hadn’t quite believed it. “Well, thanks.”

“No problem.” The brunette glanced back toward Jace, her energy spiking.

“I’ll just keep on, then,” Paige said, Tactful. Lily-style. “Thank you for the information. And the advice.” She smiled sweetly, then started doing her medicine-ball routine again. She needed to watch. And digest. And possibly see who else came up to her and volunteered information.

Receptive. Open to confidences. Lily. She might as well work on her recovery while she was doing her detective work.

She would so have gotten a medal for this. And not the “I Am Actually a Cop” one she’d been given by the guys in Vice. Made with a jar lid and a red-white-and-blue ribbon, and written in Sharpie. Classy stuff. “We thought about going for subtle,” Ron Hammond had said when the squad had converged on her for their award ceremony. “You know. Subtle like you’re not. But we decided you wouldn’t get it, so no point.”

Who’s subtle now, boys? she wanted to say. Who’s wearing a flowery sports bra, huh? Who’s selling frilly underwear? And who’s solving the Mystery of the Vaguely Threatening Text? Me, that’s who.

And if she could solve the Mystery of the Freaky Fan at the same time for Jace? She’d deserve more than a medal then. That’d be worth a trophy.

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