Challenging the Center (Santa Fe Bobcats #6)(14)

“You are a very odd creature,” Michael decided, shutting his coffee machine’s lid and punching the button to brew. “Most people wake up this way. Caffeine in a cup.”

Not at all offended, Kat waved that away. “I figure you know where to go.”

“There’s a workout room on the second floor. Which you would have known if you would have just called the front desk,” he finished on a growl.

“Let me guess, a few treadmills, a couple of hand weights, a half-deflated workout ball.”

It was better than that, given the clientele the apartment building catered to, but Michael had to concede if he wanted to work out and he had the time, he preferred the Bobcats’ facility. The place downstairs was good for cardio, but he liked the camaraderie of the team weight room. Plus more heavy equipment than an apartment complex could provide.

He reached for a mug and then dipped into the fridge for some skim milk. He’d weaned himself off the heavy cream he favored, but he still had to lighten the brew to make it drinkable.

Unafraid of his growling and posturing, Kat propped a hip against the kitchen counter. “Not gonna offer me a cup?”

He groaned, scrubbed a hand over his face until it hurt, then up through his hair until he knew it was standing on end. “Do you want some coffee?” he asked through his teeth, already reaching for another mug.

“Nah, I don’t touch the stuff. More of a water gal. Better for you.”

Her chipper, the-sun-is-shining cheerfulness made him want to rip all the kitchen cabinet doors down from their hinges and build a shelter to hide in like a troll, hissing at the light and positivity.

He didn’t trust morning people. They were an odd breed.

“So, about this workout,” she went on as he picked up the finished mug of coffee and took the first bracing sip. “You have workout facilities, right? Obviously. They’ve got to be pretty state of the art.”

“They don’t have us working out with rusted playground equipment.” Maybe after another few sips, her electric-blue sports bra wouldn’t distract him so much. Or the smooth, taut skin of her stomach below that bra…

“I figure there might be room for one more person in the training room.” She batted her eyelashes in a way that he knew was comical and not realistic. She was going for humor, not real flirtation. “Especially if that person knows what they’re doing and won’t get in the way.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Michael swung his non-coffee hand through the air. He was willing to watch out for her, be a sounding board, a mentor, a… whatever. But he wasn’t dragging her to his place of employment, his sanctuary, his safe haven.

“Oh.” Looking a little crestfallen, Kat shrank back a bit. A defensive posture that didn’t jive with her personality one bit.

“There’s a workout room here,” he reminded her again.

She ignored that. “I won’t get in the way,” she tried again, but the fight was gone from her voice. “I just need the outlet.”

“And I need to keep work separate from my life at home.” Don’t get sucked into the puppy eyes, Lambert.

“Yeah, okay. I get it.” With a nod, Kat headed for his door.

That was almost too easy. Michael waited for another argument, a rebuttal, a sly reminder she could just sneak away and do whatever she wanted, but she merely opened his door and closed it behind her without a word.

He listened, but when he heard her own door open and close, he popped his head out into the hallway to make sure she hadn’t tricked him. When three minutes passed and she hadn’t left, he groaned.

“Damn it.”



“Tell me about your facility.” Kat couldn’t keep the bounce out of her step as she walked beside Michael into the practice building. The well-lit interior of the building had surprised her, as most of the places she trained at were darker, saving on ambiance to add maximum value.

Then again, the Bobcats organization could afford to throw around a few pennies.

He tossed her a quick glance that asked, Why did I ever agree to this? “It’s a practice facility. I don’t know… weight room, workout areas, practice field, places for massage and physical therapy and medical… just, you know. The usual.”

He acted like she should know this. He must be laboring under the same misconceptions the rest of the world was when it came to professional athletes. Most of them struggled to make a living and weren’t privy to high-priced facilities and state-of-the-art techie stuff. Those who had access were household names. Of which she most certainly was not.

Not yet anyway.

Or rather, not for the right reasons.

She heard the clang of weights before they turned a corner and saw the door to the weight room. Something in her vibrated, and she clenched her fists in anticipation.

A hard workout. A long, sweaty, intense, body-crushing round with weights and machines and her playlist in her ears. Something to take the edge off.

Something to help her forget what her manny had looked like, all rough and scruffy, half-dressed and irresistibly grumpy, only an hour before.

Her body tightened in anticipation again, but it wasn’t because she was thinking about the weights.

“Wait here,” Michael said as they approached the door. “I still have to clear it with the trainer in the room before it’s okay.” Without waiting for her agreement, he walked in.