“Darlin’, I didn’t know kisses on the cheek were accepted at the end of workouts,” Madden drawls, “I’ve been missing out.” I know he’s saying this to appear as a joke, but it comes out with more snark than anything he has ever said to me. I’m taken aback by his tone.
“You never asked, darlin’,” I instinctively bite back in my most saccharine sweet Southern tone and pop my hip for good measure. I’m well aware I’m flirting with the man who has repeated over and over this week that we’re just friends. I’m not so sure I was supposed to hear all the times he said it, but I don’t think he realized he was talking out loud either. I don’t care. I’m finally comfortable enough in my own skin to show off my finest sculpture. I work just as hard on my own body as I do training my clients. I’m rocking this hot ass sports bra, and my stomach is looking tone and defined.
I’m not even sure he heard me or witnessed me display sass; he’s too busy perusing my body. My male clients devour me with their eyes often; Nash does it all the time, so it’s not new to me. But seeing Madden do it … I don’t know. It feels different. Shit, is it hot in here? Focus, Jordan. Workout. He is your friend. Your client. I chuckle to bring him out of the zone.
“Come on,” I tease him with a wink and add a little more shake to my walk, “let's get it on.” The minute the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake. I look at him, and his eyes are as big as saucers. Fuck me, that is what I get for trying to be all flirty and shit.
“Shit,” I stammer, “let’s get on with it.” Shaking my head, I walk away to the sound of his laughter.
“I’m right behind you, Marvin Gaye.”
It’s a total dad joke, but I walked right into that one.
Focus on the job, tune it all out. That gets me through the next hour with Madden. I put him through one of the hardest workouts yet. He is ready to kick it up a notch; I can tell by how easy the other workouts are becoming for him. It’s my job to keep pushing him. So that is what I do.
“Damn Jo, ” he says through heavy, deep breaths, “you tryin’ to kill me?”
“Not today, ” I joke with him. Looking at his watch, his eyes go wide.
“Fuck, I’m going to be late.”
Don’t ask, don't ask, don’t ask. “Big plans tonight?” Sure, Jo, go ahead and ask, you nosey bitch.
Madden blushes and stutters out, “Ummm … I have a date.” He is so red-faced, he looks like a schoolboy. It’s cute, but not in a pervy way. The knot that now sits in my stomach is my fault. I asked. My ass apparently has nothing on the size of my mouth.
“To be honest, I’m not sure that I’m even cut out to date,” Madden continues the conversation, but I think he’s talking more out loud than to me, but I listen anyway. Wouldn’t want him to think I’m being rude. The man has likely formed enough negative thoughts about me as is. “The last date was a disaster, and even though this girl—her name is Jasmine—seems nice enough, I don’t know. Dating isn’t what it was when we were teens, ya know.”
Noooo. I really don’t know. I don’t date. I’m married to Dumb Belles and have little time for socializin
g, even though Laney is hell-bent on hooking me up with a man. I think that’s more of a need for sexual stimulation rather than having a companion, but she doesn’t realize a good vibrator is all I need. Thanks again, Amazon.
I realize Madden’s mouth is still moving, and I got so lost in thought I think I’ve missed much of what he’s said. I shake my head to clear it just in time to hear “… that problem, do you?”
Luckily the ringing of his cell phone sucks all the awkwardness from the conversation and my lack of attention. “Sorry, I gotta take this, Jo.” He nods and turns around.
“Hey, Mom,” he answers. He takes a completely different tone with his mom, and it’s sweet. I bet he is a momma’s boy. I go about cleaning the equipment, which oddly enough puts Madden right in my line of sight. He sighs, and I look up and notice that he suddenly looks resigned, frustrated even. He shakes his head and mumbles, “It’s okay. I get it. I will find a way to take care of it.” He disconnects the call and drops his shoulders.
And because I don’t know who I am today, and I’m not normally this nosey with clients, but I can’t stop myself, I ask, “What’s wrong?”
“Mom was going to pick up Belle for me this afternoon, but she has a flat. The tow truck is on the way to take her to the shop now, but…”
He looks so defeated in this moment. I can’t imagine how hard it is to be a single parent.
“I’m supposed to pick up Jasmine at 6:00.” Jasmine? Oooh, yeah. His date. I bet she really is a Disney Princess. Is he taking her for a ride on his magic carpet? He sighs loudly, once again pulling me from my rampant thoughts. Damn it, Jo, focus! Madden starts thumbing through his phone then curses. “Shit, it’s already 3:30, and I hate to ask Laney to keep Belle after preschool. She already deals with kids all day long.”
“I have to pick up Kenny this afternoon, so I can get Belle.” Apparently, the line between my brain and mouth no longer works.
Madden looks at me as if I have lost my mind. Hell, maybe I have. “What?” I ask him.
“You have a kid?” His voice slightly shrieks as if surprised.
“Nooooo…” I stress, shaking my head. “He’s my nephew. Erin’s kid.”
“Ahh.” He nods, gettin’ it. “You would do that?”
“Sure, I have to be there anyway. Plus, I want to be Belle when I grow up, so I would love to spend some time with her. I can pick her up then drop her off to your mom.” Then I go on to add, “I kinda owe you one for drowning you in puke a couple weeks ago.” Word vomit—I’m plagued with it around this man it seems. Ugh!
Madden sighs in relief then picks up his bag. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll call Laney and let her know you’ll be picking Belle up. I’ll text you Mom’s address.” He digs around in his bag then brandishes his wallet, reaching me a twenty. “She’ll probably be hungry, so feed her whatever you feel is acceptable.”