“I’m not much of a cook,” I admit. “But I promise to buy you breakfast if you get up and come with me.”
“What time is it?”
“It’s early.”
She yawns. “Like five o’clock early or like ten o’clock early?”
“Ten isn’t early, babe.”
“It is to me,” she yawns again.
“It’s six.”
“Where do you have to be at six in the morning on a weekend?”
“I don’t have to be anywhere. I have somewhere I want to be and I want you to be there with me.”
She looks up at me with one eye, the other buried in the sheets. “What if I remind you I’m naked? Would that keep you in bed?”
“Nope,” I say, springing off the mattress. My feet hit the soft carpeting and I swear I sink a couple of inches. “Get your fine ass up, Miss Landry. The world awaits.”
“The world can wait.”
“Stay right here.” I leave Cam just inside the door and jog across the mats. Flipping on the switch, I wait for the hum of the halogen lights and watch them flicker to life high above our heads. “Welcome to Percy’s.”
“I can’t believe you brought me here,” she squeals. Almost bouncing on her toes, she claps her hands in front of her as I return. “So this is where you train?”
“This is it. Not super fancy or any of that, but it works.”
“It’s amazing.” She looks around the room, to the section with heavy bags and then on to the speed bags. I think her eyes will pop out of her head when she sees the ring in the back. “There. You fight in there.”
“Yup. That’s where I go at it with Bond.”
She rests her gaze back on me like a little kid at Christmas. “Teach me something, Dom.”
“What?” I laugh.
“Come on! Teach me something. Please?”
“What do you want to learn?”
“Hell if I know,” she giggles. “Teach me how to throw a punch. Or a kick. Or toss someone over my back like they do in the movies.” She makes her hands into fists and rolls them around like the fighters did in old blockbusters.
“Okay, killer. Let’s slow down,” I laugh, leading her through the gym. “One thing at a time.”
“I’m an all-or-nothin’ kind of girl.”
“Is that so?”
“It is today.”
I set my bag on the floor and look for a pair of gloves. I know Percy has extra ones in the back, but I don’t want to go get them. Finding them in the bottom, I stand up to see her circling a heavy bag the wrong way. She throws a couple of punches, terribly, then a kick that almost lands her on her ass.
“We’ve found the thing you aren’t good at,” I crack, tossing her the gloves. “Put these on before you wreck your manicure.”
“I’m so proud of you,” she nods, obviously humoring me. “You knew the word ‘manicure.’ I feel strangely accomplished.”
“You would.”