Without meaning to, she felt her mood lift, and she chuckled. Had Gavin Donnigan actually flexed his ass at her?
Yes, he had.
For months, she’d been coming to the gym. For months, he’d said silly things to her to get her to smile and go out with him. No way, no how. He wassonot her type. Ripped with muscle. Sexy. Doable, sure. He’d already proven that by hooking up with a half dozen—that she knew about—women at the gym. Dark hair,smoky-gray eyes, a firm yet sensual mouth. And yeah, okay, he had an amazing ass, overly amazing thighs, topped off with an amazing torso.
So annoying that he was charming too. Few people had been able to make her even want to smile since the accident. But Gavin had been obnoxious, obvious, and somehow charming all at the same time. He made her smile despite herself. Just what the doctor ordered.
Ordoctors, she thought as she turned down her street in Fremont. The people she worked with had been supportive. Sensitive yet not intrusive, they’d tried to give her space while still treating her with a gentleness that showed a familiarity with life-and-death situations.
Hell, even one of the more aggressive clinic managers had been a treasure, keeping his dictatorial comments to a minimum while still grilling her about feature benefits of the software. No give in that man, which she appreciated.
She parked in her driveway and sat for a moment. The small bungalow she called home felt empty now that it was just her residing there. Aunt Piper had bought the place years ago, a sound investment that had more than doubled in value, thanks to her aunt’s keen sense of renovation. All in all, Zoe didn’t pay much to live in a great area, close to restaurants and shopping. But she’d been sharing the space with Aubrey when her vagabond sister had been home. Aubrey’s last creative foray outside the States had gone well, and she’d taken some amazing photographs. Her trip had, for the most part, been uneventful. Until a vacation in the freezing mountain passes back at home, in Washington, had given her a few bumps…
God, a few.
Zoe stared at the house, now all hers.
For a second, she thought about calling her friend Cleo, needing a shoulder to cry on. But she’d put the nonstop tears to rest two months ago, determined to grow. Aubrey was dead. There was no taking that back. No way to replay the event to a different outcome. Time to look to the future and learn to live without her twin—the other half of herself.
She sighed, annoyed at sinking back into that familiar bog of despair. She’d always been levelheaded, leaving the raging artistic temperament to her twin. But lately, no matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from seeing her sister in everything around her. From pink shoelaces to an oddly turned phrase to a vibrant orange poppy. Everything spoke to her of Aubrey.
“Get a grip, Zoe. Buck up, lame-o. And quit being so dramatic.”
Words to live by.
After locking the car behind her, she let herself into the lovely space she called home and dropped her workout bag by the entrance. She secured the door before settling down for a leftover salad, water, and mindless television. But this time, instead of dwelling on her sister, she saw Gavin Donnigan in her mind’s eye.
He really flexed his ass at me.Why that continued to amuse her she couldn’t say, but she had to hand it to the guy. He sure knew how to command attention.
Between him, his hunky blond brother, and Mac, the gym’s drool-worthy owner, Jameson’s Gym had turned intothehot spot for eye candy in Green Lake. Hell, make that the whole of Seattle. All the ladies at the gym, her office, the grocery store talked about it. She wasn’t immune either. Zoe used the gym to work out, but seeing so much muscle didn’t hurt.
She’d been on board for the first self-defense class the gym had offered, free of charge, back in late February. It had been well done, and she’d been impressed that Gavin and Landon, two ex-Marines, had never talked down to the women taking the class. They had treated everyone with respect and seemed serious about helping everyone learn to protect themselves.
The demand had been fierce for a follow-up session. Much as she hated to admit it, Mr. Guns of Steel had a gift for teaching the unteachable. He’d actually gotten through to the hardheads in the room, herself included.
Despite not wanting to give him the wrong idea—because she had no room in her life for charming men with nice glutes and sexy smiles—she’d signed up for the second round of classes.
Part of her knew she should steer clear of the roaming Romeo. But another part liked the way he made her feel—wanted, attractive, womanly.
She finished her salad and water while she watched reruns of an old show she’d seen a dozen times before. Cracking her jaw on a yawn, she forced herself to turn off the boob tube and went to bed grungy from her sweaty workout. In the morning she’d start on her weekly chores and launder the sheets.
With any luck, she wouldn’t dream of Gavin tonight, as she’d been doing following her daily workouts. Lately, he figured prominently in her fantasies of shirtless men pumping iron. Go figure.
She woke the next morning refreshed, unable to remember what she’d dreamed about, and okay with that. After cleaning the house, doing the laundry, and taking care of the bills, Zoe stepped outside to do some weeding, appreciating the warming late-April temperatures.
The phone rang.
She picked it up while she did a survey of the back garden. “Hello?”
“Zoe, it’s Piper. How are you?”
Zoe perked up. “Great, Aunt Piper. Just getting ready to clear out the flower beds.”
“Nice. Want some company?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll weed for tea and sweets. Cookies, cinnamon rolls, something good. Not that crappy vegan stuff you buy. I want real sugar and butter.”
