She smiles. “Don’t put them all back. I actually need a couple of these.”
I hand the canned tomatoes to her. “What are you making?”
“Lasagna. It’s from a Marcella Hazan recipe that one of my clients recommended. Sort of old school, I think.” She puts the cans in her cart.
My stomach makes a loud growl and I can’t help laughing. “That sounds really good. You can hear I’m hungry.”
She inclines her head. “Your stomach has good taste. I guess you only eat healthy stuff, with the gym and all?”
“Hell, no. I eat a lot of protein and vegetables, but I like cooking all sorts of stuff. My Mom taught my brothers and I to appreciate good food.” I look down at the potato chips in my hand.
“I appreciate it too. I guess you can see that.” She grins and her cheeks flush. “That’s why I want to get in shape. But I don’t think I could ever exist on diet soda and crispbreads.”
A stray can from the display rolls slowly back down the aisle and I bend down to pick it up.
Alyssa reaches for it. “I’ll take that one too. Just in case.” She starts rolling the cart away, her cheeks still faintly pink. As she passes me, there’s a delicate scent of lilies and shampoo. I hand her the can.
“Thanks. Nice to run into you. I mean…for you to run into me. You know what I mean. See you later.” She speeds up slightly and turns the corner. Her curvy hips sway slightly as she moves and I’m mesmerized.
“See you later,” I say, but she’s already gone.
I stare at the potato chips and look down at the bag I have in my hand. Roasted garlic and blue cheese. I don’t think my clients will appreciate that. Settling on plain sea salt flavor, I walk to the back of the store to look at the sandwiches. Down at the checkout, the clerk is ringing up Alyssa’s purchases. I don’t want to keep staring at her, so I turn my back and make a big deal of selecting a sandwich.
She’s gone when I reach the checkout. After I’ve paid, I walk slowly back to the gym. For some reason I keep replaying our conversation. I should have apologized for knocking into her cart. She probably thinks I really am Mr Grumpy, just like Juni does. Or Mr Rude. Or maybe Mr Weird and Clumsy who gawps at her while pretending to buy sandwiches.
When I’m inside, I find Juni in the back room. “Have you changed the schedule for that client yet?”
She looks up from the table where she’s unpacking towels. “No, I was about to do it once I’ve done this.”
“Don’t worry about it. Keep it how it is. I have enough time.” I walk back into the kitchen to grab a plate.
“You sure, Cole? It’s no trouble for me to change it?” Juni’s stacked the towels so high they’re in danger of toppling over.
“Nah, it’s good. Let me help you put those away.” I grab a pile and walk across to the storage cupboard.
I probably shouldn’t be around Alyssa, considering how I react to her, but the thought of anyone else, even my brother, looking after her makes my jaw clench.
She’s training withme.
ChapterThree
ALYSSA
My T-shirt is sticking to my sweaty back, I’m sure my face is beetroot red and my arms are shaking as I push the barbell above my head.
“Great job, Alyssa. Especially for your first session.” Cole says. “Bring it down smoothly, pause when you reach your waist and then, following the steps we ran through the first time, push it back up again.”
That’s easy for him to say. His muscles are so big that they even have muscles, as Dale likes to say. He could probably lift up this stupid weight with one hand. I thought my job had me in reasonably good shape, since I’m on my feet all day, but pushing weights above my head isn’t really in my job description.
I grit my teeth and try to remember the steps he just taught me. It’s hard when he’s standing right there at my side, ready to spot the weight if necessary. He has a sort of cedar scent, woodsy and fresh, which is the opposite of what you’d expect a sweaty gym trainer to smell like. I have the sudden urge to throw the weight on the floor and go and hide in the locker room, just in case I screw this up.
Instead I mentally count through the steps and manage to get the barbell over my head again, my arms shaking more violently this time.
“Yes! Perfect. Lower down, slowly.” Cole’s standing in front of me and takes the weight as I bring it down to my waist. I was right about how strong he is, he looks like he could juggle with it. He’s wearing a black T-shirt and shorts, and it takes everything I’ve got not to gape at his incredible body. I’ve never really appreciated a man’s thighs before, but Cole’s strong legs are gorgeous.
I look up at him. “You make it look easy.”
He smiles. “I’ve had plenty of practice. I was the wimpy kid at school until my big brother made me go to the gym. So it’s his fault.” He nods his head at his brother Aron, who’s helping an older man navigate the cross trainer.
