“Dr. Peterson.”
Oh fuck. Yeah he’d probably think it was an emergency call. “Um, Jordan, it’s Luke.”
No answer.
“Lucas Conover? Jordan, are you there? Did I wake you?”
A deep sigh filled the phone receiver. “Yeah, give me a moment.”
Luke heard sheets rustling and movement. While he waited, he pulled off his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, and toed off his shoes. Settling back again on the pillows of the sofa, he closed his eyes.
“Why are you calling me? Don’t you know it’s after midnight, for Christ’s sake?” As usual, Jordan’s irritated voice only made Luke smile. He did love to push the guy’s buttons.
“Maybe if you’d talk to me during the day or at the meetings these past few weeks, I wouldn’t have to track you down and wake you from your beauty sleep.” Luke chuckled at the outraged breath that hissed in his ear.
“I wasn’t aware we had anything else to say to each other.” That frosty, pissed-off tone was pure Jordan. Prep-school asshole. “You apologized, I accepted, and that’s it.”
“Look. I know I fucked up, but I did mean what I said. I think you’d feel much better if you built up some strength, and I can help. Besides,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood, “Sasha was pretty sweet on me, and I wouldn’t want the dog to mope around, nursing a broken heart.”
“You’re an asshole, you know?” Jordan’s growl only made him laugh.
“Yeah, but animals and little old ladies love me.”
“Why are you bothering me, Lucas?” The resigned tone reentered Jordan’s voice. “I’m fine as I am.”
Back to that challenge. “Bullshit. Come on, Jordan. What’s the matter, afraid you’ll fail? Won’t be able to keep up with me?” For some indefinable reason, a wicked smile curved his lips. “I’ll go easy on you, considering you’re so much weaker than I am.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then meet me tomorrow at Power Fitness on Eighth and Seventeenth. We’ll start on a regimen to get you back into shape.” Luke dropped the joking tone and turned serious. “Eleven o’clock?” He held his breath waiting for an answer.
“Pushy bastard.” Jordan’s annoyance came through loud and clear. “You aren’t going to leave me alone until I show you you’re wrong. I’ll meet you then and prove I’m fine and don’t need your help.”
The phone clicked off. Luke grinned to himself as he got ready for bed.
Challenge accepted.
* * * *
At five minutes to eleven the next morning, Luke strolled into Power Fitness—the gym he’d belonged to for the past several years. He gave a perfunctory greeting to the young woman who checked him in at the front desk; then he scanned the waiting area. No sign of Jordan yet.
Luke decided to change in the locker room first. He liked to take a shower and have a change of clothes so he didn’t have to walk home all sweaty from his workout. After pulling on the thin T-shirt and light sweatpants he normally wore, he slung a towel around his neck and returned to the reception desk. Jordan sat on the bench, looking out of sorts and out of place. As he did each time he saw the man, Luke sensed something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.
“Good morning.” There it was. That blue-eyed stare that had caught his attention the first time they’d met. As hard as he tried, Luke was unable to dismiss this man from his mind. Admittedly he hadn’t tried too hard.
“What’s good about it? You woke me out of a sound sleep and made me come here, when I could’ve been home—”
“Doing nothing as usual?” Luke cut off Jordan’s grumbling. “Stop bitching and start moving.” He walked past Jordan and waved him to follow. “We’ll hit the weights first, and you can show me what you’ve got.”
They walked in silence until they reached the weight room. For a Saturday morning, it was relatively empty. A few other guys were there, headphones in place, their concentration solely on the machine and their workout. Luke scanned the room and indicated to Jordan they should approach the bench press area.
“Come this way. What was your usual workout like?” The bar was set with one-hundred-pounds total weight.
For the first time, Jordan seemed nervous. His eyes darted off to the side, and he shifted on his feet. “I, ah, I wasn’t ever a lifter. I’m not the muscle-bound type. I ran mostly and did some yoga.” At Luke’s smile his voice became defensive. “I did it for stress relief, after long days of surgery.”
“Hey, I’m not one to judge.” But his smirk grew broader. “Of course, if you don’t think you can do it—”
“Screw you. I can do anything I want to.” Jordan threw down his towel and lay back on the bench. “Spot me.”
