He stopped what he was doing to watch. Her stance was good, solid, and strong. Her jabs and hooks were precise, and he couldn’t help the pride that settled into his chest as he watched. She’d learned a lot in his class, and was happy to see that she was taking that information and not only using it, but applying it properly.
But she was lost in whatever world her mind had taken her to, and she never once glanced over at him. She punched and struck and jabbed until he could see sweat rolling down her forehead, her neck, her chest.
When she finally slowed, her arms dropped to her sides and she simply stood in front of the bag, watching it sway from the last strikes she’d given it, her back heaving with labored, heavy breaths. She reached up and yanked the headphones out of her ears, letting them hang around her neck.
Travis roused himself from simply staring at her, walking the thirty feet or so over toward her. She didn’t react when he stepped up beside her, her eyes still staring at the slowly swinging bag suspended on its thick chains. Emotion rolled off her in waves, and though he ached to reach out a hand to touch her, he refrained, letting her have the moment.
“You don’t have to do this alone. Whatever it is…Roxy,” he murmured low, his voice coming out huskier than he intended. Beseeching, almost. “Let me help you.”
She looked up at him then, her face flushed and glistening with sweat, lips parted slightly between shallow, quick breaths. Her words were quiet, resigned, when she finally whispered back, “I don’t need saving, Travis.”
She ducked her head, dropping her eyes from his, and he felt the loss like a physical blow. What kind of witchcraft did this woman possess over him?
Roxy had taken several steps away, toward the bench and her gym bag when he surged forward. “Come to dinner with me.”
Her mouth twitched up in one corner in a wry smile. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked, his eyes scanning her face again. Those freckles were killing him, and being this close to her, he could see there were hundreds of them smattered across her mostly bare shoulders, too.
“Because I have plans tonight.”
He swallowed hard as his chest seized painfully. A date? With another guy?Fuck that.
“Break them.”
She laughed then, her lips pulling into a wide smile, and she shook her head. “Oh no. I’m not facing Natalie’s wrath by bailing on her.”
That tightness in his chest eased a little. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you girls up to?”
“Line dancing. At Waylon’s.” Her head tipped to the side slightly, a teasing smile on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with far more green than gold tonight. “You line dance, big guy?”
“Maybe. You asking me out?” he asked, taking a step forward, until they stood nearly toe to toe, and she had to tilt her head back to continue looking up at him.
“Not a chance.”
Her eyes were dancing with mischief, and fuck if it didn’t excite the hell out of him. He couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at his own mouth, and dammit did he like the way his chest felt lighter when he was around her. A lightness that he hadn’t believed still lived inside him after all these years. He leaned down slightly, ducking his head closer to her own, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “Come on, Red. Ask me out.”
“No,” she whispered breathily and he groaned low, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as he straightened just enough to look down into her face. He didn’t miss the way her eyes tracked his mouth, her eyes pinging back and forth from his lips to his eyes.Fucking hell.
The nearly silent buzzing of the cellphone in her pocket roused them, and she backed up a step as she slid the phone out of her pocket. Swiping at it, she raised it to her ear. “Hey. Yeah, just finishing up. I’m gonna go home to shower and change, then I’ll head over there.” He waited while he could hear Blondie’s voice on the other end of the line, muffled. Her eyes never left his. “See you at nine.”
She hung up the call, sliding the phone back into her pocket as she backed away another couple steps. He didn’t say anything as she gathered her things, peeled the gloves off her hands, and changed shoes. She was just pulling the jacket up her arms when he stepped forward, grabbing hold of the two sides of it. His knuckles grazed the flat plane of her stomach as he lined up the two halves of the zipper, and she gasped. The sound cut through him, rocketing straight to his dick.
His own breath was unsteady as he pulled the zipper up, so slowly it was nearly torture, allowing his knuckles to drag along the bare skin of her midriff. Up and over the swell of her breasts, stopping in the middle of her sternum. Travis could feel the hammering of her heart beneath the backs of his knuckles where they remained pressed against her chest for several seconds toolong. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, her breaths coming out in short, quick pants. Fuck he wanted to cover her mouth with his, to taste those breaths, to know just how much his simple touches had affected her. He could see it in her eyes, pupils blown wide.
He dragged his knuckles across the still exposed skin of her chest, tracking along another smattering of freckles that dotted her skin, before letting those knuckles trail up the side of her neck.
Fuck, he needed to stop before he did something else, something she may not be interested in, or ready for. Travis curled one stray curl around his index finger, tugging on it gently as he grinned down at her.
“Maybe I’ll see you later, Red.”
And then he turned and walked away, praying to God no one noticed the way his dick was tenting his gym shorts. Again.
This damn woman was going to be the death of him.
Seventeen
You’re lucky he kept his hands to himself.
