Working Out

Chapter Two

Maggie spent the next week doing her best to avoid Mac. For the past four and a half months, she’d been on a no-man diet. Though celibacy wasn’t fun, it also wasn’t as annoying as the many losers she seemed to attract. Except her boss had been keeping her awake at night. Fantasies about the man tempted her to cave in to her desires and try him on for size. Talk about a colossal mistake.

In an effort to stop thinking about him and return to her fun-loving self, she’d arranged a date with her best friend. Tonight, she finally had Shelby to herself again. Though Maggie loved that her friend was finally dating a decent guy, she missed their Friday night movies.

She smiled at Shelby over Shelby’s kitchen counter, bemused to see her friend so carefree and happy. “Shane is good for you.”

Shelby’s brown eyes glowed with humor. “I thought we were doing a girls’ night. No boys or boy-talk allowed.”

“Right.”

“Yet you bring up he-who-must-not-be-named.” Shelby’s grin turned sly. “Oh wait, that’s not Shane. That’s studly Mac Jameson, your secret crush.”

Maggie made a face.

“Oh yeah. I’ve seen the way you look at him. The same way he looks at you. You like him.”

“Girls’ night. Quit breaking the rules.” Maggie reached for her margarita and took a sip. “Oh man, I needed that.”

“You need more than a drink, I’m thinking. You poor born-again virgin. Go out and get laid, isn’t that what you told me before? You know, when I was all pathetic and sad?”

“Don’t pity me. We had a deal to be cat ladies together. The pain of your betrayal wounds. Truly.”

Shelby laughed. “Dream on. Before Shane, I was going to be happily alone forever. No cats, dogs, kids, men, nothing but my mother and Ron to nag me into an early grave.”

“At least you would have had Mimi and Ron. I just have Trevor, and I can’t keep track of him.” Maggie’s brother spent as much time abroad as he did stateside. Like she really believed his bull about working for a shipping company when the government signed his paychecks.

“And speaking of Trevor, is he coming home for Christmas? Because I thought you were spending the day with us.” Us meant Shelby, Shane, Shelby’s mother and Ron. Shelby’s mother put the E in eccentricity, but she had a heart made of gold. Mimi and Shelby’s surrogate father, Ron, made an unstoppable team. The odd pair had pseudo-adopted Maggie years ago, for which she’d always be grateful.

Maggie sighed. “The last time I spoke to big brother, he planned to come home by mid-March. Nope. You’re stuck with me for Christmas.” Maggie glanced past her and gaped in horror at the calendar on the wall. “Hell. That’s in just three more weeks.”

“Yeah. Better get moving, slacker.” Shelby smirked. “I’m already done my shopping.”

“That’s because you’re anal retentive. And your boyfriend is as big a planner as you are. You two are so annoying together, it’s sickening.”

Shelby sighed. “It is, isn’t it?”

Maggie guzzled her margarita. “We need little umbrellas to be more festive. And we’re done talking about men.”

“Fine by me. Oh, here are the mozzarella sticks.” Shelby turned off the oven and took the tray out. She stared from them to Maggie and frowned. “I’ll have to run an extra mile or two this weekend because of tonight. Sometimes I hate that you’re blond, gorgeous, and eat like a horse. You should be as big as a house but look like a perpetual size two.”

“I work out or I would be a house.” Maggie popped a nearby chip and sighed with pleasure. “These are so bad for me.” She turned to grab a mozzarella stick and bobbled the hot treat onto her plate.

“Chips and deep fried cheese. That rung on the food pyramid no one wants to talk about. Between this crap and the sugar content in our margaritas, we’re batting a thousand.” Shelby groaned. “But it all tastes so good. Now let’s go watch Avatar.”

“For the sixth time,” Maggie complained under her breath.

“I heard that. And it’s the fifth time.”

“I thought we were back on horror movies.”

“Nope. Sci-Fi. So shut up, sit back, and be enthralled by blue people with tails.”

Maggie tried, but halfway through the film she found her thoughts continually straying toward to Mac and staying there. She’d been so turned on been when he’d mauled Wilson last week. He’d been so forceful and sexy while protecting her. Of course she’d gotten a rush seeing him in action. Any woman would, and Maggie happened to like muscles on a man.

The practical side of Maggie reared its head, reminding her that she courted stupidity to work for a man like Mac when she didn’t actually need to. She had her fulltime job at the gallery. On top of that, her old gym missed her and continually asked when she might return. They had better hours and were closer to her home. So why didn’t she stop working her temporary job for Mac and focus more on her real career? How had she gotten in so deep with the aggravating man she wanted to punch as much as she wanted to kiss?

She glanced at Shelby.

Four months ago, she’d tried to help her idiotic best friend. Out to protect Shelby from making another mistake when it came to men, Maggie had taken a job at Mac’s gym. While trying to spy on Shane, she and Mac had conspired to get Shelby and Shane together.

Over the course of Maggie’s time spent plotting, she’d started to actually like the man that put the word testosterone to shame. Mac stood a few inches over six feet, making him a giant next to her. He swore like the Marine he’d once been, yet he’d also charmed the ugly out of the nastiest woman at the gym with little effort. He had his share of fan-girls in leotards and short shorts. Big-breasted, slutty Megan thought Mac could do no wrong. And according to gossip, Mac definitely knew what to do between the sheets.

Apparently he couldn’t hold down a relationship though, much to the chagrin of several female gym-goers who liked to stare at Mac and speculate. As much as she wanted to, Maggie couldn’t blame their interest. Mac fit every one of her ideal physical traits in a male. Tall, broad shouldered and thickly muscled, he had looks and charm—when he chose to use it. His square jaw framed an even grin that made her heart race whenever he flashed it. Bright blue eyes against tan skin contrasted with his thick black hair. He kept it short, and she had a constant urge to brush his bangs off his forehead, to touch him and see if—

“I love this part.” Shelby knocked her in the arm, and Maggie watched as the end fight broke out in earnest.

Oh, hell. I have to stop mooning over Mac Jameson. She got up to pour herself another drink as the credits rolled. Shelby joined her, and they argued the finer points of science fiction versus horror movies.

Before she knew it, she and Shelby had finished off the pitcher of margaritas and started talking about men. Again.

“And when I wanted to do something different, he met me halfway.” Shelby nodded happily and under her shirt, muscled out of her bra. “Sorry. But it’s been a long day, and I’ve earned it. I’m free-boobing.”

A good idea. Maggie wanted to take hers off as well, except Shane would at some point return. Despite her supposed appeal to the opposite sex, Maggie had a hard time bearing her assets to the world.

Shelby tossed her bra and sighed. “Much better. Oh man, Maggie, I am so gone for him. I have to remind myself to play hard to get, because I don’t want him to get bored. Sometimes I have a hard time believing I’m in a real relationship. We’re actually dating. I mean, I love him. Isn’t that weird?”

Maggie snorted. “And we’re back to talking about Shane. Wait a minute. You said you have to remind yourself to play hard to get? You? The man smiles at you and you drop your pants like Pavlov’s dog.”

“Huh? Dogs wear pants?”

“I meant…never mind.” She wasn’t exactly sure what she meant. The margaritas were finally kicking in. “So what do you really think about Mac?”

“Ha! I knew you were still thinking about him.” Shelby sounded a bit too rational, and Maggie realized she’d imbibed much more than her friend.

She retrieved a half full bottle of wine from the refrigerator and two cups then rejoined Shelby in the living room. She poured them both wine and handed a cup to Shelby. “Drink up, schoolgirl.”

Shelby accepted the glass. “Mac’s in major lust with you.”

Which made it so difficult to keep her distance. Maggie called him Jameson. She frowned and glared, keeping a tight watch on his many ex-girlfriends to remind herself she didn’t want to join their ranks.

“And you want him, bad.” Shelby refused to shut up. “But that might be because you’re so asexual now.”

Maggie groaned and drank. She had been doing her best not to talk about her lack of a sex life, but the booze and need to share broke her restraint. “I know. At first it was hard, but now it’s getting easier to not want sex.” At least, when I’m not around Mac. And that scares me. “I’m almost thirty. What’s going to happen when I’m in my forties and fifties? All my good years will be gone, and I’ll go through the change and never want sex again. I’ll be a dried up has-been.”

“Not to hear my mother tell it.”

“I love Mimi.”

“Yeah, well, she talks too much.” Shelby winced. “Trust me. She way over-shares. But here’s a good thing. She told me that since I’ve found a man she finally approves of, she’s decided to work on your sorry love life. She and Ron are going to find you the perfect man.”

A vision of Mac wearing a white towel and not much else danced across Maggie’s vision. “Great. I suppose this is payback for me helping you find your true love.”

“Yep.”

“You don’t have to look so gleeful about it.” Maggie frowned. “I mean, you got Shane out of the deal. You owe me.”

Shelby smirked. “Oh, I intend to pay you back. In spades.”

“Hell.”

Shelby chuckled. “I’ve been feeling up your obsession for weeks now.”

Maggie huffed. “He’s not my obsession. And might I remind you that you’re a professional. I thought legitimate massage therapists were more clinical about their patients.”

“Well, I’m not giving him happy endings. Those I save for my man.”

Maggie snorted with laughter. “You need help.”

“And I get it regularly.” Shelby wiggled her eyebrows. “Did I tell you about Shane helping me out at work? God, that man is sexy.”

Maggie stared, wide-eyed. “By helping out, you mean…”

“He had me naked and splayed out on a table. My own personal massage.”

“You, Miss Professional, had sex in your clinic? Oh man, I am so jealous. Tell me.”

As Shelby shared a few naughty details, like the good best friend she was, Maggie felt both stunned and envious of her friend. Shane had certainly brought out the adventurous girl in Shelby, and it was about time. Shelby had been so hurt by her ex that it had soured Maggie on relationships as well. Shelby’s pleasure showed Maggie that not all men were scum-sucking jerks.

Maggie longed to have someone to trust, to fill her emotional and physical needs and validate her sense as a woman. For so long she’d tried dating men who turned out to be all wrong, and those mistakes triggered a fear that she’d never find someone special. She had looks but no great wealth, and someday her looks would fade. Most men didn’t take her seriously because of her blond hair, that and being an artist. Even in this day and age, stereotypes remained. For all that men complimented her face and form, she had yet to find a significant other.

“…so then he flipped me over, and I’m all out of breath, and he—”

The front door opened, cutting Shelby off mid-sentence. Shane walked in and stopped short at seeing them both lolling on the floor with a bottle of wine between them. He stared hard at Shelby, who wore a pair of tights and a tank without her bra. Then he blinked at Maggie, who wore her favorite ripped jeans and a soft, holey tee-shirt.

“Please tell me I didn’t miss any girl-on-girl action.”

Shelby laughed so hard she knocked the empty bottle over.

Maggie got to her feet with the grace than a three-legged goat. She nearly tripped before Shane steadied her. “And this is why I kept my bra on.”

He stared, open-mouthed, but said nothing. The looks he kept giving Shelby spoke for him, however.

“Okay, you two.” Maggie sighed. “I don’t think I can drive home. So I’ll be in the guest room. Please, no loud noises while you’re getting it on. Have pity on me.” So saying, she teetered her way to the bathroom, took care of business, and found the bed in the guest room.

After three tries she shimmied out of her bra and jeans but kept her shirt on for modesty’s sake. Though to be fair, Shane wouldn’t care. He only had eyes for Shelby. Man, her friend was lucky.

Before she knew it, her eyes had closed and she snuggled under the covers. She smiled as a vision of Mac, wearing no more than a pair of his own ripped jean shorts, entertained her throughout the night.

And into the morning.

Maggie woke the next day with a pounding headache and a vague sense she needed to be somewhere. On a groan, she rolled onto her back and blinked as a stream of bright sunlight hit her eye. Thankfully, a large body blocked out most of the sun and gave her a moment to focus.

Mac Jameson stared down at her with an intense look on his face.

She blinked up at him. “Shouldn’t your shorts be ripped?” Still not sure if she was awake or asleep, Maggie grazed Mac’s thigh and felt cotton under her hands. “Sweatpants? What happened to the jean shorts?”

Mac’s lips curled into a grin. “Jean shorts? This sounds good.”

Maggie realized the dream had come and gone. This Mac was real.

Quickly sitting up, she made sure to keep the cover over her lower half.

His gaze lowered to her chest, and his smile widened. “I really missed a party, didn’t I? Saw a wine bottle and drink mix in the kitchen. The clean police are still sound asleep, and there’s a gorgeous blond in my room.”

“Um, your room?”

He licked his lips and returned his gaze to hers. When she saw the heat melting the blue ice of his eyes, she froze. “Yeah. When I visit, I get the guest room.”

“In Shane’s house maybe. But this is Shelby’s.” The pair had decided to keep separate residences until they made the big move to share a home. Maggie figured they’d eventually move into Shane’s house because he had more space.

“Her house, his house. What’s his is mine. Sort of.” Mac ran a callused finger over her cheek, and Maggie found it hard to breathe.

His gaze returned to her chest and lingered. “You are really turning me on.”

Stupidly, she stared at his crotch, not surprised to see him hard and growing behind the sweats. “Y-you…ah…”

“Yep. Hard as a rock, just like those pretty nipples.” Mac’s husky voice snapped her out of her daze.

She realized he hadn’t been leering the way he normally did. He could see her nipples through her tee-shirt because she’d taken off her bra last night.

He returned his gaze to her face and slowly ran his finger down her jaw to her neck and lower. He continued to trail his finger over her collar bone, to the upper swell of her breast, and down. He rested his finger over her nipple for a moment, and she swore butterflies swarmed in her belly and sent a notice to flood her sex. “I can’t wait to suck these.”

And she wanted him to suck, to tease, to lick.

So much for a life of celibacy.

Behind him, the sun turned brighter and illuminated the poster on the wall. Of Shelby’s guest room.

Maggie jerked back, sat up, and crossed her arms over her chest—what she should have done the second she spotted Mac standing over her. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

He sighed and sat next to her on the bed.

She squeaked, but before she could scoot away, he gripped her leg through the cover.

“Wait. I’m not going to attack you, okay? I need a minute to cool down.” His wry look down at his lap brought a rush of heat to her cheeks. “I came by to grab a few books I’d lent Shane. He told me to stop by this morning and grab them. I didn’t realize he was taking this whole relationship thing to heart though. Shelby has turned him into a new man.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s sleeping in. It’s ten on a Saturday morning, and Mr. Type A is still in bed.” Mac looked mystified. “She must have given it to him good last night.” The speculative gaze he settled on Maggie and the bra hanging over the bedpost spoke volumes.

“Cut it out.” She reached for the bra but couldn’t grab it without him letting go of her leg.

“Let me.” He reached and took the bra from the post, sliding his fingers over the silken cups. “So soft and pretty.”

She grabbed it from his hand and snuck it under the cover, feeling both embarrassed and turned on. Confusion battled with lust in her mind, and she didn’t know whether to attack him or pray that he leave. Then the time registered.

“Did you say ten o’clock?”

He nodded.

“Oh my God. The gallery!” Maggie shot out of the bed with her bra and grabbed her jeans as she left, ignoring Mac’s wolf whistle.

She raced into the bathroom and hurriedly donned her clothing. Running out into the living room, she said a quick goodbye to a grumpy Shelby and laughing Shane in the kitchen. Thankfully Mac remained out of sight.

Ten o’clock, and she had an hour to get dressed, cleaned up and to work in an hour. As she rushed, her body continued to tingle in funny places, refusing to let her forget Mac’s touch. Talk about a hell of a start to her weekend.