Free Loving Mr. July by Margaret Antone

that
you weren’t behind it.”
    “So it was a case of revenge, so to
speak.”
    Kurt gave her a hang dog look. “I did need a
workout partner. I can find tons of excuses if left to my own
devices.”
    He could tell Cynthia was trying hard not to
laugh, trying instead to look mad, but she lost the struggle. He
felt like he’d won the lotto. “Forgive me?”
    Cynthia considered him for a long moment. “A
week ago, I would have said no. I mean my body hasn’t hurt so much
in years.”
    “But?” He could tell from the slight smile on
her face that she wasn’t really mad.
    “But I’ve lost weight for the first time in
years,” Cynthia said, then inclined her head toward the ice cream
carton. “Although after tonight, I’ve probably set myself
back.”
    “There’s always tomorrow,” Kurt said
mildly.
    Cynthia gave a defeated little shrug. “But
what’s more is I’m starting to have more energy at work. So I
realize that I should make it a priority to workout more, even if I
hate it.”
    “You should,” Kurt agreed, then put up a hand
when she started to look affronted. “Don’t drag me into the weight
thing. That’s not what I’m talking about. You should because it’s
healthier. You’ve come a long way in two weeks.”
    Cynthia gave him a questioning look.
    “You think I didn’t notice you skipping every
other number when you were counting sets?”
    “Busted.” Cynthia giggled.
    “And now you’re counting like a regular
person.”
    Cynthia smiled. She reached for another
tissue and wiped her eyes again before looking him straight in the
eye. “Thank you, Kurt.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “For?”
    “For listening. For not judging. For being a
friend.” She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve
totally humiliated myself in front of one of San Diego’s most
eligible bachelors, and yet you’ve managed to make me laugh.”
    Kurt looked into her blue eyes and felt his
world shift a bit. Every part of him wanted to kiss her, make love
to her, make the hurt go away. But he knew instinctively that now
was not the time.
    He drew in a deep breath, got up, and gave
her a brief hug and managed to get a couple of words out. “You
bet.”
    He turned away before she could see his
body’s reaction. Now he really needed that beer.
     

Chapter 8
     
     
    A few days later, Cynthia sat in Sharon and
Blake’s sunny kitchen, hoping her best friend could help her make
sense of her muddled feelings.
    “So he just says ‘you bet,’ pats my hand, and
walks off to have a beer.” Cynthia finished telling her story, and
added some more sugar to her coffee. “I mean, I was having a moment
there. I had just spilled my guts about my past to a man for the
first time, and he acted like we’d just concluded an impersonal
business deal.”
    Sharon, who had been sipping her own coffee,
making sympathetic noises and nodding during the entire tale, now
put her coffee cup down, waited a beat. “Have you thought about how
he might have felt during this whole thing?”
    Cynthia shook her head, feeling sheepish. “I
was so embarrassed that he caught me stuffing my face, for one, and
then blubbering all over his dog, that I couldn’t even look at him
when I told him my story. I’m not even sure why I did.”
    That wasn’t strictly true, Cynthia admitted
to herself. She thought about how comforting it had felt to be held
in his arms that night, the first time in many years that a man had
held her in compassion, and not with sexual intent. She had felt
safe, which was odd, seeing as he had only been wearing the boxers
he apparently slept in. Of course, he hadn’t appeared to ever have
any interest in her as a woman. “Maybe he was disgusted? Felt
pity?” Cynthia voiced the thoughts roiling through her mind.
    “It’s hard for anyone not to pity the loss of
your childhood,” Sharon chided her gently. “But disgusted? That
doesn’t sound like Kurt. I’ve come to know him beyond his