Free Within This Frame by Lindy Zart

teasing light flared to life in his eyes as he met her gaze, and he smiled unabashedly, unable to keep up the act.
    “You ass,” she muttered, smacking his arm.
    “Seriously, you can’t wear this anymore.” Not seeing the tongue she stuck out at him, Lance tapped his mouth with a finger as he turned toward the dresser. “I think before we do anything else, we need to go shopping. What kind of workout clothes do you have? And underwear—what does your underwear look like?” His tone was innocent, but again, when he caught her eye, she saw the amusement he couldn’t contain.
    “Socks too,” he continued. “Shoes. All of those things matter. Do you have clothes specifically for working out?”
    “I wear tee shirts and shorts.”
    He was shaking his head before she stopped talking. “No. If you can’t afford workout clothes, those will do, but you can.”
    “How do you know what I can or can’t afford?” she asked suspiciously.
    “Do you experience chaffing?” His gaze was aimed at her crotch.
    Maggie nervously crossed her legs. Why, she didn’t know. He still had a perfect view of her clothed nether regions. “I’m not telling you.”
    “I’ll take that as a yes. So.” He clapped his hands once and focused on her crimson face. “Today we’ll walk to the sports store near Lane Gym. Not much in the way of hardcore exercising, but we need to start out slow. Less chance of injury that way. And please, for the love of all things holy, get rid of that bra before we do. I’ll wait downstairs.”
    “The sports store doesn’t even open for over three hours,” she called after him.
    He paused near the doorway. “You’re right. Good time to get a physical assessment while we wait. See you in the basement.” His voice was sinisterly as he said that.
    “How do you know there’s a basement, or where it is?” she demanded.
    “I am a man without limits—and I snooped around the house last night after you went to bed.”
    Lance closed the door after him, leaving a sputtering Maggie in his wake. She wasn’t surprised that he’d snooped through her house last night. She was sure he’d even used the gym located in the basement that morning. At least someone did, she grudgingly acknowledged.
    With a sigh, she rifled through the dresser drawers, deciding on what to keep, and what to toss. She had no suitable underwear for working out; most of them were thin and miniscule, and the majority of her bras weren’t supportive enough.
    It was a struggle to get out of the bra she’d squeezed into, arms bent at odd angles and grunts leaving her as she fought with the apparel. It got stuck somewhere between her armpits and the top of her breasts, and with a cry of fury, she pulled it over her head, causing her arms to ache in the process. Out of breath and sweating, she heaved the sports bra to the floor and put on a slightly better one that didn’t make her look like she had one boob instead of two.
    Clothed in her customary exercise shirt and shorts, shoes on feet and hair up in a ponytail, Maggie stopped in the upstairs bathroom to brush and floss her teeth and wash her face before meeting Lance in the basement.
    Maggie had the makings of a workout room in the semi-finished basement. So far the area had a treadmill, elliptical machine, and a punching bag. She’d had most of the equipment for over three years and had used a combination of it less than a dozen times. She stood in the middle of the cream-toned room and stared at her reflection in the mirrored wall. The mirrors were supposed to work as a motivator, but they worked as the opposite most days. A television and DVD player were set up in a corner of the room with a yoga mat, free weights, and resistance bands.
    It came as somewhat of a surprise that there weren’t cobwebs covering the majority of the contraptions.
    Lance had a set of pink ten-pound free weights in hand, back to the mirror as he lifted and lowered, muscles forming and releasing as he