Free Then He Kissed Me: A Cottonbloom Novel by Laura Trentham Page A

over her shoulder as if she were thinking about making another run for it. Her braid swung to hang to the side of a breast. Her pants were tight spandex to right below her knees, her tank equally as snug, highlighting the lean curves of her body. Everything about her was beautifully unharmed.
    His shoulders relaxed, and he found a smile. “Thought I’d take you up on your offer last night. I need to expend some energy.”
    She set the spray bottle and rag down on the front desk. “If the weather’s nice, Saturdays can be slow, but if you’re looking to spar, Reed can accommodate you.”
    This time a smile did cross Reed’s face. Nash was in good shape, and he was an experienced boxer, but the big, muscled man behind the desk would pulverize him. Nash fiddled with the strap of his gym bag over his shoulder. “Another time maybe.”
    She chucked her head toward the ring in the back and walked away, obviously expecting him to follow. “I don’t blame you. Reed’s a former professional fighter. If you want to spar me, I’d be game.”
    He couldn’t think of anything worse than hitting Tally. “I’m more of a boxer than a martial arts guy. I’d prefer to punch a bag and jump rope if it’s all the same with you.”
    The hint of a smile crossed her face. “Worried you might get beat up by a girl?”
    “That’s a given.”
    “Fine.” She took a step away, but he caught her arm.
    “Any trouble this morning?”
    “Only if you count my brothers as trouble.” She patted his hand, and he let her go. “I’m fine. Heath was probably drunk last night. It was a one-time thing.”
    He wanted to believe her, but the sideways dart of her gaze transmitted her worry and her reticence to volunteer anything else. He’d hoped after last night, she would trust him with at least this problem.
    “Is Cade back for good?”
    She led the way to the nearest body bag. “Looks that way. He and Monroe are practically living together, and he’s moving the R&D part of his business down from Seattle. He’s even talked Sawyer into joining his venture—renamed Fournette Brothers Designs. They’ve both been working long hours getting things set up.”
    “Something with engines, right?” He tucked his glasses away, pulled out a pair of protective gloves, and slipped them on.
    “He designs new engine technology, patents it, and then licenses the patents to the highest bidder. He doesn’t throw his money around, but he’s done well.”
    “Does he know what’s going on with Heath?”
    “No. Sawyer doesn’t know either, and neither one of them are going to find out.” Her mouth tightened and her tone could freeze water. “I can handle Heath on my own. Don’t turn into an old gossip like your aunt now that you’re back in Cottonbloom.”
    Her braid made a dark arc in the air on her turn. He cursed under his breath as she stalked away. The way she’d answered confirmed his fears. The woman was too independent and proud for her own good. He hit the bag until his arms burned, expending a portion of his aggression. Next was the rope, and he stripped his T-shirt off.
    Jumping rope was a challenge with his asthma, but he’d learned how to regulate his breathing until he found a rhythm that was almost meditative. He wasn’t sure how long he jumped, but by the time he stopped, sweat was trailing down his torso.
    His chest heaved but he forced his lungs to fill and empty completely as slowly as he could. In the mirror, he could see her somewhere behind him wiping over the same weight bench a dozen times. Was she looking in his direction? Without his glasses, he couldn’t be sure.
    Perhaps her swift exit that morning hadn’t been entirely in horror. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only one who’d been fighting an inconvenient attraction. He grabbed a towel and approached her, rubbing it over his chest.
    The closer he got, the more in focus she became. Her gaze was definitely on his body, not his face. He could translate the ornate