Free Caught in the Undertow (Hawaiian Crush #6) by E. L. Todd

girl.
    Coen turned to his coworker. “I think you gave me the wrong paperwork, man.”
    Tyrese took it then looked it over. “No, this is right.”
    “I don’t take chick clients,” he snapped.
    Tyrese looked at him. “Dude, we’re so booked right now. And the rest of the guys can’t accommodate the schedules. I’ll try to comply with your request as much as possible, but it’s not always going to happen. Either be a team player or find another job.” He walked into the back office and disappeared.
    Coen sighed in annoyance. Now that he was married, he couldn’t afford not to work. He’d been saving his money to take Sydney on a real honeymoon and he needed the cash. He sighed then went back into the changing room. He changed into long sweat pants instead of the shorts he usually wore, and his cut off shirt was exchanged for a normal t-shirt. Sydney always wore a shirt and shorts when she went swimming with friends without him, when guys were around, so he had to do the same for her.
    He walked into the training room and set up for the session. When his client walked inside, he sighed in annoyance. She was wearing a sports bra and black leggings. Her hair was down, curly at the ends, and her face was pounded with makeup. Coen was immediately irritated. She should be here to workout, not show off.
    “I’m Coen,” he said simply.
    “Casey,” she said. She extended her hand to take his.
    Hesitantly, Coen shook it.
    She had dark brown hair and blue eyes. She had a slim build, with long legs and a lean torso. He couldn’t deny that she was attractive, even though she wasn’t his type at all.
    “Let’s get started,” he said. “Are you a beginner?”
    She shrugged. “I guess.”
    “And what do you need this training for?” He looked at the clipboard.
    “Personal,” she said vaguely.
    Coen wasn’t convinced. “Is someone bothering you, Casey?”
    “No,” she said quickly, averting her gaze.
    Coen caught the lie. “As your trainer, you can confide personal information to me. It will remain confidential. And the more I know about your needs, the better I can help you.”
    She placed her hands on her hips but remained mute.
    Coen thought of Sydney. She was the exact same way when they first met, untrusting, quiet. “Let’s begin,” he said.
    He showed her the basic moves of self-defense, how to block attacks and unleash her own. She seemed to have a good understanding of the practice, but she needed to work on her timing and her confidence.
    When he demonstrated moves to her, he never touched her. He wanted to avoid it as much as possible. His relationship with Sydney was solid, and there was no room for any doubt of his commitment to her, but he still wanted to cover his ass.
    Casey sweated through the whole training session, and her layers of makeup started to peel away. Coen noticed the slight discoloration around her lips and near her eyes, like they were old bruises. Th e makeup hid them well, but the abrasions were evident when it disappeared.
    When the session was over, Coen looked at her. “If someone is hurting you, you should report it to the police.”
    “No one is bothering me,” she said quickly.
    Coen sighed in annoyance. He should just let it go. It wasn’t his problem. But his conscious kept pulling him back. It was his duty and obligation to help those who couldn’t help themselves. After his sister passed away, he vowed to stop it from ever happening again. “Please talk to me,” he said with a sigh.
    She flinched. “There’s nothing to tell.”
    “I can see the bruises on your face. I’m not stupid.”
    Her eyes widened in fear.
    “I won’t tell anyone,” he said quickly. “But please let me help. I’ve helped many women escape their abusers. I can help you too.”
    She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m fine.”
    Coen sighed in annoyance. He turned to the cabinet and pulled out a business card then scribbled his number on the back. He handed it to