Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Unfortunately, I suspected I was about to wipe that grin away. “You don’t have to pay, but you do have to start exercising.”
She stared at me and then at her cast. “How?”
“We’ll start working on your good arm and your leg. Once you get going with the crutches, you’ll be relying on them more than ever.”
“We?”
“Well, you and me.”
“I thought I was going to go to physical therapy.”
“You will, starting next week. But I have some experience with recovering from injuries, or at least sports injuries, and I want to help.”
Alyssa was silent for a moment, and I suspected that a battle was raging inside her head. No one that injured was thrilled about the idea of exercising, but it would speed up her recovery in the long run. Finally, she nodded. “Are you an athlete?”
I nodded, feeling another spike in my heart rate as her eyes swept up and down my body. “I ran track in high school. Played baseball, too. Now, I teach some classes over at the fitness center. That’s where I was this morning.”
“What do you teach?”
“Kickboxing. Tai Chi. Aikido. Yoga sometimes.”
“You’re interested in a lot of things,” she observed.
That was an understatement. My entire career was based on things that sparked my interest. “Always have been.”
Alyssa still looked doubtful. “I’ll try with the exercise, but it’s never been my strong suit.”
I gave her an easy wink. “Luckily, I’m a good teacher.”
“You might not say that after you work with me.”
She was wrong about that for several reasons. But all I said was, “Since you’ll be the only student, I guarantee you’ll be at the top of the class.”
8
Alyssa
“Lyss.”
The syllable was soft, almost a whisper, but the sexy masculine voice made my heart race. I turned to him, and his eyes flared with pleasure when he saw the silky lingerie I was wearing. He held out his hands and I went to him, pressing my body against his.
“Alyssa?”
God, he felt good. I wrapped my arms around his neck, rising on my tiptoes to kiss him, but for some reason he pulled away.
“Wake up, Alyssa.”
The dream vanished, leaving confusion in my head … and heat in my core. “What?”
Spencer stood next to the bed. “Were you dreaming?”
“Yes.” My face flushed. “Why?”
“You were squirming around a bit.”
Oh god. Already the dream was fading from my mind, but I remembered enough to know it was hot—and that it possibly involved Spencer. Either him or Raphael. “Did I say anything?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Spencer looked amused. “Are you up for joining us for dinner?”
“But it’s only—” I located my phone and grimaced. “Oh. Guess it is dinner time.”
“Yeah, we eat pretty early so the kids can have time for baths, homework, and reading before bed.” Spencer leaned against the windowsill, his broad shoulders blocking the late afternoon light.
I pushed myself into a sitting position, trying not to wince. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”
“Your body needs to heal. Plus, I would imagine the meds might make you drowsy, too.”
“Yeah, probably.” I really needed to read the fine print on the bottles, but that would require staying awake for a decent chunk of time.
“So, would you like to join us out on the deck?” Spencer crossed his arms.
“The deck?”
“Yeah, that’s where we eat dinner most days, unless it’s raining. The fresh air might do you some good.”
That actually did sound nice. It felt like I’d been cooped up inside—first the hospital, and now here—for far too long. “That would be great.”
“Good. The twins are eager for you to join us.” A smile crossed his lips. “I am, too. Do you have a jacket in the things Raphael brought you?”
“Yes, on the dresser there’s a blue sweater.”
Spencer located it and then lifted me to my feet. I put my hand on his shoulder for balance while I slipped the other arm into the soft sweater he held out.
Being this close to him felt like déjà vu, somehow. Had he been in my dream? He was definitely dream-worthy. His stomach was flat, but his chest and arms rippled with muscle. Again, it was hard to believe that he was an elementary school principal.
Maybe that wasn’t fair of me. After all, he was great with the kids; that much was obvious from the way he acted with Charlotte and Lucas. But principals weren’t supposed to be, well, hot. Spencer was proving to be the exception to that rule.
It felt ridiculous to be carried to dinner, especially when we walked past the kitchen. Raphael gave me a little salute from his position by the stove, and I couldn’t help grinning back, even though it felt like my face was on fire. My embarrassment over being carried didn’t stop me from noticing how amazing Raphael’s food smelled.
Cool air surrounded me as soon as we were outside, and it felt great. The air was scented with the smell of green, living things—likely the trees behind the house. They were tall, mature trees that looked nothing like what I was used to in Colorado.