Big Girl Panties (13 page)

“Excuse me, miss,” he teased when she bounded through the door and jumped on a treadmill after dropping a duffel bag on the floor, “but this is a private gym and I already have a client in this time slot.”

“Knock it off, Logan,” she told him, flushing with discomfort and feeling more idiotic than attractive. She turned on the treadmill to begin a quick warm-up.

“What are you talking about?” he responded energetically, making a concerted effort to keep eye contact and failing, his gaze drifting back to her chest. “Holly, you look spectacular, although I really pictured you as more of an Adidas girl. I like the new hair. What's with the bag? Are we going to have another towel debate?”

“I'm going to shower real quick here tonight, if that's all right. Amanda and I are going to the stadium to catch the game. It'll save me a few minutes.”

“Of course it's fine,” he said, more churlish than he would have liked, although she didn't notice.

Logan was miffed and couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Sure, he knew his program would pay off. He had seen the results on the scale every week. Still, he was taken off guard by the change. Maybe because he hadn't authorized the upgrade. Maybe because he had a pretty good idea of who was behind it. Odds were it wasn't Holly.

But this was
his
job,
his
objective being achieved. Why should he care who encouraged Holly to branch out and fully embrace the fruits of her labor? Still, it took real effort for him to not show any outward disgruntlement.

Logan never dreamed Holly's session would slowly turn into his own personal hell. It wasn't just because of her now prominently displayed breasts. Without the benefit of the oversized sweats and shirt, each time Holly moved, he watched seemingly placid flesh twitch as distinctive muscle took its place. She was wonderfully proportioned, something the T-shirts and sweatpants had successfully camouflaged. Her backside was tantalizing and heart shaped.

Holly pulled and stretched and grunted, her focus completely on the exercises he put before her, ignorant to his newfound fascination with her. The guttural sounds that escaped from deep within Holly as she summoned the strength to lift weights in a set now began sounding more sensual. Sweat soaked through the shirt, down her back, and between her legs. Hair that was no longer concealed in a ponytail fell free in dampened disarray.

It was worse than any aphrodisiac. Reacting to Holly was unexpected. He would have to get his testosterone in check.

Still, he couldn't help but be proud of her. This was a victory they had every right to share, wasn't it?

When Amanda came into the gym near the end of Holly's workout, Logan felt himself becoming annoyed all over again. He took a quick look at the clock on the wall.

“You want a stretch? I can see your date is here,” he said to Holly, nodding his head in the direction of the door. They both looked to the entrance and waved at Amanda.

“I feel pretty good,” Holly replied, grabbing her bag off the floor and heading toward the changing room. “I can stretch myself out tomorrow. I'll be right out,” she called over her shoulder.

Logan felt his jaw start to clench, deliberating whether he was pissed off at Holly's cavalier departure from an important element of her workout or relieved that she would be leaving that much quicker and he wouldn't have to touch her.

“Doesn't Holly look great, Logan?” Amanda remarked as the door closed, forcing him to end his internal debate before its final conclusion.

He narrowed his eyes in Amanda's direction. “If you work the program, the program works, Amanda. You know that.”

“You know, you really do have a phrase for everything,” she laughingly replied, and then added, “I know you're a professional and all that, but I really expected you to show a bit more enthusiasm. You have to admit, the haircut alone is pretty astounding. You should have seen the glee on the face of my hairdresser when he started hacking off all those dead ends. Care to join us?”

“I can't take in a game tonight,” he told her, starting to return all the weights Holly used during her session to their designated spots. “I have another client tonight and a six o'clock tomorrow morning.”

Amanda didn't bother to mask her disappointment. “Come on, we'll have you home by midnight. We won't even go out to eat, I promise.”

“I just told you, I have another client in fifteen minutes,” he said curtly.

“You can meet up with us after.”

“Sorry, kid, I can't tonight,” he told her testily, grabbing the towels and cleaner spray bottle from where he kept them and beginning to wipe down the equipment Holly had used.

“If you insist,” Amanda said with a sigh, then tried a different tactic. “Maybe we'll go out after with one of the guys from the team.”

“Just remember,” Logan said, pointing to the door, “your new friend in there isn't used to being the center of attention. You may not want to throw her into the deep end too quickly.”

He had reacted and she didn't miss it. Amanda smiled sweetly. “Oh, Logan, don't be silly. I'm not going to throw her anywhere. I just want to introduce her to some of the guys on the team. Unless, of course, you think that's a bad idea. Or you mind.”

“Why would I mind?” Logan said a little too quickly. “Unless you're really up to something.”

“What would I be up to?” Amanda asked, following behind him as he saw to his task.

“Oh, I don't know, trying to make me jealous maybe?” he stated simply, spraying a weight bench with disinfectant and promptly wiping it clean.

“You're not the jealous type, remember?”

Logan stopped what he was doing and took a quick look at the changing-room door to make sure Holly was still securely inside. He took a step closer to Amanda, his voice lowering. “Maybe because of the not-so-subtle makeover attempt?”

Amanda managed to look aghast but was secretly overjoyed. He had noticed. “That almost sounds like this is about you. Sorry to rain on your
My Fair Lady
parade, but you'd have to agree—it's time for Holly to start living again in the real world, and I just thought the sooner the better. And what makeover? Some gym clothes that fit, and a much-needed haircut?”

Logan went back to what he was doing, afraid she was getting too close to the truth. “You forget. I know you. It's something you would do hoping to get a reaction out of me.”

“Did it work?” she asked, blatantly hopeful.

Logan went back to cleaning weight equipment. If Amanda even sensed his recent inner turmoil there would be no stopping her.

“I just don't want you filling her head with ideas that aren't going to happen,” he said, refusing to answer the question.

“Thanks for the clarification. My mistake. I'm glad you won't mind,” Amanda said, going over to the closed door and giving it a loud knock. “Come on, Holly! If we get out of here soon we can wander around near the field during the batting warm-ups!”

“Why would I mind?” he muttered, realizing he was repeating himself. He tried to cover it up with an overly casual, “Just do us all a favor: please keep her away from Aaron McAllister. He's got more notches on his bedpost than Hugh Hefner. I don't want to see her hurt, or needing a round of penicillin.”

“Eww. That's so weird, Chase said the same thing. Not that either one of you had to. You can read ‘creeper' written all over Aaron's face from the minute he says hello. I was thinking more along the lines of Troy Miller. Recently divorced, kind of shy and reserved. He's terribly cute, and if I remember correctly, his ex-wife was the crunchy-granola-earth-mother type.”

“Which is the nice way of saying she isn't a supermodel. Ever think maybe that's
why
he's divorced?” Logan said with a jeer. “Maybe Troy realized he could trade up.”

It was Amanda's turn to narrow her eyes. “And you realize how shallow that sounds, right, Logan? I'm going to pretend you didn't say it and attribute your bad manners to my badgering you. Or maybe you realize that Troy might actually be interested in someone like Holly and you're just trying to convince yourself that Holly isn't really all that attractive.”

He had the decency to look ashamed. “Go with door number one and consider yourself on my last nerve. It was a rotten thing to say. I admit it. But I'm starting to feel smothered by your best intentions. Holly's my friend. Why can't that be enough for you?”

“Because deep down inside, I know it's not enough for you,” Amanda told him, supremely confident. “You're just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I'm stubborn? I guess I should take your word for it. You are the walking definition,” Logan said, hating that for all intents and purposes, her plan had worked. The last hour was the proof. “I realize you think you're helping me here, but please, Amanda, I'm begging you. Just let it be.”

The answer to his plea came with the opening of the changing-room door. Holly stepped out, wearing white jeans with a lilac-colored baby-doll shirt and strappy wedge sandals. The pants were snug, clinging to her thighs and hips without gaps or bulges or panty lines. The shirt, with its little puffs at the shoulders, exposed her now well-toned arms and encased and enhanced her ample breasts before cutting in just below them and flaring out over her newly indented waistline. The familiar scent of CK One that normally surrounded her was replaced with an expensive perfume that was lighter, fresher, and sexier and seemed to magically waft from where she was standing to his nostrils in record time. Her newly cut bob was gelled back and still wet-looking, making her eyes look like shiny emeralds. Her pretty lips glistened with a touch of gloss. She gave Amanda and Logan a shaky smile. “I'm ready to go.”

Logan swallowed hard, tried to ignore the movement in his groin, and mentally ran through the list of women's numbers in his BlackBerry he'd start calling as soon as his last client left.

He told them to have a good time.

Chapter Eleven

A
manda was relentless. She threw Holly and Logan together whenever she could. Kings games, dinners, the theater. Logan decided early on that as long as he didn't pick Holly up, pay her tab every time, and take her home or kiss her good night, it wasn't a date.

And truth be told, Holly was an excellent companion. She even broke up the tedium of Chase and Amanda's public displays of affection, often joining him in covert grumblings of shared irritation at their sappiness. But the more Amanda worked her angle, the more Logan found himself acting as chauffeur, and the more he did pay the bill. And the more he thought about what it would be like to end the evenings with his lips locked on Holly's.

Logan started calling out of the blue to invite Holly to movies and walks and sometimes just to check in on how her day went. It seemed so natural, the ebb and flow of their daily routines meshing together around their common goal. Holly was always happy to hear from him and she never burdened him with drama or endless transparent flirtations. She didn't really know much about sports, other than her limited knowledge of the Kings, but she didn't mind learning about them either. She did know quite a bit about hockey, citing that an appreciation of ice hockey was any good Canadian's duty. She was willing to experience anything he suggested with a childlike wonder. It was like having a guy friend, except every now and then, he thought about what it would be like to have sex with her, since by the end of her training sessions he had begun to picture her naked. It was taking more of his concentration to get through her stretches. As soon as she obediently got down onto the mat, he could almost hear her body, firmer now and better proportioned, warm and glistening from her exertions, calling out for his touch.

Her sweat-saturated hair began to paint a picture in his imagination of how she might look after having been voraciously sexed up or just getting out of the shower. It became a struggle to keep his eyes from wandering to the perfectly shaped triangle of moisture that had built up between her legs and now seemed to invite him to bury his face there.

The rationale to his unprofessionalism and obsession was simple, Logan told himself. Holly was the first woman he'd allowed into his life who didn't want him, sexually or otherwise. There were no catches or hidden agendas. She was perfectly content with his mentoring and friendship. And it was a friendship that he thoroughly enjoyed, although he wasn't used to it. It added an allure to her that he was sure he could learn to ignore. He just had to wait it out.

It was a Thursday night in early September. Chase was enjoying a night off and invited Logan to join him and Amanda at a local pub near their home to shoot some pool and have a few beers. The tavern was small and intimate, with an outdated pinball machine in the corner and a jukebox filled with songs that spanned decades beside it. A well-worn dartboard hung on a wall. A pool table took up nearly half the space in the tavern. There were five small tables just beyond the entrance and a bar with about twenty stools that ran along it. Although clean and tidy, there was no mistaking it: McDuff's was a dive that always carried with it the faint scent of a keg having recently been dumped over and mopped up. The Walkers had been going there since stumbling across it by accident after moving into the mansion Chase had custom-built three years ago. A scouting expedition, as Chase would call them, the random, destinationless drives he would take whenever he had a few days in a new town. He would rent a car and forgo the use of a GPS, get in it, and drive, satisfying his wanderlust and occasional need for solitude. In his car he was guaranteed the privacy he sometimes craved but couldn't always attain. Once Amanda began to join him on the road, she would ride shotgun and together they would venture out to explore all the tucked-away nooks and crannies the world had to offer. When they found McDuff's after pulling into its empty parking lot one evening to escape a sudden torrential downpour, it was like discovering an oasis. He and Amanda spent several hours that night chatting up the owner, who remained tight-lipped about their sudden appearance, except to strongly suggest to his regulars that they do the same. It became the go-to place where they could escape Chase's celebrity status and still go out and relax.

If Chase was terribly surprised when Logan came through the door with Holly in tow, he didn't show it. He looked briefly to his wife, who bestowed on him a gloating smile.

“Well, that just saved me a phone call,” Amanda whispered to Chase as they approached, confident he wouldn't be able to reprimand her before Logan and Holly joined them.

“Don't start,” Chase mouthed in reply before smiling at the couple. “There he is. Hi, Holly, he talked you into slumming it tonight?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Holly responded, setting her purse on the bar and taking a quick look around, liking what she saw. “This place has a down-home feeling I could learn to love.”

Amanda seized the moment immediately. “See, Logan? Not every girl needs to be stepping out of a limo in the high-rent district.”

“Yes, Amanda.” Logan sighed and threw in an exaggerated look heavenward. “You prove it to me time and time again. And just when I thought the last perfect girl was taken. To think, there I was, getting ready to ask Chase if we could have you cloned.”

“Not on your life, dude.” Chase wrapped an overprotective arm around his wife's shoulder and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her forehead. “There are just some things that are one of a kind and aren't meant to be shared.”

“Right back at you, babe,” Amanda replied, leaning into him.

“Not to mention, I can barely keep up with the antics of one; can you imagine the kind of havoc a carbon copy of her would create?” Chase added, kissing her again.

Amanda playfully slapped her husband in his midsection. “You would somehow find a way to marry us both.”

“She's right, you know,” Logan said in agreement, looking to Holly. “It would probably kill him, but he would find a way.”

Chase finally relinquished his grip on his wife and reached for his beer. “But what a way to go, my friends, what a way to go.”

“I think if you took them both to Utah, you might be able to make it happen,” Holly said, feeling like the fourth wheel on a tricycle but wanting to say something. Once again she had been reminded that even though Logan had a perfectly good woman accompanying him, he'd rather create a clone more in keeping with his good taste.

Nervous laughter followed by uncomfortable silence hung heavy in the air.

“Logan? You up for looking stupid at pool?” Amanda said, sensing the general discomfort. “Holly, you play? We could play doubles.”

“I don't,” Holly admitted. “I mean, I'll try, but I'm really more of a liability.”

“That settles that,” Chase said gallantly, smiling furtively at his wife. “I'm going to sit this one out, too. But I'll take winner.”

Amanda blinked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent-looking; returned his smile with a coy one of her own; and leaned into him to place her lips on his. “Keep an eye on him, Holly,” she said after pulling back, never taking her eyes off her husband's. Amanda gave Chase a little wink before turning and sashaying her way across the room. Logan rolled his eyes briefly at Holly and mimicked the motion of sticking his finger down his throat at yet another public display of affection that they were forced to bear witness to. He turned to join Amanda at the pool table.

Holly and Chase were left at the end of the bar. A few other patrons were scattered about, but all of them knew Chase as a regular and after having greeted him upon his arrival, they were inclined to give him some space. Chase and Holly leaned against the bar, watching Logan and Amanda try to psych each other out as she racked the balls on the pool table and he chalked up a pool stick.

“It's all going to be okay, you know,” Chase said quietly, seemingly to no one in particular.

“Oh, I know,” Holly turned her head and told him quickly, wishing they could drop the conversation before it even started, afraid of even taking a guess as to the underlying meaning of Chase's vague statement.

Chase continued in the same quiet tone, outwardly fixated on the game taking place twenty feet away. “I see the way you look at him now. When you're sure he isn't watching.”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, her face clouding over with trepidation. What he was talking about became crystal clear and a new, much bigger problem presented itself. She was now more worried that if Chase could tell so easily, she was no longer any good at hiding it.

He turned to her and smiled, piercing sea-green eyes alight with knowing. “It is to me. So different from the girl I first met last summer. But then again, that girl is different in a lot of ways now, isn't she?”

Holly felt herself blushing under his warm gaze and was thankful for the bar's dim lighting. Chase was so handsome yet different from Logan. It was an approachable attractiveness that in the beginning Holly was able to work up a resistance to after her initial curiosity with him. It would have been easy for him to be conceited, but she was surprised to find he was gentle and unassuming, conscious of everything going on around him. She had spent so much time in his presence these last several months, and she had been careful never to view him as anything more than her new friend's adoring husband, but now, with Chase's focus and attention solely on her, Holly had no choice but to acknowledge him. And with his appealing, knowing smile came a stark realization. He wasn't just making small talk and he wasn't trying to pry; he just totally understood her predicament. Everything she had heard from Amanda and read and witnessed from a safe distance was true. Chase was open-minded, caring, and a true romantic at heart. That if Holly lied to him about where he wanted to take this conversation, he would be disappointed with her. And for reasons she couldn't even fathom, she didn't want to disappoint him.

“But change is good, isn't it?” She tried to sound confident, bringing her beer up to her mouth.

“Of course, especially when it comes to doing something for your health.” Chase willingly agreed, turning his attention back to the pool table for a moment just as Amanda was calling an across-the-table shot. He watched her bend over to line up her aim, her generous round backside in his direct line of view. As if she felt his gaze upon her, Amanda gave a discreet look over her shoulder, made eye contact with him, and with the tiniest upturn of her full lips, pulled back the cue. As soon as Amanda neatly made the shot, Chase turned his attention back to Holly, his patented boyish grin in place. “Sorry about that. She knows watching her play pool makes me crazy. She is so in for it when I get her home.”

Holly felt a new warmth rise to her cheeks, but this one from his direct implication. Holly wasn't sure if he meant Amanda would later find herself across his knees, or thoroughly ravished, or both. It was still a strange feeling to Holly, knowing such a detail about Chase and Amanda's private life, despite the fact that he seemed to have no trouble casually referencing it. Holly wondered if the comment was Chase's way of making sure that his current personal interest in Holly was in no way a blurring of boundaries. And if she was correct, she could certainly see the reasoning behind it. Chase probably had someone falling in love with him a hundred times a day; his natural way of caring about people combined with his good looks was easy to misconstrue. But it was obvious that Chase Walker was a one-woman man. Holly felt a twinge of envy. Amanda had this man openly confessing that she drove him to the brink of insanity.

“The only person I ever managed to make crazy was myself,” Holly murmured.

Chase let loose a laugh. “Good one. Amanda keeps telling me you're hilarious.”

“What has Logan told you?” she blurted out, her eyes darting briefly to the pool table and back. She figured that if the proverbial jig was already up, she could drop the whole nonchalance routine.

Chase stopped laughing but his smile remained. He crossed his arms against his hulking chest.

“Ah. Yes. Logan. What has Logan told me? I guess the real question would have to be, what hasn't he told me?” he wondered aloud.

Holly immediately regretted asking the question and attempted to take her words back. “I don't mean to stick you in an awkward position, Chase. He's your friend. You have no loyalty to me. Forget I asked.”

“Now, hold on a minute, little lady. You're not even letting me answer the question,” Chase drawled, turning his back on the game, sitting down on a stool, and leaning his elbows on the bar. Holly followed suit and Chase gave a quick wave of his bottle to Glen, the bartender, indicating they were ready for fresh beers. Glen was a mild-mannered, pleasant-looking blue-collar type in his early thirties, sporting several tattoos and friendly blue eyes. He took care of the Walkers and Logan for their tips, not for their celebrity status. It was only a matter of seconds before four fresh bottles were set down in front of them.

“I'll leave these other two unopened, Chase,” Glen told them, opening two of the bottles and making direct eye contact with Holly, giving her a smile and a nod. “In case they get warm before Amanda and Logan are ready for them and you want to switch them out.”

“Thanks, Glen,” Chase replied, laying a fifty on the bar.

“I've known Logan for almost half my life,” Chase said thoughtfully after the bartender brought over his change and wandered away from earshot. He took a sip out of his new bottle. “Certainly the best parts. Not sure if I could have gone the distance without him. We have a lot in common. We enjoy seeing the results that come with hard work. We know we've been blessed in our lives and that we're the only ones who can be responsible for our own happiness.”

“That's a good way to be,” Holly replied, taking a swig of her beer, thinking how easy that way of thinking must be when everything goes your way.