Loco (10 page)

He pondered her question for a long moment, staring at her. Just watching her eat turned him on.
You have it bad.
"What else would I do? It's not like me or the other guys can simply retire, go to work in a cubicle, and be content for life."

Her green eyes appraised him; intelligence and curiosity showed in their depths.

A blaring ring cut through their conversation. Tanner plucked his phone out of his pocket, noted the phone number, and immediately answered. "Owens."

Dr Miller's voice came across. "Loco. Just the man I was looking for."

"I guess so, since you called me." Tanner grinned, winking at Oakley as she blatantly eavesdropped from across the table.

The older man snorted. "Smart ass. I've got some free time tomorrow afternoon. You want to do lunch?"

Tanner watched as Oakley's tongue reached out, licking the remaining maple syrup off her fork. His groin immediately tightened with remembrance of how that tongue felt on him.

"Loco? Can you hear me?"

"I'm here."

He chuckled through the phone. "Would that be my former employee that has you all engrossed on everything but this conversation"

"Uh-huh."

"So, are you free for lunch or busy playing with your neighbor?"

Tanner refocused on the conversation. "I'm free. Where and when?"

Dr Miller named a location. Tanner agreed after a bit more prompting from Dr Miller to keep his attention on the matter at hand.

"Try to keep up, Loco."

"You have no idea."

The older man laughed. "Oh, I bet I do. See ya tomorrow."

"Yeah." Tanner shut his phone.

"Hot date?" Oakley grinned at him, mischief plastered across her face.

Lowering his voice, Tanner leaned in. "Yes. And because you distracted me with that tongue job on your fork, I'm not telling you anything more."

She giggled. "Even if I make it up to you later?"

He bit back a groan, a wicked thought running through his mind. "Maybe." He shoveled in food, pushing those erotic images away. At this rate, he would have to take a cold shower or three before meeting with Dr Miller. That or go to lunch with a hard-on that wouldn't subside. Neither one appealed.

Never before had he wanted a woman so badly. He'd been with lots of women, gorgeous woman, and not one made him feel so jacked up with simple bantering at the breakfast table. Hell, he'd never fixated on a woman while she ate, finding the simple act sexy beyond belief. The power she held over him would be downright frightening if he didn't see her inner self, the compassion, the sincerity. No ulterior motives existed; he knew it for a fact. Oakley showed her true colors to him and everyone else she met, yet asked nothing in return.

He could get used to this. Sitting at the table with Oakley, tossing sexual innuendos back and forth, teasing and enticing, cranking up the passion until they could fall into bed, hastily shucking clothing along the way. He envisioned her with a baby bump, his hands molding over the evidence of their love.

A child? Love? What in the hell am I thinking?

Startled, he shook his head, trying to clear the uncomfortable daydreams that appeared out of nowhere. He had lost his ever-loving mind if he considered having a child. Love wasn't something he wanted to look at too deeply, but he didn't automatically toss out the possibility. But a child? A family? Those words never entered into his thoughts until now. His job didn't allow the luxury of a family anyway.

"Tanner. Earth to Tanner." Oakley's voice pried through his thoughts.

He blinked up at her, finding her lips twitching with mirth.

"Cat got your tongue?"

He grinned back. "Oh, I was just considering all kinds of uses for yours."

She squirmed on her seat as a low whimper escaped her throat. Turnabout was fair play. Besides, he enjoyed watching her desire escalate, knowing it would simmer all afternoon in anticipation of his return tomorrow.

Nothing would keep him away, knowing Oakley sat at home, hot and wet, watching the clock until she could tear away from the computer and jump his bones.

His phone rang once more, this time in a different tone. Without looking at the number, he answered, "Owens."

"Hey, buddy. Got time and energy to burn. Want to meet me at the big gym?" Spoon asked.

"When?"

"An hour? Don't tell me you're just now dragging yourself out of bed."

Tanner snorted. "I've been up a while, I'll have you know." He looked over at Oakley. "Feel like working out?"

She bobbed her head, emptying her glass of juice.

"Okay. An hour. Later." He slapped the phone closed.

"Boy, you're popular today."

"Too popular." He glanced down at his wrinkled garments. "I guess I should go shower and change. I'll be back in thirty and we'll hit the road."

Chapter 17

True to his word, Tanner cleaned up and returned a few minutes later for Oakley, piling her in the car and heading toward the private gym in town.

Oakley stepped through the doors, bracketed by Tanner and Spoon, her eyes wide, spying all the equipment, the floor-to-ceiling climbing wall, a true obstacle course, pool, and floor mats for wrestling or martial arts. All that could be easily seen from the main entrance area. Several doors led off the back and sides, probably containing other goodies for the dedicated athlete. It put her small community gym to shame. A few men worked out here and there, the low number probably due to the time of day on a weekday, when most others would be working. But the ones that were there could pass for a professional athlete or model of the year in her book with their toned bodies, bulging muscles, and youthful appearance.

"Come on," Spoon called over his shoulder, leading the way toward the wall. After a few minutes of basic stretches and jogging in place to warm muscles, they turned their attention to the massive obstacle before them.

An attendant grabbed a safety harness as Spoon stepped up, helping him put it on and checking the latches. He did the same for Tanner. Both men stepped to the mat adjacent to the wall. On the count of three, they leaped, grasping for a purchase as they scaled upward with ease, hand-over-hand with feet pushing off each small ledge.

Oakley stood at the base and watched in amazement.

The attendant stepped over, whistling low. "Damn."

She agreed wholeheartedly. They ascended with fluid grace, speed, and agility as if they spent half their lives on a circus trapeze. Gifted. The word described their amazing abilities when it came to superhuman feats.

Tanner descended first, landing solidly on his feet, his breathing a bit hard, but nothing like she expected from such exertion. He immediately pulled his harness off and dropped it on the mat. Spoon followed suit, unsnapped his harness, and handed it over to the attendant, who carefully wrapped it around Oakley.

She lifted her arms, watching while the young man fitted everything snug down to her smaller frame. He gave her a quick smile and nod before returning to his spot off the mat. Tanner strode over, tugging on the lines, checking each clasp himself before giving her a small nod. "You're good to go."

"Why didn't you double-check the harness like this when you wore it?"

He grinned. "We don't need a safety belt, wouldn't wear it except for it being the gym's policy."

"Oh." She could see his point. Anyone with the strength and power to float up the wall probably didn't have much fear of falling off. Unlike her. She looked up, seeing endless notches and bulges for arm and foot holds.
Dang intimidating.

"One step and handhold at a time. The right shoes will make it easier. We'll deal with that next time," Tanner advised, escorting her to the starting point. "Don't try to rush. Just focus on each movement. Next thing you know, you'll be at the top."

Uh-huh. He was delusional too.
Oakley took a deep breath, placed her foot on the first outcropping, grasped onto a ledge and started the sheer climb. Refusing to look anywhere but directly ahead or above, she concentrated on just getting one more level. Slowly but surely, she progressed, her arms burning from the novel strain.

Tanner called encouragement from below, advising a shift now and again, coaching her to the easier path when she veered to one side or another.

Her fingers, wet from sweat, slipped from a hold. She squealed, locking down with her secure hand and foot purchase as she gasped for air.

"You're okay."

She peeked down at him, and then realized that wasn't such a good idea as her head spun with the height. Too bad she couldn't defy gravity like they could.

With a deep breath, she wiped her hand on her T-shirt, and tried the hold once more, sighing in relief when it held. A grunt later, she reached the top, out of breath, sweating like a goon, and unsure if her arms would ever be the same again. She wasn't sure, but thought with all the times they held her body weight, her arms might have elongated an inch or so. Too tired to try to reverse course, she opted for the easy way down, releasing the wall and letting the harness support her, and slowly lower her down.

Tanner caught her as she landed. "You did great!"

Spoon removed the harness, throwing in his words of praise. "Wonderful job, especially for a first-timer."

"I can't feel my arms."

Both men chuckled. "Don't worry. Rehydrate, rest for a few, and they'll come back."

Spoon slapped a bottle of water in her hands before leading the way to the next station.

A long clothesline-looking device ran the length of the building, starting from a tall platform near the ceiling, then lowering at an angle, until it ended with large blue pads at the far end. A zip-line, they called it.

As she watched, a man zinged down the line, harness in place, while holding onto something resembling a trapeze bar. When he reached the end, he released the bar, landing on his rear before skidding to a stop.

She cringed at the thought. After last night's sexual activities, a definite ache appeared between her thighs. It wasn't bad, nothing more than typical discomforts any athlete would experience on a day-to-day basis. Until this morning. The second round, though remarkable and drool-worthy, left her with a decided ouchie. Plunking down squarely on the area with that amount of force and speed sent a shudder down her spine. "No, thanks. You guys go ahead. I'll pass on this one."

Tanner arched a brow, nudging her with his elbow. "Come on. It's fun. Really."

Spoon glanced from Tanner to her, a slow wicked smile cropping up on his face.

"I'm sure it is. All but the landing."

"The landing is the easy part," Tanner prodded, working hard to convince her.

The goon didn't get it.
A blowtorch blasted across her face. She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Tanner. I'm sore… down there. Landing on my butt will hurt."

Tanner stared down at her in surprise, as if he'd never considered that possibility.

Spoon burst out laughing. "He's slow on the uptake sometimes."

Tanner snorted. Pulling her into his arms, he nuzzled her cheek, whispering in her ear. "I'm sorry. I didn't think. Do you need to go home?"

She soaked up his attentions for a second before pushing back, plastering a smile on her face. "Nope. I'm fine. I just don't want to take on the zip-line right now. So, you guys go play on this one and I'll watch."

Spoon grabbed Tanner by the upper arm, dragging him toward the tower. He said something Oakley couldn't hear, but figured it pertained to her from Tanner's wide smile and the way both men looked over their shoulders at her.

Her face heated all the more. Nothing like declaring intimate details in public and in front of a legion of men, no less.

Much to her chagrin and embarrassment, Tanner pampered her after that confession, watching her closely as if he expected her to crumple from the physical workout. He steered her away from anything he thought might aggravate her condition, standing her on the sidelines while he and Spoon tackled rope climbing and the obstacle course.

Oakley paused at the sparring mat, the men moving past her. "Hey. Aren't you guys going to kung fu with me?" She gestured to the mat with a smile on her face.

Tanner shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

She blinked over at him. "Once again, I'm fine. I can do this." When he didn't respond, she turned her attention to his buddy. "Spoon?"

He stepped back, both hands in the air as if to surrender. "Oh, no. First time I lay a hand on you, Tanner will kick my ass."

She snorted. "He will not."

"Yes, he will," Tanner said with a clipped tone, glaring at Spoon.

Men. Grumbling under her breath, she stuck her hands on her hips, gazing at Tanner. "Okay. Back to you. It's not like we haven't done this before."

He rolled his eyes. "Exactly."

His response confused her. The two times before, she landed flat on her back with Tanner kissing the breath out of her. Her eyes widened with understanding.

"You got it, minx. Sparring with you is foreplay, damn good foreplay."

Spoon coughed loudly, covering a less than subtle bark of laughter. Tanner shot him a withering look before turning back to Oakley. "I'm not running around this place with the hard-on from hell and I don't think you want sex on the mat for all to see, especially with you already being sore. Thus, we skip it." His eyes smoldered with intensity.

Her belly flopped over with his abrupt words. "Good idea," she whispered, beating down the growing desire while averting her eyes. At this rate, she wouldn't be able to face Spoon for the next decade without turning beet red.

The guys moved on, showing off for her and the sparse audience. Men gawked at their skills, showing appreciation with hollers and applause. Spoon and Tanner took it all in stride, as if it was just another day at the office. On second thought, it probably was just another day for them. She didn't have a clue about Marine training, especially at upper levels, but she imagined grueling workouts with all sorts of challenges on little rest. It only garnered more respect and admiration in her book.

She did a few more activities, closely monitored by Tanner. Deep down, she preened with his attention and protective streak even as her stubborn independent nature fought against letting him treat her with kid gloves. She decided he would figure out her toughness, give or take a year.

After the guys finished, they headed back to the parking lot, Oakley pulling up the rear.

Spoon gave her a quick hug and whispered in her ear, "You're good for him." With a wink to her, he hollered at Tanner, then climbed in his vehicle and took off.

She stepped up into Tanner's vehicle, sliding alongside him. He shoved the keys in the ignition, checking her out with his peripheral vision.

Uncomfortable with the tense silence, she initiated conversation. "That was fun. Maybe we can come back soon?"

He grunted, started the engine, and pulled out into traffic. "Probably."

"I can try the zip-line next time. It does look like fun."

Tanner spared her a glance. "Why didn't you tell me you were sore this morning?"

She blinked at the sudden change in topic.
So that's the thorn in his butt.
Clamping down on her patience, she sought to explain. "I wasn't
too
sore."

"But it was uncomfortable," he insisted.

Good grief.
How did a woman explain such a thing to a hardheaded man? Her face flamed. "Tanner. It's just sore muscles, like if you run extra far or hard. I loved this morning, as I'm sure you already know."

He stopped at a red light, staring her straight in the face. "I didn't hurt you?"

"As if." She waved with her hand. "I was on top and set the pace. Besides, it was afterward when I began to feel it, not before. You didn't hurt me. I liked it and its just simple sore muscles. No big deal. Give me a day and I'll be back in the saddle again."

A slow grin appeared on his face. "You like being a cowgirl, huh?"

She read between the lines, easily picking up his poorly cloaked reference. Heat returned to her face with a vengeance. "Neanderthal."

Tanner laughed, reaching out to pat her knee. "And you wouldn't have me any other way."

"Just don't drag me to your cave by the hair." She joined in the teasing, relieved to see the return of his amusement. "I might not like that."

His eyes flashed with mischief. "My little cave woman."

She snorted. "I may cook and clean, but I refuse to wear animal hides and stick a bone in my hair."

"I know somewhere else you can stick my bone." His words dripped with sensual huskiness.

"Oh, good grief." She covered her face with her hands and ignored Tanner's guffaw. Men may think of sex every six seconds, but she would bet her last dollar Tanner exceeded the average.