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Sunday morning arrived with a brilliant blue sky and calm waters as she looked out her window. Mika stretched and smiled at her first glorious day in her new home. She’d made herself a promise and was going to keep it.
She pulled a pair of loose jogging pants from a box. All her clothes were on the loose side for a reason. As she sat down on the bed, she stared down at her legs. The battle she’d waged left scars, but she was winning, at least for now, and tugged on her pants and the rest of her running outfit. After chugging down a glass of orange juice, she wandered out her front door.
Breeze barked and ran across the lawn that separated her place from the main house. Mika followed the instructions she’d read online about doing several minutes of stretching before heading out on a jog. As she lunged forward, stretching her thigh muscles, a ball dropped at her feet. She laughed, picked it up and tossed it.
“You throw like a girl.” She heard from behind her.
“That’s odd,” she said, squeezing her brow together. “My sex change was supposed to take care of that.”
Cain’s eyes widened.
“Course I throw like a girl. I am a girl.”
He looked a little embarrassed even though his sexy dark features didn’t shift all that much.
“You run?”
“Yes, but I’m a rookie.”
Cain’s running gear looked high end and fit his chiseled body like a professional athlete. “How long have you been running?” he asked, stretching out.
She pretended not to copy him, but she did. “Today,” she said, peeking at what Cain did next. “Usually I work out on the base and use their facilities, or else I just take one big-ass, long walk.”
He watched her while she tried to look less like a newbie and more like a serious athlete.
“Well, you’re doing those wrong.” He knelt with one knee beside her. His hand cupped the underside of her thigh and anchored her heel. “Now push forward.”
“Whoa,” she exclaimed, feeling the muscle stretch.
“Good,” he said. “Other leg.”
As she did it, he slowly let go and allowed her to get the feel without his hand putting resistance on her heel.
“Another one I use is this. It focuses on hips and glutes.”
Watching him first, she then imitated his movements. She felt the pull and nodded.
“These are called the squat-thrust climbers. Stand with your arms at your sides. Squat to the ground with your knees close together. Place your hands flat on the ground, shoulder-width apart. Keep your abs tight, and jump your legs back to assume the pushup position.”
Mika kinda forgot what she was doing because as soon as he tightened his abs and assumed the position, as he called it, his upper arms clenched with muscle and her abs tightened all by themselves. He slowly turned his sharp jaw toward her, waiting.
She scrambled down on all fours, but not nearly as elegantly as him. He jumped up and walked behind her.
“Up on your toes,” he commanded. “Straighten your body out a bit more.”
She blew out her breath, already feeling her arm muscles begin to yell at her. Man, she had a long way to go.
Cain’s large hands gently grasped her hips. “I’m going to hold some of your weight, now run your legs under your chest, bringing your knees high and keep your hips low. Then jump your legs back to the squat position, stand and repeat.”
Worried he might end up with a hernia if he held her ass up, she said, “Show me.” Yeah, it was sneaky, but she had to shake her arms out.
Cain’s strength made the exercise look easy. When he finished, he loosened his shoulders with a slow roll.
“Your turn.”
“Crap. Can’t I just run until I’m panting and then give up?”
A smile curled his lips. “I suppose, but if you’re going to run, you should work the muscles like they need to be worked.”
She groaned and did the squats and lunges. Cain whistled and Breeze came running. “Let’s go,” he said.
“What?” The blood drained from her face. “I can’t run with you. You’re like the Terminator.”
This time he did chuckle. “I’ll go at your pace and give you some pointers. If it gets too much, walk, but don’t stop.”
She blew her breath upward, and the bang that consistently found a place over her eye fluttered. “Okay.”
They made it to the trail cutting through the forest, surrounding his property. Good effort, but her breathing was coming too fast.
“Walk,” he commanded.
“This isn’t very much of a work out for you.”
He strolled beside her with a gait like a panther. Fit and sleek, he didn’t have a slender runner’s body, he had weight and muscle.
“Usually Breeze and I do ten kilometers a day.”
“Ten?” Her eyes bugged out. “Think I’ll be lucky if I make it to that tree down there.”
“Run,” he commanded.
Her breathing had slowed, and she put it into a trot. “You should run a marathon,” she said. “You’d probably win.”
“I don’t run to prove anything. I set my own benchmarks.” He turned and jogged, facing her. “You’re breathing is too shallow.”
“Gasping is all I got,” she huffed out.
He placed his palm on his abs. “Breathe from the stomach. Running is one hundred percent mental as well. Concentrate and control your air.”
Running on the treadmill at the gym seemed easier. Her legs weighed a ton. They walked, then they ran. After repeating the process three times, she figured out he was pacing her with a formula. “This isn’t random, is it? The stopping and starting.”
He shot a look across his shoulder. “There’s a ratio.”
At kilometer two, she stopped and bent over. Her eyesight was fuzzy, her lungs burned, and she wasn’t sure she even had legs anymore. A warm hand palmed her back.
“You’re doing really well, Mika.” He curled his hands over her shoulders, urging her to straighten.
“Maybe this running thing isn’t for me,” she said, gulping air.
“It gets easier, and I expect you to run every day while I’m gone.”
She took a step, but it was really a trip and a stagger. “I forgot you’re leaving.”
He nodded. “Let’s take a shortcut.” He headed through the trees, and she followed, hoping a big lake had formed somewhere in the woods, so she could do a face plant like a Kool-Aid plunge.
They emerged near her cottage.
“Thank, blessed God.” Breeze ran ahead of them, toward the main house. “Where’s she going?”
“Her water bowl,” he said, slowing to a walk.
“Think I’ll join her.” That’s it, she was dead. The grass was green and cool. She dropped to her knees and rolled onto her back, doing a starfish imitation. Looking up into the blue sky, the sun beat down on her.
“Waiting for a migratory flock of Canada Geese?” he asked.
“Aww, nice,” she drawled.
Cain sat down and crooked one knee with his arm. She closed her eyes, taking in deep gulps of sea air. She felt a drip first, and then a big, wet doggy kiss landed on her face.
When she squealed and lunged for Breeze, the dog jumped back and started to gallop like a puppy. She laughed at her antics. “How old is Breeze?”
“She’s three,” he said, throwing an arm around Breeze when she got her frisky under control and laid down beside him. “I brought her up here from the States.”
“Is that where you lived before?” she asked.
“For a while.” Cain stared off toward the tree line. “If you can walk, I’ll show you where her food is.”
That was a quick subject change. She rolled onto her knees and pushed herself up, thanking the heavens for the deep bathtub that awaited her in the cottage.
Cain stopped at his back door. “The code is five, eight, seven, eight,” he said, pushing the buttons. “There’s an alarm system in the house, but once you use the code, it won’t go off unless you set it from the inside panel.”
“Pretty straightforward,” she said. They’d entered a back room with a line of closets. Dark, louvered doors offered plenty of storage space. Arches made of thick beams segregated the glass ceiling. If this was the mud room, she could imagine what the rest looked like.
Cain opened the first closet. “Her food is in here.” After filling a small pail, he walked down the hallway into the kitchen, a big, open, austere kitchen. The honey-colored wood cabinets weren’t enough to warm the cold chrome accents. Elegant, but maybe too much so. A massive hood sat over an eight-burner gas stove. He had two ovens, two fridges, two sinks and a wine cooling unit. Everything sparkled as if no one used them.
“Where’s the French maid with the mini skirt?”
“Her bowls...” Cain paused, the comment obviously catching wind, and he raised a brow at her.
She shrugged good-naturedly.
“I keep her bowls over here,” he said and filled one.
A spacious great room adjoined the kitchen. Expensive dark furnishings anchored the seating area in the center and a large stone fireplace rose up the wall. She panned a look around. “It’s very...magazine-worthy.”
He tilted his head at her. “You don’t like it?”
“No,” she spurted. “It’s ah, pristine.”
He chuckled. “Is that another way of saying cold and empty?”
“Err, maybe.” She had a problem lying, so she became a master at avoidance until someone cornered her.
A grin crossed his features, and her heart skipped with an uneven beat. He drew out two glasses and filled them with ice and water, passing her one. She chugged it in three swallows. Before she could set it down, he took it and filled it up again.
“Drink plenty of this tonight to replenish what you lost.”
“Think I’ll do that through osmosis via a long soak in the bathtub.”
His firm lips parted. He hesitated, but finished by saying, “You can use the Jacuzzi if you want.”
“Thanks, but no. I don’t do those.”
His brows shot together. “Why not? I have it cleaned regularly.”
“Oh, no,” she spouted. “That’s not what I mean.” And she wasn’t going to tell him what she meant either. A slip of the tongue. People with her disorder didn’t do well in those things. All the chemicals played havoc with her skin. “My bath is good enough, but thank you for the offer.” She quickly looked for a diversion, and her eyes fell on the grand piano in the corner. Not a speck of dust, nor a fingerprint marred its polished perfection. “Do you play the piano?”
Cain leaned against the counter. The glass hovered at his lips. He lowered it slowly. “Used to.”
“I always wanted to play, but I never got around to it. It’s a beautiful piano.”
He nodded vaguely, his gaze turning inward. Then he downed the water. “I’ll be leaving early in the morning.”
“Should I have your phone number in case something happens you need to know about?”
He hesitated again. “Sure.” He scribbled it down on a pad of paper he snagged from an end table in the living room. “That’s my personal number. Not my...business number.”
“Okay.” Would it make a difference? “I’m sure I won’t need to call.”
“I may not have cell service where I am. Leave a message. I’ll check when I can.”
“You hitchin’ a dog team and doing the Iditarod?”
He shook his head and laughed. “No.”
“Well, thanks for the pointers and have a good trip.”
He led her to the front door. Cain grabbed Breeze’s collar. “See you in seven days.” He paused. “And, ah, think about getting some better running shoes and new running clothes. They wick away the moisture.”
She gave Breeze a scratch on her chest getting a happy thump of her front paw on the floor. “I’ll see how expensive it is, but I’ll check it out.”
“And...um...you might want to buy a good running bra.” Her eyes popped open with surprise. “See ya.” And he closed the door.
She instinctively palmed both boobs. What the hell did that mean? She looked down and then around. Were her boobs too big? Is that what he was implying? Shit, what a coarse, broody, no-filter-on-the-mouth kind of guy was he, anyway? She paused in front of his enormous windows, forgetting her breasts were still cupped in her hands.
Maybe he was chucking shit at her over her comment about his house? If that was the case, he had a sense of humor after all. One he hid for some reason. She could lob one-liners with the best of them. A skill she perfected to cover up her other fault.
Movement caught her eye. She turned on her heel just in time to catch Cain scrubbing his chin with a slow hand, hiding a huge smile as he moved out of her view. She dropped her hands instantly, realizing what she must look like supporting the sisters.
Oh yeah, next time her tongue would show no mercy.
****
At ten after nine, Cain walked to the window, and then the front door. He whistled. Breeze had gone for her nightly mission, but she didn’t come for his call. He rolled his eyes, knowing where she must be. He slipped his shoes on and jogged over to the cottage. A dim light shone from the living room. He didn’t see anyone through the open door, then knocked.
No answer.
Pulling on the screen, he entered. “Mika?” Maybe she was in the bathroom. “Hello?” he called out, walking down the hallway. A light shone from the end of the hallway. He felt a little weird just sauntering into her space. Probably a huge blunder in the Landlord-Tenant Act, but....Reaching the end of the hall, he stuck his head in the door.
His heartbeat hitched a little. Mika was fast asleep, her bedside light illuminating her peaceful features. The sheets were all twisted up around her legs, and her arm draped over Breeze. What a sight. Breeze’s ears twitched.
“Stay, girl.”
He motioned with his hand. Breeze sighed heavily and laid her head down on the pillow. He backed out quietly. About to switch the living room light off, he paused. The chaos of boxes had been unpacked. Her essence along with her belongings made the cottage a quaint, comfortable home.
With Breeze beside her, Cain didn’t have to worry, but he still wished he had an extra key to lock up when he closed the front door. Dogs had a keen sense. Maybe Breeze sensed a need to stay close. Mika seemed anything but needy, with her fiery personality and razor-sharp tongue. She definitely didn’t have a boyfriend.
He wondered whether or not someone would show up when she moved in, but the moving party proved to him, aside from her loose girlfriend Jennifer, Mika was the odd woman out. The rest of her gal pals had their mates. He didn’t really understand it. Mika had a great sense of humor. Maybe she was fussy, but nothing about her rang any alarm bells. Last night, her quick wit had the guys laughing at her jokes when she poked fun at them.
He opened the door to his house and turfed his shoes. Compared to the cottage, his place did seem cold. She’d teased him this afternoon. His home didn’t appeal to her, but every time she stared at the cottage, her eyes sparkled. A seven million dollar home, and she preferred the little rustic cottage with whitewashed siding and gingerbread shingles. He caught himself smiling again and shook his head.
It was time to finish packing. He’d be on the seven o’clock plane out of Victoria. A change in Vancouver, a one-night stopover to visit his brother in LA, then continue on to meet his client in Fiji. As he zipped up his suit carrier, he paused with the overwhelming urge to unzip it and cancel. His reputation made him a wealthy man. Cancelling was out of the question.
Warmth ebbed from his heart. This is where he’d leave it, until he returned. The sound of the zipper sliding closed broke the silence, but not the chill of a stone-cold soul.
