TAKE A CHANCE ON ME – stand-alone novella, Mirabelle Harbor, Book 1 – Chance & Nia’s story
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Ebook & Print
July 18, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-9961178-3-8 (paperback)
“Nia?” I extended my hand to her because I was a professional and that was what we did when we met a new client. It didn’t have anything to do with my desire to touch her. Much.
She looked at me oddly. Hesitant. Like she was afraid I’d try to out muscle her or something. So I added a slight smile.
If anything, she looked even more worried then, but she finally took my hand and shook it.
God, her skin was so soft.
“Chance.” She stated my name rather than asked. How insane was it that I was proud of this? That she knew who I was already? Then I looked down and realized I was wearing my trainer nametag.
“Yes,” I said. “Nice to meet you.” This was such a freakin’ understatement it was almost a lie. I was usually only attracted to very athletic women, but Nia Pappayiannis had a different style and body type than the typical crowd of single twenty-something ladies I ran into at the gym. She was all softness and curves, dressed in her very conservative white t-shirt and blue yoga pants. Other women wouldn’t look hot in such a plain outfit. Nia rocked the look.
“Likewise,” she said.
A long, awkward silence followed. I wasn’t used to that either. Most of my clients talked my ear off from the second of introduction on. Not her.
I cleared my throat and flashed the clipboard I was holding at her. “On your questionnaire, you mentioned that your doctor prescribed at least ten half-hour fitness sessions, three per week, to work on core strength. Correct?”
“Okay.” I pointed toward the treadmill. “Why don’t we do an easy five-minute walking warm up, just to get your muscles moving, before we head over to the weights?”
I helped her set the treadmill to a moderate walking speed of 3.3 miles/hour and showed her how to adjust the incline. It looked as though she’d never stepped on one of these pieces of equipment in her life.
“Have you belonged to a gym before?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It’s not really my scene.”
I was suddenly very interested to know what was her scene, but I didn’t make a habit of asking clients personal questions, and I wasn’t gonna start now. No matter how sexy her ass looked as she walked on that treadmill.
Man, five minutes lasted a long time. An eternity of unexpected fantasizing.
Soundtrack of the Story:
Crazy for this Girl~Evan and Jaron
Sexual Healing~Marvin Gaye
Kiss Me~Ed Sheeran
Let Love In~The Goo Goo Dolls
Take My Breath Away~Berlin
Human Nature~Michael Jackson
I’ll Be~Edwin McCain