Not My Type (6 page)

"Are you seducing me, future Mrs.
Malone?"

"Do I have to seduce you, Mr.
Malone?"

"Hell, no. I'll race you."

She beat him to the bedroom, but only
because he liked the view from behind.

Chapter Seven: Work It
Out

Elsa was awakened the next morning by
a tickling sensation on the backs of her legs and ass. She squirmed
to get away from it, but the feeling persisted. She finally groaned
and rolled onto her back, only to open her eyes and see intense
brown ones staring back at her. She closed hers quickly, then
squinted one eye up at Joe hovering over her. "Didn't get enough
last night, big guy?"

"Never enough with you," he breathed.
Her heart started racing and that familiar but welcome ache spread
through her body. Though she badly needed a shower and to brush her
teeth, she reached up and touched his face with her fingers,
tracing his strong jaw line and running her thumb across his full
sensuous lips before they descended upon hers. He threaded his
hands through her hair and settled over the top of her, holding her
effectively in place while his tongue ravaged her mouth. She felt
the force of his need between her legs, and his usually gentle kiss
was bruising. She sensed something was wrong but opened to him,
hoping to assuage whatever was bothering him. She knew she was in
for rough treatment when he jammed himself inside of her without
any foreplay or warning, her flesh tearing slightly as he buried
himself to the hilt. She gasped into his mouth and his fingers
tightened in her hair. Rising above her, he pulled himself out and
crashed back in hard; her hands came up to force him back some, to
ease the pressure, but he pulled his hands from her hair and
grabbed her wrists, forcing them to the mattress while he continued
his pummeling. She gave up struggling and gave herself over to him.
"Mine," he growled above her, his breath coming in harsh
bursts.

"Yes," she whispered but Joe didn't
hear her. He was intent on his task, bruising her thighs with the
force of his lust. She stayed with him, not crying out until an
unexpected orgasm burst over her. She arched her back against him
and he finally stopped pounding her, pouring his own orgasm into
her body, his own back arched as he came. He lay heavily on her for
long moments, exhausted by emotion rather than effort. He released
her hands and she traced endless patterns on his strong back with
her fingers, feeling the ridges of muscle and the pearls of his
spine, loving him and his body with all of her being. She finally
whispered in his ear. "What was that about?"

He rolled off of her onto his back and
covered his eyes with one arm, pulling her to his side with the
other. His voice was quiet and raspy. "Did I hurt you?"

"No matter what, Joe Malone, you never
hurt me even when you're being rough. It's like you always know, on
some level, how much I can take."

"I shouldn't have been that out of
control, though."

"So what happened? What's going on?
Talk to me."

"Had a bad dream."

"You were punishing me for a dream you
had?"

"Not punishing, just lost control. I'm
sorry, babe. Do you forgive me?"

"Make me come like that again and
we'll talk about it."

He grinned under the cover of his arm.
She was so completely the woman for him. "I dreamed that you lost
all the weight and left me," he confessed.

She snorted. "Is that why you like me
heavy?"

He looked at her finally, eyes glowing
with the sincerity of his emotions. "No, I like you. Period. No
matter what size you are. I do like you curvy, as you are now, but
I know that's going to change."

"Does that mean...you won't like me as
much?" she voiced her fear.

He gathered her in his arms, her head
resting on his massive chest. "You never have to worry about that,
sweetheart. I like you--I love you--and that ain't gonna
change."

"I worry about you leaving me all the
time because of how big I am. And here you are worrying that I'm
going to leave you if I'm small. What a pair of insecure babies we
are."

He laughed. "I never considered myself
insecure until you got sick. Now I'm worrying about everything,
even things I never worried about before."

"Well stop it! I'll never leave
you."

"I'll never leave you,
either."

"Then no more bad dreams. But more
rough sex is always welcome."

He squeezed her and tickled her until
she screamed she was going to pee if he didn't let her go. He
extracted a promise of more rough housing later and let her skip
off to the shower. He lay back on the bed with his arms behind his
head, thinking about what he'd done and their subsequent
conversation. What the hell was wrong with him? He knew they had a
great sex life. Why would he jeopardize that because of a bad
dream? True, he'd dreamt she cheated on him-a detail he'd omitted-
but that was never something Joe had worried about before. When he
awoke from the dream, he had felt it necessary to mark her somehow,
to claim her as his own. Might as well have pissed on her feet, he
thought ruefully. He pushed the dream and all the doubts from his
mind and joined his future bride in the shower. It would all work
out in the end, he was sure.

After a prolonged shower in which Joe
proved he could once again be a considerate and gentle lover, they
discussed what to do with their day. She was not expected at the
restaurant until later, but would go in early to talk to Allen and
Marybeth, the owners, about her new situation and what it meant for
her as a chef at their business. She was sure they would be
supportive, she told Joe; Allen and Marybeth Rhoades were like
extra parents--or grandparents, given their ages of sixty one and
sixty-eight-- to Elsa and allowed her free reign in the kitchen
since shortly before she'd started there as a sous chef, promoting
her quickly to head chef and allowing Allen to retire from the
kitchen. The two of them were usually there at the beginning of her
shift but left before the dinner crowd came in, sometimes having a
private, romantic dinner before leaving.

Joe was not expected back at the gym
until the next day, though he did call Jordan and let him know,
confidentially, that Elsa was going to be fine and filling him in
briefly on the details. Joe knew that Jordan would discreetly let
the others know in their group of friends so that Elsa wouldn't
have to explain it and be embarrassed.

"We could go down to the beach," Elsa
suggested. "Though it is kind of cold right now."

"How about we work on the exercise
portion of our new lifestyle?"

"Didn't we just do that?
Twice?"

"While that was an excellent workout,
and one I can't wait to do with you again, it doesn't really count
I'm afraid."

She sighed. Might as well get started
since there was no way out of it. Elsa hated to work out; she
always felt fatter than when she started. It was one area of their
lives that never overlapped before now. But she knew Joe was
somewhat excited about this part of the big change. Exercise was
his life, aside from her, and it showed in his fine physique. If
anyone could help her get her health back on track, it was
Joe.

"Okay baby, work me out."

Joe grinned. "We'll go slow at first,
don't worry. I have a regular routine I made up for people who come
to the gym expressly to lose weight. "

"Do you get people in there who have
diabetes also?"

"Yep. They come in because the doc
said they need to get their weight under control, just like he told
us yesterday. I always thought your weight was fine as long as you
were healthy, and it's your health I'm concerned with now. But
don't worry. I've got this."

She smiled at his enthusiasm. "I know
you do. What's first?"

They headed out to the garage, where
Joe had a miniature gym set up for home use. The Rover always spent
its time in the driveway because Joe had converted this space long
before he owned ToneUp. Though he didn't use it as much now that he
had his own gym, it was still a place he could work out on his days
off, like today. When he missed too many days of working out, he
felt anxious, which might explain his bad dream and
uncharacteristic worrying, he realized. While Elsa sweated it out
on the treadmill, he worked on his arms, being careful with the
free weights without a spotter.

After what seemed to Elsa like a
torturous half hour of high speed walking, her legs felt like
jelly. She begged to sit for a few minutes before being forced
through anymore torture, but Joe said that was it for the day,
anyway, so she could go inside if she wanted. "That's it? No
weights or balance ball or torture rack?"

"Gotta start slow, babe. And we'll
alternate cardio with weights so you can gain muscle while burning
fat. Trust me: I know what I'm doing. Since your body isn't used to
it, we're starting very slowly. I don't want you to get
hurt."

"Thanks tall, dark, and godlike. You
are the best fiancé a girl could have." She planted a smacking kiss
on his lips.

He was pleased by her praise but
responded with, "Wait until we do squats and lunges tomorrow and
see if you still think that."

She laughed, a beautiful
sound to Joe's ears, as she went back inside to make lunch. Joe
switched to the boxing bag in the corner, thinking to
himself,
Maybe
this is going to be easier than I thought
.

Chapter Eight: The
Grind

Over the next couple of weeks, Elsa
saw few results of her new diet and exercise plan. True, her blood
sugar was lowered, though still not where it should be. Dr. Edwards
advised an anxious Joe that it might take several months to be
completely normal, and longer for Elsa to be off the Metformin once
her diet and weight were under control. She worked out in the
garage before lunch with Joe, took Spike for walks after lunch, and
made sure she stuck to a strict diet of protein and whole
grains.

There were many days where she felt
down, internally raging against the injustice of it all. She had a
meltdown one afternoon at the restaurant where she couldn't handle
the pressure of cooking food she couldn't eat. She'd spoken to
Allen and Marybeth about the new changes in her lifestyle, and they
were as fully supportive as she'd expected. But she'd told them she
wouldn't have to change the menu, that she could keep cooking the
rich foods she always had. She saw them exchange a glance but they
agreed she could cook whatever she wanted. "Whatever you need to do
Elsa," Allen's voice crackled with age. "We want you to be happy
here, sweetie," Marybeth added. "You can change the menu if you
need to or leave it how it is if that's what you want."

The night her meltdown happened, it
was the cheesecake that did her in. The smell of it was enough to
make her eyes water with desire to eat it, but her blood sugar was
still not in enough control to warrant cheating on her diet even a
little. She finally locked herself in the bathroom, sobbing over
food, feeling pathetic and fat and unworthy. Annette and Jessica
tried consoling her through the locked bathroom door, to no
avail.

That was where Joe found her when he
came to pick her up. Annette and Jessica gave him sympathetic
glances while he spoke to her through the bathroom door. "Elsa?
Honey? What's going on? Talk to me baby."

"I'm just being stupid. I'll be out in
a minute."

"You're not stupid. I'm right here
when you're ready."

She emerged a few minutes later, the
cold water she splashed on her face unable to eliminate the redness
of her eyes. His heart seized up with pain for her pain, and he
opened his arms to enfold her in his safe embrace. "Oh sweetheart,
I'm sorry. I know it's hard..."

She pushed away from him. "You don't
know! You have no idea how hard this is."

He frowned. "I have some idea. I'm
watching you go through it and it doesn't look easy. But I'm here
for you. You can lean on me, babe."

"You have been perfect your whole
life. I have been killing myself for weeks and not only am I still
fat, but I still have high blood sugar, AND I can't eat any fucking
thing I want like you can!"

"Slow down," he put up a hand. "First
of all, I work hard to be fit and it has taken me years to get
where I am. Second, this isn't going to happen over night,
Else."

"Don't call me Else. And don't tell me
how it's going to take years to become as perfect as you are; I'll
never be skinny, or perfect, or have everything you have." Her
voice rose as she poured out her emotions.

"Why the fuck are you yelling at me
for? I'm not the one who made you sick, Elsa, so don't put your
anger at the situation on me."

They were faced off in front of the
bathroom door, each of them scowling at the other, while Annette
and Jessica stood in the kitchen listening, wide eyed. They'd never
heard Joe and Elsa argue before. It was unsettling to say the
least. One thing was for sure: Elsa was definitely not afraid of
Joe. Most guys would balk at getting in Joe's face but Elsa was
right there, poking her finger in the big man's chest and glaring
daggers at him for something he didn't even do. They marveled at
her bravery, and his patience. But Elsa knew Joe would never hurt
her and she was pissed. Part of her knew she was taking out her
frustrations unfairly but the irrational part of her was too far
gone to care.