Running Interference (7 page)

He really did have great lips. Pale pink. Almost blush. And so soft looking. Were they soft? She couldn't remember. It had been too long.

“Earth to Tanya,” Aunt Grace said.

Her eyes locked with Cam's a split-second before she faced her aunt.
Shit
.

“What can I get you to drink, honey?”

“Water.” She fidgeted.
Get a freaking grip.

“Coming right up.”

“This place hasn't changed,” Cam said. “It's awesome.” He twisted in the booth until she was looking at the back of his perfectly shaped head. “'Member how we used come in after school for chili in the winter? We'd sit at the bar right there like big dawgs, drinking root beer out of brown bottles like it was legit.”

Jillian laughed.

He twisted back around and settled his eyes on Tanya.

“I remember,” she said, sounding a little more nostalgic than she wanted to. Maybe it was time to remind herself how badly it hurt to be abandoned by him. That would be infinitely wiser than letting all the good memories confuse the hell out of her. She had to face it; if he really loved this place, then how could he have stayed away so long?

Anger bubbled beneath her pleasant surface, and she welcomed it.

“I didn't ask you to meet with me tonight so that we can reminisce,” she said. Her tone must've been severe, because even MJ looked surprised. She dialed it back with an extra-wide smile. “Cam, you said you'd help with the gym. I need your help.”

He sort of froze for a second, smile intact, but then it was like her words sunk in, and the smile twisted into a half-smirk that seemed to be saying, “Finally everything makes sense.”

He laughed. “I knew you were setting me up for something. I should've known it was something like this. I'll have the money wired to you tomorrow.”

“No,” she said. “That's not what I need.”

He straightened, and his eyes narrowed just a smidge. “What do you need, T-bird?”

That name. Hearing it on his lips again had the oddest effect. It sort of rebooted her brain, and she had to take a few seconds to refocus.

“Well, you're famous. I've seen the way people flock to you. I figure people will pay just about anything to spend time with you at the gym. My plan is to charge a one-hundred-fifty-dollar initiation fee to new members, which would get them the opportunity to work out with a Super Bowl MVP—you—while you're home for the off-season. After that, it'll be fifty dollars a month for the next two months, which will fulfill their three-month contract. That means each new member will bring in two hundred dollars over the next ninety days, so we'll only need to sell one-hundred and fifty new memberships. Seems doable, right? As long as you're willing to help.”

“Sounds like an awesome plan,” Jillian said. “I love this idea.”

“It sounds reasonable,” MJ said.

But she hadn't taken her eyes off Cam who was staring back at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Sounds like you want to exploit me,” he said.

Technically, yes. But it was for a good cause.

“And for only one hundred dollars.” He raised his brows. “I'm worth way more than that.”

“It's not about how much you're worth,” MJ said. “It's about how much people in a low-income neighborhood can pay.”

“I'm low-income, and I'd pay it,” Jillian said. “It's a sweet deal.”

Tanya gave her a nudge with her elbow. “You get in free.”

“Can the gym even handle one-hundred-fifty extra people working out at one time?” Cam asked. “It seems too small to me. Not enough equipment. Two people in the ring at a time. Three exercise bikes. Some free weights and punching bags. What's everyone else going to do, wait in line?”

So much for her big idea. Tanya frowned.

“Good point,” MJ said. “There's probably an occupancy limit for fire code.”

“I'll have to ask my dad,” Tanya said.

“They won't all be working out at the same time, though,” Jillian said.

“They will be if you use me as bait.” Cam strummed his fingers on the table top. “People will want to know when I'll be there so they can be there too. That's what you're selling, isn't it?”

Tanya refused to be thwarted. “So we stagger workout times. Maybe sell a.m. and p.m. memberships to keep the numbers down.”

“Which means I have to be there all day.” Cam shook his head. “It may be my off-season, but I have to work out at some point, too. I can't work out properly with people hanging around wanting to talk and waiting for autographs. Besides, I have family I want to see.”

Ugh.
Tanya propped her chin on the back of her hand and exhaled. This was a terrible idea.

Silence lingered. She could almost hear the grinding of brain gears. Maybe all together they could come up with something legitimate.

Cam leaned forward and wrapped a hand around her wrist. Time stilled. Her skin heated beneath his, and the warmth spread up her arm until it settled in her chest.
Ooh
, she liked that. He traced the outside curve of her hand with his thumb. And
that.
The calming effect. The reassurance. The little buzz that felt a lot like he was turning her on.

Amazing. Alarming. These feelings shouldn't mix with the anger she still felt.

“Don't you think it would be a heck of a lot easier if you just figured out a way to get him to take the thirty grand from me?”

She pulled her hand away and straightened. “I don't want to talk about this again. He's adamant about not borrowing any more money he can't pay back.”

“He won't have to pay it back. It's a gift.”

She shook her head, scattering the last bits of pleasure. “How many times do I have to say this? He's too proud to accept a handout. He's the one who fixes things, not the one who needs to be fixed.”

Cam rubbed a hand over his mouth in apparent frustration. Maybe he had a right to be. Was it irrational not to push her father to accept such a generous offer? But she wouldn't want to be pushed either. There had to be another way.

Aunt Grace returned with their drinks and took their food orders, but Tanya had lost her appetite. She was too fixated on alternate plans. How could she leverage the restaurant? What about a charity boxing match? Were either of those ideas worth thirty grand?

“Let's do some research on occupancy code,” MJ said. “Then we can at least have a benchmark for a membership drive. Whether we blatantly use Cam as bait or not, we can capitalize on the word-of-mouth that's already bringing people into the gym. Might as well make some money while we can.”

Tanya nodded. “I'll keep thinking of other options, too.” Ones that didn't involve Cam, because he was already too involved in her life. It was time to go back to friendly but guarded.

He lifted his beer and smiled before closing his lips over the rim. She smiled back, and pushed aside the voice in her head that told her taking his thirty grand would be a lot less hassle than this—watching him lick perfectly plump, pale pink lips.

Her hot flashes were back. Only they skipped their usual haunts and zeroed in on the tingly spot between her legs.

Friendly but guarded seemed doomed.

She looked away—anywhere but his lips—and tried to think of how to close Pandora's Box now that she'd opened it. Dwelling on all the reasons she was angry at him didn't seem to work. Keeping her distance didn't work either. Not when he kept popping up everywhere. This was insane, like knowing eating a half gallon of ice cream was bad for you but doing it anyway. She did that sometimes. And then she was so damn sick she swore off ice cream for months.

There was an idea. She ran her finger down the condensation on her water glass. Could she just eat
him
and get it over with?

And then there were two.

MJ and Jillian said their goodbyes and headed down to the gym to make their sparring time, leaving Cam alone with Tanya.

He pulled on his chin. All that flirting and the random invitation to meet after she'd thrown him some serious shade that first day at the gym? He should've known it wasn't about him except for what he could do for her father. She was upset about what was happening at the gym, but she was making the solution harder than it had to be. All this talk about pride and not taking his money. Was that really to protect her father's ego, or was it to protect hers? He didn't know. But ulterior motive or not, the sparks between them generated real heat.

“You sure I can't get you anything else?” Grace asked as she gathered up his empty plate.

“We're good,” Tanya said. “I need to get to the gym, too.”

He reached into his pocket, retrieved his AmEx, and held it out for Grace. “I got this.”

Tanya swatted at his hand. “Put it away.”

“I got this,” he repeated, giving her a good, hard stare. Unlike the thirty grand, which was an awful lot of money to most people, refusing his offer to pay a forty-five dollar tab was too much melodrama for him to allow.

“Your money is no good here,” Grace said.

Yeah, he was getting that message loud and clear. “Then I'm going to stuff forty-five bills in the tip jar when you aren't looking.”

Instead of arguing, Grace chuckled and smacked a kiss on his cheek. “So good to have you back! Now you two get outta here.”

True to his word, when she disappeared behind the swinging doors, he jammed a roll of cash into the tip jar on the bar.

“That was more than forty-five dollars,” Tanya said.

He shushed her and hurried out of the restaurant before Grace could force him to take it back. Tanya came by her tenacity honestly.

The parking lot was barely lit and mostly empty. The winter wind whipped around him. “Am I still invited to the gym tonight or are you done with me?”

He liked the way her eyes widened at his question. “No, it would probably be good PR if you popped in again.”

Right. He looked at his SUV glistening in the moonlight, and then down the block toward the gym. If he suggested they drive, she would probably insult his manhood, so he zipped up his jacket and huddled into the collar as he walked.

“You know, that was sweet,” she said.

He glanced at her, and beneath the streetlights her smile seemed to glow. She'd been pretty in high school, but now she was beautiful—the kind of beauty that made a man study and stare. “What was sweet?”

“Leaving that money in the tip jar. Aunt Grace will get a kick out of finding it.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “So my money is good here after all.”

“In certain situations, yes.”

“But not when it matters most—to save your dad's gym.”

She crossed her arms and wrinkled her face. “Even if I could get him to take the money, thirty grand comes with a lot of strings.”

“Then you take the money and give it to your dad. I don't care what you tell him about where you got it, and I don't want a penny back. Where are the strings?”

Her face had a hard edge, but it didn't lose its beauty. “No matter what I tell my dad,
I'll
know where the money came from. That's a string.”

“Between you and me?”

She nodded.

He stopped, and when she realized he was no longer beside her, she stopped too.

She looked at him over her shoulder at first, and then she turned completely. “What?”

He stepped closer. “Why is it bad to have strings between us?”

When she didn't answer immediately, he stepped closer again. Just a test. Because now that the reason for her flirting had been revealed, there was no reason for her to humor him … unless she felt the heat too.

She didn't step back or turn around and walk away. Instead, her features softened, and her gaze darted from his eyes to his lips.

His skin tightened on the encouragement.
Kiss her
, said the voice in his head.
Get it over with.
If she kissed him back, he'd have his answer once and for all.

“Strings strangle people!” The words exploded off her lips, and her hands popped him in the chest.

Surprised as he was, he stood strong.

“The money my dad borrowed to help my mom? That's a string, and look what's happening now. It's strangling my dad.” Her voice shook. Her eyes darted all around. “My brother Tyler and his soon-to-be ex-wife? They have a kid, and as much as I love that kid, he's a string between his parents. That one sting is strangling two people, Tyler and Marissa.”

It was like some warped pep talk. The longer she went the more convinced she sounded.

She threw up her hands. “You know what happens to strangled people? They end up dead.” She seemed to catch herself, giving her head a shake, scattering her curls. “Figuratively speaking. My point is, who wants to live that way? Not me!”

Wow. He didn't know what to say. Since her parents' divorce she'd been a little negative toward relationships, but her cynicism had sunk to a whole new warped level. Someone had hurt her. She'd always been so strong. The idea of her crying over some asshole who hadn't appreciated her stirred his anger.

He reached out and held onto her shoulder. “None of that applies to us. We aren't married.” That seemed to sink in a bit—enough for her to look at him. He smiled. “We're just friends. Giving you thirty grand isn't going to strangle either one of us.”

But his charm attack didn't have the desired effect. Her face twisted as she made a noise of frustration. “That's not the point.”

God, he was so damn confused. “Then what
is
the point?”

She growled. “You can't sweep into town after five years of no contact and do shit like this!”

Shit like what? What was he doing?

She smacked his hand away.

Then it made sense. “So this isn't about your dad's gym. This is about you and me.”