The Beauty Within (9 page)

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Authors: Savannah J. Frierson

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BOOK: The Beauty Within
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out for her. Of course, it had been awkward because Damon had gone with her

to the appointment, and the doctor had thought he was her boyfriend, but she

couldn’t forget the irony of the prescription now.

“You are so tight,” Gunnar said, though it was more to himself than to her

she imagined. Tyler stood straighter but didn’t move away from him. “Better?”

“Much, thanks,” Tyler admitted.

“Took classes in LA. Well, they weren’t official ones, but the trainer for the

team gave us some pointers—partly to keep ourselves safe during the off-

season, and because he found it won over the ladies!”

“I’m sure it did,” Tyler said absently, unable to stop herself from leaning

more into his hands.

His mouth dropped to her ear. “Is it winning you over?”

“Hmm…”

Her noncommittal answer seemed not to bother him. In fact, he turned her

in his arms and brought her flush against him. She tried to ignore the way her

curves melded into his hard, muscular planes, or the fact his hands and fingers

hadn’t stopped their tasks. He looked at her with a mild expression, and after a

48

Savannah J. Frierson

moment’s hesitation, she rested her hands on his forearms, for it was uncom-

fortable to have them suspended in air.

Gunnar grinned slightly. “I know…you said you would never come into my

gym again, and since it seemed to intimidate you when you first went, I don’t

blame you. However, you’re a young woman, and you seem healthy irrespective

of your back pain and…”

He trailed off, but Tyler nodded, not needing him to explain that he was

referring to her weight. “I got you.”

“Well, in my completely bumbled way, I’m trying to ask if you wouldn’t

mind me helping you, training you. I can make house calls, that way you don’t

have to worry about strangers watching you or feeling self-conscious.”

Her hands squeezed his forearms and he stopped his massage. What did he

just ask her?

“I’m offering to train you. Discount even, since you give such fantastic hair-

cuts.”

Tyler would’ve stepped back had his hands not tightened against her. His

offer wasn’t bad. In fact, it was very fair and equitable, but the strangers hadn’t

been the ones who had made her feel the most self-conscious.

“I promise I won’t behave like such an ass again. If I’m in a bad mood I’ll

tell you beforehand.”

Tyler sighed, backing up again, and this time Gunnar allowed it. Damon

could easily train her; he’d already offered to make up for the missed session.

The only reason she hadn’t taken him up on it again was because Damon

would be at GD Gym and Fitness, and she’d been dead set in her perception of

Gunnar as a jackass. Since Gunnar had effectively disproved that notion, the

reason why she was resistant now was
because
he was such a good man, and

good men had the uncanny knack of having her assessing them as boyfriend

material. In Gunnar’s case, it would no doubt end fruitlessly. There was no

other way that whatever she was feeling would be reciprocated, yet even Tyler

knew Gunnar had to play nice in order to stay on Damon’s good side. She

hadn’t missed the knowing looks Wendy had given her during the party, but

she firmly refused to let her mind go down that delightful little path.

She pursed her lips. “How much would you charge if I agreed to this?”

“Half-off. I would say for free, but since we’re both businesspeople, I

wouldn’t insult your sensibilities like that.”

Tyler smirked. “Thank you
ever
so much!”

“So…are you game? I can even pick you up and drop you off.”

“Not even Damon offered chauffeur services!”

“I have an ‘in’ with the boss,” Gunnar said and winked. “Besides, you can’t

change your mind if I do.”

“Who says I can’t?”

He leaned forward and tapped her nose with his finger. “You won’t. It’s not

in you to back down from a challenge.”

The Beauty Within

49

She took a deep breath and turned away from him. “Fifteen. Though given

this is your third time, you should know the price by now.”

“Maybe I should open up a tab?”

“This isn’t a bar!”

“And yet,” Gunnar began, taking out a twenty and putting it in her hand.

He closed her fingers over the bill and didn’t let go. “I feel even more intox-

icated leaving here than when I leave there.” And with that, he squeezed her

hand, flashed her a tiny smile, and grabbed his jacket as he left.

Tyler blindly reached for her chair before plopping into it, her body still

thrumming from his smile and touch.

Gunnar glanced at the paper sitting on the passenger’s side of his Jeep be-

fore turning right into a residential street. It was Tyler’s address, and Gunnar

thought he would’ve had to sacrifice his first-born in order to wrest it from

Damon. True, he could’ve called Soul Cuts and gotten the directions from her,

but Damon was
there
and…

Fine. He was shy. Gunnar Daniels was too shy to call a woman.

It had already been long established Tyler Carver wasn’t just any woman,

however. His usual methods would fall flat with her. Pretty words were

doubted, enticing looks scorned. He actually had to be himself completely, and

he was decidedly out of his element with that. Also, he thought he’d played his

hand too early with his parting confession. Afterwards, he’d hit his head

against the steering wheel at every red light he had on the way to his house in

self-chastisement.

Intoxicated, indeed.

“I better not have a niece or nephew running around in nine months,” Da-

mon had said after he, grudgingly, had passed over Tyler’s home contact

information.

“A baby can’t run at birth,” Gunnar had said absently as he looked over the

address. He had a vague idea of where the street was, and he was already

mapping out the route to get there from his house. “And you haven’t married

Wendy yet!”

“You bein’ smart with me?”

Gunnar had raised an eyebrow. “You bein’ insubordinate with
me
?”

Damon hadn’t been the least bit intimidated, especially since both had

known there was nothing behind the threat. Damon had warned Gunnar if

these training sessions were some big elaborate scheme to get in Tyler’s pants

he might as well put an end to it. The scheme would fail and lead to castration.

“And it wouldn’t be me,” Damon said, a smirk coloring his face. “Their last

name is ‘Carver’ for a reason!”

50

Savannah J. Frierson

His lap twitched as he remembered the caution, and it didn’t help he found

Tyler’s home to boot.

It was a simple one-level brick structure with white shutters framing the

three windows. She had a decent-sized yard, and a pick-up truck was in the

driveway. That made him smile. Of all the cars he’d imagined her driving, an

old-model Ford F-150 had not been among them.

He pulled his Jeep behind her truck. He wasn’t in a hurry, so he decided to

inspect her vehicle. It was tan, and though it was at least ten years old, it

looked like she took good care of it. The interior was clean, and there was a

new stereo system installed with a CD player.

Somehow, it fit her personality.

Grinning, Gunnar moved away from the truck to the front door. He rang

the rusted rectangular doorbell and waited, the fake flowers on the door a

cheery, feminine touch.

“Who is it?”

“Gunnar.”

Locks tumbled, and a second later Tyler appeared, another large shirt,

sweatpants, and bandana completing her look. “Afternoon. You found the

place okay?”

“Damon gave good directions. You ready to go?”

“I need to grab my water bottle and coat and I’ll be set. You can come in if

you like. I know it’s a little nippy.”

He followed her inside her living room, and the first thing he noted was

how cozy everything seemed to be. Neutral and brown was the color scheme,

from the bran-colored shag carpet to the oaks, mahogany, and cedar furniture

throughout the room. There were wooden African masks on the light yellow

walls as well as abstract African art prints, and there were magazines ranging

from
Essence
to
Sports Illustrated
fanned out on the coffee table. The red microfi-

ber couch he’d stopped behind looked comfortable, as did the matching easy

chair and ottoman opposite it. Though this wasn’t the most opulent living

room he’d ever seen, Gunnar thought it was among the most pleasant.

“All right, I’m ready.”

Tyler came across the room from the kitchen, and Gunnar slipped her bag

from her shoulder and put it on his. “I can take this.”

“Full service. You’re expecting a ginormous tip, aren’t you?”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Gunnar said, glancing at her lips

quickly before turning and leading the way out her home. He needed to get

himself together. He was here to help her, not lust after her! Shaking his head,

he put her bag in the backseat on the passenger’s side, then opened the front

door for her.

“You’re spoiling me,” Tyler teased gently.

“Full service, remember?”

The Beauty Within

51

They smiled at each other, and Gunnar got into the driver’s seat and revved

the engine.

It was a leisurely, quiet drive from her house to his. Tyler looked at the

scenery, as if cataloguing everything on the way. Gunnar guessed that made

sense; he doubted she would want him to pick her up for every session, so she

would need to take heed of the route. Gunnar wanted to speak, but had no idea

what to say to her, so he focused on the road and what he’d planned for her

today. Their main target would be on strength training and light cardio. She

had to build up muscles so she would have a stronger back, therefore less likely

to experience back pain. Besides, he suspected she would never be a slim

woman, her genetics had determined otherwise, but Gunnar didn’t mind that

at all. It was nice to hold a woman he had no fear of breaking.

“You live
here
?!”

Gunnar blushed as he turned into the subdivision. Though there were

gates at the entrance, they were more for show than anything else. Admittedly,

he’d been turned off when his realtor had suggested the community. It was a

few miles outside the city and its personality screamed snooty to him. Howev-

er, he’d fallen in love with the split-level home the realtor had showed him, and

the neighbors were very friendly. Though the neighborhood lent itself more to

families, and Gunnar didn’t have one, a few single people lived here also. Added

to that, it was more racially mixed than many of the other neighborhoods

around; and after years of living in LA, Gunnar found he needed that diversity.

Tyler remained speechless as he pulled into the driveway of his rustic-style

dwelling. It wasn’t the largest house on the street, but it was larger than

Tyler’s quaint home. Gunnar got out the Jeep and opened her door, then

grabbed her bag again. Once the Jeep’s doors were closed and locked, he led the

way into his home.

“It’s…gorgeous,” Tyler said, hovering in the foyer as if afraid to go further.

To her left was a spacious living room, though sparsely furnished and deco-

rated, and farther down the hall there was the beginnings of a kitchen. To her

right there was a door that led to the lower level where the garage, family

room, and laundry were. He’d turned the family room into a small home gym

and added another bathroom so he wouldn’t have to go all the way upstairs to

shower whenever he finished his workouts.

Gunnar shrugged, pleased she liked his home. “Who knew taking pictures

could lead to this, huh?”

“You’re a photographer too?” Tyler said, surprise on her face.

He smirked and shook his head, stepping in front of her to lead her to the

lower level. “Model.”

52

Savannah J. Frierson

Tyler couldn’t focus on anything, not with him smelling like sweat and

masculinity and ocean salt. His breath fanned against her neck as he fixed her

positions during her stretch, and all she wanted to do was lean back against

his hard chest than forward to stretch her hamstring. They had just completed

the workout for the day, and her body burned from exertion. She felt ener-

gized, however, primed, and she wondered if that had more to do with the

workout or the man behind her.

Gunnar had been very patient with her throughout the entire one-hour

session, his voice gentle and his hands competent as they guided her through

the movements on his equipment. He had started her on the treadmill with a

light walk to warm her up, but his constant adjusting of her posture and his

complete attention on her made Tyler temporarily forget how to do such a

simple task. He’d asked if the conveyor speed was too fast, and Tyler had

silently thanked him for offering her an out to explain her clumsiness.

After that they had begun stretches, him in front of her to show her how to

do them properly. Soon after, he’d crawled towards her and began fixing her

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