Work For It Read online

Page 2


  Cam let out a frustrated groan. “Yeah, I’ll text you the details.”

  “Thanks, Cam. I can always count on you.” Dylan ended the call and started throwing stuff into his truck, confident that the condo would be open and ready for his arrival.

  When Cam’s text confirmed it, Dylan headed out of Lower Downtown and onto the interstate with one destination in mind.

  An hour and a half later amidst the quickly falling snow—grateful that he managed to make it before the impending storm set in and he couldn’t get there—Dylan pulled his white truck into the cozy two-bedroom condo community along the Big Thompson River. The radio confirmed on his drive up that the severe storm was set to hit the foothills of Boulder, going high into Rocky Mountain National Park tonight. Which would include Estes Park and every single town and road it took him to get there. With not much weight in the back of his truck, he was more than happy to get off the roads. Especially driving through those curves. Blizzard or not, he was always impressed when he got this close to the mountains. But being surrounded by them made that stress in his chest less…achy.

  The condominium complex was gated and consisted of four brown clusters of units that were staggered so each condo afforded a view of the river as well as the open view from the north of the mountains directly across the street. He parked his truck and hopped out. He inhaled a deep breath of the cold mountain air, letting the bitter cold fill his lungs. He wasn’t at all bothered by the large snowflakes that were coming down faster than they had been twenty minutes ago. He felt good.

  Damn. He couldn’t have thought of a better idea if it bit him in the ass. He grabbed his two duffel bags first and headed to his new pad. Pine Lake. Each condo had their own individual names instead of the standard numbers, and he liked the way Pine Lake held a promise of his new life for the next two weeks. The promise of less stress. The promise of no crazy women stalkers that wanted to do things to his body that made even him blush. Ahh. It held the promise of solitude. And hope. Hope that he could figure out what else he could do with Dirty Gains because athletic wear, gyms, and fitness programs just weren’t enough.

  He tapped in the code that allowed him entry into the condo. Stomping his shoes onto the doormat, he flung the door open and came face to face with a woman wielding a piece of wood over her head.

  “What the hell?” Dylan said, as he stepped back to double-check the condo name.

  Pine Lake.

  “What are you doing?” the woman screamed. Her eyes searched around him and outside like she was expecting an entire home invasion team.

  “I’m Dylan. I’m checking in. Are you the cleaning staff? There’s no need to be hostile.”

  “I’m not the cleaning staff! How’d you get in here?” She held the small piece of log above her head, like at any moment she might whack him with it. “And this isn’t hostile!”

  Dylan widened his eyes. “Can you set the log down, please? I promise, I’m harmless.” His eyes roamed over the little blonde wood-wielding woman. Boy, that was a mouthful. She was kinda cute. What’d he do? Was she the only woman on the planet who didn’t recognize that he was Dylan Truex?

  “No. I’m calling the police. Stay there!” she demanded, but she moved the log in front of her no longer holding it in such a threatening manner.

  “The cops? No way! What the hell for? This is my condo. I just rented it out for the next few weeks. God, I’m not breaking and entering, I promise. Can we discuss this like rational adults? How do you think I knew the code?” He watched her slowly process what he was saying. He couldn’t help but notice her perky little breasts that rose and fell with each intake of breath she took. She was wearing a large, thin sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder that read I was worth the wait and those black skin-tight leggings that all women wore. Wow.

  He gave her his best Dylan Truex smile.

  No reaction.

  She still didn’t recognize him. Her eyes darted around. Where was this woman from? “Please?” he said.

  At that single word, the woman’s shoulders relaxed, and she cocked her head to the side, really studying him for the first time since he’d opened the door. Her eyes traveled over his bulky coat and jeans and then back up to his face. He was annoyed that his winter apparel was covering the finer aspects of his body. But he thought he saw the recognition in her eyes.

  She squinted her eyes, scrutinizing him. “Fine. You look pretty harmless. Who robs a house in the middle of the afternoon anyway? Take your shoes off and come in. We can figure this out like rational adults. Don’t make me regret this.”

  He gave her another famous smile. When she didn’t react, Dylan slid his shoes off and dropped his duffel bags near the door. He figured it was best to get straight to the point because as cute as this stranger was, he needed his two weeks of solace. “So when did you say that you’re checking out? Today?”

  She put her hand to her hip and glanced around the room. That was when he noticed that she had pretty much taken over the entire first floor of the condo. Clothes lay strewn about the familiar brown suede couch. A computer was sitting on the dining table along with a bunch of haphazard papers and pens. A pair of pink and black snow boots lay in the doorway where he stood. A small amount of fruit and empty plastic containers lay strewn about on the kitchen counters.

  She clearly wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

  At least not today.

  Dylan’s stomach twisted around.

  This was not what he was looking forward to. He wanted his alone time.

  “Do I look like I plan on going anywhere?” She read his thoughts. Her hand was still on her hips, her gaze cast on him like he was an intruder.

  Well…

  “No, it doesn’t look like you’re going anywhere right now. I rented this place out,” he said more forcefully. “I have the confirmation number right here.”

  Dylan swiped his phone to bring up Cam’s email. Sure enough, he found the confirmation number and dates that Cam sent him along with the security codes to get through the gates and into Pine Lake.

  “I have a confirmation number too. And dates,” she said curtly.

  She turned around and headed into the living area. Sassy, that one. He had no choice but to follow. He quickly took the room in. Still looked the same. Bookshelves covered the far wall—but were still bookless—and he never understood who would have bookshelves and never put at least one book on display. But he also didn’t understand why they hadn’t used the entire cathedral wall and built the shelves all the way up either. He would have taken the shelves to the top. A fire blazed in the hearth, emitting warmth that made the drive up that much more tolerable. He immediately unzipped his coat, wanting to feel the heat seep into his bones.

  He set his coat on the couch, and she turned back and met him in the center of the room – blocking his path to the fireplace. She held out her phone to him.

  “Here. See. I have another two and a half weeks.” She showed him her messages.

  He read the dates. Shit. How could this happen?

  “I can call the owners. I booked directly with them.” She had the phone to her ear in a nanosecond, and Dylan folded his arms across his chest as he waited. He listened to her phone as it rang and rang into seemingly endless oblivion. Finally, a woman’s voice came on the phone.

  “This is Nancy. If you’ve reached this recording after the morning of January third, then I am officially on vacation. I will try to answer any messages when I am able to and will get back to you if and when I can use my cell phone. Thanks, doll.”

  Thanks, doll?

  “Nancy. This is Lina Armstrong, and I rented one of your condos in Estes Park for four weeks, but there’s a problem. Somehow it got double-booked—” A loud beeping sound cut Lina off. Lina gave her phone the stink eye.

  Well, great. If the condo owner was unavailable, there was clearly no point in texting Cam to ask him what the hell.

  Her name was Lina Armstrong. Why did that ring a bell? It wa
s like a small reminder in the back of his mind. Niggling at him like an errant fly. Lina. Lina. Lina. Lina Armstrong. Like he hadn’t met her—he would have remembered—but knew he’d heard about her.

  “I can’t fucking believe this!” she said as she clutched her phone and shook her fists in the air. “So she’s just gone? She double-booked us and now she’s gone?”

  “Looks like you’re going to have to find another place to stay. So sorry,” Dylan said.

  Lina’s neck straightened and her eyes widened. “Oh, hell no. I’m already here. You can take your little dufflebags and go right back out the door you came in. I paid up front. I’m not ready to leave this place. It’s my happy place.”

  “No. I paid for this place already. I need to be here. I have to be here,” Dylan said with more desperation in his voice than he cared to admit. It was going to become his happy place.

  He started pacing around the room, and as he did, he saw the entire world was turning white before his eyes. Nothing could be identified beyond the small square of white concrete that made up the back patio of the condo. The mountains were gone. There was no street. No river to be seen. The nice wooden chairs that sat facing the river were covered in so much snow that all Dylan could make out were the imprinted lines of where the snow fell through the cracks from the slats. Complete whiteout. He stopped and turned toward Lina, who he still couldn’t believe hadn’t recognized him as Dylan Truex, Fitness King of Dirty Gains. Hadn’t she ever heard of the Work For It fitness program? Hello? Ringing any bells?

  “It’s a whiteout.” She read his thoughts again. “You better get going before you get stuck on the road. Or worse, drive into a ditch or a ravine.”

  Dylan shook his head. “I’m not leaving. There’s no way in hell either one of us can leave at this point. It’s not safe.” Dylan rubbed his hand across his beard. If he had to—which looked likely—he could put up with the hot little blonde for a night or, worst case scenario, two.

  Max.

  Chapter Two

  Who the hell did this guy think he was? Just strolling into her vacation rental like he owned the place. Lina had paid up until her check-out date, and she wasn’t about to give it up to some muscle-bound brawn – who obviously thought he was all that. How many times had he messed with his messy mocha locks and flexed his muscles beneath that long-sleeved shirt? Even now, she could see him looking at his reflection in the window – what little of a reflection one could see anyway.

  Still, in her right mind, she couldn’t force herself to kick him out with the current blizzard. No, she didn’t know him. Yes, he was a stranger. And a hard body. But her former professional training told her that he wasn’t a bad guy. Maybe arrogant. But not a thug. Wife beater? She’d hold judgment on that, but she didn’t get that vibe either. She was no longer Lina Armstrong, the woman who busted balls and nailed the remains to the wall. Nope. She had turned over a whole new leaf in the two weeks she’d been in Colorado.

  She was smart and happy Lina Armstrong who was writing a book – a complete one-eighty from her past life. She was cool, calm and collected. She was a lover now. Not a fighter. She’d forced herself to give up her old life and she was sticking to it. She wanted nothing to do with that Lina Armstrong.

  She glanced at her new—temporary—roommate out of the corner of her eye. “What’s your name anyway?” she asked in a much nicer tone than what she had been using with him before. Old habits and all.

  “Dylan. You’re Lina. Roomie.” He gave her a lopsided quirk of his mouth, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he winked at her and raised his fist waiting for a fist bump. Yes, that did silly things to her stomach. It shouldn’t but it did. He knew what kind of effect he had on women, that was for sure. She slowly clenched her hand and raised her fist, meeting his. Their knuckles bumped together for what felt like an eternity.

  Why had that felt like she’d just made a deal with the devil?

  She cleared her throat. “Not for long. You can stay until the storm is gone. As soon as they clear the roads, you have to find another place to stay.”

  “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked curiously. “How long have you been in Colorado? This isn’t a storm, for you cutesy, out-of-town folks. This is a fucking whiteout. So no. I already told you I’m not going anywhere. Now or otherwise. But aside from the storm, I’m staying my two weeks.” Dylan crossed his arms over his chest and once again, she noticed how his muscles flexed beneath his clothing. Again.

  Two weeks with his cocky ass?

  Um, no thanks.

  “I respectfully disagree. I was here first. Possession is nine-tenths of the law.” Lina folded her arms across her chest, mirroring Dylan’s. Only when she flexed her arms, nothing noteworthy happened.

  His mouth lifted into a cocky smirk – the third since he’d walked in, but who was counting? “Nine-tenths of the law? I’m here now too, sweetheart. Let’s just agree to disagree for now. Neither of us can go anywhere when it’s like that outside without putting our lives at stake. Until it clears up, let’s coexist.”

  Absolutely not was on the tip of her tongue. The old Lina would have never agreed to something like this. Coexist? Was that some New Age term? She glanced at her computer—her manuscript—a new leaf. Right. No sarcasm. She wasn’t the old Lina anymore. The new Lina could coexist, couldn’t she? Her heart beat a little faster as she watched Dylan’s eyes travel over her body. The same once-over he gave her when she was wielding the log weapon at the front door. He was totally checking her out.

  “For now,” she huffed. So there was still a little old Lina left in her. She needed to work on that. Spending two weeks alone, she thought she’d put her old self in the past, but come face to face with a human like him and small slivers of her old self were peeking through the drapes in full force. She cleared her throat. “Fine,” she said a little nicer, less sarcastic.

  He took a few steps toward her, and the pit of her stomach did weird little flip-flop movements. He stopped a mere foot away from her, and his cologne that she vaguely smelled when he’d first come across the threshold, threatened her full-force as its tantalizing smell crept up her nostrils and swirled in her brain. What was that? She almost gave up right then and said she’d move out. How could she stay in a small space with a guy who smelled that good?

  “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

  “You’re welcome. How did you make it up here anyway?” Lina asked, still trying to acclimate herself to his masculine scent. Forget the altitude. That wasn’t what was making it hard for her to breathe. Gosh, had she really been cooped up this long that a sexy stranger was getting her hot?

  “I have a penchant for perfect timing.” The words rolled off his tongue like honey, and to break the thick tension that was mounting between them, she glanced out the overly-large living room window at the whiteout. She had to agree with him there. It was as if the storm had trailed behind him as he’d driven up the mountain.

  Shifting her thoughts back to the cocky, handsome stranger, she asked, “Wasn’t it snowing from wherever you came from?”

  “Barely. Like I said, perfect timing.” His hands came up, and he made a symbol that looked like a football field goal. A score. Oh, so cocky.

  She groaned and turned away, hoping to stop the butterflies in her stomach. “Whatever. Let me show you your temporary room.” She stopped suddenly and turned back to him. “You go first. I’ll follow behind you.”

  His eyes danced with humor. “You afraid I might attack you or something?”

  “Just go.” She felt the heat along her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire but one seemingly all-knowing handsome stranger who’d just nailed her thoughts exactly.

  She sucked in a breath as he leaned into her personal space, and she tried desperately not to focus on his perfectly straight nose. Or his beard or his mustache that was mere inches from her face. She was suddenly dying to touch it. She so wasn’t a beard-loving kind of gal. But on him—coupled with those deep
green eyes of his—it sent pulses to the tips of her begging fingers. Had her wanting to graze his jaw like a crazy woman. Put those poor fingertips out of their misery.

  “If I were a bad guy, Lina, I would have over-powered you when you let me in and turned your back to me as you’d walked away. Or maybe when you were on the phone with the condo owner. You’ve already let your guard down, sweetheart. You can stop with the self-preservation. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.”

  She knew this. She felt it. It was habit. And okay, her dad would flip if she told him what she’d just done. “I wouldn’t have let you in if I thought that. My gut is pretty spot-on when it comes to men, and you haven’t given me bad vibes. The log was a just-in-case kind of thing. But please, to your room.” Lina stepped aside to let him pass.

  “Oh no. Ladies first.” Dylan stood still, hands to his sides and his eyes alight with humor as he watched her.

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms against her chest. “Come on.”

  Lina ascended the stairs, fully aware of the arrogant, hot-as-sin man trailing behind her as she thought about how unlucky she was right now. All she wanted to do was spend a month alone in what had become her cozy little condo. She’d literally walked out of her job and her old life, and being at Pine Lake in her small place of heaven on earth, was the only thing she had going for her. Seriously the only thing. How pathetic was that?

  Aside from the massive living room and hearth downstairs, the condo wasn’t large—adequate, not extravagant—so it took only a few seconds to reach the second floor and show him around.

  “This is my room. And it has a lock that I will be using.” She pointed inside the first door. “And this can be your room.”

  The bedrooms were situated next to each other, and it had never occurred to her to be bothered by that fact until she realized that she was going to have to sleep close to the man and share the bathroom with him.

  Dylan let out a low whistle as they walked into the room. It was decorated in pink undertones—her least favorite color—which was exactly why she chose the blue room. Pink pillows to match the pink and gray bedcover. A fluffy pink rug that she’d already teased her bare feet with—only she’d used the blue version in her room—lay on the floor next to the bed. The rooms were identical, save for the colors. Same queen bed, brown headboard. Same dressers and nightstands that also matched the headboard. Same skinny lamp with an extra-large crooked lamp shade. Dull and boring, if you asked her. Less than basic. Dylan dropped his bags on the carpet and strode to the large window. He stood like that for a moment, and Lina took the opportunity to study him.