Page 85 of Own the Eights
The identical twins giggled.
“No! I’m Mya, and she’s Mia,” Mya said, wrapping her little arms around his waist.
“I’m sure I’ll get it right someday,” he said, happy to see the girls.
“Can we climb on the big tire?” Mia asked, bouncing from foot to foot.
Jordan glanced over his shoulder at the four-hundred-pound CrossFit tractor tire they used when training clients. “Sure! Just don’t pick it up and throw it out the window.”
The girls laughed and set off to play as he greeted Maureen with a kiss to the cheek.
“How are you?” he asked.
The woman, who had been like a second mother to him, cocked her head to the side. “I should be asking you the same thing, Mr. CityBeat Battle of the Blogs.”
Heat rose to his cheeks. “You’re following that?”
“Everyone I know is following the contest. You and the Own the Eights blogger are the hottest thing on the internet.”
Georgie. Just the mention of her tightened the vice clamped around his heart.
“Yeah, that…” he answered, sure his cheeks had bloomed a bright shade of scarlet.
Maureen eyed him carefully. “You two are great together. But nobody can figure out why she’s so angry with you.”
He sighed. “It’s me. I led her on and then had to end it with her because I forgot my priorities.”
The woman frowned. “What are your priorities, Jordan?”
He was ready with his canned answer. “I’d like to start my own gym and run my own show.”
“You want to be like Deacon?” she asked, concern etched on her face.
Jordan glanced at the girls, jumping in and out of the super-sized tire, then met Maureen’s gaze. She’d supported her husband every step of the way. She’d done his books in the beginning. She’d cleaned the locker rooms and dusted the weights. She worked the front desk, even while nursing the girls. And what had Deacon done? Thrown it all away to screw twenty-two-year-olds in an elevator.
He couldn’t lie to this woman. And that’s when it hit him. His mentor was a goddamn fool. He’d had it all—a kind, loving wife and two bright, healthy girls. And he couldn’t see it. He hadn’t factored them into his definition of success. Sure, Deac was wealthy and connected, but what was all that without love?
“No,” he said in a tight whisper. “I don’t want to be like Deacon. I really screwed up with Georgie. She’s…”
“She’s what, honey?” Maureen asked, her expression softening.
He blinked back tears. Jesus! He hadn’t cried since he’d lost his mother.
He steadied himself. “She’s everything. She’s everything I never knew I needed and everything I don’t want to live without.”
How could he sell her out? This woman who’d shown him such compassion. This former Miss Cherry Pie who was always on his mind. This complex, beautiful, courageous, Birkenstock wearing, bun-sporting beauty he’d been sure was his polar opposite, an eight in his sea of tens, who’d completely changed his life.
Maureen glanced around the gym, taking in her ex-husband’s only measure of success. “You don’t get many second chances in this life, but you owe it to yourself to try. You’ll see her today, right?”
That’s right! The 10K! Thanks to Deacon’s office sexcapades debacle, he’d almost forgotten.
He checked his watch. “Yeah, I will. But I need to get to her before the race. I have to talk to her.”
“Is daddy here?” Mya chirped, breaking into their conversation.
“Yeah, Daddy had to cancel our visit last week, but he said he’d take us to the zoo today!” Mia added.
Jordan grabbed a sheet of Deacon CrossFit stationery and an envelope from the front desk and wrote the words he should have said to Deacon months ago.
