Page 15 of Fit for Love
“You want to grab a drink before we head back to Bayview House?” Ethan asked, as he packed away his paperwork and did up his backpack.
I frowned. After what I’d told him about my slip up, he was really considering taking me to the pub?
As if sensing my confusion, he said, “They’ve got a mean smoothie bar here.”
“Oh, right. Yes, sounds good.” I smiled and followed him.
We got two smoothies: a carrot, pineapple and banana one for Ethan and a kale and avocado one for me. I insisted on paying—having poured my heart out to Ethan, I figured it was one way to say thank you for listening.
As we sat at one of the tables in the corner, I noticed that the waitress was giving Ethan a serious case of side-eye. Even though there were a few other customers in the cafe, her attention appeared to be solely focused on us.
“Do you know her?” I asked, sipping on the drink. I actually hated kale, but figured it was penance for everything I’d put my body through recently.
Ethan glanced over to her. “Martha? Sure, she’s a friend of Betsey Jackson, I think. That’s another woman I’ve recently started training.” He laughed, the sound low and throaty. “Seems I’m much in demand at the moment.”
I could see why. My gaze swept over him, taking in the sculpted muscles, the tautness of his body, straining against the T-shirt he wore under his zipped hoodie. Seriously, why was I even thinking about Ethan like that?
“But you’re not just a trainer, are you? I mean, the taxi thing?” I steered the conversation back to safer ground before I could say anything that got me into trouble.
“Yeah, I moonlight for WW Cabs most days. It’s mainly little old ladies who need to go to the supermarket or the bank and can’t be arsed to get on the bus. Then they try to set me up with their granddaughters.” He laughed again.
Betsey Jackson probably fell into that category, I thought. Although why he’d need setting up with anyone at all was a mystery to me.
“And I also do odd jobs—a bit of painting and decorating or gardening, that sort of thing.”
“What do you ultimately want to do then? That’s such an eclectic mix.” I wrinkled my nose.
He stirred his smoothie with his straw. “I want to travel again. I’m only here to get the next trip paid for, then I’ll be off. I had such a great time in Eastern Europe, and I’m keen to explore more of the world. Staying in Westbourne Water is only a stopgap.”
My heart sank as I recalled Mal had told me that on the first night I arrived. Trust me to start falling for someone who wasn’t even going to be around.
“Right, I see.” I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice. “Shall we head back to the house? I think Piper was cooking tonight.”
“Good plan. I’m starving. Even assessing makes me hungry.” Ethan took our empties up to the counter and I followed him.
“Hey, Ethan, when are you next seeing Betsey?” Martha asked. “I know she’s super-excited to be going out with you.”
I didn’t want to hear Ethan’s answer and stalked out to the car, leaving him there. It took him a further five minutes before he arrived.
“Hey, why did you run off?” A flicker of concern showed in his eyes, but I dismissed it.
I crossed my arms. “Like you said, I’m hungry too.” I reached up to the black bob. “Plus this wig is really starting to itch.”
Chapter Nine
Ethan
Over the course of the next week, Cora and I trained every day. And she insisted on paying for each session. The South America trip was becoming more of a reality. She still stood firm on wearing the black wig, which made me laugh. But after that first session, when she’d been pretty open with me, she’d closed down again. When we talked, it was about something Mal or Piper had said or done, or she told me about her best friend, Louise. Where I thought we’d been getting to know each other better, it seemed she wanted to keep me at arm’s length. I’d also done a couple of sessions with Betsey, several taxi shifts and cleared an entire overgrown garden. I felt as if I needed a rest, or at least something to look forward to.
That night, the four of us were having dinner as we did most evenings, like some sort of family. We chatted about our days and I learned Cora had been helping Piper with some of her jewellery designs. She’d even had a go at making one of them, albeit not very successfully.
“See, if I tell punters Cora Appleby had made them, they’ll fly out of the online store,” joked Piper.
“Ugh, it will be easy to tell which ones I did. I’m the clumsiest when it comes to doing anything so delicate.”
I couldn’t imagine Cora being clumsy at all. She certainly hadn’t shown any sign of that during our workouts.
“Ah, but imagine the publicity. You can blog about it and we’ll sell out again.”
