Page 17 of Seizing Mack
Chapter Eight
~ Mack ~
“God, Mack. How do youdo it?”
Delilah flopped back on the L-shaped sectional, acting, for all intents and purposes, as if she’d been digging ditches in the heat all day instead of teaching one beginner Zumba class in a climate controlled, filtered-air studio and covering the reception desk for an hour. Sending Dee over toSeizefor the Sunday morning class had been a stroke of genius, providing at least a few hours of Zen-like peace and quiet.
To be fair, Delilah had beenalmostbearable ever since the spa episode. Jay, good-hearted soul that he was, thought her good behavior was because she recognized that Mack had made a genuine effort to bridge the gap between them. Mack knew it was because Delilah was reliving Mack’s humiliation over and over in her evil little mind and was simply laughing too hard to be her normal, horrible self.
“Do what, Dee? Work? It’s a great way to pay bills and pass the time,” Mack answered grumpily.
Dee snorted, somehow managing to make it sound feminine instead of the decidedly crass noise Mack made when she did it. Whenshesnorted it sounded more like a pig snuffling for truffles. Mack wondered absently if Jay and Dee attended the same modelling school where they learned that kind of high-brow stuff.
“No. I mean spending all that time at the gym around so many hard-bodied hotties. How can you concentrate onanything?”
Oh, that. Therewerea lot of hot guys at the gym. Firefighters, cops, service men, and others whose jobs required them to be in peak physical condition had memberships. With its focus on total health, incorporating mind, body, and spirit,Seizehad seen great success and its affordability made it a favorite among the public service crowd.
Not that Dee cared about any of that. She saw a set of glistening washboards and her mind went in one direction only: south.
“You know,” Mack told her, pulling forth another nugget of trivia, “it’s been scientifically proven that the scent of male sweat is calming to overstressed women.”
Dee looked at her as if she was crazy. “Calming? Put me in with all that prime beef and that’s the last thing I’m feeling. My lady parts tingle just thinking about it.”
Mack felt offended on behalf of the “beef”. Those men weren’t cattle; they were hard-working guys who cared enough about themselves and the people they served to take care of their bodies, and it was her job to help them do it. And while Mack appreciated a toned, fit body as much as the next women, her lady parts didn’ttingleat the sight.
With one notable exception.
As if picking up her thoughts, Dee added, “Especially the new guy, Nick. He is H-O-T.”
Mack tensed at the easy way his name rolled off her tongue. Detective Benning was the only exception to her no-tingle rule, and Dee’s mention brought forth flash images of her latest taboo fantasy. Something about the man made it hard to look at him as just a client. Maybe it was his kind eyes. Maybe it was his smile. Maybe it was the sense that there was so much more to discover beneath the disciplined, professional exterior.
“What do you know about him?” Dee fished.
“Nothing,” Mack answered, which wasn’t exactly true. She knew he was a detective and a danger to her sense of propriety.
“I’m going to Google him.”
Mack squirmed uncomfortably. She was a huge proponent of privacy and hated the thought of Dee or anyone else cyberstalking someone who was looking to start over. Especiallyhim. In their first brief encounter, Mack had seen glimpses of shadows in the detective’s clear eyes. She’d bet her favorite Sig that Nick Benning had seen his share of ugliness. Maybe because she had been there, done that, and recognized the look.
“Dee, I don’t think his prior personal life is any of your business.”
“Anything I find will be a matter of public record. Besides, he’s got this strong, silent, mysterious vibe going on. That is so sexy, don’t you think?”
Mack could feel Delilah’s eyes boring into her. Did Dee suspect that Mack harbored a hidden crush for her newest client? No, there was no way she could have. Mack’s private thoughts were like Vegas: what happened there, stayed there.
“I suppose,” Mack said non-committedly.
Dee looked at her as if she’d grown three heads, then her eyes grew wide. “Wait... you’re not...” Dee lowered her voice to a hushed whisper, “...you know, are you?”
“No, I don’t know. What the hell are you talking about?”
“You like girls, don’t you?”
Mack stared at her in disbelief. Just because she was capable of controlling her baser impulses around every fit Tom, Dick, and Harry didn’t mean she was walking the rainbow runway. “No, Dee. I’m not a lesbian.”
“Are you sure? Because, it would be totally cool if you were.”
“I’m not.”
