Deep Desire (Going Deep Book 4) Read online

  “Speak of the devil, and the devil appears,” Murph said, smirking because she’d caught him staring at Zoe in the worst way possible. “Big brother, you are so fucked.”

  Zoe didn’t see him at the end of the bar and took a seat one short stool away from his sister. She seemed intent on seeing her brother instead of checking out her surroundings, a sign that she probably came here often to talk to him.

  “I need a shot of tequila and a light beer, stat, good buddy,” she told Pete when he shuffled up to her and kissed her on the cheek. “You won’t believe the cocky bastard I had the pleasure of training this afternoon.”

  Cocky bastard? For a moment, he was instantly jealous that she had trained some other guy, then pissed at himself for being jealous, then pissed that someone had been a dick to her. Finally, it dawned on him—she was talking about him.

  Pete chuckled and tilted his head toward Gabe. Murph leaned back to give Gabe and Zoe space to notice one another, and Zoe’s eyes widened when she spotted him.

  Gabe gave her a “what’s-up” nod. “Nice to see you, too, Zoe.”

  Chapter 4

  Please, God, don’t let this be happening.

  Oh, it was happening, all right. Gabe Murphy was sitting at the other end of the bar and his sister, Murph, sat beside him, a wide grin splitting her face when she called out.

  “Hey, Zoe! Fancy meeting you here!”

  “Hello, lovely clients,” she managed to choke out. “Nice to see you. I’m just going to take my drinks, and my mortification over here.” With an awkward little wave, she picked up all her stuff and moved down the bar. She wasn’t sure why she moved, except that maybe she’d already inflicted enough damage and it was best if she left with her tail between her legs. “Cheers.” She raised her glass.

  They raised theirs in return.

  She took another seat down the bar, looked at her brother and muttered, “I can’t believe I just said all that. Note to self: check my surroundings next time before I spew insults.”

  “Or, speak your mind and deal with the consequences,” Pete said.

  “You’re not helping,” she muttered, downing her shot of tequila. Tequila would help her pretend that Gabe Murphy was not at the other end of the bar, taking occasional glances at her, probably thinking she was the biggest jerk in the world.

  “Hey, if it’s any consolation, he was talking about you and saying some pretty stupid stuff too, before you got here, so don’t worry about it.” Pete wiped the counter before placing a bowl of peanuts down in front of her.

  “Actually, get me a pizza, please.”

  “Pizza?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, pizza.” She spent six days of the week working on her body hardcore and usually avoided gluten and sugar, but she treated herself once in a while. After the workout she’d given Gabe and the way she’d just embarrassed herself, she deserved it. “So, what did he say?”

  “Just how ugly and pathetic you are.”

  She gaped at him.

  “Kidding, Zo. Nothing terrible, but I can’t break the bartender’s code of non-disclosure. You know that.” He winked and left to put in her pizza order.

  Zoe thumbed through her phone, mostly so she wouldn’t have to awkwardly sit there, pretending that Gabe Murphy wasn’t down the bar still staring at her, even as his plate of food arrived and he ate while his sister talked his ear off. She managed to sneak several glances his way without him noticing.

  He was even more gorgeous in his street clothes. Dressed in jeans and a black print T-shirt, his hair semi-wet from a shower, a heel up on the stool’s footrest, another planted on the floor in brown boots, Gabe was all cool, comfortable, no-nonsense. He looked like a man who’d put in a hard day and just wanted to chill without being bothered. And here she’d come in calling him a cocky bastard—to a paying client.

  Great move, dumbass.

  Pete might not be willing to tell her what Gabe had said about her, but it was probably something like how mediocre she was as a trainer compared to others, huge men with immense, meaty arms, ripped abs and enough testosterone to power the gym’s light bill, blah, blah, blah. She downed half her beer in one swig.

  This was stupid. She should just go talk to him. They were both adults. Avoiding him was no way to start a professional relationship.

  She waited for the right moment when he was more distracted by his meal than by her, after his sister got up to head for the ladies’ room. Zoe picked up her beer and slid down the bar.

  “Hello, again,” she said, leaning against the bar top.

  He looked up through steel blue eyes. “Oh, hey. Just a warning, I’m a cocky bastard,” he said, giving her a sexy side glance that made her stomach flip. “I’ll bite if you’re not careful.”

  For 2.2 seconds, it was all Zoe could think about—Gabe Murphy biting her. Gently, on the neck, pulling her hair as he pounded into her. No, no. Focus, Zoe.

  “I’m really sorry I called you that. I was just letting off some steam. You’re not really a cocky bastard. Well, not too cocky. Not really a bastard either. Only a little bit.” The words weren’t coming out as smoothly or professionally as she’d hoped. In fact, she was basically crashing and burning.

  A gruff sound of humor rumbled up from his chest. “I’ll have to try harder then,” he said. “I was going for supremely cocky. Guess I missed the mark.”

  “Nah, you made it just within the cocky-enough spectrum,” she teased, relaxing now that he’d taken the olive branch she’d offered.

  “Good to know.”

  “Seriously, though, as a client, you have every right to be comfortable with your trainer, so that was unfair of me. Especially when we’ll be spending so much time together.”

  At this, he paused to look at her, and she felt his gaze burning off the clothes she’d thrown on tonight. Men normally checked her out, especially in her tight workout clothes, but this was more. This was exposure.

  She blushed and drank her beer, glancing away, pretending to be intrigued by what Pete was doing instead of Gabe. “Regardless of us butting heads a little,” she said, “I actually think our workout styles mesh really well. I know we’re going to make a great team.”

  He leaned back on his stool. “I agree,” he said. “And I’m sorry, too, for the way I acted when I met you, and for yanking your chain later and telling you ‘you’ll do.’ That was a stupid thing to say, considering how good you were. Lucky for me you showed up so I could apologize and issue you a challenge this time.”

  “A challenge?”

  “Darts.” He stood and plucked the darts out of the board, handing them to her along with a side of smolder. “Want to show me what you can do?”

  Lord, there went her overactive imagination again, conjuring images of things she could show Gabe, and none of them had anything to do with the gym or a dartboard. “Definitely.”

  “Zo…” Pete had brought her pizza and set it down as he cleared Gabe’s plate.

  “Thanks, buddy,” she said, snatching herself a slice and taking three quick bites. Positioning herself to throw the darts, holding her slice in the other, she aimed and speared the first just outside the inner ring.

  “Holy shit. I don’t know what’s hotter, the fact you just nailed that or did it with your mouth stuffed with pizza.”

  She shot him an amused look and aimed the second dart. “You’re in trouble now.”

  “Oh am I?”

  She speared the second dart right into the bull’s eye. “Damn straight, you are.”

  “You’re right. I’m so fucking dead.” He grinned at her, and she felt her knees go weak.

  Murph returned from the bathroom and slowed down when she saw them. “I leave for five minutes and come back to find you two playing nice. Maybe there’s hope for this planet after all.” She smiled at Zoe and then at Gabe in that special way relatives do when they’re happy to see you enjoying yourself. “Don’t stay out too late, though.”

  “Leaving?” Gabe leaned int
o his sister for a hug.

  “Yes, my day starts early tomorrow. Have fun, kids.” Murph waved to them both, then to Pete, then left the bar.

  “Your sister seems nice,” Zoe said, taking aim of her third dart and tossing. This one didn’t get as close to the target as the other two. She walked up to the board and plucked all three out, handing them to Gabe. “I liked talking to her when she came in to interview me.”

  “Yeah, she’s cool. We look out for each other. Have ever since our parents died.”

  For a moment, his expression became serious, contemplative and sad.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks, but it was a long time ago.” He got into position and threw his first dart. “Ha! Bull’s eye. I’ll beat you yet, peach.”

  Zoe blushed. When she thought of that nickname he’d given her, she thought of a big round ass. Her butt wasn’t that big, but it had a pretty nice shape to it, and she wondered if that was why he’d given her the nickname. What nickname could she fire back? Eggplant? The thought made her giggle.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  No way could she tell him. “I’m just laughing because you insist on calling me peach, like I’m some delicate fruit when I clearly am not. Also, you think you’re good at darts. Meanwhile, you’re shooting from two feet away. The line is back there.” She pointed at the spot where she’d stood.

  “What? You’re crazy. It’s right here.”

  “It’s not,” she laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “It’s way back here, Einstein.” Okay, this was fun. She liked the Gabe he’d shown her tonight, despite how awkwardly it’d started.

  But she’d grabbed his arm, and he’d sunk into her touch too easily, and she was buzzed from the drinks. His scent surrounded her, and heat curled deep in her belly. She breathed deeper, enjoying the feeling for a split second before reminding herself that she was Gabe’s trainer, and that’s all she was.

  It was time for her to go.

  She watched as he threw the rest of his darts, hitting each within the outer ring.

  “Wow, I really do suck at darts. Good thing I mostly have to catch not throw,” he joked.

  She laughed then said, “Um, thanks for the game, but I should be going.”

  “Are you driving?”

  “Walking.”

  “Then I’ll walk with you.” Gabe left a $50 bill on the countertop for her brother, telling him to keep the change.

  “You don’t have to do that. I only live a few blocks away from here and it’s still hot as Hades,” she said, though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to spend just a few more minutes with him.

  “Listen, I might be an asshole, but I’m not the kind of asshole who lets a woman walk home alone in the dark.”

  “Fine. I appreciate it, thank you.” Zoe paid her own bill and gave her brother a kiss goodbye. Outside, the sky glowed purple and orange, just the way it did most nights in Savannah. The air was hot and humid, downright uncomfortable, but here she was, walking home with a gorgeous man by her side. She’d been troubled when she walked into the bar and she had come out with a smile on her face, all because Gabe had let down his guard and shown her who he really was.

  What had Gabe said when they’d first met? That she was a complication.

  Pot, meet kettle.

  Keep your head on straight, girl. This one’s trouble.

  Acutely aware of Gabe standing next to her, Zoe stuck her key into the front door lock of her house. "Thank you for walking me home," she said, tentatively looking up at Gabe from beneath her eyelashes. "I really had, um…"

  She let the end of her sentence trail off, her words swallowed up by the symphony of crickets chirping in the hazy dusk. Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and leaned casually against her doorframe. The buzz of tequila made her skin prickle as she brushed her hand through her long hair and considered what would be an appropriate way to say good night. Should she reach out to shake his hand in keeping with their professional relationship? Should she pat his arm in a friendly gesture to acknowledge the fun she’d had tonight? Or should she stop pretending she wasn’t affected by the look on his face—the one that communicated he wanted to crash down her front door, pin her up against the wall, and do dirty things to her?

  Practical Zoe gave Horny Zoe a good kick in the shin.

  Nope. No. Absolutely not.

  She couldn’t do that.

  Professional, Zoe. That’s the way to go. Professional.

  She stuck out her hand. “I’ll be in touch soon so we can firm up our schedule,” she said.

  Gabe looked at her hand, at her face, then at her hand again. The corner of his lips twitched upward before he slipped his hand into hers. “Sounds good, Zoe.”

  “Unless…”

  The word slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it. She immediately regretted it, but it was too late to pretend he hadn’t heard her; in the dim light of the street light, his eyebrows lifted.

  “Unless?” he queried.

  "Um, unless you’d like a glass of water?” There, that was a good recovery. It was just the polite thing to do when someone walked you home, right?

  "A glass of water?" he asked, his voice irritatingly calm.

  Zoe was anything but calm: her heart was racing, her palms were sweating, her nipples were straining against her bra.

  "Yes," she said, hoping her voice didn't quiver. "A glass of water. I mean, you walked me all the way here in this heat and…"

  And nothing more, she promised herself. She was just going to give him some water, enjoy a few more minutes in his company, and that was it. But deep down, Zoe knew she was kidding herself, at least about not wanting more. And, she suspected, Gabe knew it, too.

  She quivered as she felt Gabe's eyes on her like an impending rain storm. His chest rose and fell steadily next to her and she wondered how that was when she couldn't even seem to catch her breath.

  "I am feeling a bit parched," Gabe finally answered.

  She swallowed hard. “Great. I mean, it’s no problem. The water, I mean.” She finally turned the key in her door and pushed it open. She took one step inside and was immediately struck by a sweltering wave of humid air that hit her like a wave of lava. Hell, it was hotter inside her house than it was out.

  Zoe fumbled for the light switch as Gabe followed her in and immediately tugged at the collar of his shirt.

  "It's a bit warm in here," he said, stepping over a foam roller she'd used that morning when it wasn't 103 inside her house. "You don't have A/C?" Gabe asked.

  Zoe frowned at the thermostat, flicking it with her finger: the arrow pointed to 73. It was not 73.

  "I did have A/C," Zoe answered out loud while in her mind a string of curse words repeated on loop.

  This was the last thing she needed. Zoe simply couldn't afford to replace her A/C.

  "I’m not an expert by any means, but do you want me to take a look at it?”

  Zoe glanced over at him and immediately pictured how sweaty he’d get if he stayed much longer let alone tried to fix anything—he’d either have his shirt plastered to his chest in no time, or he’d be forced to take his shirt off to avoid heatstroke. Either way, Zoe knew it would take her attraction to him to a whole new level and there was only so much temptation a woman could take.

  This was a sign, for sure.

  “That’s okay. I’ll call someone tomorrow. I have a portable fan and I’ll keep the windows open. I’ll be okay for one night.” It would likely be for longer than one night and she knew it, but she refrained from telling him that. “I can still get you that water though?”

  Please say no. Please say no, she thought, even as she watched a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. She’d seen him sweaty in the gym after his workout, but here, in her personal space, the sight of that perspiration made her think of strenuous workouts that didn’t occur in the gym.

  His gaze pierced hers for a few seconds before he finally said,
"I’m good. Lock up behind me?”

  She let out a sigh of relief and nodded. “I will.”

  Zoe watched Gabe slip out of her house and gently close the door behind him. Once he was gone she covered her face in her hands and sagged to the kitchen floor, equal parts relieved and disappointed to see him go.

  Chapter 5

  Two days after Gabe walked her home, Zoe stepped inside Savannah Oaks Memory Facility. The first thing she did was sigh at the welcome feel of working air conditioning. She’d gotten a bid from a repairman to fix the air conditioning at her house but just as she’d suspected, it wasn’t something she could afford at the moment. Probably not for a long time, actually. She’d slept fitfully the past two nights despite sleeping naked without any covers. Ugh, it was going to be a miserable summer, but she’d have to tough it out—her money was better spent here or on Iron Maiden. She could handle it.

  In preparation for what was to come, Zoe took several deep breaths. The old renovated building smelled of wooden porches, fresh paint, and essential oils. The staff believed the aroma of peppermint sparked memory, but she wondered how effective the aromatherapy really was. Checking in with the front desk, Zoe signed her name and showed her ID.

  Visiting her ailing father always gave her mixed emotions. Would he recognize her? Would he ask about his deceased wife? Would he get agitated or upset? What should she say to him? Kip Reynolds’ Alzheimer’s was advanced. Most days, Zoe had to introduce herself to her own father all over again.

  She headed to Room #19 all the way in the back by the sunshine terrace. They paid an extra $300 a month just for this view, hoping it would improve their father’s mood. She’d scheduled afternoon visits from now on, because that was when her father seemed to be doing his best and because it would work best for her training sessions with Gabe. His first practice with his new team was tomorrow, and she’d already talked to Murph about sitting in so she could refine her strategy for getting Gabe the best possible outcome from his training.