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Tony interrupted them to ask Hank a question, giving her a brief reprieve and the chance to pull herself together. She escaped to the fruit bar where she ordered a bottle of water, then turned and leaned back to watch Hank and Tony.
A small crowd had gathered around the machine where Hank worked out. Lizzie occasionally glimpsed him through the bodies blocking her view. Those brief peeks were more than enough for her, and she silently sent up thanks that she couldn’t see more.
Hank didn’t resemble Mr. Universe. His physique wasn’t that extreme. But the thought of professional bodybuilders still flashed through her mind while she watched. Sweat darkened the fabric of his T-shirt and glistened on his skin. Biceps bulged and strained. She could hear his slightly labored breathing and soft grunts of exertion. His dark hair, too long to suit her usual tastes, stuck to his neck in individual curls. And that was only the top half of him.
She dared to lower her gaze to his legs. Powerful thighs bunched and stretched as he raised and lowered himself. Men’s legs had always fascinated her. Hank’s mesmerized her.
The sound of counting reached her ears. “One hundred fifty-three, one hundred fifty-four, one hundred fifty…”
Holy cow! She tore her gaze away and slammed the water bottle on the bar. Enough. Without another look, she retreated to the dressing room and changed back into her suit, all the while berating herself for her weakness. She’d make sure to keep her distance and not put herself in a position like this again. Any attraction to the man would be disastrous, and she’d almost gone way beyond that. She had her business to think about. And Amanda. Her daughter had been hurt once because of an attraction to a man. She wouldn’t let that happen again.
Lizzie wanted so badly to give Amanda the best. She had done all she could, but so much of her money went to daycare for Amanda and the rest had gone to pay most of her mother’s medical bills. The stroke her mother had suffered had been severely debilitating, but her mother had worked hard for months in the rehab center to regain much of what she had lost.
Since her husband’s death, three years earlier, Lizzie’s mother had relied on family. Even more on Lizzie than she had on Lizzie’s sister, who was six years older. At thirty, Vicky had her own family and the perfect life, as she’d always had. With the added expense of their brother’s college fees, they’d struggled. But even more, Lizzie wanted to be a success, not a failure. Her parents had tried to curb her wild streak, but she hadn’t listened to them. She understood now that it was simply her way to gain attention. Her sister, Vicky, had just married the perfect man and was planning the perfect family and life. Lizzie had always been the younger and less perfect daughter. She had come home from college to announce that she was pregnant and the father had left her high and dry. She had broken her parents’ hearts and, even though their disappointment and disapproval had been evident, they had stood by her. She’d learned her lesson the hard way. Her father had died before she could prove to him that she had changed, but she could still show her mother that she was a responsible woman and mother.
“Giving up?”
Lizzie jerked her thoughts from the past and looked up to see Hank standing in front of her, a white towel draped around his neck. “It’s a little more than I’m used to,” she told him with a smile she didn’t feel.
“Hungry?”
She nodded. “A little.” In fact, she realized she hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast.
“Good,” he said, his dimples deepening. “Bailey told me about a great place to eat. I’ll have a quick shower in the locker room and we can—”
“Hank,” she said, reaching out to lay a hand on his muscled forearm. A shiver of heat ran up her arm, but she ignored it. “We can’t have dinner tonight.”
He turned to her, his expression one of confusion. “Why not? I thought it would be the perfect chance for you to tell me which fork to use and how I’m not supposed to tuck the napkin under my chin.”
She wasn’t sure if she should tell him the truth. She rarely told men about her daughter. Another hard lesson learned, and at Amanda’s expense. And she never revealed her private life to clients. But for some reason she knew she had to tell Hank.
“I promised my daughter I would have dinner with her tonight.”
For a moment, he was silent. “Your daughter?”
Lizzie recognized his disappointment, so like the other men she’d known in the past. She knew better. Even worse, she was disappointed. It shouldn’t have bothered her, but it did.
“A daughter,” Hank repeated, feeling as if he had been sucker punched. He had never asked for any particulars about Lizzie’s family, but he hadn’t thought it was important. Apparently it was, even though he wanted to deny it.
With a quick—and he hoped discreet—glance at her left hand, he assured himself that she wasn’t wearing a ring. He hadn’t noticed one before, but he hadn’t paid much attention and didn’t trust his memory.
“I’m sorry about dinner,” she said.
He shook his head. “No, it’s okay.”
She lifted her gaze to his and he saw a touch of sadness in her blue eyes. Because they couldn’t have dinner? He had no way of knowing.
It didn’t matter. Things were now changed. Lizzie was no longer simply a beautiful woman he was attracted to. She was a mother. A woman with the responsibility of a child. A family. Something he had only vague memories of and no plans to have for his own.
But his curiosity was getting the better of him, even though he now saw her in a new and very different light. “How old is she? Your…daughter.”
“Four.” She glanced around the crowded gym as if she were looking for the way out. “Maybe we should leave.”
Nodding, he slipped the towel from his neck. “I’ll grab that shower and meet you at the car. Unless you want to wait for me here?”
She shook her head. “I’ll go on and let Bailey know you’ll be out soon.”
All he could do was nod again and head for the showers. The fact that she was a mother didn’t make her less attractive. It made her more attractive because of his curiosity. But if she was married—No, he was certain she wasn’t. She would wear a ring. Wouldn’t she?
It took him less than fifteen minutes to shower and change, then he met Lizzie in front of the building, where Bailey waited with the limo. Still wondering how to handle the change in circumstances, he climbed in to take the seat across from her. Bailey slid behind the wheel and the car merged into the traffic.
“We have a full day scheduled tomorrow,” Lizzie said without looking at him. “The apartment is furnished and will be ready to move into. I’ll explain the details later so you don’t need to worry. You’ll be able to move in first thing in the morning. Do you have your belongings stored somewhere, or do you plan to send for them?”
Thinking of his meager collection of belongings stowed in the dilapidated pull-behind trailer he’d lived in for years, he couldn’t think of a single thing he hadn’t brought with him that would suit a sub-leased apartment. “I won’t be needing anything.”
“I’ll let Bailey know we need to pick