Page 23 of Match Point

“Somehow I knew you’d say that something crazy like that. It’s pouring down rain, so it’ll be muddy. I told you how I felt about mud.” Resigning herself to the inevitable, she crossed her legs and tapped her toe in the air.

“Think of it as a spa treatment. Lots of people across the world pay millions for such a luxury.”

“Lying down while someone applies it in a smoothing and gentle way, not getting splattered with it. What is your obsession with working out outside? Are we ever going to hit the gym? Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Her legs were still hurting from their first workout.

His warm laughter sent a smile to her lips. “Nature beats the gym any day of the week. You shower after you’re done at the gym, so what difference does it make if you come back caked with mud or soaking wet?”

“I won’t get sick at the gym nor does it have bugs. I don’t like bugs.”

“You sure have a lot of things you don’t like; jogging in the rain, me, toast without butter, peanut butter without salt, and now bugs.”

“What can I say? I’m a whiner.” He was wrong on one count. The kiss they had shared still stuck in her mind. She was starting to like him a bit too much. He’d turned her down the night before and she wouldn’t put herself in that position again.

“I’m okay with that. But I’m going to ask you to keep an open mind. Who knows, you might like it.”

Chapter Seventeen

She didn’t like it.

Leo leaned against the cedar tree and watched Sorcha struggle to get her bike up the last ten feet of rutted ground. Mud spattered her face and her blue eyes were cold with frustration. He glanced down at his watch and offered her an encouraging nod. “You made good time.”

“Apparently not good enough,” she spat. Removing her helmet, she plopped down on the fallen log and drank from her water bottle.

“You’ll get there.” She’d excelled until the trail had steepened, then she’d bogged down, not a big surprise given the elevation. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have to do lunges.”

“Have I asked you to do anything I haven’t done myself?” He’d been right beside her each time she’d worked out outside the tennis court.

Her answer was an overt sneer. He handed her a bag of orange slices and a homemade energy bar. “Try the bar and tell me what you think.”

He popped an orange slice into his mouth from his own bag, waiting with a bit more nervousness than warranted for her to taste his latest creation.

She sniffed at it, broke it in half, and took a bite. Chewing, she stared down at it, inspected it more closely, and nodded. “It’s good. Not dry or mealy like so many bars I’ve eaten over the years. I like it.”

“Are you sure? The main ingredient is unsalted peanut butter and cricket meal, and I made them, so technically that’s three things you don’t like.” He expected her to spit it out, but she swallowed it with a drink of water.

“I’ve eaten in every country in the world, nothing could surprise me. And I like you just fine. I suppose. If I have to admit it.” She took another bite and ate an additional piece of orange. Had the flush on her cheeks increased, or was it wishful thinking on his part? He’d been half-joking and hated himself because of the half part.

“Did you enjoy the ride? I didn’t think it was too bad. It’s been many years since I’ve taken this particular trail. Back in the day, I rode it non-stop. Most of the berms we passed were ones we built. Me and the other boys on the ranch.”

“When did you first come here?”

He stood, debating whether to answer or not. He’d asked Grams not to disclose anything about his parents to her. This was a working relationship, but Grams was proud of all her kids and might let things slip. “When I was twelve. My dad died in a suicide bombing in Afghanistan, and I became a ward of the state. ” Not the entire truth but it would do. Despite his reasons for coming to live with Grams, he’d loved the ranch. It was home.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her hand, tears brightened her eyes and he turned his back on her, unable to stand the pity.

“It was a long time ago. Let’s start with some stretches. The nutritionist should be here by the time we get back. Of course, Grams will insist we have a BBQ when Tucker arrives. She’s quite excited he’s coming. It’s not every day you meet a true hero.”

“He’ll like that.”

“Afterward, Clark will build a bonfire and we’ll have S’mores.”

Sorcha stood; the tension palpable between them. He shouldn’t have told her. It was none of her affair and had nothing to do with his job. Hell, perhaps it was a mistake to bring her here. There were many private clubs that would have been isolated enough for his purposes.

“Are they on my approved food list?” she asked, a trace of her old sarcasm back.

“What do you think?”

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