Page 137 of Simon Says

The idea of Simon tangling with Marvin didn’t sit right. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Dakota turned to him. “I have faith in you, but don’t forget that he’s a thug, not a good sport, okay?”

“Noted.” His smile seemed genuine enough as he started them into the house. “I’ll call someone to clean it, then we need to get to the gym.”

“No, I’ll call someone.”

“Dakota…”

“Hustle up, Sublime.” She playfully smacked him on his muscled tush. “Time’s wasting. I’ve been enough of a distraction from your training. I don’t want to add to it. So get what you need and I’ll make some calls from the gym.”

As Simon went into the house and down the hall, he said, “I want to practice with you while we’re there.”

“I’d love it. Maybe after you’re done with everything else, and if Dean says it’s okay.” Dakota had made up her mind about many things. Tonight she’d tell Simon all about Barnaby, then together they could ask Barnaby more about her mother’s death. If Marvin had been around at all, Barnaby would know it.

Last night had given her plenty to consider. The thought of facing Marvin still sent chills down her spine, but she knew she had to if she wanted him out of her life.

Before that happened, she planned to get in as much practice as she could. When she saw Marvin again, she’d be ready.

They arrived at the gym a little later than usual, and although Simon didn’t seem to notice, there were plenty of sly glances sent their way. Did everyone know that they’d slept together?

Probably.

Did she care? Nope.

As she stowed her satchel and thermos in the corner, Haggerty came over to her. “Betcha won’t guess who dropped in.”

He looked anxious to tell her, so Dakota asked, “Who?”

“You gotta guess.”

Looking around the gym, she saw Simon in close conversation with Dean. They both appeared engrossed, but not disgruntled, so it couldn’t be an unpleasant caller. “The media?”

“Nope.” Haggerty rocked back on his heels and announced, “None other than Hard-to-Handle.”

So much for guessing. Dakota peered around the crowded floor again. “Harley Handleman is here? Where?”

“In the back, yakking it up with Mallet and Gregor.”

He must have left Vegas around the same time Simon had. “What does he want?”

“Don’t know. But I reckon Simon will find out.” And with that, Haggerty swaggered back to his position out front.

Dakota didn’t want to interrupt Simon or Dean, and she didn’t feel comfortable grilling any of the other guys. Resigned to waiting before she’d know why Harley had come calling, she sat down in the corner with her stuff and pulled out her phone with a pad of paper and a pen. Hopefully she’d find a repairman who could clean the paint off the mailbox.

A few minutes later, she had just made arrangements with a company when a shadow fell over her. Still speaking into the phone, Dakota looked up, and found herself snared in mesmerizing blue eyes. Her eyebrows lifted.

With his sun-streaked blond hair and dark tan, the man standing over her looked more like a surfer than a contender for the SBC championship belt.

Dakota covered the phone. “Harley Handleman?”

“That’s right. And I take it you’re Dakota Dream?”

She nodded, but had to return to her call. “Thanks. Yeah, that’ll work. Okay, see you then.” She closed the phone and stood. “You know me?”

“You’re a legend in your own time.”

That made her laugh. “Now I wonder how that happened.”

He tipped his head to study her. “I imagine it was effortless on your part.”

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