Page 21 of Simon Says

“Thank you, Haggerty. You’re being most helpful.”

He grinned, stunning Dakota by the beauty of that smile. How such a gnarled little man kept such wonderful teeth, she couldn’t guess.

As he ran her credit card, she asked, “I hope Sublime is here today.”

“I seen him earlier.”

“You seen…er, saw him where?” In that crowd, she’d never find Simon without a little help.

“Weight room. Toward the back.” Haggerty tipped his head in the general direction then returned her card to her, along with a temporary ID. “Just so you know—it’s smelly back there, too. Not every day, but today’s not every day. Today is busier.”

“I appreciate the warning.” Dakota stared across the floor toward the door Haggerty had indicated. A dozen scarred, curious, muscle-bound hulks kept her in their sights as they continued with their routines.

It’d be like walking the gauntlet.

She might as well get it over with. Looping her satchel strap over her neck for safekeeping, Dakota lifted her chin and began her trek. It wasn’t easy. Sweaty bodies ebbed and flowed around the room. She got bumped four times, three of those times on purpose, she was sure.

A hand grazed her behind. She ignored the insult of it. For now. But she did turn to lock eyes with the offender.

She wanted him to know that she was on to him.

A little more handsome than some of the others, he grinned at her. “Looking for someone, honey?”

“A man.”

He held out his arms. “Mallet Manchester, at your service.”

“Oh,” she said, “I think you misheard me. I’m looking for aman.”

Everyone around them roared with hilarity.

Except Mallet.

Dakota could tell that he took himself far too seriously.

Separating herself from him, she stepped around one bruised fellow with the worst cauliflower ears she’d ever seen, and sauntered past another who smelled like a sewer; Haggerty hadn’t lied about that.

After much maneuvering through human traffic, she finally reached the door—and it opened on its own.

Simon stepped out and almost ran into her. He drew up in what she chose to interpret as pleasurable surprise. “Dakota.”

“Simon.” Man-oh-man, he looked good, sweaty and hot and, again, wearing only kickboxing shorts, these a royal blue. Not a single foul odor arose from him. If anything, he smelled good. Earthy. Manly. Strong. Sexy.

Dakota shook her head of those fanciful notions. “You bum,” she teased. “You know, you could have warned me.”

His firm mouth didn’t smile, but his dark eyes did. “About what?”

“The eighty dollars, naturally.” Never in a million years would Dakota admit that the crowded gym discomforted her. “I had to use my credit card just to get in.”

His fingers touched her chin in a brief apology. “I’ll try and make it worth the cost.”

That single nonsexual caress immobilized her. Hell, she couldn’t even breathe. She stared at Simon, waiting for…she didn’t know what.

Three swearing, disgruntled men pushed toward them, and Simon took her arm, tugging her out of the way. But rather than stop once he’d cleared their path, he released Dakota and kept going—toward another group of men.

Dakota hurried after him. “You’re still working out?”

“I’m done, but I want to watch some of the others for a while.”

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