Page 26 of The Naughty List
“So I got the job?” I barely tamp down the urge to squeal excitedly.
“You got a trial run, like you said. I won’t hire anyone else for the position until after New Year’s. Until then, if you can prove to me you can handle this and not bail, it’s yours.”
I let out a small sound of surprise. “You won’t regret this, Jonah.”
“I wish I believed that.” He rakes his hand through his hair. “Before you walk the dogs tomorrow morning, meet me at six thirty at the gym.”
I nod adamantly. “Got it.”
He holds up his index finger. “One condition.”
“Anything.”
He leans in so close our noses almost touch. “Tonight, your brother asked me if I kept you around for the view or for a back up piece of ass. That’s not why and you know it but I can’t unsee what I saw today. So from now on, you keep your clothes on. All of them. For the sake of my sanity and my face. Please.”
So that’s what he meant byit will never be like that.I shouldn’t care, but I’m human and I do.
“I’ll do my best.”
He sighs as he steps backward. “Guess I’ll take what I can get.”
8
HOLLIS
ROCKIN’ AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
The next morning I call the Glen Oak Alzheimer’s Center on the way to Jonah’s gym to let them know I’ll be a little late today. Not that my grandpa will notice either way, but I like to give the staff a heads up.
I don’t know what Jonah has planned for me, but since we’re meeting at the private gym where he works out, I wore workout clothes. Clad in my only clean sports bra, which happens to be hot pink, a white tank, and black dri-fit capri pants, I grab a gray hoodie from my backseat and yank it on before I get out of the car.
The outside air is ice-cold, coating my lungs as I make my way inside. Warmth welcomes me along with the scent of cleaner and sweat and something chemical—like rubber or new plastic—as I step into the gym.
The large black warehouse is brightly lit and Jonah stands in the center of a boxing ring with another man about his size.
“She made it,” the man says.
I check my phone before dropping it into my bag. It’s six twenty-five.
“With time to spare,” I say with a smile, pulling myself up to the ropes. “I’m Hollis Rossi.”
“Cal Murphy,” he says, removing a glove to shake my hand with his large meaty one. He’s a wall of a man with a red face and strawberry blond hair.
“Nice to meet you, Cal.”
“Nice to meet you, though I can’t say I agree with Jonah’s choice of sparring partner this morning.”
I glance at Jonah. He shrugs and yanks his sweatshirt off. “She says she wants this job. This is where I do my best thinking.”
He stands in only a pair of black mesh basketball shorts. There’s white athletic tape on his wrists and ankles. My mouth runs dry at the sight of his ink-covered muscles.
“Good luck to you, darlin,’” Cal says as he climbs down from the ring. “Take it easy on him.”
Jonah wears a confident smirk. “Think you can handle this?” He hands me small pair of thin padded gloves.
“Are you really going to hit me?”
He rolls his eyes. “We’re just going to workout, Hollis. Relax.” He pulls some type of padded shield onto each of his hands. “Hit the pads. Right then left.” I took a self-defense class a few years ago sponsored by my brother’s prescient. This should be easy enough.“You look disappointed. Were you hoping to get a few good hits in?”
