Page 30 of Billionaire Unreachable: Wyatt

She sent me a gorgeous smile before she dipped her head down again and mumbled, “Then you were a team of badasses, and just watching you run like that makes me feel completely exhausted and woefully out of shape. How much longer are you going to kill yourself with that punishing pace?”

I grinned. I was actually slacking today. I normally pushed myself a lot harder on a daily run. I wasn’t quite as fit as I’d been when I was active duty, but staying in shape remained a habit that was ingrained in me during my years in the military.

Maybe I didn’t work out in the field anymore with Last Hope like my team in Michigan did, but there was always a chance that something could go south on a rescue operation. Even if there was only a slim chance of that happening, I wanted to be prepared to go after the guys in the field if necessary.

I also didn’t want any thanks from anyone for my military service. I was simply doing the job I’d needed to do, the work I’d signed up for voluntarily. I was used to staying anonymous. Delta Force was a very covert unit. Very few people even knew what we did, and we liked it that way. But hearing those sincere words from Shelby’s lips was…different.

Hell, if she wanted to see me as some kind of special forces hero, I was okay with that, even if it wasn’t true.

“I still have a couple more miles,” I told her.

She moved again, changing positions fluidly until her shapely ass was in the air. Her head was down almost to the ground, and her palms were flat on the mat.

“And you’ve barely broken a sweat yet,” she grumbled. “I think I’m exercising when I walk a mile or two. You’re ridiculous.”

My grin grew wider. I couldn’t remember the last time that someone had dared to call me ridiculous, but because she’d actually meant it as a compliment, it was hard to be offended.

Honestly, I’d rather run another ten miles than to try to bend my body into some of those unnatural positions she was managing to do effortlessly.

“If it makes you feel any better,” I said. “My body doesn’t bend in any of those positions you’re doing right now. It looks painful.”

“I’m used to it. It actually helps with stress and to keep me limber. I spend a lot of time doing physical work when I’m cooking for a large event. Those side gigs can be grueling. Sometimes I don’t sit down or stop for twelve or fourteen hours, and I’m not in my early twenties anymore. I also carry a little more weight than I did when I was younger. I eat far more of my own cooking than I should, and all of those carbs show on my ass and my hips,” she finished dryly.

“They look pretty damn good from where I am right now,” I said huskily before I could stop myself. I hated the fact that she saw anything about her body that was worth criticizing. “How old are you now?”

“Thirty-five,” she answered without hesitation. “And I feel every bit of the mileage I’ve put on this body over the years. But I can hardly complain considering all the physical things you had to do in the military. You’re Kaleb’s age, right?”

“Forty in a few months,” I confirmed grudgingly. “Kaleb was a year behind me. We met on the campus.”

She snorted. “You’re in pretty damn good shape for your age, grandpa.”

“Smartass,” I shot back, even though I really didn’t mind her teasing me about my age because it was also a backhanded compliment.

I wasn’t sure why I cared what she thought, but I did.

Generally, women weren’t all that physically attracted to me, and they certainly weren’t drawn to my not-so-charming personality.

They were attracted to my wealth and power if they could get past their hesitation because of my size, my overly serious, sarcastic demeanor, and my lack of charisma.

Chase had always been the charming, handsome, and magnetic Durand brother, and I’d never been envious that my brother had a way with women.

My younger brother and I just had different personalities and physical appearances, which was actually an asset to me since Chase was better with people than I was. Always had been.

I was a loner, and I usually preferred it that way.

Strangely, I didn’t dislike Shelby’s playful attitude. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had joked around with me like this, and I actually liked the fact that she felt comfortable enough with me to do it.

Very few women did.

Shelby Remington had never been intimidated by me, which, if I was being honest, had captivated me from the first time we’d met. She wasn’t afraid to tell me exactly what she thought. She was refreshingly honest, which was new and different for me.

Okay, so maybe I hadn’t enjoyed being raked over the coals for my presumed arrogance, but at least she’d said exactly what she’d thought at the time.

She moved into what looked like a more comfortable, seated position before she asked, “What would you like for dinner?”

“You need to do another video?” I questioned, starting to feel the miles I’d burned up.

“Not tonight. I’ll just cook for us.”

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