Dream Runner (21 page)

“Right. You mind if I finish?” He curled his torso, bringing his head and shoulders higher. His back curved and his behind tightened in the black shorts, promising much.

You mind if I watch?
Marlea kept the words to herself, but shook her head at the regal sight.

Continuing the series of crunches, AJ pointed to the rack of individual weights. “Hand me those, will you?”

“How heavy?”

“Can you lift the twenties?” he grunted.

Hesitating, Marlea looked over her shoulder. “If I do them one at a time.”

“I can wait.”

Breathing hard, Marlea frowned and took her time delivering the weights, proud that she was still able to lift the poundage. He took them from her hands and mumbled his thanks.

Breathing harder with the added poundage, his skin shining, slick from the sweat of exertion, AJ finished his work. Dropping the weights to the rubber mat beneath him, he reversed his grip and managed to chin himself neatly before dropping easily to the floor.
Damn, he looks good doing that.
His forearm swiped his chin, catching salty drops of water, and Marlea’s knees softened.

Rissa was right; he does work hard.
“That was quite a workout. How often do you do it?”

“Got to do something every day. I feel kinda lazy if I don’t. Hold on, I’ve got one more set.” Dusting his hands with chalk, AJ reached high and began a series of pull-ups that strained the cords in his arms.

Silently, Marlea counted the reps. “Must be the result of all those years of football and training.”
He did forty without stopping…

“You know about that?” Completing the set, AJ dropped to his feet, resting his hands on his knees while he gathered breath. “How?”

“I…uh…I went through some of the scrapbooks in your library.” She handed him the towel on the bench beside her. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Recovering, he accepted the towel Marlea offered and worked it vigorously over his shoulders and torso before tossing it into the corner hamper. “I see you’ve got your shoes on. Does that mean you’re ready to get to work?”

Marlea’s stomach flipped when AJ pulled a white cotton tee shirt over his head and chest. “Yeah…uh…yeah. I’m ready.” A small part of her mind was grateful for the humble shirt—he was too disturbing without it. “Where do you want me?”

“Over here,” he said, indicating a series of mats. “We’re going to start with some stretches, then build into some flexibility.”

Oh, no. Not again!
The flexibility training meant her lying down and him leaning close, bad enough, but he would have to touch her. Looking down at her shorts and tee shirt, she came close to swearing.
At least he wouldn’t be able to touch my skin if I had worn long pants—not that it would help.
Her lip quivered.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…
She had been repeating the words to herself regularly since her talk with Jim Crocker. She had even shared them with Libby over the phone, hoping that confession would help her.

I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…
Steeling herself, knowing what his touch would trigger, Marlea let him lower her to the mat.

“This is getting easier,” AJ said, helping her to roll onto her side.

Not for me.
She swallowed the unspoken words.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…

The mantra should have helped, should have marshaled her thoughts and cued her body for work and rehabilitation. Instead, her pulse raced and her nipples tightened in anticipation.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…
AJ’s hands began to move, first against her hip, then a warm palm pressed to the inside of her thigh, and Marlea tried to hold onto herself.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…

She thought of the open and intelligent face that looked up at her from his scrapbooks.
His mother took those pictures
. She thought of those fan letters tucked in the back of that last scrapbook, all of them from women who would pay money to
f
eel what she was feeling right now.
But this is medical-related
, she thought weakly.

Electricity lapped at her leg, following the path of his hands.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…

His hand moved again, and her breath quickened.
I know this man is honorable. He’s only trying to help me…

“I want to try something new, Marlea.” AJ’s fingers pressed. “Here we go.”

I know this man is…
Closing her eyes, biting her lips against the roaring tear of ecstasy, Marlea knew that only God could help her now.

Chapter 20

Marlea took a deep breath. “School has already begun. If I’m ever going to get back, I have to do this.” Slowly, delicately, she shifted her weight onto her right foot. “I can do this. I did it yesterday and the day before.” Slowly, delicately, she shifted her right foot into place. “I walked all over this house last week without that danged cane, and I know I can do it again.”

Knowing that Martha Baldwin was the only person in the house who knew what she was doing, and she would never tell, Marlea took another step on the marble tiled floor.

Reaching the Precor treadmill had been her first goal. Then she had managed to step aboard and get it started. It was amazing how scared she had been, using a machine that she had trained on for almost half her life, walking that first half-mile. “Took me almost fifteen minutes.”

But she had worked at it, and her confidence and strength grew. Earlier this week, she had managed almost two miles in less than thirty minutes. “Now, it’s a matter of picking up my time and gaining distance. And even if AJ does know what he’s doing, there’s no way I’m going to tell him about this—not him or Libby, either. They can just be surprised with the rest of the world.”

Glancing at her watch, she figured she had a couple of hours to sneak in her walk. “AJ and Dench went to a publicity photo shoot with Robert Crown, Rissa should be in her office until around seven, and Mrs. Baldwin is on her way to church—plenty of time. What could be better?”

Programming music for her workout, she had a fleeting image of herself running and pushed it away. “Yeah, that would be better, but I can’t live on what was. The best thing for me now is getting back to school.” A tremor of delight quickened her step. She could see herself, almost hear the children around her. “I can’t wait to walk through the doors at Runyon. I wonder if the kids have given up on me?” They were still sending cards and letters. “Nah, no way.”

Realizing that she had begun to pick up AJ’s habit of self-conversation, Marlea looked around, glad to see that she was still alone. “Good thing nobody’s around to hear me talking to myself.”

Stepping onto the treadmill, she stood wide, her feet riding the rails as she programmed the machine. It hummed response, then the tread began to roll slow and smooth between her legs. Maneuvering carefully, she set her feet on the belt and began a slow, trudging warm-up. Eight minutes later, thinking of AJ’s promise, she increased the speed. “I can do this. If he can promise that I’ll run, I can do this.” She kept walking.

“But he made another promise, too. He said I would dance—with him.” And even beyond thanking him, Marlea couldn’t think of anything she would rather do.

Two miles later, soft and solitary applause startled her and made her reach for the treadmill’s rails.

“I knew you could do it.” AJ’s voice was soft, a shade past a whisper. Walking closer, he peered at the treadmill’s display panel. “Damn, when you push, you don’t play around, do you?”

Slowing the speed, liking the admiration in his face and voice, Marlea swiped at the salty water nearing her eyes. “I had to try, and I did it. I got through three miles today with no cane, no holding onto the rails, just walking all by myself.”

“You did it, baby.” He brought two fingers to his forehead in salute. “Running is just around the corner. Now we have to work on balance so that you can go farther, faster, and over different surfaces. Balance,” AJ said. “Everything we do from now on is about balance.”

“Right.” She stopped the treadmill, and when he offered his arm, she took it gratefully.

Accepting his help felt better than she had anticipated. Marlea finally found her breath and a chair. Dabbing at her face with the towel he offered, she blew hard. He squatted low before her chair, hips dropping and tightening the cotton fabric of his drawstring pants.

Don’t look.
“Did you finish your photo session?”
Ask a stupid question…
She tried to concentrate on his face.

“Yeah, but what you did was amazing. All on your own.”

Marlea deliberately moved her measuring eyes from the juncture that hailed so naturally from between his thighs.
Don’t look
. And his thighs—long and strong, thick and muscled—didn’t they look…

Aw, damn,
she fussed silently,
I looked
. She moved her eyes again and settled on his left shoulder.
Uh-huh, that ought to be safe enough.

“Marlea? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, balance. You said balance.”

“Good. Now we’re going to work on balance.” He stood easily. “Slow and easy, something like core training. You’ll hold me here.” He slipped his bare forearms beneath her palms. It took her a while to remember to breathe. “I’ll hold you here. Just lean on me.”

I can do that.
She placed her hand in his. Bringing Marlea to her feet, AJ partnered her, melding their strength, mating his body to hers.

Beginning with a glance and a nod of assent, Marlea let her arms snake around AJ’s shoulders, feeling his right hand warm her back. Taking a moment to feel each other’s balance, the slight dip of his body led her smoothly into one backward step and then another.

Holding her breath, praying not to stumble, she followed his lead into a figure eight, a turn, a pause. Her left foot was weightless, touching his right, and when his foot slid out, hers went along willingly. His knees bent and his hips led. She tried not to limp as he accepted her weight and carried her into deeper undulation. They stepped forward and shifted back, their legs twining and feet lifting before gliding on to another move, pulled along by the music’s melodic search and soar.

There was a moment when Marlea’s leg trembled and took on a defiant sweep. Fearing failure, she gave in to it. She leaned forward against him, her cheek brushing his, in complete trust. They both listened and succumbed to a rush of stringed instruments, crooning vocals, and the wail of what seemed like a clarinet under exquisite torture. She felt his breath in sync with hers as he moved with and between her steps, anticipating ending perfectly together on the last note of the song.

Now how am I supposed to balance this?
“What are we doing?”

“We’re dancing,” AJ whispered, guiding her gently.

Dance is a vertical expression of a horizontal desire; George Bernard Shaw said that,
Marlea recalled.
Wonder if AJ knows that.

Still holding her, AJ stopped moving. “Maybe we should start this from the beginning.”

“I’m confused,” Marlea admitted, trying not to grip his hard body.

“You know that walking, dancing, finding the natural grace you were born with, it’s all a part of who you are. Whatever we do has to be functional.”

“Dancing has a function?” The Shaw quote came to her mind again, and she hoped he didn’t feel the shimmer of her nerves, but she had no intention of moving from where she stood.

“Socially,” AJ paused. “What if you were on a date?”

Okay, enough of this.
Marlea took a step back from him and reluctantly dropped her arms. “I don’t date much, and I don’t think anyone is going to ask me to dance. It’s kind of hard to get your boogie on with a cane.”

“You did pretty well on that treadmill without a cane.”

“That was different.” Turning slowly, she made her way to the chair she had started from.

“But what if, Marlea? What if this were a date? What would you expect from me?”

Hardly daring to look over her shoulder, Marlea kept moving. “This is silly.” Sitting hard, she wrapped her arms around her body and looked away from him.
I don’t know, AJ. What would a woman expect from a man like you? What did Bianca Coltrane expect from you?

“We could start with this.”

Looking up, Marlea saw AJ’s extended hand holding a little blue wildflower.
Where did he get…
She remembered the ceramic vase by the door, the one he had stood next to watching her walking on the treadmill.

“You gonna leave a brother hangin’?” He held the flower closer.

Remembering the first time she had heard him say those words, Marlea pressed her lips together, keeping the smile to herself, she was determined to keep that hospital room and her stay at Grady a distant memory. “What’s this for?”

“If this were a date, I would bring you flowers.” They both looked at the single blossom. “Okay, spur of the moment. I brought you flower, a flower.”

“Thank you.” The silly smile broke free and Marlea accepted the flower. “What next?”

“I might…” AJ looked around the room. “I might bring you a gift, too…something I know you like.”

“The flower wasn’t a gift?”

“Not exactly. Pretty women deserve flowers.”

She passed a hand over her ponytail, tucking in stray hairs as if it wasn’t too late for him to notice. “Just for being pretty?”
Wonder if he bought truckloads of flowers for Bianca Coltrane?

“Something like that.” Smiling, he held up a finger and backed away from her. Reaching the side table, he picked up something and held it behind his back as he walked toward Marlea.

“What is it?” She tried to read his face, gave up, and bent to try to see what he hid.

“M&Ms!” she squealed when he held his hand out. Grabbing the bag, she ripped it open, tossed a few into her mouth, then thought better of it and offered the bag. “I guess I could share.”

AJ refused. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.” Marlea bit down on more candy, studying AJ as she chewed. “Why?”

“Because if this were a date, we would share something, and I can’t think of a lot of things more intimate between two people. When a man is with a woman, she has to know that he thinks of her, has to think of her. He has to be as willing to know what she wants and needs as he is willing to have her anticipate and meet his needs.”

“I don’t want anything.” Marlea dropped her eyes and shifted in her chair. “The question is, what do you want? What is this leading up to?”

“We were going to dance, remember?” AJ moved to the small gray wall panel. Touching buttons, he waited for the softly changed music to fill the air around them. “I want my dance.”

Marlea folded the tip down on her bag of M&Ms. She tucked the bag between her leg and the chair and waited. The music was soft and soothing, almost too intimate, and it made her want to move with it. “I know this song.” She tried to remember the artist and the words.

Turn out the lights, and light a candle…
Teddy Pendergrass
.

“Is make-out music a part of my therapy?”

“No way,” AJ grinned, opening his arms to her. “Remember what I told you about core training. The slow transfer of weight will aid in the balance you’re eventually going to use for running.”

“Dancing as functional training. What happened to, ‘if this was a date’?”

“First things first.”

“Why not?” Placing her hand in his, Marlea stepped into his arms. The familiar sense of urgency began where her hand met his and grew, spreading warm, then hot and sacred as it headed to her core. Eyes closed, her breath fast, Marlea gave in to the music and the man who held her. Her body softened against his and suddenly, she knew. “It was honesty, wasn’t it?”

His cheek moved against her hair. A single broad palm braced her back as he held her close, and she knew without question that she was right. She saw the whip of pain in his eyes. It only lasted for a second, telling what words could not. Marlea’s feet stopped and she stood, breast to chest, with AJ. “It was honesty that broke you apart, wasn’t it?”

AJ looked away first. Dropping his eyes, still holding Marlea close, he shook his head. “I should have known that Rissa couldn’t keep her mouth shut.”

“It wasn’t Rissa. I saw the engagement announcement in the scrapbook.” Marlea dropped her head to his shoulder and looked up at him. “I saw it and I did the math. Do you still see her?”

His feet began to move again, slower this time, searching for the music. “Yeah, occasionally,” he finally said. His voice was husky and filled with unspoken words. “It’s not the same, though. It’ll never be the same.”

“You value honesty that much, that you would give up everything for it?”

He sighed. “Without honesty, what would we have? I was ready to hand my life over to that woman, Marlea. She would have been my wife, the one I was meant to turn to in the best and the worst of times. She would have been the mother of our children…”

I like how he said ‘our’ children.

“Bianca’s loyalties never lay with me; they were always with my bankbook—or the one that was bigger.” He pulled Marlea closer. “You know how it is when people say and do whatever they think will get them what they want from you.” He moved with Marlea in his arms, his breath soft against her sleek hair and she wondered if he felt the shivers rippling beneath her skin. “Yeah, it was honesty that broke us apart.”

“You really value honesty that much?”
Maybe I should tell him…

“Yeah, I do. Don’t you?”

AJ’s eyes changed again as he found Marlea’s, and she wondered what that woman had done to hurt him. Warm and trusting, there was an unplanned innocence that she found hard to deny. Her fingers tightened in his grasp and she nodded.

“You know, uh…” Part of her mind was screaming loud and reverberating denials, but her heart urged her forward. Marlea went with her heart. “Since we’re talking about honesty, I need to tell you something.”

He looked at her, and her once brave heart began to beat like a hummingbird’s wings.

“Do you remember when I…gave you such a hard time about the therapy, especially in the beginning?”

“Do I ever.”

AJ turned them in a small circle, making her a little dizzy.
Okay, I guess I could blame this on being dizzy…
“There was a reason.” She waited. He waited. She took it as a signal to continue. “AJ, I know you know what phantom limb pain is, but did you know that sometimes people get phantom limb orgasms?” She held her breath.

“Oh.” AJ kept dancing. “How long?”

He’s taking that better than I thought he would.
“Since the very first time.”