Seducing Sarah - Book 2: The Body: Tony Read online

  Seducing Sarah

  - Book 2 ~ The Body: Tony -

  Ami LeCoeur

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Career Life Press

  Copyright © 2017

  Ami LeCoeur

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied or reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior written consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events, is entirely coincidental. All names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and situations are either the product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real.

  Releases:

  Book 1 – The Shutterbug (Jimmy)

  US - http://amzn.to/2mtAmqI

  UK - http://amzn.to/2mqZDBi

  Book 2 – The Body (Tony)

  US - http://amzn.to/2mEfmdS

  UK - http://amzn.to/2niwoBN

  Book 3 – The Educator (Scott) - April 20, 2017

  US - http://amzn.to/2ojhSu7

  UK - http://amzn.to/2nFlkwo

  Book 4 – The Player (Kris) - May 4, 2017

  Book 5 – The Advocate (Al) - May 18, 2017

  Book 6 – The Cider King (Jonathan) -June 1, 2017

  Seducing Sarah - Full Series:

  US - http://amzn.to/2n7lFcQ

  UK - http://amzn.to/2niHNl3

  Connect with me on Facebook: http://facebook.com/AmiLeCoeurBooks

  Newsletter: – Click here to get an email as soon as the next book in the series is available.

  Book 2 - Summary

  After realizing how dismal her single life had become, Sarah set out on a quest to create more balance for herself. But it’s been years, and regardless of how successful she has been with her advertising agency, she soon discovers that her dating skills are more than a bit rusty.

  Discouraged by her first attempts, she second guesses herself, only to fall back into her normal workaholic routine. But she’s still determined to sort things out, and even if she can’t have what she wants, she knows it’s still important to stay in the game instead of hiding out.

  While working out at the gym, she meets Tony. Buff, athletic and very attractive, Sarah finds his enthusiasm refreshing. Perhaps it’s time to see how a slightly younger man fits into her lonely life.

  This is Book 2 in Sarah’s journey.

  Chapter One

  I cranked the resistance on the elliptical machine up as far as it would go, pushing myself to the limit.

  Come on, Sarah. You skipped a whole week. This is what you get.

  It wasn’t just my recent laziness that had me working so hard, though. It was the disastrous date I’d just suffered through, and the dismay and humiliation I still felt. Everything was too close, and I had to get it out of my system or else I’d… what? Wither up and die? That was a bit dramatic, but I hadn’t been able to look at myself in the mirror the following morning. And I was still so disgusted with myself for falling for the smarmy photographer’s lines. His worthless, meaningless, manipulative lines.

  You should have known better. I winced at the voice in my head.

  He’d certainly given me enough clues showing me what a creep he could be, but I’d refused to see it. I’d made excuses for him, even. Well, I’d gotten my punishment. Humiliation, disappointment, embarrassment for him and myself.

  If I thought about it for more than a moment or so, it felt like the weight of my self-loathing might crush me. It wasn’t even him I was mad at so much as myself. He’d only acted like the jerk he’d proven himself to be. I was the stupid one. And I didn’t like feeling stupid. I mean, who does?

  I pushed harder, harder. Earbuds delivered intense, pounding music to match my mood and the pace I needed to keep. I grimaced, working through the sweat and the way my muscles protested against the strain.

  Focus, focus. Push through it.

  I grunted aloud—how loud, I didn’t know—but I kept moving, arms and legs working together. Sweat dripped from my forehead, rolling down my face, my neck. My blonde hair stuck to the back of my neck, and I welcomed the feeling. The more sweat, the better. Get it all out of my system, off my shoulders.

  Eventually, I might work hard enough to forget all about the heaviness in my chest, the pain surrounding my heart. What I needed, more than anything, was to stop blaming myself for being so stupid.

  A movement out of the corner of my eye got my attention, and I glanced over at the row of treadmills to my right. The gym was usually busy at this time of day. After all, it was Saturday morning. Despite the number of people milling around, there was only one treadmill in use. On it was a cute, buff looking guy… and he was grinning at me.

  He mouthed something, but I couldn’t hear him thanks to the music pumping into my ears. I pulled the earbuds free. “What did you say?”

  He grinned again. “I said, I’ve been watching you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody work that machine the way you’re doing. Aren’t you afraid you might break it or something?”

  I barked out a short laugh. Fat chance of that happening. “Thanks for being concerned.” I eyed his broad muscular chest before reaching for the earbuds again. He was definitely attractive. Tanned skin, dark eyes. Dark hair that curled a little across his forehead where the sweat had gathered. He had a great body, even if he was a bit more muscle bound than I was used to seeing—even in a gym.

  I wondered how I’d never noticed him before now. I probably should have. But then, I seldom paid much attention to the things going on around me while I blasted through my routine. Instead, I listened to marketing podcasts or business books when I worked out, always multi-tasking. Some women might think it was a waste of eye-candy, but I was usually too busy thinking about work to think about a muscular body. Even one as impressive as his.

  “What’s got you working so hard?” he asked. “You look like you’re trying to kill yourself.”

  What a smooth pickup line, I thought. Telling a woman she looks like a suicidal maniac. I managed to bite my tongue, smiling tightly and ignoring the comment before turning my attention back to my workout.

  It probably wasn’t his fault. He seemed younger than me, and I was undoubtedly being too hard on him. He looked like a nice enough guy, and he really hadn’t done anything wrong. My reaction was all about me and my hang-ups. Besides, I told myself, he’s right. I’m killing myself on this machine.

  I slowed to a stop before climbing off the elliptical. Enough cardio for the day. I’d made up for the missed time. I wiped down the handles and seat before moving on to the weights.

  “You need somebody to spot you?” I looked up from the bench to the ‘The Body,’ as I had nicknamed him in my head. He was grinning down at me. It was a friendly, engaging grin.

  “Sure,” I said before I could change my mind. “Why not?”

  Chapter Two

  “You haven’t been around the past week or so. How come?”

  I looked up at his face from my position on the bench. What a stalky thing to say. So far, he wasn’t batting a thousand in the conversation department.

  “How do you know that?” I asked, my fingers squeezing the bar above my face.

  “I come in every day, and can’t help but notice you on your regular days. But you’re always so focused on what you’re doing. Not exactly an invitation to say hello.”

  Feeling a little put off by his comment, I chose to ignore it, and lifted the barbell off the stand, then lowered the weight to my chest. He moved closer, his thighs nearly touching my hair as he carefully watched my up and down mov
ements, ready to grab the bar should my muscles lose their strength.

  He was right, of course. That was my normal pattern—work out, inner focus, ignore everything around me. I wondered what had caused him to talk to me today. Then I shifted my thoughts back to focusing on my form.

  This guy definitely looked like he worked out every day. He was solid, sweating, muscular.

  I finished my first set, returning the barbell to the stand to rest for a minute. “You spend a lot of time working out, then?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he replied, nodding. “It’s real important to me. I take care of myself first—that’s my priority. You can’t have balance in your life if your body isn’t healthy, you know?”

  I thought about that as I started my next set. He was right about taking care of myself. I’d been neglecting that part of my life for too long. As for my body… well, I worked out regularly, managing to stay pretty slim. Besides, I needed the energy to keep up the pace of my work. No way I’d be able to go as hard as I did with a tired, sluggish body and brain.

  His mention of the word “balance” got me thinking, though. I’d certainly fallen out of balance, but it had happened slowly, over so long a period of time, I hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t just physical, either. I’d thrown everything but work aside to grow my business.

  I finished the set and took a breather. “So, you wanted to say hi, but you never did? You don’t strike me as the shy type.”

  He grinned down at me. “I’m not, really. And it wasn’t shyness. You always looked so distracted when you were working out. You’re here to get the job done and leave. Right?”

  “Isn’t everybody?”

  The smile faded a bit, and for a moment, he looked like he felt sorry for me. “Well, no. Some people talk, make friends. You know, act social.”

  I frowned. “I guess I’m just too busy for that.”

  “Some people are too busy for anything.” He shrugged good-naturedly. “You seemed a lot more relaxed the last time I saw you, though. You even smiled a couple of times.”

  I thought about his assessment of me as I started the final set, wondering just how closely he’d been watching—especially if he noticed whether I smiled. But I knew why I’d been more relaxed. That was right after I’d decided to take my life back, to let myself live a little.

  “I guess I’m not so relaxed today, huh?” I rested the barbell, then sat up on the bench.

  He chuckled. “Not even close. You’re more intense than ever.”

  I nodded, stretching my arms. “I’ve been trying to work out a problem in my head. It’s been bothering me.”

  “I know what you mean.” He loaded the barbell I’d been using with even more weight. I didn’t notice exactly how much, but it was considerably more. I wondered if he was for real, or just trying to impress me. “I do the same thing. When I’m in here working out, it clears my head. I can forget about what’s going on outside. That helps when I’m super stressed.”

  “I’ve been super stressed, for sure.” I laughed softly and wiped at a trickle of sweat tickling my temple.

  “Work stuff?”

  I nodded. “Mostly.”

  “What do you do?” He laid back, positioning himself beneath the barbell. Then he did a quick set, making nothing of the weight. I guessed he wasn’t only putting on for my benefit.

  “I run my own marketing and design agency.”

  His eyebrows raised in appreciation. “For real? That’s cool.”

  I bit back a laugh. “Yeah. It’s pretty cool.”

  “So, like, you make ads for companies?”

  “That’s a lot of it, yes.”

  He winked. “You make a lot of money?”

  I winked back. “I do well enough.”

  “Damn. If I had known you were a rich business lady, I would’ve sacked up and asked you out a long time ago.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He seemed a little less… cunning? devious? business-focused? than the men I usually spent time with. Then again, it had been so long since I’d spent much personal time with any man besides flirty lap dancers that I decided I should reserve judgment, at least for the moment. This was just a casual, lighthearted, meaningless conversation. He might have been a little shallow, but he struck me as sincere. A what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of person. And he was cute as hell. I couldn’t discount that.

  He stood. I caught a whiff of his scent as he leaned toward me. Nice. A sweaty guy who smells great. For one crazy moment, I wondered how he would taste if I ran my tongue along the line of his jaw.

  “By the way, my name’s Tony. Tony Berger.”

  I quickly tossed the thought of licking him anywhere out of my head as I shook his outstretched hand, impressed with his strong grip. There were callouses, too, tugging against my smooth skin. That made sense. He didn’t seem to be the type to sit behind a desk. He was probably in some sort of manual labor job.

  “I’m Sarah Pilsner.”

  I felt my cheeks flush a little at the way he brightened when I gave him my name, like he’d just struck gold and was sure this was going somewhere special. I didn’t totally share his enthusiasm—it was far too early for that. But it was nice to think that maybe he had that idea, anyway.

  Chapter Three

  The chill in the air made me shiver when I left the gym. I wondered if it might snow sometime soon and realized I hadn’t checked the weather forecast in ages. I was always too distracted.

  As I walked, I noticed the Farmers Market. It had been a while since I stopped by, but I remembered the beautiful apples I’d bought there. If I couldn’t control my love life, and that seemed to be the case, then I would have to focus on my health. That much I could control.

  I wandered through the stalls, bought some squash, including a beautiful butternut I knew would make a delicious soup. Roasted Brussels sprouts were always a favorite of mine, so I picked up some of those as well. Sweet potatoes, kale, it all looked good. I wanted to give myself as many opportunities as possible to take good care of myself and my health instead of grabbing a chemical burger and eating out of a bag.

  “Oh, it’s you!”

  I turned in the direction of the voice and smiled to see the apple vendor in his Hawaiian shirt. But this time, the collar was sticking out from under a high-tech parka. I wondered if he wore the shirts year-round.

  He pointed to my face. “You’ve got a nice glow in the apples of your cheeks.”

  I chuckled, shaking my head at his pun. “I’ve just come from the gym.”

  His eyes swept down my sweaty workout gear. “I wish I had the time. Too busy in my orchards. Though I guess you could say the orchards keep me in shape. God knows it’s hard work.”

  From the glimpse of the biceps I’d seen before, the orchards beat ellipticals any day of the week.

  Realizing I was staring at his chest, I forced my eyes back up to meet his. “How many acres do you have?”

  “Ten of my own. Any more than that and I would go nuts, trying to manage it all myself. I get a bit of help, especially during harvest season, but I mostly prefer to stay hands-on.”

  I nodded, a sense of melancholy washing over me. “My grandparents were the same way on their farm.”

  His eyes lit up. “Your grandparents had a farm?” He had nice eyes, a strong jawline, and a friendly face.

  “Sure. A dairy farm, but they had the same hands-on approach right up until the end of their lives.” My voice grew slightly wistful, thinking about those days. I gave myself a mental shake. This man was a stranger. He didn’t care about the way I missed my grandparents or what they’d meant to me. “And my grandma had a small garden and orchard. She’d make apple butter on the side, sell it to special customers. And her pies? Oh.” I rolled my eyes blissfully as my mouth began to water at the memory.

  He laughed. “She was a good baker?”

  “She was good at everything,” I sighed. “But there was this one tree in particular that had the best apples and made the best tasting p
ies. I think it was a combination of her skills and those apples.” I smiled. I had so many happy memories of those times, helping Grandma roll out pie dough and slice the apples.

  Best to change the subject, or else risk going too far down memory lane, too far into my own head while I was standing, chatting with a stranger. “You have some beautiful honey here too.” It was deep amber, and it kept drawing my eye. “You keep bees?”

  He nodded happily. “I keep them in the orchards. It’s a win-win, really. The bees pollinate the blossoms so the apples can grow, and the pollen helps the bees. Did you know local honey can help reduce seasonal allergies?”

  “No way! I had no idea.”

  “Sure. It’s the same idea behind allergy shots. You get a little bit of the allergen every time you eat the honey, and eventually, your body develops immunity.”

  “In that case, I’ll take two jars.” Grinning, he packaged them up for me. “You know, it’s nice that you provide for the bees that way. I keep hearing all these things about declining bee populations. It’s scary.”

  “And it’s true,” he said, eyebrows pulled together over tight lips. “No bees? No fruit, no vegetables. It’s a circle. Like that old Lion King movie—the circle of life. Everything works together. When we use pesticides—which kill the bees—pretty soon, we won’t have anything to use pesticides on.”

  I nodded. I’d grown up on farm fresh, and that’s what I preferred. Sometimes in the stores, I just couldn’t tell, which was why I enjoyed the farmers’ markets around town. And I was starting to like this one a lot.

  This guy was a nice person, and smart. Happy, conscientious. A sincere smile that encompassed a very nice face. With a sensibility that I could appreciate, especially after spending my summers on the dairy farm. He seemed like the real deal. Sexy too.

  I walked back to the bus stop with my honey, thinking about the day. Between Farmer John, with his sincere concerns for the environment and health, and the way Tony ‘The Body’ had been so sweet and helpful, winning me over with his charm, I wondered if there might still be some decent men left, after all.