Chapter 8
Cannon
“I’m going to the jump class. It’s been two days. We haven’t heard anything, and I’m tired of waiting around for something to happen. I refuse to not live my life, Cannon. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’m going. And if it bothers you that much, then you can come with me.”
I stare at Willow, the determined set of her features, and no, there’s nothing I can do to convince her to stay at the ranch.
She’s off for the next two days, so in my mind, we were going to relax on the property, ride some horses, and spend time getting to know each other.
Willow Ridgemont wants to go into town to a jumping class, which I’ve never even heard of.
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll be back here in twenty to pick you up.”
She smiles sweetly. “That would be great.”
As I exit through the side door, I turn back and catch Bennett, one hand, his thumb covering his lip, his stupid-ass mouth trying hard not to laugh at me.
“Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
I just roll my eyes and head to the cabin. Unsure what a jumping class is, I opt for workout clothes, figuring maybe we’re jumping rope or something. I haven’t done my cardio today, so that’ll work. I lace up my shoes, grab some waters and my gym bag, then drive over to Bennett’s.
Willow’s waiting outside in her coat, some black leggings, and Brooks. I like seeing us match. Where the fuck did that come from? Ohmigawd. Eat a girl’s pussy and turn into a puddle of love.
But I’m not going back, because I know in every fiber of my being, I love this woman. We may have been together for less than twenty-four hours, but I’ve loved her for years, and I know she feels the same.
So I get out of the truck, open the door for her, and help her step up into my front seat, where I already turned on the seat warmer for her.
“Are you going to sit outside while I take the class?” Willow says as she buckles her seatbelt.
Her floral, honeyed scent fills my senses, making me want to skip the class and drive her back to my cabin. Don’t think that would go over well, though.
“Nope. I’m taking it with you.”
“You’re going to take the jumping class with me?”
“Well, yeah.”
The look on her face is a mix of skepticism and amusement. I start up the vehicle, country music playing on the radio.
“So, where are we headed?” My thumbs tap on the steering wheel.
“Fitness & Rec.”
I nod once and drive toward the gym, Willow settling into my truck like the queen she is.
“Why is there a pink Owala in here?” She studies the cup holders where I placed two insulated sports bottles.
“It’s for you.”
She smiles, her cheeks tinging. “Interesting color.”
“Matches your toes and those fucking gorgeous pink flowers on your panties.”
I love it when she blushes. Reminds me of how she looked right after she came all over my face. I shift in my seat and adjust my dick, which is all of a sudden very hard.
She grabs the pink water bottle and takes a sip, looking down at my crotch. “Really, Cannon? Maybe I shouldn’t paint my toes at all.”
“Too late, Sunshine. That image is already seared into my brain. Nothing you can do about it.” I slide my arm along the back of her seat and toy with one of her curls. “I expect your garter at our wedding to be exactly that color.”
“Uh, what?” Willow sputters, a little water dribbling down her chin. She wipes it with a tissue from the console. “What did you say?”
“You heard me. This isn’t a proposal, Willow, but you and I both know that’s where this is headed.” I pull into a parking spot, turning toward my girl. “And someday, when you’re ready, I’m going to get down on one knee and ask you to be my wife.”
I pat her thigh, grab my bottle, and leave her open-mouthed as I hop out of the truck.
Fitness & Rec sits in one of those strip mall complexes off Main, wedged between a nail salon and a sandwich shop. The sign is at least fifteen years old and looks like nothing special from the outside.
Cold air bites at the back of my neck as we push through the door, and the warmth inside hits like a wall.
The inside has been completely remodeled since I was last here several years ago.
It has gray rubber flooring, crisp white walls with greenery throughout, and silver overhead lighting. Even the equipment is new.
I follow Willow into one of the classrooms, where I stop two feet in, staring at the medieval torture apparatuses affixed to the ceiling.
What the hell? Dangling from above are twelve suspension harnesses, eight of which are claimed by a room full of women.
Leona Williams, one of the gym owners, heads over. “Willow, nice to see you. Cannon, you’re here to take the bungee class?”
“Yep. Been excited all day.”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “Sure you have.” She winks at Willow, then strides over to other gym members.
We place our towels and bottles near the mirror and claim our spots. First, we have to step into leg loops, which I don’t even pretend to do as Willow bends over, her peach of an ass looking mighty fine.
“You don’t want a repeat of what happened in the truck, do you?”
She has a point. No need for the class to see how hard she makes me.
So, I step into the leg loops, securing and tightening the waist belt. We both attach the bungee cords with a carabiner clip and get used to moving with them. Well, I do. Willow’s a pro, apparently, and is already doing squats to warm up.
Leona shows us a series of maneuvers, starting with a simple squat. Seems pretty straightforward. I step forward to create tension in the bungee and crouch down, imitating her movements.
Once we get the hang of it, she moves to a simple forward fall. “Just let go. Lean into it. Enjoy the movement.”
And right as I lean forward, the older woman to my left slips, her legs flying out from under her.
Instinct kicks in, and I reach out to help, completely forgetting attached do a damn bungee harness.
As my weight shifts, the harness yanks me sideways, and suddenly I’m airborne.
I flip completely upside down, do a full 360-degree rotation, and bounce backward into the guy behind me.
Yes, another guy showed up. And he doesn’t look very happy that I’m here. We pinball off each other like we’re in some demented carnival ride, the older lady still spinning. I’m gripping the harness for dear life, my legs flailing, trying to find purchase on something, anything.
I’m a SEAL, dammit. I’ve jumped out of helicopters. I’ve breached hostile compounds. And here I am, bouncing around like a fucking tetherball while Willow laughs so hard tears stream down her cheeks.
Yep. That’s how it is, boys.
I finally right myself, understanding that it’s every man for himself in this jumping gym. Leona heads over, pushing my body into the correct position, showing me how to do the maneuver correctly. This time I catch on pretty quickly and jump and swing to the rhythm of the music like a boss.
By the time we finish the class, my abs are sore, my thighs hurt, and I’m sweating profusely along with everyone else. The workout reminds me of kettlebell squats, where you work everything out in a short period of time.
And my girl? I am impressed with what Sunshine can do. That girl’s got solid muscle paired with those curvy hips and thick thighs. And if she thought I was hard in the truck, she’d better hope I can wait till we’re alone before I peel her clothes off. I’m thinking shower sex is on the agenda.
We head over to the water bottles, drink our fill, and check our messages. Willow’s posture changes as she reads the screen, and I know instantly she’s gotten a message from her secret admirer. She shoves the phone at me, her phone open to social media. The motherfucker slid into her DMs.
Who’s that man you’re with? You were with some guy yesterday in a blue shirt and a cowboy hat. And today, you’re with that other guy, backwards baseball cap. I don’t like you being with other men. Willow, don’t they know you’re mine?
-J
“Stay right here.”
I head over to Leona. “Hey, do you happen to have access to any security video outside the gym?” The fact that this fucking motherfucking bastard has the audacity to slide into her DMs and claim her as his sets me on fire.
“I do. We have cameras both inside and outside the gym that are ours. Why do you ask?”
I explain briefly what’s going on. “I want to see if there are any cars that match the footage from the flower shop. Would you mind if I took a look?”
“No, not at all.” Leona’s face is tinged with concern.
I motion for Willow to join us, pulling her to my side. “Leona’s gonna let me check the camera footage.”
We head to one of the back offices where Lea logs into the computer and pulls up the video feed. She locates me and Willow entering the gym and checks the time before pulling up the outdoor footage.
I pause at a gray SUV that also showed up on the camera feed outside Stems & Blooms. The only reason I recognize it as the same is because of the rodeo stickers on the back window. There are four distinct stickers in the four corners of the window that Bennett’s algorithm isolated.
“Mind if I send a screenshot of this to myself?”
“Not at all.”
I take a picture, zooming in on a couple of angles. Unfortunately, the stickers and license plate aren’t clear.
Leona says, “I tell you what, how about I send a clip of this video to you?”
“Thanks, Lea. I’ve also told the chief about it, so I’m going to loop him in.”
“Anything you need. Willow, I am so sorry this is happening to you. I can’t believe it.”
“Thanks, Lea. Knowing there may be a connection between the two videos actually makes me feel like we’re getting closer to figuring out who this is.”
“Same.” I reach out and squeeze her shoulder.
Because one way or another, I’m going to find out who this motherfucker is, and he and I are going to have a talk where he learns why you don’t fuck with what’s mine.