Chapter 2
This is it, Luke's rabbit gasped before Emmy even introduced him to her new friend.
This is it. Oh my God. This is IT. This is HER.
This is OUR! FATED! MATE! Quick! Sweep her off her feet!
She's tiny! You're huge! You can do it! C'mon, Luke!
Go team go! You've been training for this for years! Make it count! Visualize the win!
Luke, a little desperately, said, Please shut up.
His rabbit gasped again and turned huge dark mournfully bunny eyes on Luke. You tell me to shut up? Me? Your biggest fan? The one who's always there for you? The one who's seen you through the worst times and the best times? Me? You tell me to shut up?
I can't talk to our fated mate if you don't stop talking!
I can't believe it's come to this. His rabbit turned away.
Luke was fairly certain that if its front legs were long enough, it would throw one over its eyes and collapse onto a chaise lounge.
Although he didn't think of himself as a man who had a chaise lounge in his mind.
Weight benches and yoga mats, maybe, but not chaise lounges.
Of course, he also didn't think of himself as a man who would throw himself on a chaise lounge to begin with, but that didn't stop his inner bunny from being just that sort of creature.
It bigged him up like nobody's business, for sure.
But it also took the slightest hint of rejection—or even the slightest suggestion that it chill out—as an enormous slight.
And now he was worried about his rabbit, when what he wanted to be thinking about was the woman his sister had just introduced him to.
Sabrina Keep looked like someone had packaged up joy into a bundle and put it in hot pink gym gear.
She was shorter than Emmy, which made her about five two, and Luke's first impression was that she was not a woman inclined to hide her light under a bushel: that hot pink outfit was made up of high-waist leggings that hugged her lower curves, and one of those long sports-bra type things that hugged the rest of them.
Luke wasn't sure he'd ever seen such a classic hourglass figure in real life.
She wore her hair in a raised braid along the crown of her head, blond and brown strands weaving together and falling between her shoulders, and if she'd been wearing makeup when she arrived at the gym, it had since sweated off.
She also looked mortified, because his incredibly helpful big sister had just volunteered him as a date for a destination wedding this weekend, and no reasonable person would ask that of someone they had literally just met.
Sabrina was stumbling through a rejection of the whole idea, and an apology, which Luke should very obviously laugh and accept and say something charming in response to.
Except what he said was, "I'm in."
Maybe not in those exact words. He didn't feel much clearer, mentally, than Sabrina seemed to be verbally.
But he was certain he agreed, because Emmy squealed, bounced up and down, clapped, and flung herself at him for a hug.
"I knew you'd say yes! You're an excellent brother!
" She released him and hugged Sabrina instead. "There! Now you're all set!"
Sabrina shook her head several times, harder each time. "Oh no. No no no, that would, that's insane, no I can't—"
"Oh, come on," Emmy said airily. "Look at him. You couldn't ask for a hotter fake boyfriend, could you."
Luke's rabbit twitched one ear toward the conversation as Sabrina, still visibly mortified, glanced at Luke and whispered, "Well, no, I mean, wow. I mean, excuse me, that's weird and rude of me to say," she added in a rush, now speaking to Luke. "But wow."
Aaaaaand we're back in the game!
We weren't out of the game! Luke protested, but his bunny wasn't listening.
It was…grooming. Flexing. Putting out very 'look at me, baby,' vibes, like it had been taking lessons from a certain flirtatious, fictional cartoon rabbit.
He tried hard to ignore it and pulled together what he hoped was one of his best smiles for Sabrina.
"Thanks. It's not rude, by the way. A little weird, I'll give you that, but let's be fair: my sister made it weird. "
Emmy said, "Hey!" but Sabrina laughed out loud, a surprisingly deep and rich laugh, and nodded.
"She really did. Look, maybe we should try this again without her interference. The introductions, I mean. Not the asking you to go to Vegas with me, that's insane."
"I am definitely all in," Luke said. "For Vegas, but also for a do-over. Emmy, you go over there." He waved a hand toward the yoga studio, which was as far from the free weights as could be in the gym. "I," he said to Sabrina, "am going to go back to the check-in desk, and you…?"
"I'll go back to finishing my set," she said with a grin. "I'm sure we can take it from there. Go, Emmy, give me a chance to get this right."
"Hmph!" Emmy flounced off. Granted, she only flounced as far as the leg press machine, not to the yoga studio, but at least she moved away.
Luke backed up until he was a respectable distance from the free weights and lifted his eyebrows at Sabrina.
She made a show of judging the distance, then gave him two thumbs up and lay down at the bench press again, flexing her fingers and fitting her hands around the bar for a decent grip.
The perfect, if obvious, pick-up line for a gym came to him, and he walked over to stand on the other side of the weight bar. "Hey. Need a spotter?"
She looked up at him past the bar, expression more critical and judging than he expected, given that this was a performative do-over. But then to his surprise, she said, "Sure, but why don't you load another twenty pounds on the bar, if I'm going to work with a spotter?"
"Twenty? Are you sure?" Luke went to do as he was told, adding ten pound weights to each end of the bar and coming back to stand above Sabrina while she adjusted her grip again.
"I'm sure. But I don't know if I can do a full set of eight at this weight. I know I can do four."
"You can do eight," Luke said with confidence. He cupped his hands beneath the bar, ready to take its weight if necessary, and with an unashamed, effortful grunt, Sabrina lifted the bar to start her reps.
She had fantastic upper arms, biceps and triceps standing out in terrific definition as she brought the bar down.
Luke almost forgot he was supposed to watch the weights, not her arms, or the way her face went red with concentration.
Only for a second: then he was back to business, counting the reps for her.
She'd been right: four was easy, but her arms were trembling by the end of the sixth.
"You can do it," he said again, confidently, and she blew out another hard breath as she lowered the bar for the seventh rep.
Luke braced in case she faltered and really did need his help, but she got through the seventh, then finished the set with another loud, effortful grunt.
Luke actually cheered as he took the bar's weight to guide it back into its fittings. Sabrina let her arms flop down and gasped a couple times, then groaned. "I'm never going to get to Vegas now."
"Your arms are too tired to make the flight?
" Luke flapped his elbows and Sabrina laughed, then sat up with yet another grunt.
She was so tiny and curvy and completely comfortable grunting, Luke thought with delight.
A lot of his female clients didn't want to look or sound like they were putting any effort in, but Emmy's friend apparently didn't mind at all.
"I like a man who recognizes the setup for a stupid joke," she said, flapping her own elbows, then offering her hand. "Thanks for the spot. I'm Sabrina."
"I'm always down for stupid jokes. Luke Jones." His huge hand enveloped Sabrina's, but her grip was steady and sturdy. "Nice job with the set."
"Thanks. I, ah. Haven't seen you around here before?" She screwed up her face, which was possibly the most adorable expression Luke had ever seen. "Wow, what a pick-up line. But it's true."
"I just got back to town last night," he said. "And you're new here, too. Not that I'm new here. I'm from Virtue. But you're not. I'd have noticed."
His bunny stared at him in despair. Christ, man, stop talking.
Make up your mind!
I didn't know you were going to sound like an idiot!
That was fair. Fortunately Sabrina either notice or didn't mind, because she was back to smiling broadly at him. "No, I just got here a few months ago and am only here through October—"
NOOOOOOOOO! WAIT! TELL HER SHE CANNOT LEAVE US! WE WILL BE IN DARKNESS AND DESPA—
Who should stop talking? Luke demanded. Aloud and trying not to sound as if he had a demented rabbit yelling in his head, he said, "Well, then, welcome to Virtue. What brings you to our little town? Wait. Am I interrupting your workout?"
"My arms are numb now, so I'm probably done. But am I getting in the way of yours?" Sabrina took a step back, apologetically, as if she'd forgotten they were trying a do-over conversation and really were just starting from scratch.
Luke had also almost forgotten that, honestly. He'd more or less forgotten everything in existence except Sabrina Keep's gorgeous dark brown eyes and sunny smile. He'd certainly forgotten about his intended workout, and blinked around the gym at her question.
That, unfortunately, brought Emmy back into view. His big sister, sitting on a weight bench a few feet away, was grinning like an idiot. Once she'd been noticed again, she gave him two exaggerated thumbs up and an equally exaggerated nod of encouragement.