Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
He was out of his shoes and socks in seconds, and before I knew it, we stood side by side, facing Max and Sutton across the mat.
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Jeanine said from the couch as Seline slipped into her lap.
“My money is on Max,” Scott remarked, leaning against the wall next to Theo.
“I never bet against Weston,” Theo replied.
“You sure about this?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” He rolled his shoulders as Maria spun the dial.
“Right foot, red!”
We all moved. I took the circle in front of the one Weston claimed, and my ass brushed against him. My pulse jumped. Bad idea. This is such a bad idea.
Weston didn’t seem to notice, thank God, and within three spins, we were a contorted mess on the mat.
“I didn’t know you had that kind of flexibility, West,” Theo said with a laugh as Weston’s foot moved to right foot blue on the circle just beneath mine.
Weston shot Theo a four-letter look.
“I’m going to seriously need some Motrin after this.” I’d gotten myself into a predicament. My feet were on blue and red, and my hands were behind me, both on yellow, leaving me twisted to the side, while Weston held the same position but had done it leaning forward so part of his body hovered above mine.
“Come on, Mom, you can make it!” Sutton called from the other side of the mat.
“Oh, you’re making it,” Weston said from above me, pure challenge in his eyes. “We’re winning.”
“Competitive, aren’t you?” My left shoulder was killing me.
A corner of his mouth lifted into the sexiest smirk I’d ever seen. “You have no idea.”
“Right hand, red!” Maria called out.
I glared toward the couch. “You’re kidding me, right?”
Sutton squealed with laughter, and I could hear the kids shifting on the mat.
“Nope.” Maria chuckled, turning the spinner so we could see it.
I was going to have to throw my right hand across my body and pivot all my weight into a crab position.
Weston’s brows furrowed. “You’re going to have to move first. I have an idea. We can touch each other, right? Just not the mat?” he asked Maria.
“Yep,” she answered, fully enjoying our situation. “And members of the same team can share the same circle.”
“You go first, bend your back, and I’ll go for the circle above you.”
A grin pulled at my lips at the intensity of his focus. “You know it’s just a game, right?”
“A game we’re winning.”
“A game you’re losing if you don’t move,” Scott added.
“On three.” I took a deep breath. “One. Two. Three!” I lifted my right hand and threw it toward red, landing on the second circle and somehow managing to keep my ass in the air. “Who needs CrossFit when you can play Twister?”
Weston smiled. He really, actually smiled, and I almost lost my balance. He was gorgeous while broody and serious, but smiling? He was beautiful. Even his eyes joined in, the tiny gold flecks of amber in those dark depths shining brilliantly.
“West, you have to move,” Maria said.
“Yeah, yeah.” He balanced all his weight on his left arm and then crossed his right underneath, just above my head.
It had to be illegal for a guy to smell this good. I didn’t know what kind of cologne he wore, but it was definitely working for him. Was that pine? Ocean? Pheromones? His chest was only inches away from my nose, and I was happy to stay there forever, or until my legs began cramping. Whatever.
Every muscle in my body started to tremble.
“Spin, Maria!” Weston barked, as if he could feel how close I was to falling.
“Right hand, red!”
“It’s already on red!” we shouted at the same time.
The kids laughed. Flexible little fiends.
“Right foot, yellow!”
“She’s trying to kill me,” I whispered.
Weston’s chest shook with laughter above me, and he adjusted his stance.
Balancing my weight, I slid my right foot under my left, searching for the circle, but it was no good. My shoulder buckled, threatening to slide out of joint, and I yelped as I fell.
I never hit the mat.
Weston’s arm was around me, his hand splayed out under my back, holding all my weight as my legs crossed underneath him. My chest was against his and his face was inches from mine. “You okay?”
Was I okay? The man was spread out all over the mat and still managed to hold me up, and he was asking if I was okay? “My shoulder gave out.”
“But you’re okay?” he asked, his voice dipping low, concern furrowing his brow as he held me tighter against him.
“I’m okay,” I answered, my pulse skyrocketing as heat flushed every inch of my skin.
“We won!” Sutton shouted, jumping to her feet.
Weston sighed. “I guess they did. We’ll never live it down,” he whispered.
“We’ll ask them for a rematch some other night,” I promised, my gaze dropping to his mouth. It was so close to mine that I could just lean up and—