Excerpt:

 “Why are you in the gym?”

“Because I feel like working out, Marisol.”

“Damn, dude,” she drew out. “Sorry, I just figured you would want to get some rest after mixing it up with that perp earlier. Or if not rest, maybe a nice, cold brew at Wilhagan’s.”

“Nope.” Tommy answered and performed another leg press. It burned. Hell it burned a lot, but he didn’t care. Maybe he could drive himself hard enough to make his mind go blissfully blank. If exercise didn’t work, he’d go home alone where a bottle of Bushmill’s would. The last thing he needed was to drink beer at a bar when he was still wound like a bedspring. He’d be breaking open his stitches on the first guy who rubbed him the wrong way, and someone always rubbed him the wrong way at Wilhagan’s.  Drinking Irish redheads with tempers didn’t always like jokes about drinking Irish redheads with tempers. Maybe he should go. The side of his mouth curled into a smile.

“That’s a scary smile.”

Tommy steeled himself and pressed the weight once more. With a sideways glance, he said, “You don’t sound scared.”

“No, I guess scared isn’t what I am.”

He never should have said anything. There was no point in flirting with her. He stood. “Don’t you have something to do?”

“I could,” she stretched the words out, filled them with meaning, and stood straight and close to him.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Tommy, I—“

“Marisol,” he grabbed her wrists before she could put her hands on his face. He couldn’t let her touch him. It would lead to a really, really fucked up situation for the both of them.

Maybe she had caught him looking. Hell, he had been looking. After all, she was formed exactly how he liked his women formed. Or, almost exactly. Caramel skin. Long, curly black hair. Luscious lips. High breasts. A small waist. A tall, slender body with legs so long they just wouldn’t stop. She smelled sweet and tart, like flowers and berries. She smelled so good and she was so, so willing.  But her eyes were a pretty amber brown, not… blue. “Make up with Carmen. He loves you. I’m more trouble than you deserve.”

Tommy winced when his last sentence seemed to excite her. She studied his face, licked her lips, shifted closer to him. Why was it every time he told a woman he was no good for her, she seemed to just want him all the more? “I’m serious. You don’t want any part of me.”

She came closer and tilted her head down toward him. Marisol was taller than Tommy. Another trait in the woman’s favor. Plus, she really was pretty. And in this world, he was top dog, no need to compete for her.

Gentle but firm hands set her away. “Carmen.”

She swallowed finally, nodding. “I’m sorry, Tommy, I just thought…”

“It’s OK, Marisol.” Maybe if they’d met some other time. But when? It had always been her, the blue-eyed her. “We’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

She nodded again then turned away, leaving that isolated section of the gym.

Tommy watched her go, thankful she hadn’t noticed his erection. How would he ever explain that it wasn’t really for her?