Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,5

like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Her hair is long, almost to her waist despite being pulled into a ponytail, alternating in streaks of rich brown and deep mahogany red.

Her eyes are the ever-changing gray of storm clouds and fringed with dark lashes. If she wears any makeup, it’s too natural for me to see it.

I tighten every muscle in my body involuntarily, realizing that even in my outrageously fit state, I pale in comparison to many of the bronzed gods throughout the room. And judging by their interest in her, she can have any one of them she wants.

She’s dressed in a no-nonsense black tank and gray yoga pants. She might not be muscular like the other women, but every inch is toned. In this room of dark shining skin, she is a perfect pale moon.

Only when Franklin lets out a feral growl do I realize he’s practically challenging every man who might be looking at his sister. Thankfully, his angry gaze targets the crowd and not the best friend behind his back.

I blink a few times to clear my horn-dog expression and give her a quick nod. “You must be Camryn,” I say, since Franklin is too involved in his glaring matches to introduce us. “Apparently, I screwed up.”

Franklin snaps to attention at that. “Ride ‘em Shiny,” he tells her.

Camryn shifts her weight to one hip, cocking it out in an are you kidding me stance. “How bad is it?”

“Turn around,” Franklin orders.

I’m holding everything tight and suck it in even harder as I pivot in a half-circle, my jacket and bag clutched in my fist.

“Good Lord,” she whispers.

This lets the air out of my sails, and I relax my muscles in defeat. “Can you fix it?”

Her voice is sharp. “I have exactly negative two minutes to get to my next paying client, but yes, I can fix it.”

My manners tell me to let her off the hook, to learn my lesson and take the loss in points. But before I can say a word, her finger presses against my spine.

“Back into your rear lat pose,” Camryn barks. “Don’t let up until I say so.”

Her tone could make a drill sergeant stand at attention. I tighten back up. The spread of something creamy cools the middle of my back.

“You’ve got at least six pale blotches back here. When you step on stage, they’ll blast like headlights if we don’t fix them.” Her fingers trail across my shoulders, and an airy floral scent hits my senses. I take her in, the smell, the touch, the memory of her face and luscious hair.

It’s a total sensory assault.

I stay fixed in a hard flex. Every muscle burns, but I can handle it. It’ll get a hell of a lot worse when I’m on stage and have to hold position until the judges finish their comparisons. I have this terrible need to impress her, even if I’m way down the list of winning candidates in this crowd.

People move around us, a few pausing to comment on her work. Camryn shifts to my side and a soft breast brushes against my bicep. Her eyes flit up to meet mine, and I’m a goner. Hook. Line. Sinker. I can barely swallow, and if my mouth was dry before, it’s the floor of the desert now.

“I’m going to work on your neck while the back dries. It’s a mess,” she says.

I stand there, chin up, feeling every inch of her near me. It’s been a while since I’ve dated anybody. First it was the deli taking all my time, then my fitness obsession. I’m constantly running to New York for one thing or another, and recently I had to head to the French Riviera to knock some sense into my brother.

I could stand the company of a woman in my life.

Maybe this one.

Something clunks the back of my skull, and I realize it’s the round end of a brush. “Stop sweating,” Camryn commands.

I feel a trickle on my temple. She’s right, but how am I supposed to stop? Standing this close to her is making me perspire like a man on death row.

Franklin comes around to my front. “They’re calling my class. I have to pump. Knock ‘em dead, Max. Camryn will fix you right up.”

“You too, man. I’ll be cheering from the side when I’m done here.”

Franklin’s eyes quickly dart to his sister, then me, but he gives me a quick nod. “See you after.”

Camryn’s work feels even more awkward with Franklin gone. I