Hit & Run Bride (Hit & Run Bride Contemporary Romance Series) (2 page)

What kind of question was that? “Of course I love him.”

“Then everything else is fixable.”

Becca glanced down at the ring. Vanessa was right. She had Holden. Anything else didn’t matter.

Except you’re forgetting you can’t swim, silly
.

Oh shit
. She groaned. “Everything is not going to be okay.”

“What do you mean? Wait a week or so, then talk to him about the ring, and you can tell him you won’t have enough time to train for the Ironman. Because, honestly, only crazy people do that race. It’ll be okay.”

Becca shook her head. “No, you don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand?”

She sighed. “I can’t swim.”

Vanessa frowned. “What?”

“You heard me. I can’t swim. So Kona, with its great water sports, surfing, and lots of swimming is pretty much a nightmare for me.”

“Oh, shit.”

Becca nodded. “Yep. I’m screwed. I have to tell him. He’s going to be so disappointed. He did all this work to plan it.”

“Well, let’s be honest. He’s been wanting to do the Kona Ironman for a while. It just happens to fit the timeline.”

“Still doesn’t solve my problem. You know him—he loves all this outdoor stuff. Anywhere we go, he’s going to want to swim with sharks or dolphins or whatever. What am I supposed to do, sit on the sidelines and let my new husband enjoy our honeymoon without me?”

Vanessa chewed her bottom lip. “You can always learn to swim.”

“How? Are you going to show me? Neither one of us have pools at our condos.”

“No, at the Del Mar Athletic Club. They do adult swim classes. That way, even if you don’t get out of going to Kona, you don’t have to fear your honeymoon. And Holden will be none the wiser.”

Adult swim classes. She could do that. And no one would ever have to know. “Van, you’re a genius.”

Chapter Two

This may have been a mistake
. Liam Caldwell watched the second top swim coach in the United States, and his father’s biggest competitor, stalk around the edge of the pool as he studied one of Liam’s trainees.

When he reached him, Manny Bristol held out a hand. “Liam, how are you?”

“Fine, sir.” They shook hands and had to raise their voices over the sounds of the kids in the pool, laughing and screaming and having a good time. “Glad you could make it down from L.A.”

“I have to admit I was surprised to get your message. Which kid is it?”

Liam spotted Henry and pointed him out. “Breaststroke time is 2:59. Backstroke is 2:36. For thirteen, he’s faster than anyone I’ve ever trained.”

Manny glanced around the inner city pool and gave a shrug. “This your new gig? Coaching...kids?”

Liam had other jobs, real jobs. Taking care of his mom while she was dealing with cancer and her treatments was his most important at the moment. Everything else—his plans for the future, women, dealing with his father—had to wait. “I volunteer here three days a week for an afterschool program. In the past three months, Henry’s gone from dog paddling to ripping through the water like a pro.”

“Your father’s not interested?”

Jonathan Caldwell, coach to multiple swimmers who’d gone on to medal at the Olympics, didn’t know the kid existed. “He’s got a full stable right now.”

Manny crossed his arms and scowled at the pool. “If you’re playing your dad…”

“Henry needs the right coach, is all.” It wasn’t a total lie. “His personality is better suited to your coaching style.”

A long pause, then Manny nodded. “Let’s see what the kid’s got.”

Liam blew his whistle, three short blasts, and the kids in the pool climbed out. He’d explained to his group about Manny and his training center in L.A. That this was an opportunity for Henry that could put him on the road to the Olympics.
And get him out of his hellhole of a home life.
“Henry, whenever you’re ready. Freestyle.”

The kid, all skinny arms and legs, pulled on his swim cap, shook out his hands. They didn’t have blocks so he had to take off from the side. Liam held up his hand, set his stopwatch, counted to three, and blew the whistle.

Henry shot into the pool, those skinny arms cutting through the water like a missile. Then the kid started stroking, and everyone in the place watched, totally mesmerized.

Two laps down and back. Time: 1:10.

Manny nodded, seemingly unimpressed. The fact he didn’t walk out told Liam differently.

Next, Liam had Henry do his breaststroke. Another decent showing. Last—he’d saved the best for the finale—he had Henry backstroke.

By the time the kid hauled himself out of the water, he was breathing hard.

And Manny was smiling.

“Nice work, Henry.” Manny bent over slightly to shake the kid’s hand. “Let me talk to Liam, and then you and I’ll have a powwow. How does that sound?”

Henry ran to his friends, and Liam whistled for all of them to jump back in. Once more, the sound of kids having a great time in the pool echoed from the high ceiling.

Liam signaled his helpers to keep eyes on the kids as he led Manny to his dinky office.

The big man slumped into the visitor seat as Liam sat behind the old metal desk. “He’s got potential, I’ll give you that.”

Liam grinned. “He’s got damn good potential, and you know it. All he needs is proper training.”

“Training costs money.”

Money kids like Henry didn’t have. “I’ll take care of his expenses.”

“His parents okay with him moving to L.A. and living at my center?”

Henry’s father was in the wind. His mom had four other kids and a drinking problem. “Mom’s already signed an agreement.”

Manny rubbed a hand over his chin. “You sure your dad doesn’t want him?”

Funny that Manny cared what Jonathan wanted. Liam shook his head. “Like I said, you’re better suited for Henry.”

“Why don’t you train him?”

Because I have other priorities
. “Not my gig.”

“I don’t want your old man to think I’m poaching.”

Territories. What bullshit. “This isn’t about you and my father. This is about Henry. He deserves a shot.”

Another long pause. Manny stood. “Give me two days. I’ll be in touch with some details. I want to see the kid swim in
my
pool if you can get his scrawny ass up to L.A.”

“Done.” Liam stood as well, and they exchanged another handshake. “I’ll make sure he gets there.”

“Bring your trunks. You can swim for me too.”

Now
that
would give his old man a heart attack. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I’d just embarrass myself.”

Manny left, stopping to chat a minute with Henry. Afterward, Liam shared the news with Henry and his friends. The kids cheered, slapping Henry on the back and dunking him under the water.

Twenty minutes later, Liam left the pool with hope in his heart that Henry had a shot at fulfilling a dream. A dream Liam had never realized. He jumped on his Yamaha and headed for his next job. One that actually paid. Not that he needed the money. And thank goodness for that since a full-time paying job would take too much time away from his mother. Her health had to come first. With his Dad always busy at the training center, and his older brother Oliver living in Canada, the only person around every day was Liam. Putting his life on hold sucked, but losing his mother would bring his world crashing down.

Swimming was his passion, but he was loath to swim or coach for his dad. Before his mother got sick, Liam had loved his job as an architect for Leesom and Sons, and had found a side niche creating interactive videos to help clients visualize renovations and new builds. If things worked out down the road and Liam was able to return to his old job, Mr. Leesom wanted him to develop apps for the firm as well.

As he crossed into Del Mar, he steeled himself for a night of teaching swim lessons to a different type of group. A group that wouldn’t give Henry and his friends a second glance.

As usual, the Del Mar Athletic Club parking lot was jam-packed. Women in top-of-the-line sports clothes and wearing enough diamonds to sink the Titanic hustled in and out the front doors. Some on their way to Pilates, others to the gym.

Glimpsing a lone open space at the far corner of the lot, he double-timed it. He was already late for his class. The club manager would not be impressed.

He hit the gas, and too late, saw a car coming from the other direction with the same intention. He curved and braked, halfway into the parking space when the owner of the car saw him. Her eyes popped wide and her mouth formed a perfect O as she slammed on her brakes. Her front bumper connected with his rear tire, sending him careening into the curb.

His back wheel went sideways but he saved the bike from going down. Killing the engine, he parked the bike and hopped off to look at the damage.

Great. Just what he needed. The wheel was okay, with only some paint scraped off the fender, but she’d over-steered, trying to avoid him and bumped into the end of the bike rack sitting there, creasing her front bumper. His motorcycle wasn’t anything special—but she was driving a Mercedes CLA. A lower end model, but still, they’d have to replace the entire bumper for that little crease. Luckily, she didn’t appear to be hurt. Her air bag hadn’t even gone off.

But he was definitely going to be late for class.

The woman put the car in park, the front end half up on the curb and the back hanging out of the parking space. “I’m so sorry,” she said, bailing out and frowning at the scrapes on his fender. “You came out of nowhere. You really should slow down.”

He turned to give her an earful and fell silent. She was barely five foot two. Dark brown curly hair fell in waves around her face. She had dark brown eyes. And curves. Jesus, God, the woman had beautiful curves.

She wasn’t the usual type the Athletic Club attracted, but he needed to hold his tongue. Telling off a client wasn’t good business, and the club manager would hear about it if he said anything out of line. “My fault. Give me your number, and I’ll have my insurance take care of it.”

She hesitated. “I don’t give my number out to strangers.”

“You ran into me, and I’m offering to take care of the damages. What’s the problem?”

“I wouldn’t have run into you if you hadn’t stolen my parking space right out from under me.”

“I didn’t steal the space, and I’m going to be late to class. How about if I leave my contact information at the front desk, and you can do what you like about getting your car fixed?”

“You’re not the only one who’s late here. Look, aren’t we supposed to wait for the police or something?”

“Police don’t give tickets in a parking lot fender-bender. It’s your word against mine, and right now, my word is that you ran into me, so even if they did show up, they’d ticket you.” Her look of consternation made him soften. “I’ve got to go. I work here, so you know where to find me if you want me to cover the bill. That’s the best I can offer.”

He hiked up the straps of his backpack and took off at a slow jog. Of course, the parking lot was half a mile long. He’d made it halfway to the front door when he heard footsteps running behind him.

She was breathing heavy. “Hey, you can’t just…” She huffed and held up a hand. “Run off. I’m not done with you.” She put a hand on her stomach and dragged in several more labored breaths. “You admitted guilt. So they’d give
you
the ticket.”

Admitted guilt? Jeez, what had he gotten himself into? “Are you okay?”

She waved a petite hand in the air and bent at the waist. “Why does running hurt so much, damn it? Leave your information, and I’ll grab it after my class.”

Of course, he felt sorry for her. With her fancy car…he doubted she had a care in the world. But hells bells, she was out of shape. He couldn’t exactly leave her gasping for air...she might accuse him of giving her a heart attack.

He wanted to take her arm, help her up. Best not to. She might add
inappropriate touching
to his list of offenses. And damn it if he didn’t want to touch her.

“Do you need help inside?” he asked instead.

“No, I’m fine. Nothing a latte and a Snickers won’t fix. Seriously, who chooses to run for fun?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “What are doing here at a gym if you don’t like exercise?”

“Oh, you know, just signed myself up for some self-induced torture.”

Looked like exercise might do her good. “Give it a chance. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

She gave him a doubtful look and slowly walked away. “I’ll hold you to that. And to fixing my car,” she called over her shoulder.

She had a nice ass, he’d give her that. And a nice rack.

Heading through the front doors, he gave Melody at the front desk a nod. “Hey, Mel.”

She smiled, her artificially whitened teeth nearly blinding him. “Liam! Thought you’d never get here.”

“There’s a gal who may come looking for my information. Petite brunette, curly hair, brown eyes.”
Beautiful light brown skin that has never seen the inside of a tanning bed.
“In need of some cardio classes. Make sure she gets my number, okay?”