Be Mine (2 page)

Still, she enjoyed the three day a week distraction and the calm she felt while on the yoga mat from her usual work and single life. She’d become increasingly stronger as she mastered the poses and unusually flexible. She was proud of her twenty-five year old toned body. She looked like a rock star in her yoga clothes, easily displaying ripped ab muscles and defined arms and legs. She’d convinced herself the outward armor concealed her inner loneliness. It was a lie.

As she packed up for the night and pulled her long chestnut brown hair into a messy ponytail, she noticed something from the corner of her eye.

Seeing shadows wasn’t anything new for Ellen. She’d felt like she was being watched or followed since the death of her husband, but when she looked up from tying her tennis shoe, she saw him – and he
wasn’t
a shadow. He walked toward her as if they were acquaintances, but she was positive she didn’t know him.

“I wanted to tell you that you have an amazing Salamba Sirasana,” he said with a huge grin as he nervously shoved his hands into his pockets.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked with a giggle, wondering if she’d heard him correctly.

“Your supported headstand. It’s a struggle for me, so when I come out of it early, I can see all the people who’ve mastered it. Yours is spectacular. I’m Penn Scott, by the way.”

She took a beat, and looked at his outstretched hand hanging in the air. “Ellen Temple.” She smiled and shook his hand.

“Can I buy you a water? Maybe a smoothie? You can explain your technique.”

Ellen hesitated. She didn’t think he was weird or dangerous. In fact, he was handsome. Penn Scott was tall, muscular and sported a completely shaven head which only accentuated his defined shoulder and arm muscles. She thought that a man with biceps as big as his should be able to do any yoga pose he wanted. “It’s late and I really should be getting home.”

“I understand,” Penn said dropping his head and smile as his hands rushed back into the refuge of his pockets.

Ellen knew she’d hurt his feelings. She took a deep breath, feeling guilty enough to concede. “I guess we could go to the Starbucks around the corner for a black tea or something.”

Penn’s head lifted and the brilliant smile he’d introduced himself with returned.

Ellen rolled her yoga mat, slipped it into her duffle and stood to leave. It was then that she noticed Penn’s very blue eyes.

“Let me take your bag,” he offered.

“It’s okay. I like carrying my stuff. Makes me feel responsible for my own life. You know?”

“Sure. I mean, I guess,” he said with a puzzled but understanding look.

Penn had been eyeing Ellen in class for months. A well-known and skilled chiropractor in town, he’d even been shushed by the instructor when he asked a friend for her name.

“So what is it that you do, Miss Temple? Or may I call you Ellen?”

Ellen brushed the hair from her smile as the winter wind kicked up on the downtown street. She enjoyed his manners and thought he was charming in an old school sort of way. Her late husband, a true soldier and badass in his own right, had spoiled her to other men. Continually looking out for her and her best interest, he always had her
six
. It was one of the things she missed. Knowing that someone always had her back. “Please, call me Ellen.”

“What is it you do, Ellen? I mean besides kick everyone’s butt in yoga class?”

“I’m a graphic designer. I work for Montgomery Media.”

“That’s cool,” he replied. “I think I’ve read an article about you guys. Some young hotshot runs the place, right? Seems really smart.”

“Mike Montgomery.”

“Yeah. That’s him.”

“Mike is all work and no play.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a brilliant designer and businessman.”

“If you love what you do, work can seem like play.”

“If that’s true he’s partying every day in the office,” Ellen quipped.

Penn snorted at her wry joke.

“Penn Scott.” she enunciated, wanting to change the subject from her boss.

“That’s me.”

“What do you do, Penn Scott?”

“I like the way you say my name. It makes me seem way more important than I am.”

Penn smiled and raised his eyebrows, causing his entire head to wrinkle ever so slightly. It made his head look as muscular as the rest of him. Overall he had the tough exterior of a real man, but his adorable smile and baby blue eyes gave him a sweet boyish look that Ellen instantly liked.

“I’m a chiropractor. But not a weird ‘I’m gonna cure all your ailments by cracking your head seven ways to Sunday’ kind of chiropractor.”

“Seriously?” Ellen questioned with a smile of astonishment. “Where’ve
you
been the last two years, Dr. Scott? I’ve lived most of my adult life with knots in my trapezius muscles. I even had a masseuse tell me she thought I had ‘raccoons in my traps.’ Too much time at the desk I suppose.”

“Please, I’m not Dr. Scott. My patients call me ‘Dr. Penn’, or ‘Hey, you in the white coat’.”

“So you don’t take yourself too seriously,” Ellen giggled.

“Ah, no,” he shook his head and smiled. “Raccoons in your traps, huh?”

“That’s what she said.”

“What’s a joint like you doing in a girl like this? Sorry. Chiropractor humor isn’t that funny.”

Ellen quickly responded with a chuckle as she placed her hand gracefully over her mouth and laughed. “Maybe not. But
you’re
pretty hilarious.”

Penn gave a protested shrug and gawky laugh. He’d always thought of himself as a humorous guy, and he liked it that Ellen thought so too.

She shifted the heavy bag on her shoulder, letting out a tiny groan. “Ugh. So if you’re a chiropractor and I’m in knots all the time, is this where I’m supposed to ask, ‘Where’ve you been all my life?’”

“Well, I’ve been in the back of the room for at least six months,” he laughed, feeding off her energy. “You’re one of the overachievers in the front.”

As they made the turn for Starbucks, Penn secretly hoped he wouldn’t run into his sister, but figured he was safe considering she usually worked mornings before her classes at the local university.

Penn escorted her into the busy coffee shop and smiled as he watched her read the menu board. Her hairline was still damp with perspiration and Penn found her extremely sexy. She was beautiful and tough. Just the way he liked his women.

“Ellen, what would you like? A bottled water? A green tea?”

“I’ll have an iced black tea,” she said. “
And
a bottled water. If that’s okay.”

“It’s absolutely okay. You may order whatever you’d like. I mean, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I dream about the scones in the glass case, but I’ll save myself from that embarrassment tonight. No one needs to see a grown man scarf a pastry in two bites.”

“I wouldn’t be offended. Believe me, I watched my late husband down more than one of those pastries at a time.”

Penn gave her a sweet smile and turned back to the menu, wanting to choose his next words carefully. “I’m really sorry, Ellen. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. I wouldn’t expect you to know. It’s okay. He was a Marine. He died in Afghanistan.”

“You seem really together over the whole thing. I don’t how I’d carry on if I lost someone…like that. I mean, that way.”

“You do what you have to,” she sighed. “The rest is out of your hands.”

“Don’t let this big man frame fool you. Underneath I’m probably a bigger pile of mush than most women.”

“So it’s all a tough guy act?” she asked with a wink.

Ellen’s comment caught Penn off guard and he could feel the blood rush to his face and naked head. “I’m tough,” he said quietly. “I’m just soft…inside.”

“Hmmm, a big softy who could kick someone’s ass.”

He ignored, yet smiled at her remark and escorted her to a table in the corner by a window. He wanted to point out interesting happenings on the street in case he found himself with a lack of words in Ellen’s presence. Her natural beauty was only eclipsed by her effortless charm.

“Ever notice how people seem so unhappy in the winter?” Penn mused, watching the bustle outside.

“It’s the weather. Not enough sunlight. But at the same time, how can you appreciate the spring if you never suffer through the winter?”

Penn nodded, agreeing with her profound statement. “True. Which explains why the people in L.A. are nuts. Sunny and seventy-two every day can’t be good for you in the long run.”

Ellen laughed and Penn watched her fidget in her seat. He worried that maybe he was talking too much and decided to focus on her. “What do you design? Ads? Billboards? Multimedia campaigns?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know if she was a woman of few words or if she was suddenly bored.

“I’ve always thought it would be fun to do ad campaigns,” Penn admitted.

“It’s not as glamorous as you might think – long hours, cranky clients not knowing what they want. You take a shot in the dark, choose a direction and make a presentation. At that point they
still
don’t know what they want. But they
don’t
want what you’ve shown them.”

“Sounds frustrating. I get the clients who want to know why they aren’t getting better when they don’t follow orders. Sometimes I want to shout, ‘Get off the damn couch!’”

She nodded and took another sip of her black tea and stared out the window. Penn knew he shouldn’t keep her, but he didn’t want to let her go.

“I guess every job has its frustrations,” Ellen added.

“Unless you’re a yoga instructor. I mean that’s just centering all day long. If I remained
that
relaxed and into my chi? I’d go into a coma.”

“Still funny,” Ellen giggled from across the table.

Penn’s face lit up again at her compliment. He wanted to keep making her laugh all night. She was even more beautiful when she smiled.

“I should probably get going. Thanks for the tea,” she said as she slung her bag and mat over her shoulder.

“Anytime,” Penn smiled as he rose to his feet to meet her. “May I see you again on Wednesday?”

Ellen dropped her head for only a moment and paused, “I’ll be in class again on Wednesday if that’s what you mean.”

“That’s exactly what I meant.”

He took Ellen’s hand in his and gave it a friendly shake. It was soft and strong. Feeling her skin gave Penn a charge as he carefully slipped his fingers from hers.

“Thanks again,” she smiled.

He lingered close to her warm body without touching her. “My pleasure. See you Wednesday.”

Penn watched and Ellen gave him a fleeting glance as she pushed open the glass door. He leaned back in the chair, causing it to moan, crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a wink.

Ellen looked back at Penn through the glass window and pulled her coat tightly around her neck as a warm feeling flooded her face. Ellen Temple was blushing. Something she hadn’t done in years.

L
exi Scott rushed after class to get to her dorm. She wanted to have time to change from her school clothes and into something more appropriate for the concert she was attending.

Lexi loved classical music. Other college girls her age were into rock and roll, rap and the whining of the latest singer/songwriter. It wasn’t that she didn’t like that type of music, or her men edgy and cool. Lexi was attracted to guys with the ability to play anything with strings. And since her preference was Mozart, it was usually the boys in the symphony who could make her think naughty thoughts. Her fear of commitment always kept her from acting on any of her urges – naughty or otherwise.

Tonight, Lexi was fueling her need for the classics by attending a concert given by the university’s highly touted string quartet. Not only was it part of her Classics Music class to attend and write a summary of a performance, she loved the way the music put her into a calm state of mind.

She took a seat all alone, unsuccessful in drafting any of her roommates to join her for the evening.

The crowd consisted of mostly older university patrons who, because of their donation to the music department, were either listed in the program or on the outside of building. University donors never missed an opportunity to see their money at work.

Lexi took a seat in the back of the elegant but small atrium. As the quartet began to play, she closed her eyes and allowed the music to wash over her. It was beautiful, and she didn’t need to look at her program to know the piece was Bach’s
Air
.

The quartet finished the first selection to a round of applause and began their second piece. Glancing up, she checked out the musicians a little closer, noticing they were all female with the exception of the cello player. Lexi immediately thought he was handsome.

He had dark hair that was long in a West Coast surfer kind of way. His loose curls were brushed back and away from his face, but still moved as he rhythmically bobbed his head. He was passionate about the notes he played, and the way he carefully cradled the cello while emitting tremendous energy made Lexi think he knew how to hold a girl in his arms.

As the quartet finished, Lexi looked around the room and decided she might be the only one who wasn’t asleep, as evidenced by being the first one to stand and applaud.

Cellist, Tom Brooks appreciated the approval of the quartet’s performance. He enjoyed taking a bow. It was his favorite part of being a musician – an adoring audience that validated his existence.

As Tom righted himself from his obligatory acknowledgement, he caught Lexi staring through him. He liked her watching him so intently and gave her a sly smile to let her know.

Embarrassed that she’d been caught looking, Lexi glanced down and away, snatching her purse and program from her seat, eager to make a quick exit.

She was expeditious in her path to the ladies room, hoping to freshen up and make a clean getaway from the auditorium. She primped in the mirror, running her hands through her long dark hair and applied lip balm, dabbing her mouth lightly with her middle finger. Pulling her stylish hat over her ears, she glanced at the brown eyes that had made many a boy swoon in the last few years, but none that she was even remotely interested in. In Lexi’s experience, college men had been either extremely good looking, smart, self-centered and gay, or extremely good looking, smart, self-centered and an ass. She proclaimed to the world that she didn’t have time for love and kept her feelings to herself.