Right Moves Read Online Free Page B

stack of magazines. Upon closer inspection, I discovered Jack had collected about two years’ worth of Scottsdale Live magazine, which would date right around the time I’d started writing for the monthly publication.
    “Busted.”
    His voice came from behind me and I jumped at the sound of it. Glancing over my shoulder, still wearing that ridiculous smile, I said, “Yes, you are. What are you doing with all these magazines?”
    “I confess, I’m a huge fan. Gwen brought an issue into the gym ten or twelve months ago and I read one of your features. I liked it so much, I ordered back copies of all your work. Well,” he admitted with a coy grin, “your picture at the end of each story was a big draw too.”
    I stared at him a moment, shocked. Through the lust-induced haze immediately created from his close proximity, I managed to latch on to a small nugget.
    “Ten or twelve months ago?” I asked. “And you just called me last week to work on an article?”
    “What can I say?” He gave a slight shrug that was both modest and charming. “I’m one of those deliberators. You know, the type who has to chew on something for months on end before I’ll act. That’s why it took so long to get my ass off the bench and work out so I could play ball. It’s why I waited until a year and a half ago to open ProAth, when I’d dreamed of doing it when I was twenty. It’s the reason I just had this house built, when I knew years ago where I wanted to live and what I wanted the house to look like. The moment has to be right for me.”
    “So… You were deliberating over me?” I wasn’t sure how to take that, exactly, but my heart seemed to find it a beautiful sentiment, because it beat a bit stronger, causing my pulse to race.
    Jack took my empty champagne glass from me and the now bare toothpick and set them on a side table. His warm hands engulfed the one of mine that had previously held the flute and he said, his jewel-toned eyes sparkling under the soft lighting, “The thing is, it takes me a really long time to make up my mind about something. But once I do… I’m all about getting the ball rolling.”
    “Huh.”
    I was fairly close to melting at his feet.
    He leaned toward me and I got another intoxicating sniff of his cologne and male heat. As he whispered in my ear, a tremor rippled through my body. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let me show you around, okay?”
    I nodded. It wasn’t that I was totally at a loss for words. I simply didn’t want to ruin such a perfect moment, and I was innately inclined to do such when thrown for a loop. So I let him wrap my fingers around the hard biceps of one of his arms. He covered my hand with his again as it gripped his muscles and we were off, touring his magnificent home. The gourmet kitchen was to die for, though he admitted lacking culinary skills. Cooking classes were on his to-do list.
    The living room was a vast, open expanse of hardwood floor and strategically placed furniture. With a self-deprecating laugh, he said, “Way over the top, isn’t it?”
    “Yes. But I like it.”
    He introduced me to his friends and clients, all of them quite obviously big fans of his. That wasn’t a surprise to me, but it was nice to see how favorably people responded to Jack. He was just as courteous and respectful in turn, and I liked him even more for his social grace.
    We wound our way through the partygoers and strolled out to the enormous back terrace.
    “This is what I wanted to show you most,” he told me.
    He led me across the redwood deck—where patio furniture, an outdoor kitchen and a large fire pit were in high demand—to the glass-and-steel railing that encompassed the deck. Miles and miles of city lights stretched before us, but we were surrounded on the sides and behind us by mountains.
    It was a heart-stopping vision.
    A bit awestruck, I jokingly said, “I thought the Four Seasons Resort had the corner market on this view.”
    “They allowed me a