She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2 Read Online Free

wanting her was the worst yet.
    But thanks to Sara, who taught physical education for a living and worked out as a second religion, Carlie now knew that getting her body moving hard enough to break a sweat was a much better option for dealing with anger and hurt than overeating. She always felt great afterward, and it made her pants looser instead of tighter, whereas a sugar-and-fat hangover would leave her feeling like one of the slugs that occasionally slithered out of the manicured garden borders onto her condo patio.
    She fixed a bowl of granola and blueberries to eat while she changed into a pair of black shorts, sturdy black sports bra and pink exercise tank piped in black. She paused in front of the long mirror in the hallway between her bedroom and bath, turning to look at herself from the side. Seemed like her stomach stuck out less than before she’d started working out. Her posture was definitely straighter and her arms were more toned. And maybe her high cheekbones were a teensy bit more defined? She wasn’t sure about that one.
    She might not be as thin as that little twig Jake preferred, but she never would be. All she could be was her own personal best.
    She tied her hair back in a sloppy ponytail and washed her face. Frowning at her heavy eyelids in her bathroom mirror, she added some concealer, mascara and lip gloss. Better. She didn’t mind having what her Uncle Liam called “bedroom eyes”, but she drew the line at going out in public looking droopy as a basset hound. Luckily she was lightly tanned, so she didn’t need blush, and her full lips were naturally a dark rose, so she rarely wore lipstick.
     
     
    Her apple-green Volkswagen Bug rolled smoothly through the quiet streets of Beaverton. Traffic picked up the closer she got to the boulevard, and when she pulled into the big parking lot in front of Big Iron Fitness, it was half-full already. Fitness fanatics, she’d labeled the taut, muscular crew who always seemed to be at the gym, but there were worse obsessions—like donuts. Or Jake Stone.
    Ack, he’d probably be here this morning. He was the manager, after all.
    Unless he’d taken the day off because he was still in bed with his tiny little brunette.
    Maybe he’d roll over on the woman and squash her. Yeah, she’d squeak like a puppy toy being stepped on and Jake would beg her to forgive him, but she’d be so scared she’d run out of his place stark naked. He probably lived in an apartment, or a condo. The neighbors would all be outside, at one of those community-building meals-on-the-lawn things that condo managers were always trying to talk their tenants into. They’d gawk as Jake and his bimbo came bolting outside with their junk flapping, and Jake would be ab-so-lute-ly humiliated.
    Grinning with satisfaction, Carlie sauntered through the big, glass front doors, said hello to Brian, the young Asian-American on desk duty, and headed back toward the women’s locker room. She spotted a familiar set of massive shoulders in the back of the huge space before the mirrors. Her smile slipped. Awareness tightened low in her belly. Jake was here —not in bed with that other woman. Okay, that was good.
    Wait a minute. Wait just a darn minute! No, it was not good. How ridiculous was she being, to care that he was in the vicinity? Last night he’d turned his back on her and gone off and boinked another woman. Couldn’t get much clearer than that about his disinterest in her.
    Who cared if he’d managed to drag his tight ass out of her bed? Not Carlie. Nope, time to ignore him right back. And she could do that. She’d had all kinds of practice from junior high on, when she developed breasts and hips before the other girls. She still got plenty of practice with the computer techs at work and their weird, geek humor. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but still clueless.
    She did well with her Ignore Jake Stone Plan until it was time to use the pectoral fly machine. With D-cups, she never missed