The Reconstruction of Carla Millhouse Read Online Free
Author: Candy Caine
slender arm and pointed with a tapered finger to a set of doors on her right. “You walk through there and make a right.”
Carla hurried through the doors, but was so nervous that she made a left instead—straight into the men’s locker room. The sight of two huge, cellulite-filled, naked buns belonging to a man struggling to bend down and pick up his towel that had fallen under the bench, caused her to snap her eyes shut in fear of having been struck blind.
As she reversed her gears and retraced her steps, she came to another room. Half afraid that she’d find naked men doing cartwheels inside, she hardly wanted to take a peek. However, reminding herself that Lynne had gone to the trouble to set this appointment up gave her renewed courage.
A bronzed god was doing sit-ups on an exercise bench. All she could see was sweat-slicked muscles—flexing and releasing. It took her a moment to realize her breathing had become in sync with their movement. Even the legs emerging from his gym shorts looked like they were pumped with air. Martin was in good shape, but his body was nothing compared to this guy’s.
He sensed someone was there and grabbed a towel to wipe his face and under his arms, which she noticed were just as hairless as the rest of his gleaming body. She felt warmth spreading from her center. Good Lord! She mused. If the sweat glistening on his arms looked erotic, she’d been neglected by Martin far too long. She was going to make this work.
“Hi! You must be Carla,” he said, smiling warmly which made her feel welcome. “I’m Joey.”
She nodded. Prying her eyes from his body had been difficult. If a person’s body was considered a temple, she wanted to join his congregation.
He put down the towel and she studied his face for the first time. It wasn’t what she might consider handsome, but he was cute in a boyish kind of way. His hair was light brown and cut really close to his scalp making it look as if someone had sprayed it on. She loved his eyes, though. They were amber-colored with dark brown specks and became tight slivers when he smiled.
He came closer and offered his hand to shake. Carla shook it and noticed how small her hand looked next to his. Were the muscles in his hands pumped, as well?
“I wanted to meet here for the first time so we can get your specs in order to make an exercise chart. We need a jumping off point.”
“Forget about anything that concerns jumping. If I haven’t done it by now, I’m not going to. And as for my specs, just half of what you see now.”
Joey broke into a throaty chuckle. “Lynne mentioned you had a good sense of humor. Keep it up. A good mental state is important.”
Carla hadn’t meant to say anything funny. It was just the way she got when she was nervous. That’s why she avoided going to funerals.
“Let’s get started then. Put your things down on that chair and hop onto this scale.”
Carla hated scales. Just the sight of the abominable instrument made her shudder. Scales had the power to suck the very self-esteem right out of a person. And all you had to do was merely step on it.
Joey saw the hesitation in her large brown eyes. “Hey, by this time next week you’ll want to jump on the scale to see how much you’ve lost. Come on, trust me.”
Carla took a few tentative, baby steps in the direction of the damn thing and stopped. Joey nodded his head toward the scale to get her moving again. When she finally reached the base, she closed her eyes and stepped on. She heard him push the slider back and forth until he was satisfied.
“Open your eyes, Carla. It’s not that bad.”
She looked at the number and thought he was humoring her.
“You’re about 5’6”, right?”
She nodded, wondering how he knew.
“Okay, for a woman your age and height, factoring in your bone structure, you should be somewhere between 127-141 lbs.”
She sighed. She tipped the scales at 181. Jeez, how did she ever let herself go like
Carla hurried through the doors, but was so nervous that she made a left instead—straight into the men’s locker room. The sight of two huge, cellulite-filled, naked buns belonging to a man struggling to bend down and pick up his towel that had fallen under the bench, caused her to snap her eyes shut in fear of having been struck blind.
As she reversed her gears and retraced her steps, she came to another room. Half afraid that she’d find naked men doing cartwheels inside, she hardly wanted to take a peek. However, reminding herself that Lynne had gone to the trouble to set this appointment up gave her renewed courage.
A bronzed god was doing sit-ups on an exercise bench. All she could see was sweat-slicked muscles—flexing and releasing. It took her a moment to realize her breathing had become in sync with their movement. Even the legs emerging from his gym shorts looked like they were pumped with air. Martin was in good shape, but his body was nothing compared to this guy’s.
He sensed someone was there and grabbed a towel to wipe his face and under his arms, which she noticed were just as hairless as the rest of his gleaming body. She felt warmth spreading from her center. Good Lord! She mused. If the sweat glistening on his arms looked erotic, she’d been neglected by Martin far too long. She was going to make this work.
“Hi! You must be Carla,” he said, smiling warmly which made her feel welcome. “I’m Joey.”
She nodded. Prying her eyes from his body had been difficult. If a person’s body was considered a temple, she wanted to join his congregation.
He put down the towel and she studied his face for the first time. It wasn’t what she might consider handsome, but he was cute in a boyish kind of way. His hair was light brown and cut really close to his scalp making it look as if someone had sprayed it on. She loved his eyes, though. They were amber-colored with dark brown specks and became tight slivers when he smiled.
He came closer and offered his hand to shake. Carla shook it and noticed how small her hand looked next to his. Were the muscles in his hands pumped, as well?
“I wanted to meet here for the first time so we can get your specs in order to make an exercise chart. We need a jumping off point.”
“Forget about anything that concerns jumping. If I haven’t done it by now, I’m not going to. And as for my specs, just half of what you see now.”
Joey broke into a throaty chuckle. “Lynne mentioned you had a good sense of humor. Keep it up. A good mental state is important.”
Carla hadn’t meant to say anything funny. It was just the way she got when she was nervous. That’s why she avoided going to funerals.
“Let’s get started then. Put your things down on that chair and hop onto this scale.”
Carla hated scales. Just the sight of the abominable instrument made her shudder. Scales had the power to suck the very self-esteem right out of a person. And all you had to do was merely step on it.
Joey saw the hesitation in her large brown eyes. “Hey, by this time next week you’ll want to jump on the scale to see how much you’ve lost. Come on, trust me.”
Carla took a few tentative, baby steps in the direction of the damn thing and stopped. Joey nodded his head toward the scale to get her moving again. When she finally reached the base, she closed her eyes and stepped on. She heard him push the slider back and forth until he was satisfied.
“Open your eyes, Carla. It’s not that bad.”
She looked at the number and thought he was humoring her.
“You’re about 5’6”, right?”
She nodded, wondering how he knew.
“Okay, for a woman your age and height, factoring in your bone structure, you should be somewhere between 127-141 lbs.”
She sighed. She tipped the scales at 181. Jeez, how did she ever let herself go like
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