Page 4 of Over the Moon (Rosewood River #3)

“When I feel the need to dance, I fucking dance.” I barked out a laugh as I waggled my brows at her.

I reached for her hand and spun her around, trying to lighten the mood.

She surprised me when she didn’t pull back, and her head tipped back in laughter.

I spun her a second time, and she shook her head, a wide grin on her face as the song came to an end.

“Okay, dance time is over,” she said, feigning irritation, but I didn’t miss the way her lips turned up in the corners. She gathered her notebooks and dropped them into her bag.

“So what’s the deal with the notebooks?” I asked, before chugging an entire bottle of water.

“I always use notebooks. It’s my thing, I guess,” she said.

We continued through the workout, music blaring, and there wasn’t a whole lot of talking, just Eloise telling me how to do the exercise in the safest way, as she hovered around and took notes.

“Do you take notes on all the athletes on the team?”

She paused with her pen in hand and glanced up at me. “Well, seeing as I literally just graduated and started this job and was immediately sent away for three months to work with only one athlete on the team, it’s fair to say that all the notes are about you at this point.”

“Wait, is this your first job?”

“I mean, it’s not my first job in my life, if that’s what you’re asking.

I waited tables all through college and I nannied in the summers, so obviously I’ve worked before now.

But yes, I graduated in June from grad school.

This isn’t exactly how I thought I’d be spending the first few months employed at my new job, so I’ve got all my eggs in one basket here.

” She arched a brow at her own witty comment.

“Wow. No pressure. I’m guessing this means you need me to come back stronger than ever, huh?” I asked, my voice all tease, but I felt the weight of my words, even though I was good at hiding it.

Being a professional athlete came with an insurmountable amount of pressure, and in this moment, I realized Eloise had a similar kind of pressure.

“I’m quite sure you know how important it is that you come back strong. You live with that kind of pressure, and I’m experiencing it first-hand.” She shrugged, turning back to her notes.

I hadn’t seen anyone handwrite notes like this in a very long time.

“Well, we’re on the same page. I want to come back stronger than ever for my own selfish reasons, so I’m as determined as you are to make that happen.” I wiped my face off with a towel and reached for my sweaty tee that I’d removed. “I’m going to take a swim.”

“Oh.” She glanced down at her notebook. “Did Randall have that on your schedule? He didn’t include a swim on my notes.”

I chuckled. “No, Eloise. I actually have my own tricks of the trade that have always worked for me. And swimming in the river after a workout is always a good idea.”

She followed me out of the gym, and I paused in the kitchen and grabbed a Gatorade, holding one up for her.

“I’m good. I have my water. Thank you, though.” She cleared her throat. “So how far do you swim?”

“I go right off my dock, out a half mile and back. So a mile total.” I finished chugging my drink and made my way toward the back door. “You’re off the clock. I don’t expect you to hang out and watch me swim. It’s not a team-appointed workout.”

“I, um, I need to stick around.” She fumbled with her bag as she followed me outside.

I turned around to respond and she slammed into my chest. I steadied her shoulders.

“Shit. Are you okay?” I asked as her hands pressed against my bare chest to stop herself from face-planting into me.

Her fingertips were soft and cool against my heated skin.

I glanced down at her, as she stood a good foot shorter than me and her startled gaze collided with mine.

We were both silent before she stepped back hastily and removed her hands from my chest.

“I’m fine. But I’m curious, would you ask Randall if he was okay if he slammed into you?”

“What?” I asked.

“You heard me. Don’t treat me differently just because I’m a woman. Would you act like that with Randall?”

“I don’t know. Randall wouldn’t stick around to watch me swim. He would just leave. But I assume if he crashed into me, I’d ask if he was okay,” I said, quirking a brow.

She shrugged. “I’m staying. This is what I’m here for. This is my job.”

“Suit yourself,” I smirked, even though I didn’t mind her staying. She was passionate about her work, and I respected that. Most people would take the early out. “It’ll take me a little bit if you want to wait inside. Unless you plan to swim beside me?” A sarcastic chuckle escaped my lips.

“Why do you say that like it’s a joke? I was actually on the swim team in high school. I can swim a mile in my sleep, Hotshot.”

Color me intrigued.

“Is that so?” I asked. “So are you coming?”

I had to push away every dirty joke that entered my mind.

That’s what she said.

“I,” she paused. “I don’t have a swimsuit.”

“Neither do I. This is a small town, and this side of the river is quiet. No one will be out there, and if they are, they’ll be doing the same thing,” I said, as I pulled my shorts down, leaving me in nothing but my briefs.

Her eyes widened as she stared at me, her gaze moving from my chest down to my… favorite hockey stick, who appeared to be responding to the way her gaze had tracked him.

“Tell me you’ve never swam in your underwear.” I tilted my head and noted the way her cheeks pinked.

Damn. She was cute for an uptight physical therapist who took her job a little too seriously.

And that was coming from someone who took his job a little too seriously.

“Don’t be ludicrous.” She dropped her bag and tore her tank top over her head, exposing her pink sports bra.

She kicked off her shoes and socks, putting them beside her tank top.

She kept her shorts on, much to my disappointment, and stormed past me.

“Of course, I’ve swum in my underwear. I wasn’t born under a rock. ”

I barked out a laugh and followed her down to the dock. “When was the last time you did it?”

She whipped around, and I came to an abrupt stop before risking another crash and pissing her off. She repeated my question as if it were an outrageous question. “When was the last time you did it?”

“Yesterday,” I said dryly. “You?”

She tipped her chin up defiantly with the hint of a smile that could have been easily missed. But I was a dude who paid attention. “It’s been a little longer for me.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” I barked out a laugh. “Let’s go, Weeze.”

“It’s Eloise,” she snipped as she jogged to catch up.

“Nah. That name doesn’t fit you, and it’s too long. I like Weeze.”

“I hate that name.”

“Even more reason to use it.” I chuckled before motioning for her to jump in first.

“Such a gentleman,” she grumped as she dipped her toe in the water.

The sun was shining down on the ribbon-like water, making it appear a mix of blue, green, and yellow. The surrounding redwood trees provided a little bit of shade as we stood on the wood stationary dock at the edge of my property.

I arched a brow. “Having second thoughts?”

“In your dreams, Hotshot.”

And she dove in like a professional diver being scored for entering the water without so much as a splash.

It was impressive.

I had a feeling Eloise Gable was as unpredictable as her mood swings toward me.