The Choice

I was running on the treadmill, trying to think about nothing but my breath and my muscles. That was my way to start the day: workout first and work second.

The music was beating in my ears, and I was trying to run in rhythm.

I would be working with my boss and friend, Adam. Just thinking about the tall man was enough to send my hormones all over the place.

I know. Dangerous to think about your boss as a sexy man—but Adam was truly beautiful. I had to give the man credit.

He was the tallest man I knew at almost six foot five, with a toned and tanned body like a Hollywood star.

You might wonder how I know this. Well…let’s say that accidents with beverages happen at some of the events we cover, and we were friends enough to work out together sometimes.

That meant I’d seen his mouth-watering abs more than once.

So yummy. So hard to forget.

His body was not his best asset, though. He had short, tousled, inky black hair and piercing light-green eyes. Those eyes were definitely his best asset. He could melt you right with one gaze.

Just thinking of them made me sigh.

I often daydreamed about him because how could I not? It was like admitting you never daydreamed about Chris Hemsworth. Come on. We all know you did at least once.

As I was thinking about my gorgeous boss, I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I pulled out my earphones and looked at the tall man next to me. I smiled at the mountain of muscles as I recognized him.

“Hi, Haven,” I said as I stopped the treadmill. “How are you?”

Haven was my workout buddy. We had met at the gym four years before and had been training together ever since.

He was the second tallest man I knew, at six foot four, and definitely the bulkiest. He looked like all security men that used to be in military special forces should—ridiculously fit—and he trained hard to stay in shape.

He had fine wheat-blond hair cut very short and sky-blue eyes. He was a fine man, and his girlfriend was lucky to have him.

“Fine, and you, Frenchy?” he asked in his deep, smooth voice.

He always called me that because I was French.

I had come to the US five years before to work for Adam, and I liked it so far. I still had trouble with vernacular English, but I was getting better at it every day. At least, I hoped I was.

“Fine.” I smiled at him. “How’s Delilah?”

My friend shifted his gaze and seemed uncomfortable with the topic. Delilah was his girlfriend, and they had been together for two years.

It was a first that the topic made him uncomfortable.

“We broke up,” he said, shrugging.

“What happened?” I asked, stunned. I had seen them three days before, and they seemed fine.

Haven was a detached and cool kind of man, but I knew he cared about her.

I guess when you worked for the military, you were not always an open book about your feelings. I had no trouble with that, though, and it seemed Delilah did not mind either.

“She wanted to get married and... she was not my one,” he said, as if that explained everything.

I stifled a laugh by biting my bottom lip.

Haven eyed me incredulously and finally cracked a smile.

“You don’t believe in true love, Mia,” he stated.

I shook my head before offering a small smile.

“No. I believe that we may find someone we’re comfortable enough with and that fills something in us, but not true love. That’s for movies and romance novels.”

“Such a sarcastic girl. I thought the French were romantic.” He smirked.

“We’re more cynical, believe me.” I laughed.

“I suppose that means you and Jackson broke up again?”

I thought about my ex for a second.

Jackson was a tall man, but I was too used to giants, really. He was six foot two, lean and toned like a swimmer. His chestnut hair was always messy, and his eyes were hazel gold.

Jackson owned a pretty successful bar. That was actually how we met because Haven and Adam were regulars. Adam took me there and introduced me to Jackson when I arrived in the States. We had been off and on ever since.

“Yeah, we did. He told me three days ago that he needed to leave for the weekend, and when I asked where he was going, he just got up and left. I’m tired of his attitude, really,” I said, suddenly furious.

I was still mad that he would overreact like that. I mean, it was just a simple question. I was not his mom, so I had no interest in what he would do, but I felt entitled as a girlfriend to at least know where he was going, right?

Haven seemed to consider, and for a second, I could see that he was going to take Jackson’s side.

Clearly, I was in the right here. I did not ask him where he was going so I could monitor him. I was just interested in his life, as a girlfriend should be.

“You do what you got to do,” he said finally.

“What does that mean?” I asked, my eyes narrowed.

“Jackson loves you, but we all like our privacy sometimes.”

“I just wanted to know because I care,” I said dryly.

Men, really. Always defending each other even when they were wrong.

“What did Adam say?” he asked.

I arched a brow at my friend.

I did not belong to my boss. Of course, I talked to him about it because we were friends, but it seemed to me that Haven was suggesting that Adam had a say in all this.

“He said basically the same thing—but he also added that I should try someone else.”

“Maybe he’s right. Jackson might not be your one.” He winked at me.

“Want to hit the bar tonight?” I asked, changing the subject.

He chuckled, and it was really deep coming from such a big man. His entire body moved with the laugh. Impressive.

“It might be a bit too early to hit on me, Frenchy.”

“Stop teasing me. Adam will be there too, you know. I thought we could use a drink.”

“Sure. Let’s meet when you two are done with work.”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

“Wanna do some crunches?”

“Sure!”

After our session, I felt refreshed. Some sweating was always a nice way to start the day.

I walked to the coffee shop and took my latte to go, along with a double espresso, black. That was Adam’s favorite, and I knew he might need it, considering how early we were starting our day.

We were preparing a room for a bar mitzvah and we had two hours left. My favorite events were usually the ones that ended early in the day and if we were lucky, a bar mitzvah was exactly that, so we could hit the bar early.

I found my huge boss arranging chairs in a row in front of a small stage. The stage was already set and I wondered if Adam had arrived early to start ahead. If so, he should have told me—I could have come earlier.

He turned his eyes to me as I walked into the room, and smiled.

I handed him the coffee and I stifled a shiver as his huge warm hand brushed mine. He was too sexy for my heart, truly, and it seemed that my entire body liked him a bit too much.

He took a sip of the coffee and sighed before offering me a bright smile.

“Thanks, Mia,” he said, his deep voice a rumble that always set my face on fire. “You will be such a great wife.”

My heart missed a beat and my breath caught in my throat.