Can't Buy His Love

Can’t Buy His Love By J.D. Walker Mrs. Ragsdale was seventy years old and still very agile. She came to the gym like clockwork every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to use light weights and walk on the treadmill or use the exercise bike. She was my inspiration, especially on days when I despaired of getting anywhere with my worst crush ever, Gregory Wang. The owner of the daycare center across the street from my gym was a few years younger than me, and absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful brown eyes, perfect cheekbones, hot body, waves of raven-colored hair…my dreams every night featured him in every position imaginable. And I had yet to get much further than halfway to first base with him. Still. After almost a year of living in this sleepy beach town. I would be the last to admit failure in getting the man I wanted, but I was fast giving up hope. Usually having money or good looks and charm helped smooth my way into someone’s bed, whether or not that was a good thing. In this instance, it hadn’t done me any favors. Although, even if I were flat broke or homeless, I thought that Gregory would still avoid me like the plague. Something about me made him clam up from the first time we met, though I could tell he was into me. The eyes never lie, and his were telling all kinds of truths he wanted to explore. But that was it. And each time I’d tried ever since, that mile-thick concrete barrier around his heart got harder and harder to penetrate. Tory Cuthbert—owner of the Misty View Motel on the beach and a childhood friend with whom I’d become reacquainted when I showed up here last year—told me I might have to prove myself. He said it could take time, that I’d have to wait. All the things I’ve never had to do before. It was driving me nuts. Perhaps I could be called arrogant and self-involved, but that was nothing new. This time around, however, it was a problem. And I admitted to being clueless when it came to serious relationships, most of the time. Tory pointed that out to me often enough. I liked it here, though. My brand new house was about a mile from the beach, and the view around me was spectacular. Usually, after setting up a gym in my franchise, I hung around long enough to ensure success, then moved on. But something about this place made me want to stay. And likely the reason was he-who-refused-to-sleep-with-me. Hell, he hadn’t even consented to coffee! Every Tuesday, Gregory and some of his staff took the daycare kids to the bookstore for reading and play time. I always made sure that I just so happened to drop by when he was there, if only to get a glimpse of the man. It was true. I had no shame anymore, though perhaps I never did. Austin Murray, who owned the bookstore, always gave me a knowing look dangerously close to pity whenever I stopped by. What could I say? I was besotted, after all. I never stayed in the store very long. Maybe I was hoping that, one day, Gregory would get so sick of me not so pseudo-stalking him that he’d give in and let me take him out on a date. Or call the cops. One could only hope for the former. And then, one such Tuesday afternoon, as Gregory and the staff were taking the kids back to daycare, one of the toddlers broke free of the long line snaking along the sidewalk and ran into the street. I happened to be peering out the glass windows of the gym at the time and saw what was going on. I ran outside as the little boy made it to the middle of the road, a pickup truck bearing down on him, fast. Someone screamed as I made it to where the child was now standing frozen as the vehicle came ever closer to his tiny body. I scooped him up into my arms as the vehicle screeched to a stop, hitting me hard enough to send me rolling on the asphalt. Man, that hurt!