Weston Ranch, Fisher's Story Read Free Page A

with his date, Tricia Glassman.
    She was the local librarian at the school, dull and somewhat pretty. No back talk, no fighting, no mess. J ust what h e needed in his life, too bad the night sucked already. He was desperate after Claire left and called the first woman the popped up in his contacts of his cell phone. He looked around at all the women, old and young alike. This was a bad idea.
    "Zumba, it's an exercise dance class. I told you about a couple days ago , " s he pouted and stuck her lip out.
    Shit, like he even gave her a second thought since Claire arrived in town.
    "Are you serious? There is no way in hell I am doing any dancing or whatever you call it, Tricia." What the hell did I see in this chick? H e thought to himself . He already regretted going out tonight . Usually , he would take a woman out to a five star restaurant, do some dancing and go back to his place. That was in New York. Since being home and taking over the ranch, he didn’t have time for women. Between the ranch and his software business , he was overwork ing himself .
    "Suit yourself, but I am going to enjoy myself, " Tricia said. She walke d away and joined the other wome n . There had to be over thirty people crowded in the small gym. Other than himself , there were two other men, also standing to the side. What a fantastic fucking night. Ne ver again will he allow a woman to dictate where they get to go . A woman with blonde hair caught his eye. Her back was to him. No, it couldn't be.
    She was busy talking to group of teens, before she made her way up to the makeshift stage. When she faced the crowd, he had to pick he jaw off the floor. Claire was taking her hands and making a quieting motion. When she got everyone's attention, she was talking instructions and counting people.
    What the Fuck? She just moved back into town two days ago. T here was no way she moved in the community that fast . She started stripping down. She took off an oversized sweater and her baggy sweat pants. She wore a black sports bra and short , skimpy shorts underneath . He thought about leaving Tricia to find her own way home.
    He could hear what Claire was saying to the crowd , but his mind didn’t comprehend anything at the moment. She started the music , and damn did he not go from soft to hard in three seconds flat. The way she was moving her tight , toned body was ridiculous. Women didn't do that shit here, but as he looked around, sure enough even sixty year women were trying to get down and dirty.
    Fisher lasted twenty minutes before he stalked out the back doors of the gym. He couldn’t take any more of Claire thrusting her ass around and watching her breasts bounce with the fast paced moves. Tricia could find her own way home . She completely ignored him anyway. He lost sight of her five minutes in to the class . He was heading to the bar. He needed a drink after watch Claire do moves he didn't he know existed. He took out his cell and called his brother.
    "Hello?" Fisher said question ing ly when his call was answered , but no sound came from the other end.
    "Ash , what are doing tonight?" He spoke again when hea rd a ru stling noise in the background.
    "What do you need ?” Asher finally spoke.
    "I was going for a drink , " h e heard someone whispering in the backgr ound and Asher answering. He was having rotten luck all the way around ton ight, and his brother was apparently getting lucky.
    "Never mind bro . I'll catch you later, " Fisher hung up and got into his truck and sat there. He certain ly didn't feel like going to a bar now , or going home. A tap at the window startled him. He found a very sw eaty Claire waving at him outside his driver window.
    "What you doing here?" She asked as he rolled the window down.
    "I was dragged here by my date, and I am not d irty dancing, which was what you were doing, " h e stated. There was no way in hell that he was going to go back inside the gym. Not with Claire being here.
    "Zumba? That is not dirty