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From inside the bathroom, Jason turned and peeked his head around the door. ‘You know what would help my laziness?’ She shot him a wary look. ‘What?’ ‘Coffee. And lots of it.’ Anna rolled her shoulders, relaxing out the tension. If he was asking for coffee, he wasn’t going to drag his feet anymore this morning. Thank God. It seemed like over the last few weeks—months, actually—she’d had to constantly prod him just to keep him on track. Already remaking the bed, she didn’t even glance up. ‘Coffee. I’m on it.’ ‘That’s why I love you, sugar,’ he said. ‘Always taking care of me.’ Then the door closed and the shower went on. As she methodically tucked and folded the sheet and comforter back into place, all she could think about was that someday—soon—she needed to start taking care of herself, too. Half an hour later, Jason re-appeared, not fully dressed, but freshly shaved. Anna was in the kitchen, stationed in front of the toaster, waiting for her pop tarts to emerge. She’d been so. What had started as an idea to raise a little badly needed cash by giving lessons to wanna-be super heroes had backfired with my very first client. I found myself saddled with a woman that I knew absolutely nothing about with one exception which was, I wanted to show her exactly why they called me Mister Muscle in the worst possible way. Chapter Two: Muscle Immobile One thing you should know about me. I don’t do things half way. You can’t afford to in the cape business. You either commit 110% or you end up dead. “You expect me to learn how to use all of those?” She sounded incredulous as she stared at the rack. I had loaded it with every weapon I could think of, from throwing stars to hammers, in the hopes of finding out if she had a natural affinity for anything in particular. There were even a set of laser pistols and a freeze ray gun to try out. “We play by my rules, Squirt…” I began, poised in my most authoritative pose, legs spread, arms crossed over my mighty chest, my mouth.
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