Gambling It All

Chapter Four

"I hate gyms," Nicky pronounced the next morning as Dixie met him in the family room, prepared to work all morning on his rehab before strength training the rest of his body in the afternoon.

"Good morning," Dixie said, looking innocent.

"Good morning," Nicky echoed, chastened for a moment that he hadn't even greeted her. "I hate gyms."

Dixie looked pointedly at the gym equipment in the next room, then back to Nicky.

"Tommy and Danny use that," Nicky said tersely. "I don't. I get bored."

"How do you stay in shape?" Dixie asked, her tone inquiring but not rude.

Nicky shrugged. "Well, I don't know if you know this, but I ride motorcycles a lot, and that keeps me in pretty good shape."

Dixie crossed her arms across her chest and eyed him speculatively. "Cade tells me your core and your arms aren't up to par, and with the switch to Honda next year..."

"How do you know about that?" Nicky interjected. "We haven't announced. Not for a couple of weeks yet."

"I know that, and I'm not going to run to the media, but there's a couple of things you need to come to terms with. I know everything there is to know about your physical well being, and Cade has a big fat mouth. And Cade tells me you aren't up to the task when it comes to working with the Honda next year. You know they're changing the specs and you know it's heavier, and if your only workout regimen right now is wandering around the farm and occasionally driving a bike, you are going to rodeo it the first time you hit the asphalt."

Nicky glared at her, assessing all she'd just said. Cade and his blabbermouth telling her about Honda... and ratting him out for not being strong enough... and how the hell does she know what rodeoing a bike is?

Oh yeah, because she's got some expertise in this area, thanks to her brothers.

Dammit, Nicky thought. He really thought with getting a girl trainer he could snow her into believing every word he said, but Dixie Colson was proving she knew a lot more about his livelihood than he initially thought.

This meant she was going to work his ass harder than he intended.

Damn.

"Look," Dixie continued, her tone softening a bit. "You're in great shape compared to most of middle America, but as an elite athlete in an elite sport? You have to be more than the average American – you need to have abs of steel and arms like tree trunks; you need your legs back under you, and your back needs strengthening to support your ride."

Nicky remained silent, knowing she was right bur refusing to admit it.

And hoping to God this wasn't what cost him races last year – his lack of discipline in the gym.

"You've gotta get hip to the fact I know what I'm talking about. I'm a chick, but I'm qualified as a trainer and rehab specialist, and more than that, I know way more about bike racing than you think. I can help you – I want to help you – but only if you don't stand in your own way. You're so close to greatness – don't let your stubbornness and this whole 'lone wolf' thing stand in the way."

She thought he was close to greatness? Nicky mused on that for a moment before breaking the silence. "I'm not used to asking for help," Nicky mumbled, looking down at his running shoes.

Dixie bit back a smile. "Well, you could have fooled me. You've just been so damn effusive..."

Nicky's head snapped up and his eyes met her twinkling ones, and he bit back a smile of his own. "We just cowboy up and handle things. It's not that I don't think you're qualified..."