“Nicely done. Now, get that sexy ass of yours on the treadmill,” Nick said and gave her sweaty rear end a slap. She balked. “Shouldn’t we go run down this lead? Or get some doughnuts? Or take shower naps?” “There’s no time-outs in danger boot camp for doughnuts and shower sex,” her mean boyfriend insisted. “I said shower nap, not sex,” she grumbled. “Treadmill. Now.” “For what it’s worth, I’d take you for doughnuts,” Weber called after her as she trudged toward her cardio fate. His sentence was cut off by a grunt of pain, which Riley guessed meant Nick had elbowed him in the stomach.
