“Oh.” She should have been relieved, but instead she found herself… disappointed? She didn’t say anything though, just allowed him to show her the proper procedure for bowing out, then followed his example.
“So… is this something you want to keep doing?” he asked. “You really did well out there. Most people only get through about half of what you’ve learned so far today.”
“I… really?” She couldn’t help but admit that stroked her ego. She’d never considered herself to be athletic or even particularly inclined to sports of any kind.
“Absolutely. You’re a natural.” He winked at her. “In a week or two you’ll be out there with your nephew.”
She smiled a little at the idea of being in the same class as Dawson—who would outrank her, she realized. But still, it would bring them closer together as family. And if this was something she could really become good at, and get in shape with, she could live with two weeks of flustered discomfort from getting one-on-one lessons from him.
“Alright. I’m game.”
****
Jace mentally kicked himself the entire way home. He was certain he’d done the right thing by not leaning down and kissing her when she’d stumbled into his arms… and yet he couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if he had. Her lips were full, with a natural pout to them that had beckoned. He imagined they would have been soft and silky and delicious.
When she’d walked into the dojo wearing that purple top and leggings he’d wondered if his eyes had popped out of his head. The outfit had hugged her figure in all the right places, accentuating the swell of her ample bust line, her flared hips, and her rounded thighs. He could imagine kissing his way up her dainty calves, and freely admitted to himself that he’d enjoyed being in close proximity to her. She’d smelled like lavender and sunshine, and she’d looked like a little gypsy warrior woman.
He knew the reason she’d toppled into him was because he’d accidentally touched her butt, though she didn’t seem to want to acknowledge that. And he’d had the feeling that she’d wanted him to kiss her. But it would have been incredibly unprofessional for him to do so, and anyone could walk in. If he’d been caught making out with one of his own students on the training floor… no. His reputation would be shot to smithereens. He’d never once become sexually involved with a student.
After arriving home he changed into shorts and a t-shirt and settled down into an armchair with a spy thriller. But his mind was still on Shelby. He wondered if it would really be so bad if he took a chance on her. It had been nearly a year since he’d caught his ex cheating with their next door neighbor. It was time to find someone else, and though she wasn’t exactly his vision of the perfect woman, he was nevertheless drawn to her.
Would it really hurt for him to take a chance?
****
“So did you two have a good time together this week?” Lisa asked.
“We had an awesome week!” Dawson crowed from below, his little body wrapped around his mother’s leg. “Can we do it again next weekend? I like staying at Auntie Shelby’s house.”
“I’m sure you do, honey,” Lisa said, stroking her son’s hair as she and Shelby exchanged knowing smiles. “Why don’t you take your backpack out to the car so I can talk to your auntie?”
“We had a great time,” Shelby told her after Dawson had skipped out. “He’s full of energy as usual.”
“That’s my baby.” Lisa smiled. “I’m really, really, incredibly grateful you did this for me, Shelby.”
Shelby lifted a shoulder. “That’s what family’s for, right?”
“Well, if you ever need a favor, advice, anything at all, let me know, alright?”
“Will do.”
Shelby let out a sigh of relief once they were out the door, happy to have her house back. In truth it hadn’t been much of a hardship to have Dawson—giving up her evenings to play with him and help him with his homework and getting up a little earlier to take him to school did put a toll on her normal life activities, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.
What had been tough were the last two days of taking him to karate classes, and trying her hardest not to stare at Jace the entire time. She’d set an appointment for her next lesson with him on Monday because she didn’t really think it was right to be fobbing Dawson off on the neighbors when she was supposed to be watching him. And she had a feeling that he was trying his best not to look at her too—and she wasn’t sure why. Had she done something to make him uncomfortable? Did he know she was attracted to him? Oh gosh. Maybe she shouldn’t be taking lessons from him after all if she was that obvious! She should really call and cancel. Yes, she should.
But Monday rolled around and though she’d glanced at her phone a bazillion times, she’d not been able to bring herself to do it. She had no idea why, because staying away from him would probably be the best thing in the long run, but the idea of breaking things off like that wasn’t appealing.
Breaking things off? The snide little voice in her head whispered. You’re not going steady here.
She rolled her eyes. Of course they weren’t. That was the point.
She showed up anyway, wearing a similar outfit to last time except with a sky blue tank top instead of a purple one. This next lesson was more brutal than the last one—he added more steps, pushed harder, and she was so focused on trying to keep up with his commands while still executing the moves correctly she hardly had time to think about her attraction to him. And when she got home the only things she did was shower and pass out, utterly exhausted.
They made plans to meet three times a week, and though she was still sore by the time the next day came around she kept to the agreement. She did notice that this time he was very careful not to touch her unless it was absolutely necessary—a tap on the elbow here, a nudge to the wrist or knee as he corrected her stances, but nothing more. Even so she felt the jolt each time he did it, and couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling it too.
A week and a half passed, and she could feel the muscles in her legs and abdomen tightening, growing more toned as he forced her to engage them constantly. She grew more comfortable around him too, so that the sessions were no longer so nerve wracking and she was able to focus more on her breathing and technique and less on whether she looked like an idiot or what was going through his mind when he looked at her.
When she came in on Friday night, he was waiting for her with a brown paper-wrapped package under his left arm and a smile on his face.
“What’s that?” she asked as he handed it to her.
“Open it and see.”
She tore open the paper to find a set of gi and a white belt. “I… you… did you get these for me?”
He grinned. “You’re going to be moving into the group lessons soon, so I thought you should have a uniform by now so you don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”
Her heart pumped faster—group lessons? “So soon?” She unwrapped the gi and held it up. “I don’t know if I’m ready…”
“Don’t worry about it. We still have a few private lessons to go. Why don’t you go try it on?”
She went into the bathroom and came out a few moments later with the front of her hakama open. “I… umm… I can’t get these ties right…” she mumbled, her eyes on the ground—she knew she was going to need his help, but it meant letting her see more of her skin than she was comfortable sharing with anyone, let alone a man she was attracted to.
“Uhh… here. Let me help.” He reached forward to fix the ties, then froze as his fingers brushed against her bare abdomen. His eyes latched onto her br**sts, which were hidden by the pink sports bra she was wearing, and she was incredibly aware of how it pushed together and lifted her cl**vage. Something flashed in his eyes, and then he dropped his gaze, fixed her ties and pulled the hakama shut. He then showed her how to tie her belt, which was a complicated affair in and of itself.
“There you go.” He stepped back and grinned at her. “You look like a warrior princess.”
“Oh please.” She turned, bowed in to the training floor, then took a look at herself in the mirrored wall and blinked. She was nearly unrecognizable, and though she’d been worried the uniform would make her look fat the belt cinched at her waist saved her figure from being engulfed by the loose cloth. And actually the cut fit her well.
“Alright, maybe I don’t look so bad.”
He laughed. “Let’s get started. We’re going to do some self-defense today.”
“Huh?”
“Just follow along with me.”
He took her through a set of moves that involved peeling someone’s grip off your head and twisting them around so you could kick them in the face. They practiced a few times side by side, and then he faced her and grabbed her by the hair.
“Go ahead,” he told her. “Show me what I have coming.”
She fumbled the first two times, but the third time she successively twisted his arm around and executed the uplift kick, stopping just a scant inch from his cheekbone. “That was pretty cool,” she said excitedly, looking down at her hands as she marveled. “I guess even someone like me could do this.”
“You’re a natural,” he assured her. “With a few years under your belt you’ll be a bona fide bad ass.” She laughed, and he grinned at her. “Now let’s go through it again.”
They practiced it a few more times and then went into some other moves. He showed her one that involved knocking the opponent’s legs out from underneath with a simultaneous sweep and chop motion, but she couldn’t seem to get it no matter how many times she tried.
“I think you’re going to have to show me,” she finally said with a sigh. “Like, for real. I have to see exactly what’s happening so I can understand.”
She could have sworn he hesitated, but it was only a fraction of a second. “Sure. Stand across from me and grab with both hands.”
Shelby did as he asked, swallowing a little as his gi gaped, revealing an expanse of muscular chest dusted with crisp hairs. She didn’t have much time to stare though because he was moving then, trapping her arms against his chest, stepping between her legs, then raising his arm above her head and bringing it down against her collarbone as he swept her right leg out from behind. She let out a little shriek, but his grip was firm on her left shoulder and he controlled the fall so she hit the ground with minimal impact. Then he pulled back his fist and made as if to punch her, then pulled back again.
“Jesus,” she panted, the wind thoroughly knocked out of her. She looked up to find him staring at her intently, a gleam in his eyes again, and was terribly aware that his knee was brushing up against her ribs, her right wrist was still clasped in his hand, and their faces were only inches away. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice low and husky.