football in the NFL. He was younger too. “Get your mat,” he said.
Shane started to reply, then looked at Em.
Fuck.
Shane dropped his head. It wasn’t their physical threats—that he didn’t take seriously anyway—it was that Emma was a pain in the ass and would definitely withhold information about Isabelle if he disparaged her beloved yoga by not participating.
He was stuck.
With a heavy sigh, he retrieved the mat and unrolled it next to Dooley.
“Why are you all here anyway? Seriously?”
“Look at ’em,” Dooley said, gesturing to Mac and Sam. “They look like shit.”
Shane had to admit that Sam and Mac had both looked better.
“Sam’s got twin baby girls at home and is up all night and worried all the time,” Dooley said. “Which, by the way, is hilarious considering how many times in the past he was up all night and making other people worry.”
Sam flipped him off.
“What’s wrong with you?” Shane asked Mac, settling down onto his mat.
“Sara’s pregnant,” the big guy said of his wife.
“Yeah.” Shane knew that. Everyone knew that.
It was hard to miss Sara Bradford Gordon even if she weren’t hugely pregnant, looking like she’d stuck a beach ball under her shirt. “Congrats,” Shane said to Mac.
“Thanks.”
Shane looked at Dooley for further clarification but it was Kevin who answered with a chuckle, “Turns out Mac’s a worrywart too. Who would have guessed? He needs to learn to chill out before she goes into labor or he’s going to be the one they have to sedate.”
“They’re not sleeping well and the worry is a little out of control,” Ryan said from the front of the room. “They’re concerned that all of this is going to affect how they do their jobs, so I suggested some meditation and yoga.”
Ryan had been raised by a woman Shane swore was part hippy and part gypsy. Ryan knew all about herbs and acupuncture and all kinds of other stuff that sounded hokey to him. Shane had never met an illness that didn’t respond to rest, orange juice and ibuprofen. But Ryan wasn’t weird about it. In fact, he had a sense of humor about all of it, so on occasion Shane would say yes to one of the healing creams Ryan’s mom made for bumps and bruises or would actually drink some of the crazy tea she made to help with inflammation and circulation.
So far he’d never felt worse for using the stuff, so he went along with it when Ryan brought it up.
“And what are you doing here?” Shane asked Kevin and Dooley.
“We’re here for moral support,” Kevin said.
“And entertainment,” Dooley added, trying to touch the toes on his outstretched leg. He was several inches short of his goal. “I’ve seen beautiful women get into amazing poses doing yoga. I can’t wait to see these guys try.”
“We’re not going to be the only ones falling on our asses,” Mac told him. “I’ll make sure of that,” he added.
“And you’re the fearless leader?” Shane asked Ryan.
“Em thought the guys would be less intimidated having me here.”
“Is intimidated really the word you want to use?” Mac asked.
Ryan chuckled. “They’d be more comfortable with me leading.”
“Now see, if I have to watch someone bending and stretching in front of me, I’d rather it be Emma,” Dooley commented.
She blew him a kiss. “Thanks. But I think I need to hang out over here by Officer Kelley.”
“You are going to help me?” Shane asked.
“With yoga and with Isabelle.”
“Okay. Why does she knit?”
Emma grinned. “Shh…Ryan’s starting the class.”
“Tonight we’re going to introduce you to the basics. Deep breathing, focus and a few beginning poses,” Ryan said.
He was seated at the front facing the group, his knees bent and the soles of his feet together in what Shane thought of as a traditional meditation pose. Shane was impressed that he was flexible enough to not only get his feet together like that, but that his knees fell out and nearly touched the
Shane started to reply, then looked at Em.
Fuck.
Shane dropped his head. It wasn’t their physical threats—that he didn’t take seriously anyway—it was that Emma was a pain in the ass and would definitely withhold information about Isabelle if he disparaged her beloved yoga by not participating.
He was stuck.
With a heavy sigh, he retrieved the mat and unrolled it next to Dooley.
“Why are you all here anyway? Seriously?”
“Look at ’em,” Dooley said, gesturing to Mac and Sam. “They look like shit.”
Shane had to admit that Sam and Mac had both looked better.
“Sam’s got twin baby girls at home and is up all night and worried all the time,” Dooley said. “Which, by the way, is hilarious considering how many times in the past he was up all night and making other people worry.”
Sam flipped him off.
“What’s wrong with you?” Shane asked Mac, settling down onto his mat.
“Sara’s pregnant,” the big guy said of his wife.
“Yeah.” Shane knew that. Everyone knew that.
It was hard to miss Sara Bradford Gordon even if she weren’t hugely pregnant, looking like she’d stuck a beach ball under her shirt. “Congrats,” Shane said to Mac.
“Thanks.”
Shane looked at Dooley for further clarification but it was Kevin who answered with a chuckle, “Turns out Mac’s a worrywart too. Who would have guessed? He needs to learn to chill out before she goes into labor or he’s going to be the one they have to sedate.”
“They’re not sleeping well and the worry is a little out of control,” Ryan said from the front of the room. “They’re concerned that all of this is going to affect how they do their jobs, so I suggested some meditation and yoga.”
Ryan had been raised by a woman Shane swore was part hippy and part gypsy. Ryan knew all about herbs and acupuncture and all kinds of other stuff that sounded hokey to him. Shane had never met an illness that didn’t respond to rest, orange juice and ibuprofen. But Ryan wasn’t weird about it. In fact, he had a sense of humor about all of it, so on occasion Shane would say yes to one of the healing creams Ryan’s mom made for bumps and bruises or would actually drink some of the crazy tea she made to help with inflammation and circulation.
So far he’d never felt worse for using the stuff, so he went along with it when Ryan brought it up.
“And what are you doing here?” Shane asked Kevin and Dooley.
“We’re here for moral support,” Kevin said.
“And entertainment,” Dooley added, trying to touch the toes on his outstretched leg. He was several inches short of his goal. “I’ve seen beautiful women get into amazing poses doing yoga. I can’t wait to see these guys try.”
“We’re not going to be the only ones falling on our asses,” Mac told him. “I’ll make sure of that,” he added.
“And you’re the fearless leader?” Shane asked Ryan.
“Em thought the guys would be less intimidated having me here.”
“Is intimidated really the word you want to use?” Mac asked.
Ryan chuckled. “They’d be more comfortable with me leading.”
“Now see, if I have to watch someone bending and stretching in front of me, I’d rather it be Emma,” Dooley commented.
She blew him a kiss. “Thanks. But I think I need to hang out over here by Officer Kelley.”
“You are going to help me?” Shane asked.
“With yoga and with Isabelle.”
“Okay. Why does she knit?”
Emma grinned. “Shh…Ryan’s starting the class.”
“Tonight we’re going to introduce you to the basics. Deep breathing, focus and a few beginning poses,” Ryan said.
He was seated at the front facing the group, his knees bent and the soles of his feet together in what Shane thought of as a traditional meditation pose. Shane was impressed that he was flexible enough to not only get his feet together like that, but that his knees fell out and nearly touched the
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