Searching for Someday

five

SLADE WALKED INTO the small gym Verily boasted and headed toward the back room. He had no idea what to expect, but a good round of workouts was a great way to start a Sunday.

He made his way through an array of hand weights, bench presses, and treadmills, looking longingly out the window at the outside track. He’d much prefer a hard run, his favorite way to exercise, but Arilyn had a different idea.

Slade grudgingly admitted she didn’t strike him as a used-car salesman. She probed with a pure intention, her melodic voice as graceful as her hip-length strawberry hair and smooth movements. Before he knew it, he’d sunk into the plum chair, soothed and relaxed, and began telling her stuff he’d never confessed before.

Humiliating. She’d gotten him good and scheduled him for a special workout that released negative toxins and got him cleared and open for love.

Yeah. Right.

Still, he signed the contract and was determined to uncover every ridiculous, misguided attempt to take his sister’s money. He pushed through the glass doors and entered a small studio.

Crap. It was hot.

Sweat immediately formed on his brow and it wasn’t just the temperature. Kate stood next to Arilyn, dressed in black yoga pants and matching tank. The Lycra cupped her ass like his fingers itched to do and emphasized the full thrust of her breasts. Her hair was clipped high on her head and gave him full access to the smooth, white flesh of her nape and upper back.

He flicked his gaze quickly away as he hardened. Talk about embarrassing, like a teen sporting a boner from his hot teacher. He turned, thought of his last client, a woman weeping in his office because her husband left her with three kids for his secretary. Biggest cliché of all. Thank God, he got back to normal and crossed the room.

“Morning. Is something wrong with the air?”

Kate grinned. Arilyn cleared her throat and motioned toward the other two men in the room. A large, muscled African American guy sported a shaven head, bulging biceps, and tree-trunk thighs exposed in shorts. The other one was on the skinny side, with red hair, pale skin, and covered from chest to ankle in sweats. Slade perspired more just looking at him.

“Gentlemen, if you’ll join me in a circle, please.”

The men obeyed as they all glanced at each other, obviously uncomfortable. The big guy grunted, his face pulled into a good imitation of Mr. T.

“Let me introduce you quickly. Slade, this is Meat.”

Slade’s eyes widened. “Meat?”

Meat glared. “Got a problem with the name?”

“Nope. Just confirming. Nice to meet you.”

Meat nodded.

“And this is Trent.” Slade greeted the younger one, who looked terrified of what Arilyn would do to him. What kind of counseling was this?

He glanced at Kate, but her bright blue eyes danced with glee, confirming this was going to be bad.

Real bad.

He concentrated on Arilyn’s lilting voice. “Each of us has some issues we need to work through in order to be our better selves. The happier and more satisfied we are, the better our relationships. The body holds stress deep in the muscles and blocks many pathways, especially to our heart chakras. Today, we’re going to engage in a session of hot yoga, which will break down some of the barriers we erected. Kate is going to help me assist as I guide you through different postures. Concentrate on your body and your breathing. If you feel the need to rest, please do so. I’ve filled water jugs for each of you and mats are already set up. Any questions?”

Trent made a strangled sound of horror. “I don’t like taking my shirt off in front of anyone,” he said.

Arilyn nodded. “I understand, but that’s one of the blocks I’d like to work with today. There’s nothing wrong with your body. You’ve been used to hiding behind clothes in order to keep women away. It’s time to let go a bit.”

No. Fucking. Way.

This was not happening to him. Hot yoga? Issues? Yep, Kinnections was as crazy as they come. And he paid one thousand dollars for this?

Slade cleared his throat. “Umm, no offense, but I doubt one session of sweat is going to clear up long-term problems.”

“I agree,” choked Trent.

Arilyn and Kate stared at him. Hard. He refused to shift his feet, even a little. No way would he be intimidated by one slip of a woman. Or two. He demolished cold-hearted jurors who judged him to be the scum of the earth without a blip.

“I understand your concerns,” Arilyn answered. “I’m asking just to have an open mind and give this a chance.”

“I’ll do it.”

Slade jerked back as Meat stepped forward. He left the circle and walked to his purple mat, lowered himself to the floor next to the crazy yellow cushion, and waited for further instruction.

Trent bit his lip and followed.

This was going to be a bad day.

No way was he wimping out. He’d do the silly stretching and report back to his sister they were all loon bugs. He hit the mat, stripped off his shirt, pulled off his socks and shoes, and turned to face them.

Bring it.

Kate grinned.

The session started easy enough. A few salutations to the sun or moon or whatever it was. Some easy pushups. Backbends. Yeah, it was definitely hot, but his muscles actually eased a bit and the tightness from his neck leaked away. Hmm, maybe he was missing this in his normal workout. Soothing flute music drifted from the speakers and wrapped him in calm.

Then it changed.

Arilyn began transitioning into rounds of postures more quickly, and the flute music disappeared to some earthy, urban beat, automatically urging him to pick up the pace. Push-ups melted into crazy half-assed sit-ups, to plank, to backbend, and back again. Over and over, she pushed harder, until his muscles stretched and rivers of sweat trickled down his back.

Grouchiness hit. What was she doing? Why did she look so frickin’ graceful and stronger than the three of them put together? Slade glanced over at his partners. Meat had his eyes closed, panting for breath as he tried to keep up, and Trent moaned and groaned in agony, trying to unstick his sweatshirt from his soaking skin, red hair flopping over his brow.

“A bit faster, gentlemen. Kate’s turning the temperature to the highest setting to release all toxins. Your mind will fight you, but allow your body to surrender.”

He muttered a curse under his breath and tried to ignore the quivering muscles in his biceps. He’d die before he quit. Hell, he’d melt in a pile of goo before they beat him.

“Ahhhhhh!”

A primal shout echoed through the room and jolted him out of his posture. Trent gasped, eyes wild, and ripped off his sweatshirt. Slade prepped himself for something horrible—why else wouldn’t the kid strip. Maybe a third nipple? Scar tissue? But when he sneaked a look Trent looked—

Normal.

A bit lean, but nothing to stop him from going swimming or anything.

The kid seemed to have freed some inner demon, because then he surrendered to the workout, moving like a demon and making low noises that made Slade uncomfortable.

Well, at least there were two real men left in the room.

“Very good, Trent, let it all go. We’re going to start holding our asanas for longer periods to really dig deep.”

Oh, goody.

Meat scowled at Arilyn, and Slade figured all those muscles weren’t too good for continuous, rapid stretches because his foot got stuck by his leg and didn’t make it to the front of the mat. He groaned and tried to inch it forward, looking pissed off and irritated. Slade waited for the explosion, patting himself on the back that they wouldn’t break him.

Kate appeared at Meat’s side and whispered something in his ear. She eased his leg and placed a purple block under his hip. Meat grunted, closed his eyes, and breathed.

Slade decided to amuse himself by mentally reciting landmark cases and the court judges’ briefs. His leg was on fire. So was his skin. He’d never been so uncomfortable or hot in his life, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized he’d only been in the room for fifteen minutes.

They moved out of that torturous position, where he gave a silent prayer of thanks, and Arilyn announced they’d do balancing. Piece of cake.

He’d seen warrior pose in some photos before, and it did look pretty manly. Slade followed her lead, lifting his foot and leaning forward with strength, agility, and confidence.

Then fell on his ass.

Meat and Trent didn’t seem to notice. They held the pose like statues. Kate appeared by his side. “Do you need some help?”

Slade scowled. “Of course not. Mat’s slippery from the heat.”

“Balancing is difficult. Concentrate on your breath and relax.”

He glared. Relax when he now knew what being in the center of a roaring volcano with hot lava was like? They should be arrested for torture. But he didn’t say a word. Just sucked it up and redid the pose. Over. And over.

“Moving into deep backbends, gentlemen. Follow my lead. Go slow, no reaching or pushing ahead. This is not a competition.”

She did something erotically graceful, bending way back and gripping her ankles. Chest up, hair streaming, he figured that was easy enough. He glanced over and saw Trent and Meat a quarter of the way there. Slade hid a smirk and went for it, pushing his back as far as it would go and grabbing his heels.

Which he couldn’t find.

He toppled to the right, off balance, and fell over. Meat snickered in manly competitive code, though he pretended to be deep in the moment with his eyes closed. Trent had a proud smile on his face, his bare, gleaming chest arched in symmetry.

Bastards.

He tried it a few more times and kept falling. Usually he would’ve lied or faked weakness to get Kate’s hands on him in any intimate way, but since it was real he was too stubborn to enjoy her touch until he got hot yoga right.

“Let’s fire it back up and then cool down. Sun Salutation, Ashtanga style. And begin.”

With each round, his mind roared with a bunch of emotions all mingling together in a complete mess. Anger and frustration. Physical discomfort. Ripped pride. A sense of loss. And slowly, something else.

Quiet.

The last five minutes, his body wept sweat, but his mind cleared and seemed almost . . . empty. How odd. His muscles stretched and moved to the music, beyond listening to any rational thought or yelling demand, and sank into the rhythm. As he was guided into some dead pose, lying flat on his back, wondering if he’d ever be able to walk again, a lightness flowed through his body and his breath came way deep.

For the first time in his life, a feeling he’d never experienced invaded his body and soul and mind.

Peace.

Slowly, Arilyn brought them back and they sat in a circle. Sucking down water, exhausted, he waited for some weird type of chant, probably an om, and then he was getting the hell out of Dodge.

“It’s sharing time. Trent, will you go first?”

Slade choked on the water. This was going to get him a relationship? If he had an ounce of energy left, he’d tell them all exactly how nuts they really were and walk out. And he would, as soon as his calves stopped shaking.

Trent nodded. “I got so uncomfortable and crazed that my barriers seemed to break down, and all of a sudden I didn’t care if anyone saw my chest. I was freed. I ripped it off, and I realized it was never important.”

Arilyn smiled. “What a wonderful realization. That is exactly what I wanted you to feel in this session. You’re definitely ready for the next step, right, Kate?”

Kate nodded. “I’ll begin setting up some dates we spoke about.”

“Does anyone want to say something to Trent about his experience?”

Meat turned to him. “Good job,” he said in his low, rich rumble.

Everyone looked at Slade. He shifted slightly. “Umm, you have a good chest, dude. Be proud of it.”

Trent beamed.

“And Meat? Your turn.”

Meat rested his hands on his knees, deep in thought. “Everyone thinks I’m a mean person because I got these muscles and I’m black. That type of prejudice hurts me because I’m judged before I open my mouth. But during that balance pose, I realized I can only present who I am. Some people will judge, some won’t, but I need to be happy with me.”

Slade’s mouth fell open.

Trent grinned and pounded him on the shoulder. Arilyn and Kate practically exuded kindness and love within the circle. “I’m amazed at your insights, Meat, from just one yoga session. We’re all beautiful and struggle with others’ opinions and concepts. You have a true yogi lying within.”

Meat wiped at his eyes. “Thank you.”

Slade watched in horror as four gazes were trained on him. “Slade?” Arilyn prodded gently. “Anything to share?”

Panic hit. Kate cocked her head, but a shred of cynicism gleamed in those baby blues. She didn’t think he’d do it. She assumed he’d chicken out, rant and rave about the ridiculousness of the session, and stalk out. Anticipation hung heavy in the air, as ripe as the body odor of the men next to him.

He cleared his throat and searched madly for something to top them. Something deep and sensitive and mind-boggling. Something to wipe out Kate’s doubts and confirm he was open to this whole nutty experiment. He was an attorney, for God’s sake. “I felt a lot.”

Silence. “Like what?” Arilyn asked gently.

He scratched his head and pushed back damp strands of hair. “I learned that being alone and pushing people away is a mistake.”

Kate lifted a brow. Arilyn sighed. “Please don’t say something that sounds good but isn’t true. There is no judgment in the circle. No right or wrong. What did you actually feel during the session?”

Frustration beat in waves and simmered in his gut. They didn’t believe him? Why didn’t they question Meat or Trent’s heartfelt stories? That’s it, he was so done.

The words tumbled out of his mouth in very un-lawyerlike fashion. “Fine. I felt pissed-off, hot, sweaty, and miserable. I couldn’t do half the poses I should, and I hated every minute.”

“Better. What else?” Arilyn probed.

He let out a breath. “Ah, hell, I got nothing for you. The only thing I noticed was at the end of the session my head was empty. I’m always thinking or planning or hear this noise, and for the first time, it was quiet. Almost peaceful. But it was only a flash and then it was gone. That’s it.”

He tried not to sulk, which was so beneath him, but suddenly everyone smiled and nodded and Meat clapped him on the back.

“Nice work,” Arilyn said. “That’s what I wanted. You see, as a lawyer you’re used to controlling aspects of a situation and expectations of a certain outcome. It’s a part of your daily life. By ripping away that control, stripping you down just for a while, your mind surrendered and let barriers down. That flash you got was important. It was your true self dying to get out.”

Her words crashed over him. He had little time to process, because everyone did a group om—at least he was right about that—and then it was over. Slade chugged the rest of his water, dragged a towel over his face, and watched while Kate chatted with Trent and Meat.

Arilyn packed up and left the studio. After a solid fist bump to regain their manhood, he watched Meat and Trent drift toward the weights, and the glass door shut behind him.

Kate dragged the mats over to the pile, her perky ass high in the air on perfect display. A wave of lust grabbed him in a chokehold, and suddenly he knew the session wasn’t over.

He headed across the room.

KATE CONCENTRATED ON CLEANING up the studio so she wouldn’t have to face the sweaty, irritated, gorgeously sexy client behind her. When Arilyn told her the plan, she had little faith Slade would even participate. Halfway through the grueling class, one glance at his face confirmed he’d never make it. Arilyn was wicked smart when it came to knocking down barriers. Kate had been the recipient of many of her sessions when her frustration with her stuttering caused her to shut down. Kate figured she’d get a kick out of watching Slade’s confident charm slip.

Instead, he’d impressed the hell out of her.

He never quit, and his honesty in the circle was dead-on. He told the truth, after first trying to tell them what he thought they’d want to hear. She’d seen many men storm out during these sessions, not ready to go deep.

Of course, what really pissed her off was his body.

Slade Montgomery was sheer perfection.

Every muscle was lean and defined. Golden hair sprinkled over brown skin reminded her of delicious Honey Nut Cheerios, and she craved a taste. Even sweaty and irritated, he held a core center within him that told her this man knew who he was and didn’t apologize. He liked to win. He liked to get what he wanted. He didn’t apologize for his beliefs and never backed down from a challenge.

Her body wept, so she kept far away, careful not to touch him.

The door shut behind her and she sagged in relief. Finally. Kate dropped the last mat on the pile, pushed it neatly in the corner, and turned.

“Hi.”

She jerked back. He stood before her and dominated her personal space. Hair damp and lying over his forehead, T-shirt sticking to his chest, he smelled rawly masculine and delicious instead of yucky. Damn, the man even sweats musk. How was this fair?

“H-h-hi. Thought you’d left.”

“Not yet. Interesting session. Do you torture all clients equally or just ones you don’t like?”

She fought the smile and tried to ease back, but there was nowhere to go. “There’s no discrimination at Kinnections. You should see some of Arilyn’s other sessions. You got off easy.”

“She’s scarier than a drill sergeant ’cause you don’t see her coming.”

“You did good,” she admitted. Forced herself to hold his gaze, though she felt stripped and vulnerable. Her skin prickled with awareness as the heat surged between them, strangling her air.

“I held my own. Bet you lose a lot of clients forcing them into one-hundred-degree heat.”

She lifted her chin a notch, but he still towered over her. Damn bare feet. “Some do. But if they’re not ready to do some hard stuff in search of love, they’re not meant to be with Kinnections. Relationships aren’t all fluff and fun. It’s tough work.”

“At least you’re preparing them to be strong when the divorce happens.”

Ah, they were back on solid terms. She smirked. “You know, the divorce rate is actually decreasing due to couples living together for longer periods of time. Afraid you’ll be out of a job with me in business?”

He threw back his head and laughed. The growly roar stroked her ears and between her legs like a rough caress. “Statistics can be manipulated to present any conclusions you’d prefer. But the simple fact is first marriages end at a rate of forty-one to fifty percent. Children of divorced parents are four times more likely to divorce, so the numbers will skyrocket. I’ll end up retiring a rich man.”

The verbal sparring leaked into the physical, her body sparking to life as quickly as her brain revved up. Her nipples twisted tight and poked against her Lycra tank. “If everyone lived their life by stats, or fear of taking a chance, we’d be a nation of robots. Love is the only mysterious magic in the world that gives us hope.”

He studied her face, leaning in an inch. Two. “I agree. But magic is an illusion, Kate, just like love. Friendship lasts. Family. But romantic love is just a mirage—a glass of ice-cold Coca-Cola in the middle of the desert. You stumble and reach to quench the thirst, then find the glass vanishes right through your fingers.”

“If you don’t reach and believe in the glass, you’ll die anyway.”

His eyes darkened to a deep forest green. Kate froze, helpless to fight the crazy electric jolts between them, like a magnet forcing an object to cling. His husky whisper wrapped her in intimacy. “At least you die knowing the truth. On your terms.”

She dug deep and rallied. “On your terms, yes. But with a cowardly pride and alone. Don’t you want more than that?”

He leaned in. Kate licked her lips in typical romance novel cliché fashion as if waiting for the kiss. God, how humiliating. She fought for sanity, but her head swarmed with a cottony daze that kept her feet pinned to the ground, helpless under his spell. He was a client. A client. A client. This was bad . . . bad . . . bad . . .

“Why are you so innocent?”

“Why are you so hopeless?” she asked.

“Because my job taught me the truth.”

“So did mine.”

They stared at each other, not moving, barely breathing. Slade muttered something under his breath. She opened her mouth to stop the insanity, step away, and go back to business.

Too late.

He closed the last few inches between them, snagging her around the waist and lifting her up to meet his lips.

Snap.

Crackle.

Pop.

Like Rice Krispies gone berserk, a live jolt of electricity hit her hard, wringing a gasp from her lips. Her insides shuddered, and raw, burning heat poured through her body, lighting her up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.

His fingers tightened around her waist, and his tongue dove deep between her lips, devouring her in a hungry kiss that drove every other thought from her mind except the need for more. Kate moaned under the sensual assault and reached up, stabbing her fingers into his surfer hair and twisting. The kiss devoured her whole. He tasted of coffee and mint and hot masculine need, and like a drunk, she took it all and demanded more. It went on and on, drowning her in pleasure and ratcheting up the lust and drive to get him naked, climb on top of him, and take him between her thighs, turning her into a wild animal she didn’t recognize.

The door opened and a strange voice cut through the air. “Oh! Sorry, dudes, didn’t know you were making out.”

Kate yanked back, her whole body shaking. The charged air shimmered with electricity.

“Holy shit.” Slade looked down at their broken connection. He blinked and shook his head. “What the hell was that?”

Oh. My. God.

The touch. The curse.

Him.

Kate had no time to decipher the crazy flood of emotions that pumped through her. She almost fell backward in a rushed attempt of retreat, stumbled, and madly dashed to the side when he tried to steady her. “N-n-n-no, don’t touch me. T-t-t-that was a mistake.”

Her words caught, tumbled, caught again. Kate scrambled for her center as her stutter grabbed hold and threatened to dominate.

“Kate, wait.”

He put out his hands, palms up. A frown creased his brow, and he didn’t make a move toward her, but panic reared. If he touched her one more time, she’d crumble beneath the crazy need to have him without consequence.

“I h-h-h-have to go. Let’s just forget this happened.”

“Kate!”

She took off and didn’t look back. Scooping up her shoes, she headed through the gym barefoot, shoved her feet into her moccasins at the door, and raced to her Ford Fusion like the last survivor in a horror movie running from a serial killer.

As she pulled out of the lot, Kate realized her lifelong dream of meeting the man meant for her had just occurred. For more than four generations, the touch had bound male to female over and over without fail, confirming a true match of a love slated to last with the right man.

Until now.

Because he was the wrong man.