by Devney Perry
“Okay.” I toed off my shoes and put them in a free cubby with my car keys.
Damn it. I should have painted my toenails. The red I’d chosen weeks ago was now chipped and dull.
“I’m Olivia, by the way.” She leaned closer to whisper. “When we’re in here, you can just call me Olivia, but when we’re in the waiting area or dojo, you should always call me Olivia Sensei.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“It’ll just be a few more minutes until the kids’ class is done.” Olivia led me back out to a waiting area. “You can just hang out here and then we’ll get started.”
“Okay. Thank you again.”
She smiled and disappeared back to the reception area.
I stood quietly in the waiting room, trying to blend into the white walls as I peeked into the dojo.
The class was over and the kids were all lining up to bow to their teachers. Senseis. One little boy was wiggling his toes on the blue mats covering the floor. Two little girls were whispering and giggling. An instructor called for attention and the kids’ backs all snapped straight. Then they bent at the waist, bowing to the senseis and a row of mirrors spanning the back of the room.
The room erupted in laughter and cheers as the kids were dismissed from their line and funneled out the door. Most passed me without a glance as they went to find their parents or change in the locker rooms.
My nerves spiked as the kids cleared the exercise room, knowing it was almost time for me to go in there. Other adult students were coming in and out of the locker rooms, and I was now even more aware that I would be the only person tonight not wearing white.
I hated being new. Some people enjoyed the rush of the first day of school or a new job, but not me. I didn’t like the nervous energy in my fingers. And I really didn’t want to make a fool of myself tonight.
Just don’t fall on your face.
That was one of two goals for tonight: survive, and stay upright.
I smiled at another female student as she emerged from the locker room. She waved but joined a group of men huddled on the opposite wall.
Not wanting to eavesdrop on the adults, I studied the children as they buzzed around until a commotion sounded in the lobby.
Determined not to show fear to whoever came my way, I forced the corners of my mouth up. They fell when a man stepped into the waiting area.
A man I hadn’t seen in five years, one month and three days appeared in the room.
The cop who’d told me my husband had been murdered.
Poppy Maysen.
Holy fuck.
Poppy Maysen was standing in my dojo.
“Hi, Sensei.”
“Hey,” I replied automatically, turning from Poppy to acknowledge a student as he walked past.
It didn’t take long for my gaze to wander back to Poppy. She was standing frozen against the wall, staring at me like she’d seen a ghost.
How long had it been? Five years? The last time I’d seen her, she’d been asleep on her living room couch, trembling from the nightmare I’d delivered to her doorstep.
And now she was here, dressed in gym clothes and waiting to take a karate class. To take my karate class.
“Hey, Cole.” Danny, a teenaged black belt, slapped my arm as he walked by.
I was standing right in the way of people coming and going to the locker rooms, staring at Poppy like a fool. “Hi, Danny.”
I tore my eyes away from her again and shuffled aside. When I glanced back over, she hadn’t moved.
What was going on in her head? Was she about to bolt? My face had probably triggered an onslaught of bad memories. And me standing here, gawking at her, probably wasn’t helping.
Shit. I forced one foot in front of the other, giving her a slight nod as I disappeared into the men’s locker room. If she was still in the waiting room by the time I got out, I’d be shocked, but I’d say hello. Maybe a few minutes would give her—and me—a chance to get over the surprise of being in the same room once again.
“Hi, Cole Sensei.”
“Hey, boys.” I greeted a couple of the younger kids in the dressing room as they tied on their shoes. “Did you learn anything new today?”
The kids started yammering on about the new punches they’d learned in class tonight, though neither could remember the Japanese names. I tuned them out, dropping my duffel bag on a bench and raking a hand through my hair.
Poppy Maysen.
What had she been doing these last five years? What had become of her life? I hadn’t kept tabs on her after that awful night, but now I wished I had.
She was just as stunning now as she had been years ago.
Loose waves of long, ginger hair. Skin as flawless and creamy as melted ice cream. For a redhead, Poppy didn’t have the typical smattering of freckles—just a few on the bridge of her nose. And those cornflower-blue eyes. Still hauntingly beautiful, just like they’d been on her porch. I’d never forget the moment the fire behind them had smoldered out.
“Bye, Sensei!”
“Bye,” I called as the boys walked out the door. Hopefully they hadn’t said anything important because I hadn’t registered a word they’d said.
Fuck. Poppy Maysen.
I ran into people all the time from the past, but none of them had shocked me this much. And if I didn’t get a handle on it, I’d be falling all over myself in class.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I slid the sunglasses out of my collar and tossed them on the bench. Then I zipped open my bag and hurried to change from jeans and a black polo into my white gi. With my black belt tied around my hips, I sucked in another long breath. A few other guys were changing, but I kept my back to them, needing just a minute to get my head on right.
Had she found a way to spark that fire behind her eyes again? I really wanted to find out. That was, if she wasn’t already miles away from the dojo, never to return again.
“See you out there.” I nodded to the other guys and pushed the locker room door open.
Poppy was still standing in her spot against the wall. Her eyes darted between the people crowded in the waiting area. It was loud as everyone visited before class, and she hadn’t noticed me slip out of the locker room. And despite her obvious nerves, she kept a small smile on her stoic face.
Graceful strength.
Poppy had a graceful strength. I’d thought the same all those years ago. I’d never seen a person so devastated, yet collected. She hadn’t screamed or cried or lashed out. She’d just . . . kept it together. In all my time with the Bozeman Police Department, I’d never met anyone—cop or civilian—who had handled a trauma like she had.
Poppy hadn’t noticed me yet so I took my opening and slid into the empty wall space at her side. I leaned down and spoke softly. “Hi.”
Her face whipped to mine, then she swallowed and blinked. While I’d been in the dressing room, she had apparently steeled herself for our next encounter. “Hello.”
Hello. Even her voice affected me. Five years ago, the words she’d spoken had all been full of pain. But now? Her voice was so clear. There was nothing soft or timid about it. Nothing jaded or raspy. It was the purest voice I’d ever heard.
Nonchalantly wiping the sweat from my palm, I held out my hand. “I’m Cole Goodman.”
“Poppy Maysen.”
I nodded. “I remember.”
Poppy’s eyes darted to my hand still outstretched between us and back up to my face. Then, slowly, her delicate fingers fit themselves into mine. The minute her soft skin brushed my calloused palm, a zing of electricity traveled up my arm.
While I froze, Poppy’s breath hitched.
We stared at each other, still holding hands, and probably looking like crazy people to the other students standing around, but I didn’t care. Not when Poppy’s hand was still in mine and she hadn’t made a move to take it back.
“Cole. Got a sec?” Robert called out from his office.
“Yeah.” I kept Poppy’s hand for another second
before letting it go and walking to the office. I resented every step away from her side.
Robert, my instructor and the owner of the dojo, was sitting at his desk with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose as he flipped through a stack of messages. His hair had started to thin last year so he’d shocked us all this week by coming to the dojo with a freshly shaven scalp. I’d been taking karate from Robert for nearly two decades, ever since I’d been in high school, and his new look was still throwing me off.
“What’s up?” I took the chair in front of his desk.
“Can you take that new gal tonight? She called to try the intro class but I kind of spaced it. I’d teach her but I need to spend some time working with the brown belts tonight to see who might be ready to advance.”
“You got it.” I hoped it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her because I wanted some extra time with Poppy, a chance to learn what she’d been up to in the last five years. To see how she’d recovered from that night. Maybe figure out why I’d reacted so strongly to her after only thirty seconds.
“How’s work?” Robert asked, taking my thoughts away from Poppy.
“Busy. We kicked off the new drug task force today.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
Overdue, really. As a former cop, Robert knew the drug problem in the area was becoming unmanageable. He’d retired from the county sheriff’s department years ago, making karate his full-time job, but the drug trade had been escalating even when he’d been on the force.
“Did that idiot chief of police at least put you in charge of the task force?”
I grinned. “He did.”
Robert grinned back. “Maybe your dad’s not so stupid after all.”
I chuckled. Robert and Dad never missed a chance to jest with one another, even if the other wasn’t in the room. Their friendship was the reason I’d started karate at the age of seven—Dad liked to bring me along when he met up with Robert to practice.
“Robert Sensei? Can I—” Olivia came into the office from the lobby but stopped short. “Oh, um, hey, Cole Sensei.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and studied the floor, trying to hide her red cheeks.
“Whatcha need, Olivia?” Robert asked.
“I’m, uh . . .” She fidgeted for a moment, looking between the floor and the door. When her eyes came back to mine, she spun around and left.
“Jeez,” Robert muttered. “Not another one.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, it’s not my fault.”
I couldn’t help that Olivia had developed a bit of a crush on me this past year. Her and her seventeen-year-old friends. Not only was it fucking weird—I’d taught some of them since they were little kids—it was pissing Robert off because they’d all huddle in the back of the dojo and giggle.
“You could help me out here.” Robert stood from his chair.
“How? Stop coming here?” I couldn’t help the face I was born with and I damn sure wasn’t going to let my body go just because of some twitterpated teenagers. “I basically ignore them already. Do you want me to be a dick to them and scar them for life?”
“No,” he muttered. “At least bring Aly in every once in a while so these girls can see you’re taken.”
Not happening.
Now wasn’t the time to give Robert an update, but Aly wouldn’t be at the dojo anytime soon, at least not on my arm.
I stood and followed Robert back into the waiting area. He kept walking into the dojo, bowing in the doorway before he entered, but I stopped in front of Poppy. “We’re going to get started.”
She nodded and forced a nervous smile. “Sounds good.”
“You’ll be with me tonight.”
Her eyes got a bit wider. “Okay.”
Was she scared to be around me or just anxious about the class? Probably both, but I didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable, so I jumped right into teacher mode. “We bow before we enter or leave the dojo.”
“Got it.” She nodded and pushed off the wall.
I took the lead, demonstrating the proper technique before stepping inside and onto the mats. Poppy followed, maintaining a three-foot distance between us as she took in the space.
“You’ll be over there to bow in.” I pointed to the back wall. “Just follow the instructions from Robert Sensei. After that, we’ll do a workout. Do as much as you can but don’t go overboard. Then you and I will work together the rest of the class. Sound okay?”
She nodded but didn’t meet my eyes.
“Poppy.” Her eyes rose to mine when I whispered her name. “It will be more fun if you just relax.”
“I’m not really here for fun, I’m here . . . I’m just out of my comfort zone.” As she spoke, she flailed her hands, her wrists spinning in circles.
Poppy Maysen talked with her hands.
And it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.
Unable to hide my grin, I stepped into her space, savoring the way her breath caught. She felt the electricity between us just as strongly as I did.
“If it gets to be too much, just give me a signal. Maybe that wrist spin thing you just did.” Her eyes narrowed and I smiled wider. “Easy, killer. I’m just teasing you.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Do you tease all of your new students?”
“Maybe.” I smiled. “So, what have you—”
“Line up!” Robert called.
Poppy spun around and dashed to the line with the other students, and I joined the instructors up front as class got underway. The entire time, my eyes stayed locked on Poppy. She was doing her best to hide it, but she kept glancing at me too.
That was, until her attention became solely focused on trying to keep up with the workout.
Robert had gone back into the office and picked a younger instructor, Danny, to lead the exercise. The punk had taken it as free rein to torture everyone. I wasn’t having a hard time keeping up—hell, I’d barely broken a sweat—but Poppy and everyone else on that side of the room looked miserable.
There was no denying Poppy was fit. In those tight leggings and second-skin tank top, her body left little to the imagination, but a karate workout was a different animal. And Danny was pushing too hard, even for some of the senior students.
“That’s enough,” I told Danny when he called for another set of fifty push-ups. We’d already done a hundred.
“Having trouble keeping up, Cole Sensei?” The little shit puffed out his chest.
“That’s good, everyone,” I called, overruling Danny with a pointed stare. “Go ahead and get a drink.”
Poppy pushed up from the floor to walk to the water fountain. Her face was flushed and her forehead sweaty, but damn if those pink cheeks didn’t make her look even more beautiful. The image of her lying next to me in bed, her cheeks flushed from a different kind of workout, popped into my head.
Fuck.
The last thing I needed was to get a hard-on under my gi. Luckily, the top hung low enough to hide my quick adjustment while everyone was in line for water.
“Now that’s an ass worth squeezing,” Danny whispered, his eyes glued to Poppy’s ass. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say it out loud, but I saw red. He was right, her ass was spectacular, but he didn’t get to say that out loud.
“Watch it, Danny.” I clamped my hand on his shoulder and dragged him out of the line. “You went too far with that workout. We don’t push that hard when we’ve got guest students and you know it. I was willing to let that go, but you just crossed the line. You’ve got suicide drills and pull-ups for the rest of class. If I see you slacking, then we’ll stay late and do another workout until you learn the limits. Understood?”
His face paled. “I’m sorry, Sensei.”
“We treat women with respect, inside and outside of this dojo. Think it. Don’t speak it.” I pointed to the far side of the room and loomed to my full six-foot-two height. “Now get to work.”
He nodded, his shoulders drooping as he wal
ked away.
After everyone else had taken a drink, I slurped some water from the fountain and then motioned for Poppy to join me in the far corner of the room.
She wiped her brow with the back of her left hand, her wedding rings glinting in the overhead light.
“It’s okay for tonight,” I pointed to her ring finger, “but next time, you’ll want to take those off. Better to leave them in the locker room than jam your finger and have them cut off at the hospital.”
“Um . . .” She dropped her hand and inspected the emerald engagement ring and white-gold wedding band. “I haven’t taken these off since Jamie . . . you know.”
“Oh, uh, right.” I guess I didn’t need to ask if she’d gotten remarried—not if she was still wearing her late husband’s rings. “Well, just think about it for next time. Are you doing okay after the workout?”
“I’m alive and I haven’t fallen on my face.” She smiled. “That’s a win for me tonight.”
I chuckled. “Then we’ll make sure you get through the next thirty minutes on your feet and call it good.”
“I’d like that.”
I spent the next few minutes teaching her about her stances and how to take the proper semicircular steps. When she had that down, I asked her to make a fist.
“Like this?”
“Not quite.” I took her hands in mine to adjust her grip, but the moment we touched, I forgot all about karate.
My eyes locked with hers as both of us froze, and the other people in the dojo disappeared. Just like that handshake in the hallway, her touch blocked out the world and sent fire blazing through my veins.
And right to my cock.
I broke away fast, needing a moment to think asexual thoughts before I made things really awkward. “Um . . .” I motioned her forward. “Go ahead and practice a few more steps like I just showed you.”
“Sure.” Her musical voice didn’t help my growing erection.
While she stepped toward the mirrors, I searched my brain for unsexy images and did my best to avoid staring at her slender legs. I stared at Robert’s bald head. The sweat drops on the mats. Danny’s hairy feet. I rotated through them all and by the time Poppy walked back to my side, the swelling in my boxers was at least manageable.
