by Montana Ash
“I’m heading to the beach for a yoga session. Anyone want to join?” Lark asked, slinging a flexible blue mat over his shoulder as he headed to the back door on the opposite side of the room to her. He was wearing plain black pants that rode low on his hips and ended at his calves in a cuff, as well as a loose fitting grey tee with a picture of a rabbit on it. Really? A rabbit? It just served to prove how painfully young the earth paladin was.
“Yoga?” Dex asked, seemingly coming out of his love-stupor. “You really do yoga?”
“Lark is our resident yoga guru,” Cali announced, proudly. “He’s the reason I’m able to do that Sunday Special you enjoy so much,” she informed Dex with a saucy wink.
“Cali, please!” Darius reprimanded.
The blonde’s face was a mask of innocence, “What?”
“You’re pregnant! You shouldn’t be talking about things like …” he trailed off, apparently not able to finish the rest of the sentence and Ivy noted the tips of his ears were turning an interesting shade of red.
Cali was grinning now – as well as most of the occupants in the room, “Things like what?” she prodded.
“And what does being pregnant have to do with anything?” Max quickly followed up.
“Good question, my liege,” Cali bowed her head, looking respectful for all intents and purposes but Ivy doubted anyone was fooled by that look. She knew they all gained too much sick pleasure from poking fun at the by-the-rules air paladin.
“Cali …” Darius sounded even more aggrieved as he turned to his brother, “Can’t you control your woman?”
Dex cast a rather salacious look towards his lover, “Now, why would I want to do a thing like that?” he grinned as Darius growled, “Are you going to tell me you have your own woman under control?”
“Of course I do!” Darius’s assertion was firm and immediate.
“Oh, really?” Diana asked quietly from behind his left shoulder. Ivy would bet Darius could feel the breath on the back of his neck and had no doubt it felt hot enough to scorch.
“No, not really,” Darius’s chuckle was forced and fear-filled, “I was just joking.”
Dex snorted, “Uh huh, ‘cause we all know how much of a comedian you are.”
Darius let out an unmanly yelp as Diana tugged on a lock of his hair – hard – and Dex burst out laughing, “Fat lot of help you are,” Darius grumbled at his brother.
A sharp whistle had multiple heads whipping toward the back door, “Focus, people. Yoga. Beach. Now. Any takers?”
A series of ‘no’s’ and ‘not today’s’ met Lark’s question and he nodded before placing his hand on the doorknob. Ivy wanted to sigh in relief; the sight of the lean paladin was getting to her. How the hell was she supposed to work one-on-one with the man? She ruthlessly shut off her brain as it tried to conjure very detailed ways of how they could quite effectively ‘work’ together. Unfortunately, he didn’t step out immediately, instead turning to face the table once again;
“What about you, Dex? If you like the Sunday Special, wait until you try the Friday Special,” Lark ribbed, clearly unable to stop from joining in the teasing.
See; immature, Ivy sternly reminded herself.
Dex laughed, “Although I appreciate the sentiment, I was hoping for a hard workout this morning. You know – get the heart rate up and the sweat pouring.”
Lark raised his eyebrows at that, “Well then, you should definitely join me.”
“Um …” Ivy watched as Dex looked around the room, clearly trying to think of a polite way to call bullshit on that statement. Apparently, Dex had never tried yoga before because Ivy knew if he had, he wouldn’t be questioning the strenuousness of the workout.
“You have a problem with yoga?” Lark’s green eyes narrowed in the reformed chade’s direction but Ivy was certain it was in mock insult.
“No. Not at all,” he hunched his shoulders a little when he realised he was now the centre of attention, “It just wasn’t a big thing back when I was last in society, so I haven’t tried it before. But I know it’s really good for you for a lot of reasons …” he spoke quickly, obviously fearing he had caused offence.
“Relax, Dexter.” Lark chuckled and walked over, slapping him on the back in a friendly way, “I’ll tell you what; you join me this morning for an hour of yoga and if your heart rate doesn’t get up as high as it would on the treadmill and you’re not as sore as if you’ve done a bunch of reps on the weight bench, I’ll take over all your kitchen duties for a month.”
Dex narrowed his dark eyes – eyes that were no longer black, but certainly weren’t the light hazel they had been rumoured to have been, “And what do you get out of it?”
“Well … if it turns out to be one of the hardest workouts you’ve had, you unstack the dishwasher whenever it’s my turn,” Lark offered.
Dex raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Unstack the dishwasher?”
Lark nodded, causing his sun-streaked auburn hair to flop into his eyes, “Yep. I hate doing that. I pack the thing and then an hour later I have to unpack it again. It’s redundant.”
“Redundant?” Dex asked, sounding perplexed.
“Uh huh. So … what say you?” Lark held out a hand.
Ivy watched as Dex considered the proffered hand for a moment, looking around the room, perhaps for guidance. But eyes and faces were suspiciously diverted and were clearly of no help, “I’ll take that bet. One hour” he stated, shaking Lark’s hand firmly.
Lark’s wicked grin evolved slowly and there was a definite glint of evilness in his eyes if Ivy wasn’t mistaken. Oh dear, seems Lark was going to put Dex through an advanced class of yoga his first time out. She almost winced in sympathy for how Dex’s muscles were going to feel in two days but caught herself in time. She was a Ranger – she didn’t sympathise with anyone or anything. Or at least, that was the persona she portrayed to the world. She was pretty sure everyone here thought she was a stone-cold bitch – an image she had taken years to cultivate, it was true. So why was she now wanting these people to see her as something else? She firmed her jaw and gave herself a stern lecture about going soft before catching the end of the discussion.
“Excellent,” the earth paladin literally rubbed his hands together in glee. “Go ahead and change into something loose and comfortable.”
Dex looked confused again, “Loose? Aren’t you supposed to wear tight stuff for yoga?”
Lark shrugged, “I’m sure Ryker will let you borrow his leotard if you ask nicely.”
A swift motion from the corner of her eye preceded a small throwing knife thunking into the wood mere inches from Lark’s head. The owner of the head didn’t seem to have the good sense the Mother had blessed him with, for he merely chuckled and pulled the blade free.
“Ryker!” Max reprimanded. “You’ll damage the wood,” she said, hurrying over to examine the door frame. “Wait, is that what all these marks are? From you Neanderthals throwing knives at each other?”
The men quickly found various mundane objects exceedingly interesting; Lark and Ryker began examining the door knob, Axel picked at a hole in his shirt, Darius unfolded the newspaper loudly, and Beyden quickly gulped down the contents of his mug. Judging by his suddenly bulging eyes, Ivy figured the coffee was still extremely hot.
Cowards, she thought and was surprised when the one word rebounded in her skull in amusement rather than disgust. She could see Dex grinning openly now and she fought not to move her own lips when he gave her a friendly nod as if including her in the private joke. Just because she was sharing her vitality with the man, didn’t mean she needed to become friends with him.
Dex stood up, “Okay, I’ll go change. But isn’t anyone else going to take that bet?” Dex asked the room at large.
Axel snorted, rocking his chair negligently back on two legs, “Dude, we’ve all taken that bet.”
“And …?” Dex enquired.
“And have you seen Lark unpack the dishwasher even once since you arrived?
” The Captain himself asked.
Dex seemed to think about that for a moment before narrowing his eyes in Lark’s direction, “You’ve snowed me, haven’t you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lark assured him, innocence dripping from his voice.
Axel laughed, “Just go get changed, dish-pig.”
“Dish-pig?!” Dex exclaimed.
Axel grinned, “That’s what you’re gonna be in about one hour. Be prepared to sweat, my friend.”
FIVE
Wow … and I thought I was cold, Ivy thought as she watched the entire household leave a begging Dex on the sand, repeating one word over and over. Watching Lark put Dex through his paces had been as entertaining as it had been stimulating. After everyone had filed out of the house to heckle poor Dex, she had tried hard to remain aloof and uninterested in the kitchen. However, several wolf whistles and bouts of raucous laughter later, she had been helpless to resist peeking out the window. And what she had seen had almost made her swallow her tongue.
It wasn’t the once esteemed Charlemagne-come-felon twisted into a strange and painful-looking pretzel that had her eyes bugging out of her head. No, it was the lean, muscular form of Lark with his smooth lines, flexible body, and undeniable skill. One look at him mastering the Firefly pose and she had made her way swiftly from the seclusion of the house and out to the noisy audience lining the sand.
Lark’s legs had been raised and stretched out in front of him so they were parallel to the ground as his forearms held his entire body weight. The difficult pose was only for those who practised yoga at an advanced level. She knew because she had been trying to master it herself for over a year. She was strong and disciplined in both mind and body yet she could never balance her centre of gravity properly in order to achieve the tricky position. But Lark had accomplished it so effortlessly. It was obvious the man was truly skilled and was no amateur like she had assumed.
She had figured he practised some stretches and breathing, maybe a little meditation, as a weekend hobby. But as she watched the natural light hit every disciplined line of his body, she had felt a curious flutter in her stomach – like maybe she had been wrong. And if she was wrong about one thing, was it possible she was wrong about others?
One thing she hadn’t been wrong about; Lark sure was pretty to look at. The only negative had been that the man hadn’t once removed his shirt to show off what she was sure were a bunch of sinewy muscles. Picturing a man’s muscles – sinewy or not – on someone who was young enough to be her son was unacceptable. Instead, she forced herself to focus on the object at her feet.
“Water, water, water,” came the pathetic whimpers from the heap of sweaty, tired flesh lying on the beach – rather close to the waves now, given the tide was coming in.
Casting her eyes toward the house, she waited hopefully – and fruitlessly – for anyone else to ride to the reformed man’s rescue. But after a solid thirty seconds of listening to nothing but whines and ragged breathing, she accepted the fact that no-one was coming. Not even his fiancé. Expelling an annoyed breath, she said;
“Get up.”
“Water …” was the thin reply.
Rolling her eyes, she squatted down in front of him, “If you don’t move, you’re soon going to have more water than you know what to do with. The tide is coming in,” she informed him.
He flung an arm back and began searching blindly, for what – she had no idea. He just kept feeling around with his hand and she couldn’t help but think it looked remarkably like Thing from the Addams Family, “What are you doing?” she finally asked.
“I’m seeking aid, woman! You’re supposed to help me up,” was his muffled reply because his face was still buried in the sand.
“Do I look like a servant to you?” she snapped, almost instantly regretting her tone. There was no point taking out her poor mood on Dex. But she didn’t apologise.
“Sheesh, Ivy. Will you loosen up?” Dex reprimanded as he finally rolled to his back. His face and body were completely covered with sand thanks to the sheen of sweat that layered his torso and limbs. But even as she watched, a gust of wind kicked up and the sand disappeared almost instantly.
“Neat trick,” she acknowledged.
“Thanks. Cali thinks so too,” he flashed a teasing smile up at her.
Although he no longer looked half dead and his breathing no longer resembled a smoking asthmatic, he made no attempt to move even as the waves began to kiss his feet. He seemed to be staring at her, so she did what she did best and completely ignored him.
“You’re really not going to give me a hand?” he asked, sounding curious.
“Don’t I help you enough?” she returned, unable to help her waspish replies. Old habits die hard.
“Indeed you do. Perhaps I don’t thank you enough for that …” he offered, sounding chastised and genuine.
She sighed, feeling about an inch tall, “There’s no need. I volunteered.”
“Doesn’t make it any less of a sacrifice or a duty,” he assured her.
“Whatever,” she muttered, feeling uncomfortable. She hadn’t come down here for a deep and meaningful. For some reason, her response made him smile and he held his hand out to her once more. Resigned to the inevitable, she grasped his arms at the wrist and felt him return the gesture as she used her body weight to lever him to his feet. It was no small feat either, given the man was practically dead weight.
He groaned as he straightened, rubbing his lower back, “I am so going to feel this in the morning. That man is a yoga shark.”
The comment startled her into a spontaneous reaction and she turned to him quizzically, “A yoga shark?”
“Yeah, you know, like a pool shark except with yoga. I was played,” he admitted, looking very sheepish, “I should have known better. Lark is a master of all trades and Jack of none.”
Ivy snorted at that. Just because the guy could pull off the Firefly pose didn’t mean he was good at everything.
“Problem?” Dex inquired.
Ivy glanced at him before looking quickly away, not liking the curiosity on his face but liking the hint of censure even less. “No problem,” she assured him.
Dex rolled his neck on his shoulders, eliciting several loud cracks from the vertebrae, “Really? Because you seem tense.”
She threw him a look from the corner of her eye, “I’m always tense.”
“No. You’re always stiff,” he corrected, “not tense. Big difference.”
“Whatever,” she shrugged. She loved that one word. It covered so many bases and was a far politer way of saying piss off.
“You know if you want me to fuck off, you could just say it,” Dex pointed out, mildly.
She was completely caught off guard for once, turning to face him and stuttering; “Huh? What?”
“That tone you use – you’re saying one thing but you really mean ‘fuck off and mind your own business’, right?” he laughed, quietly. “Darius is the master of the exact same thing. As a kid, he was always so contained and rational. He kept everything bottled up and smiled for the world when inside he was getting ready to explode. It would take weeks of me poking at him and teasing him to get him to finally open up. He was stubborn, even as a child. But I became a master at dragging the truth from him. It’s not a skill that goes away,” he informed her. “Now, if we had weeks at our disposal, I could pick at you day in and day out until you erupted but we don’t have that kind of time. You’ll be heading out soon with Lark and –”
She couldn’t contain the grimace that transformed her face at the mention of that name and she knew Dex saw it when he raised his eyebrows;
“Ah, so that’s your problem. Lark.”
She struggled to maintain her composure and keep her mouth shut. She felt too comfortable with the affable man – that was the problem. She didn’t want to admit it but providing vitality to Dex had made her feel closer to him. It was hard to remain aloof when you were sharing life-sustainin
g energy. He wasn’t a friend – she wouldn’t call him that – but she could admit he wasn’t an enemy or a stranger. Although he was no longer the celebrated man she had studied in her history books, he was still a good man – far more decent than many she knew – and the urge to talk to him was strong.
“Just spit it out. Did you already forget what I said about Darius?” Dex sounded exasperated.
She threw her hands up in the air, “Yes, I have a problem with Lark. Why wouldn’t I have a problem walking neck-deep into enemy territory with a kid who’s young enough to be my son? A kid who lives to smile and joke and please others. I mean, come on, Dex! He probably doesn’t even have callouses!”
Dex had watched her impartially throughout her entire rant but he frowned at her now, “Do you really think Max would have an incompetent knight in her Order, let alone entrust such an important task to one?”
“I don’t know, Dex. I barely know the woman. Who knows why she does the things she does.”
“Now I know you’re lying, Ivy. You must know Max just as well as I do, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing that brand on your upper arm. So, I’ll ask you again; if Max didn’t trust Lark as a warrior, why is he in her Order?”
“Because she loves him,” the answer was obvious to her.
“That she does. She loves everyone in that house and everyone standing out here too. She can’t seem to help herself. But that’s beside the point. You don’t respect him,” he stated.
She knew who him was, so she answered, “He’s a kid.”
“He’s a man and a paladin,” Dex corrected, “Born to protect and serve nature’s caretakers. He’s a soldier, Ivy. Just like you.”
