Fuck.
That didn’t mean shit. Her psycho father could very well have raped her without kissing her.
Not exactly a question I could ask.
She’d need an ultra-gentle touch if that was the case.
Did I have that in me?
Any other time, I’d have walked away in a heartbeat. Too much baggage. God knew my family had enough to deal with.
But something about her…
“You look great,” I said.
“I look ready to work out.”
Couldn’t take a compliment, this one. How far was I willing to go? Did I like her that much? Want her that much?
Fuck, yeah. I did.
She carried a small cooler.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Our protein shakes for after yoga. We’ll need some energy to burn for weights.”
“Sure. Of course. Did you get up early to make them?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you hear the blender?”
“I was in the shower.”
“Oh. Let’s go, then.”
We walked around the bungalows and hotel to a grassy area. The instructor was just setting up. She was a pretty Jamaican woman, her dark skin a nice contrast to the white yoga pants and tank she was wearing.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “I’m Herlinda. We don’t get a lot at this early morning class. It might just be you two.”
But a couple others showed up.
I had no idea how to do yoga, and some of the positions were a little out of my league, but Ruby executed them all beautifully, her muscles flexing.
Damn.
After class, Herlinda warned that we might be sore if we weren’t used to yoga and to use one of the hot tubs at the resort.
Hell, I worked on a ranch. A little yoga wouldn’t take me out.
Ruby opened her cooler, pulled out two thermoses, and handed one to me. I opened it and looked at the thick shake inside.
“Uh…Ruby?”
“Yeah?”
“This is green.”
She laughed. “Yes, it is.”