“How much will you be working for GSC Security?”
Knox had followed through and called the security company after returning from Tokyo. He’d passed both interviews. “Two to three days a week for a couple of hours, teaching hand-to-hand defensive tactics.” He took another drink of beer. “Look, I hope you understand that I needed to do something for myself outside the dojo. After I quit wallowing, I realized I’d gotten complacent.”
Ronin looked at him. “I never saw that in you. Just the opposite, in fact.”
“It was a wake-up call when I realized I didn’t have anything to offer the MMA program, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have skills others would find useful. I’ll still be teaching at Black Arts, so it isn’t like you’re getting rid of me. Especially since we’ll officially be family.”
“That’s fucking weird to think about.”
“No doubt. Did you hire a replacement for Shiori?” Knox had nixed her teaching during her pregnancy, and she hadn’t given him any grief about it. She had nagged her brother to hire a woman with at least a third-degree black belt to replace her.
Ronin sighed. “No. A few have expressed interest. I imagine now that Black Arts is paying an above-average salary for all instructors, we’ll have more applicants for all the openings. I’m just damn glad it’s summer and all these changes haven’t affected the students.”
“You still feeling guilty about using your inheritance to fund dojo expansion?”
“Honestly? Not as much as I thought I would. The money is just sitting there. Seems a waste not to use it.” Ronin shot Knox a sly smile. “Does it bother you to be my sister’s kept man?”
He laughed. Oh, if Ronin only knew how true that statement really was. In addition to meeting her scary-ass grandfather in Tokyo, he had gone with Shiori to her club where she’d become Mistress B. Afterward they’d decided they were done with any club scenes since they’d found what they’d been looking for in each other. “Not at all. It’s not like I’m not working. Being part-time at GSC, teaching at Black Arts, and comanaging Black and Blue Promotions with Katie—all adds up to full-time work. After the baby is born and Shiori decides how invested she wants to be in a career at Okada, I’ll need a job with fluidity that’ll allow us to travel with her. I know my Mistress won’t want to be away from me or baby Shox any longer than one night. Her inheritance allows us the luxury of focusing on our family so we both can be hands-on parents.”
Ronin looked at him oddly.
Shit. He’d screwed up and called Shiori Mistress. “What?”
“Baby Shox?”
Whew. Lucky, Ronin had zeroed in on that. “We don’t like calling the baby ‘it’ so she combined our first names; hence baby Shox.”
“Jesus.”
“That name is taken.”
Ronin laughed. “Did you ever think a year ago our lives would be like this? Me married, you about to tie the knot and having a baby and the dojo not the most important thing in our lives?”
“Nope. But I’d always hoped for this.”
“Me too.”
Knox tapped his beer bottle against Ronin’s bottle. “Change is good, brother.”
“Change is very good.”
EPILOGUE
Six months later . . .
SHIORI Lofgren wanted to beat the fuck out of someone.
And by “someone” she meant Knox Lofgren, her husband—the man responsible for putting her in such excruciating pain.
She grunted, and it might’ve turned into a frustrated scream.
“Nushi, come on. You’re almost there.”
“I don’t . . . I can’t . . .” she panted.
His soothing voice burrowed into her ear. “Yes, you can. You are the strongest woman I know. A couple more pushes and we can finally meet our girl.”
She curled her hands more tightly around the metal bars and bore down when Dr. Barr told her to.
“Breathe, baby. That’s good,” Knox cooed, wiping the sweat from her brow.
Shiori waited for the next twisting squeeze of pain, unable to keep up with the breathing exercises. After another hard push, all the internal pressure vanished and she had such a feeling of relief.
“Your baby girl has arrived, Lofgrens!” Dr. Barr said.
Next thing she heard was a loud squawk. Then the nurses rushed her off to the medical equipment.
Shiori looked at Knox. “What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know.”