Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Look in the glove compartment,” I tell her.
She snaps her gaze to me. Mouth tight. She’s constantly waiting for a disaster. Like she thinks there’s going to be a hand grenade in there.
“Why?” she asks nervously.
“Just look,” I say softly. “It’s a good thing. A gift.”
“You don’t need to get me gifts,” she says quietly.
“And you don’t need to be so stubborn,” I counter.
She finally reaches forward and opens the compartment. When she takes out the book, she gasps. Looks at me again with fresh eyes. “The Wonderful World of Gunnison Peaks: Photos and Fancies.” She opens the hardcover. “Wow, these are beautiful. Look at the trails.” She turns more pages. “I didn’t even know half of these existed.”
“That book was my dad’s,” I tell her.
She shuts it. “Then it’s too much.”
“It’s not,” I say fiercely. “Before we moved, he bought a few of those books when we were deciding where to settle down. When I came here, I brought it with me… And I want you to have it.”
“Rhett…”
“The way your face lit up just now, Elle. It’s worth it. Please.”
I grind my teeth. Stare at the road. My voice is too husky. But I can’t help it. Maybe I don’t want to.
“Thank you,” she says softly, reaches across and lays her hand on my arm for a moment that feels like it lasts minutes. “That’s really thoughtful.”
I open the dojo and led them up a set of stairs. At the edge of the mat, I slip off my sneakers. “Barefoot, please,” I say.
Mira takes her shoes off. Steps onto the mat. Turns in a slow circle and looks at the mirrors surrounding us and the medals on the walls. “Whoa, this place is really cool.”
“Lots of mirrors,” Elle says, taking her shoes off and joining us.
I look at our reflections. Me looming over Elle, Elle standing at my side, curvy, nervous, and attractive as hell. She looks at the mirror with a pursed mouth, as if she doesn’t like the sight. And that makes me want to roar.
Does she really not know how beautiful she is?
“We’ll do some striking first,” I say.
“Like when people want to get paid more, and they don’t go to work?” Mira asks in confusion.
That breaks Elle’s spell. She laughs gorgeously as she caresses her sister’s hair. “I think he means punching and kicking, angel.”
“I knew that.” Mira huffs. “I was joking.”
I go to the equipment rack, get a set of child and adult boxing gloves, then some pads. In the reflection, I catch Elle watching me. She’s got her legs pressed together. Like she’s fighting the lust there. Pressing her thighs together to stop the—
No, fuck no. I need to stop.
I clear my head. Focus. Tame myself as much as I’m able to around this magnetic miracle.
“Put these on,” I say, handing them the gloves. “I’ll teach you some basics about striking.”
Mira slips one hand into her glove, then struggles with the second. I kneel and help her. She looks at me with a big smile.
“Okay, let’s start with the basics,” I say, standing up. “I want you to stand like this. Your stance is very important. It’s how you get power in your strikes. And it’s how you keep your balance if somebody tries to hit you. To begin with, we’re going to walk across the room, that’s all. In our stance.”
I show them the right way, then begin crab-walking across the room.
They’re good students, paying close attention. But on the fourth lap, Mira exclaims, “Can we hit something, please?”
I chuckle and walk over. “Sure, but only if you promise to keep that stance and keep your hands up.”
She raises her hands over her head. “Like this up?”
Elle’s laugh is the best sound in the world, I swear. A balm for a broken soul.
“No, like this,” I say, showing her. “To cover your face. And when you hit, your hands always come back to the same position. Like this.” I jab the air, then return my hands to the space in front of my face.
“Okay, like this, yeah?” She does the same, hitting the air. She even does some hip rotations without me needing to tell her.
“That’s excellent, Mira!”
She beams. “Let’s do it. I’m a ninja girl!”
I kneel and put on the striking pads, then raise my hands. “Okay. Hit the pads. Don’t worry about how hard you can do it. Just remember what I’ve taught you.”
She huffs, hitting for about three minutes. I can tell she’s tired, but she pushes through it. Elle stands off to the side. Emotion welling in her eyes.
Finally, Mira falls back and collapses on the mat. “Okay, I’m tired now,” she says, giggling. “Can I have a break, please, Mister Ninja Man?”
I chuckle. “There’s a computer in the office if you want to play some games on it?”