Page 82 of Tainted Love

I sit up and scan the floor for my slacks as panic sets in. A blitz of worst-case scenarios teases my mind. What if she fell? What if she passed out and hit her head? What if she took off with my car again?

Oh, fuck. What if she took off with my car again?

“Lucy!”

My bare feet tap hard against the stairs as I rush down. I’m wide awake now, searching each room for her usual lounging places. She loves to relax on the couch with a book and the kitchen chairs are the perfect height to rest her foot on, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Lucy!”

I shove the front door open and the tension crashes from my shoulders.

“Shh…” she whispers from the porch floor.

I tilt my head. She’s balanced on her left leg with her left hand planted in front of it. The rest of her is in the air. Her braced knee is stretched out parallel to the floor with her other hand shooting high above her. A perfectly straight line from her fingertips to the floor.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Half-moon pose,” she replies, calm and steady.

I heave a sigh, checking out her tight shorts and tank top. “I see that.”

Lucy rises out of it so quickly my heart lurches, but she keeps her balance the entire time. “You’ve seen my morning routine before.”

“Once,” I say, remembering. “It’s been a while.”

“I felt really good this morning,” she says. She plants her left foot onto the floor and raises her right to hook her fingers in her toes before extending it out to the side. “I didn’t want to waste any more time.”

“You’re not wasting time, Luce,” I say. “You’re healing.”

“I’ve healed,” she says with her eyes closed and her balance on form. “Now, it’s time to start training.”

“I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

“You mean you’re not ready yet.”

I bite my cheek. “I don’t think you should start training until you can, at the very least, stand on your knee.”

She brings her right foot down and lays it flat against the porch. Her eyes open and she stares right at me as she lifts her left ankle off the floor, putting all of her balance into her busted leg.

“Lucy…” I warn, waiting for the moment pain crosses her eyes and her leg collapses beneath her.

It never does.

“Trust me. I can handle a bit of morning yoga, Dante,” she says, her voice solid as stone. “I know my limits.” She lowers her foot and I exhale the breath I’ve been holding since she raised it. “You know… I’ve done this every morning this week.”

I blink. “You have?”

She smiles. “You’ve been sleeping so well. I didn’t want to jinx it.”

My heart flutters. This goddamn woman. She’s somehow managed to be weaker and stronger than me at the same time.

I cup her cheeks, drawing her magnificent face up to kiss her. Her hands settle on my bare waist as I pull her closer to me and hold her there.

She laughs. “You seem a bit high-strung, Mr. Hart,” she teases. “Maybe you’re the one in need of some yoga.”

“Maybe.” I stare down into her fearless eyes and she fills me with her strength. I pinch her pink cheeks, shaking my head to scold her. “Get inside.”

“Yes, sir.”

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