Page 24 of Assigned

Chapter Nine

Lucas

The beach is quieter than normal; only a few joggers and swimmers are here. Seaweed rolls in the surf as white caps slap against the shore. It’s not too hot and the cool breeze is refreshing. My wife is walking along beside me holding my hand. Perfect day for the beach. Perfect day for yoga.

I can’t believe we’ve been married almost a month now. Time sure does fly by, and work doesn’t seem to help. But I’m doing the best I can and so far Riley seems to be adapting well. Then again, unlike Texas, she doesn’t have to travel far to hit the waves to surf. And my wife seems to make it to the beach at least once a week, gauging by the sand she tends to leave behind in the garage.

“It’s been so long since I’ve done any poses. Your mom would be so upset.” Riley walks into the water a little way, flinching when her feet hit the cold water.

I laugh and the few seagulls in the area begin squawking as if joining in. Riley pouts, then kicks water my way. I jump back, only a few drops managing to land on my clothes. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to go swimming, and the ocean is cold as fuck right now.”

She puts her fisted hands on her hips and lifts her chin. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I quirk a brow. “Try me.”

She looks from me to the water, then back at me, biting her lower lip. She kicks water my way again, but not much, then dashes away toward our blankets. I laugh and chase her. Would I actually throw her in the water? Maybe one day, but not now. Things are going so well. No need to push too far or too fast.

When I catch up to her, she smiles, bends down and grabs two bottles of water from her backpack. She tosses one to me, then takes a sip from hers. Behind her, two surfers stroll down from the parking lot. She turns to watch them. While Riley enjoys surfing, it’s not totally my thing, but yoga is something we used to do together.

She turns back to me and asks, “Your mom still teaching?”

I swallow the water in my mouth and place the cap back on the bottle. “Not as much, but yes. She teaches in a small studio a couple of days a week.”

“That’s great. I always admired how fit and flexible she is.”

“Yoga’ll do that for you. And more,” I say. “You remember Stephens? I mean Jim. Taya’s husband.”

“From the barbeque? The first of you to go through the program?” She nods.

The barbeque had gone better than expected. None of my friends teased me too much about my participation in the program. Bear and Tony are a bit skeptical about me being assigned to Riley, but Jim thinks I should give it a shot and let the past be. Riley and I were still teenagers. It was her dad that really got between us. All that crap about how a kid from the trailer park would never be able to take care of his little princess. I hadn’t thought Riley would have ever believed that, but it’s hard to stand up to someone like her father. It’s hard not to want to be treated like a princess.

I shake my head from side to side, pinching the bridge of my nose. Hasn’t she already shown how much she’s changed just by moving away from her parents? By living in that dumpy little studio apartment rather than take their money?

When I refocus on her, she’s staring, waiting for me to continue. I scratch the back of my head and try to figure out how to explain what I want to say about Jim. “Yeah. Well, Jim had some injuries and if you haven’t picked up on it, he’s a very old school kinda guy. Had him try yoga. Actually, he gave it a shot right when he and Taya got together. Made a huge difference for him. Physically, mentally, emotionally. All of it. I connected him with Mom, and she told me he reaches out to her every now and then asking questions about different workouts to help with some residual issues.”

“Seriously?” Riley shakes her head, a big smile on her face. “Then why is he so grumpy? You’d think he might have found some inner peace.”

“Tough to say. He’s gone through a lot.”

A lot doesn’t scratch the surface and, in retrospect, my issues are nothing compared to what Stephens has experienced. Sometimes I feel like an ass for complaining. Really, my current issues with Mason are the only thing that compares in seriousness to his. Not to mention, he’s saved my ass more than once in a firefight.

Riley tosses her water bottle onto the towel and I follow suit. She places her hands above her head and stretches. The long apricot-colored T-shirt she wears barely comes up to her hips. It’s practically a dress. I hope it doesn’t get in her way. “Ready?”

“Yup. Warm up?”

She nods and walks a few feet away from the blanket and me so that we have space. We are parallel to one another, facing the water. Shoulder rolls are a great way to begin to loosen the body. I close my eyes and lift my shoulders toward my ears, then slowly pull my shoulder blades back and then down, taking in controlled breaths as I repeat the movement. In through the nose, out through the mouth, the briny sea air flooding my olfactory receptors.

We move on to neck stretches, continuing to focus on breathing. Standing with my legs hip-width apart, I inhale through my nose and then exhale out my mouth, slowly bending forward at the waist. My hands rest in the warm, white sand as I stretch out my lower back. This is one of the stretches I did multiple times a day when overseas, along with the standing side stretch.

Riley turns and faces me. “Which poses should we do?”

“What are you still able to do?”

“How about Downward Dog, Cobra, Warrior 1, and Navasana?”

I rub my hands together to brush the sand off of them. “Can you still do the King Pigeon?”

“Think so.”

---