Page 67 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“A yoga class?”

“Not any yoga class,” he states. “What item on your bucket list is yoga-related?”

I ponder for a moment until it dawns on me. “We’re doing goat yoga?!” I ask excitedly. Whipping my head around, I search for the animals as Brady chuckles beside me.

“We’re doing goat yoga,” he confirms.

“How did you find out about this?”

“Somehow, through my groomsmen duties, I subscribed to their newsletter. I received an email last week that talked about goat yoga and I remembered it being on your list. Ten minutes and $38 later, we were all signed up.

“Now that they have a few months' experience under their belts, the owners are introducing new activities and offerings to make this a destination for more than wine tasting. Although, we do get a free glass after class.”

“That is such a cool business idea! What other things are they doing?”

“One of those drink and painting classes and a charcuterie board tutorial were the other ones I saw in an email,” he answers.

“Those both sound amazing,” I say dreamily.

“Then we’ll have to sign up for them another time. Today though, we’re finding our zen with some goats.”

As he finishes his statement, a woman with more fineness than I will ever possess walks through the gate at the front of the pavilion. “Good morning, all,” she greets. “I’m Kristie. I will be your instructor this morning. Thank you for signing up for our beginner goat yoga experience.”

Kristie goes on to explain the rules for interacting with the animals and does her best to prepare us for what we can expect out of them. When she is done with her spiel, she has us sit in lotus position – better known as criss cross applesauce to non-yogis – and brings in the goats.

Clearly not their first rodeo, they wander around the makeshift pen, going up to people to request pets. As we move through the yoga flow, they get more comfortable getting in our way. I almost fall over from laughing while in half-moon pose as one particularly mischievous goat headbutts Brady’s leg. Thanks to his thick thighs, he is able to absorb the blow, but the surprised look on his face was priceless.

I’m smiling from ear to ear as we pack up to leave. Glancing down at me, Brady has a similar expression. “Everything you thought it would be, sweet girl?” he asks me with a kiss on the head.

“Yes,” I beam. “Much more, in fact! Probably not the best workout of all time, but I am relaxed and centered. Plus, it was freaking cute.”

“Good. Mission accomplished then.”

As we’re turning to leave, a young woman around twenty comes running up to us. “Mr. Miller!” she yells. When she reaches us, she takes a deep breath. “You would think trekking across campus all day would have me in better shape. Hi, I’m Emerly Lavigne. My family and I own the vineyard.”

“Hi, Emerly, nice to meet you,” Brady says, shaking her hand. “You can call me Miller. This is my girlfriend, Lola.”

“Nice to meet you both,” she responds. “I wanted to catch you before you left to see if we could get a picture of you with one of the goats? This is a new offering for us and being able to show someone as high profile as you taking part would really help get the word out. Plus, a lot of men think it’s too girly, but there is nothing girly about you. You’re so tall and all those muscles are—”

Brady stops her before she can ramble any further. “I’d love to. If you send the photo to me, I can share it on my channels, too. Do you mind getting us both in it?”

“Absolutely!” she beams. Emerly snaps a few pictures and I am ecstatic to be able to cuddle the goats more. Once she is done, we enjoy our free glass of wine and I change for the next location on Brady’s mystery day.

“Do I get to know where we’re going next, or is that still a secret?” I question.

“Not a secret,” he corrects, “a surprise.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take me away then, Mr. Chauffeur.”

“Gladly, sweet girl.”

ChapterThirty-Three

• LOLA •

We park in front of a small, craftsman-style home located in Music Row. When I turn to ask where we are, I notice nerves haunting his features. Crap. If he’s nervous, I’m nervous. Brady is the flight attendant of this little adventure. On a flight, you don’t panic unless you notice them panicking. Same deal here.

Clearing his throat, he gazes over at me. “This stop doesn’t technically fulfill an item on your list, but it will help you get closer to achieving your goals by making moves in the right direction.”

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