Page 11

11

LAUREL

“Are you sure you want to do hot yoga?” Kendall asked warily from the back seat of the car as they parked. “Hot yoga doesn’t mean your buddy next to you is ‘hot’ – it’s the temperature, knucklehead… and you are not exactly the athletic type. If it was a spelling bee, maybe? But hot yoga – nuh-uh. I can’t see it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Laurel said nervously, glancing at Dustin only to see him smirk knowingly… and then he gave her that wink.

Curse the wink!

Wars were fought over that sexy, cutesy wink. Countries invaded and lost because of a spasm of the eye. In fact, if she was a betting girl, Laurel would have sworn that Paris gave Helen the accursed wink from across the palace courtyards of Troy… and Menelaus freakin’ knew it. That wink came with mindless destruction and the more she found out about hot yoga – she was pretty sure the destruction was her.

“You drank plenty of water this morning, right?”

“Sloshed all the way to the potty…”

“See Kendall – she’ll be fine,” Dustin smiled. “It’s just for forty-five minutes and then we’ll all meet up, grab dinner, and head home.”

“If I make you a coffee cup, will you use it?” Kendall asked openly.

“Proudly.”

“And if it looks like a commode?”

“Even better,” Dustin taunted approvingly making Kendall laugh in delight as they got out of the car. Laurel saw the exchange between the two of them and was glad they were getting closer, growing together as a family, but she hoped he understood what he just signed off on. He was getting a toilet-shaped clay coffee mug – courtesy of her sister.

Taking Kendall next door, Laurel quickly explained to the woman that they were going to be next door at the Yoga studio, and she immediately handed Laurel a rubber band.

“What’s that for?”

“Your hair.”

Kendall snickered – and took a seat. Laurel accepted the rubber band graciously and murmured her thanks before looking at her sister. “Do not leave here.”

“This is me – not leaving – unless I see an ambulance.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“If you feel sick – lie down.”

“You’re not helping.”

“Go enjoy your hot yoga with your hot husband – your hot – not my hot – I’m twelve, and he’s a dweeb with a big ol’ fat wallet,” Kendall said absently before stroking the ball of clay in front of her. “A dweeb who’s gonna be drinking from a clay potty in less than an hour.”

“It won’t be less than an hour.”

“You don’t know.”

“Actually I do.”

“Seriously?” Kendall said in disbelief. “You’re pulling my leg – aren’t you?”

Laurel rolled her eyes.

“See you soon.”

“Probably sooner,” Kendall chimed in before cackling happily. Laurel shook her head and left the studio, joining Dustin where he waited on the sidewalk after feeding the parking meter.

“Are you ready?”

“Maybe?”

“C’mon,” he chuckled, grasping her hand. “This is supposed to be really good to make you limber and help the joints. If it helps my hip loosen a bit more then I’m all for it.”

Nodding, she followed him up the stairway to the classroom above the pottery studio. As they walked in, there was a small fridge with bottled water for sale, a stack of towels available for everyone, a few yoga mats for sale, and other exercise outfits, shirts, and paraphernalia… including a few flower stickers promoting ‘Peace, Love, Yoga.’

Glancing at the other glass door warily, she saw it was a dim room with some sunlight streaming in the windows, and people were inside, chatting, taking their spots on the floor, and already starting to look… glossy.

“It’s hot in there, isn’t it?” Laurel asked another woman picking up a towel who looked at her in alarm. “Hot yoga is really hot – isn’t it?”

“It's 41 degrees.”

“Oh!” Laurel hesitated and then grinned. “Sweet! I’ve got this in the bag then…” and heard Dustin chuckle nearby as he picked up their towels and handed them to her.

“Turn around and give me the rubber band,” he ordered gently – and to her disbelief, he began braiding her hair. His fingers moved deftly, quickly tying the rubber band at the bottom before he kissed her shoulder. “It seems a shame to put it up, but I think you’ll need it.”

“I can handle temps in the forties.”

“Celsius.”

“Oh.”

“Let’s go,” he chuckled, and Laurel braced herself as a wall of dry heat slammed into her the moment he opened the glass door. She followed him to the back of the classroom and then hesitated as her glasses started to fog up – from her own body sweat.

She was already sweating.

Laying out her towel like Dustin, she took off her glasses and set them on the corner carefully. He gave her a curious glance before he sat down on the towel. She did the same and realized the floor was hot, too. Lovely , she thought silently, I’m going to char-broil my butt cheeks as I am turned into beef jerky.

“It takes a minute to get used to the heat, I hear,” Dustin said in a hushed voice. “My old physical therapist wanted me to try this back in Dallas, and I kept blowing her off, saying I was fine – but maybe there is something to this after all. It’s worth a shot.”

“Hey, if it helps things, then it’s worth trying… right?”

“Exactly,” he smirked and looked ahead. “I’ll just pretend I’m some fire-breathing dragon… or a lizard baking in the sun.”

And at the word ‘dragon,’ Laurel looked at him sharply.

“All right now everyone,” the instructor chose that moment to begin the class, and she could see the woman’s blurry form in the distance. “We’ve got some new faces, so welcome, and remember the rules… if you feel lightheaded, step outside quietly as to not disturb the other patrons.”

“Who are also sauteing in their sweat…” she whispered and heard Dustin’s choked snort. “Sorry.”

“Let’s begin with acclimating ourselves to the moment,” the instructor began. “Everyone, lie down in a prone position and feel the heat seeping into your body, into every pore, opening the ligaments that are eagerly waiting to get stretched.”

“I feel like Gumby… on a Texas sidewalk… in August.”

“Shhhh!” someone hissed nearby, and Laurel vowed not to say another word to this serious group of Yogas… eh, Yogis… um, Human Jerkys ?

“Feel the warmth… relax.”

And to her surprise, Laurel felt herself relaxing somewhat – until she heard Dustin whisper beside her.

“I think I have grill marks on my butt cheeks…”

She turned her head toward him; her eyes met his, and that smile was everything. Forget the heat, forget the discomfort of the room, right now her mind, heart, and soul were frozen in that unexpected moment of camaraderie between them.

“Hi,” he breathed and held out a hand to her across the space between their towels.

“Hi,” she replied tenderly, melting in more ways than just the temperature that was slowly cooking her. Her hand crept out to his as he touched her hand, watching her with those eyes that haunted her dreams and fantasies. “Maybe this isn’t so bad…”

“It’s tolerable now,” he volunteered, his smile widening as she chuckled.

“SHHHH!” the instructor said. “Be in the zone, people, and that means silence. Tais toi – and when you are ready, everyone move into a seated position with your legs in front of you, toes pointed to the sky. Feel the heat, feel the energy…”

“Feel the grill marks,” Dustin muttered in a hushed voice as he leaned forward to stretch, smiling at her. She did the same and followed his moves as the class went on.

They were strange poses, intricate poses, and she kept seeing him flinch occasionally, but after a while, he seemed to be slightly better. She had no idea her husband was so flexible, and when he was doing the pigeon pose and dragon stretch, he was almost flat against the floor, his hips and knees allowing the movement – whereas she was pretty sure her inner thighs were about to revolt.

If she got down onto the floor as far as he did, something would ‘give,’ and it wouldn’t be pretty. The ambulance Kendall had joked about would be required – and as it was, she was feeling light-headed… only to hear finally that the class was over.

“Oh, thank heavens…”

“Yeah, that’s pretty intense,” Dustin agreed. “It’s not a lot of strenuous movement, but I felt the workout, and my hip actually feels okay right now.”

“You’ve mentioned your hip a few times – are you okay?”

“I’m starting to feel the plays, the hits,” he explained carefully, looking at her. “I know it’s a rough game, and I’ve got the bruises to prove it. I stretch all the time to prevent injury – and I think that is the reason I’ve been able to continue playing for so long.”

“I knew it was rough but…” she began and met his eyes. “I’d really like to see a game.”

“That’s why I’m bringing the tickets for you both – and we get four of them each home game, so you or Kendall can bring a friend.”

“Will we be sitting with the other wives?”

“I can ask or arrange it.”

“I’d really like to get to know some of them better.”

“Do you want me to find out when the next…”

“Oh gosh,” Laurel interrupted bluntly. “Can we get out of here or talk tonight? I swear a bead of sweat just blinded my right eye, and I might yack on the floor.”

Dustin laughed easily, turning with her and guiding them out of the studio.

“I’m glad it wasn’t just me. I was feeling pretty awful, too,” he smiled and looked at her as they stepped out of the superheated room.

His smile faded, and his face grew pale – almost as quickly as the wave of nausea hit her seconds following the change in temperature.

“Oh gosh…”

“Not good,” she choked, looking for a trash can or anything to vomit in.

“Breathe,” the instructor said quickly, handing them one trash can to share and smiling knowingly. “Breathe through the changes and feel yourselves regulate. The first visit is always the worst, and you learn it’s okay to slow down.”

“I’m feeling better,” he nodded hoarsely, hugging the can between the two of them as he looked at Laurel.

“Me too.”

“Now, since you two weren’t paying attention in class and making eyes at each other,” the instructor chastised gently, smiling at them. “It’s normal to feel a little nauseous, a little sore, or to feel your joints stiffen up some. The heat allows you to stretch beyond what your body normally allows. Take some ibuprofen, drink plenty of water, and we’ll see you next week.”

Dustin looked at her – waiting.

“We’ll be back next week,” Laurel said softly to the unspoken question from him. “I liked the class.”

“Great,” the instructor smiled. “Now, I’ll take my trash can back from you both – and you can go home and make eyes at each other alone.”

Laurel’s muscles ached in the best way, loose and relaxed, but none of it compared to the warmth that spread through her chest when Dustin caught her eye. They shared a lingering look, something shy and unspoken passing between them before their fingers brushed and linked together naturally.

The connection sent a spark up her spine, not from the remnants of the workout, but from the way he looked at her—like she was something worth admiring. It was ridiculous. She knew she had to look an absolute mess. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her tank top clung damply to her skin, and she could feel the telltale ring of sweat darkening the front of her shirt. She had never felt less attractive in her life, and yet, in Dustin’s gaze, she felt radiant. Desired.

By the time they picked up Kendall a few minutes later, Laurel had almost convinced herself that she didn’t look as bad as she felt. That illusion shattered the moment Kendall took one look at them and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my gosh!” Kendall shrieked between fits of giggles. “Are you guys okay? Because you look like you just survived a flood – if that flood was boiling hot lava.”

Laurel groaned, pressing her fingers against her temple. “I know. I know. I smell like a gym sock, don’t I?”

“Worse,” Kendall declared. “Like two wet dogs who wrestled in a sauna and lost.”

Dustin only laughed, completely unbothered, while Laurel shot him an incredulous look. Of course, he could look good drenched in sweat. His shirt clung to his chest in a way that made her want to trace every inch of him, and the damp sheen along his jawline made his already chiseled features even more defined. It wasn’t fair.

Their less-than-appealing state made dining in somewhere an absolute no-go, so they settled for drive-thru instead, which suited Laurel just fine. It meant they had privacy. No watchful eyes, no curious glances—just them.

When they finally made it back to the building, food in hand, Kendall wrinkled her nose dramatically, taking an exaggerated step away from them. “Y’all really reek. Like, this is offensive to my sinuses. Can we take separate elevators for my lungs’ sake?”

Dustin smirked, his gaze flicking to Laurel before he answered easily, “Go ahead first. We’ll take the next one.”

Laurel barely heard the words. She was too lost in the way he was looking at her. Heat curled in her stomach, completely separate from the aftermath of yoga, and a flush crawled up her neck.

“Go straight to the condo,” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.

Kendall groaned loudly. “Y’all are pathetic. Seriously pathetic.” Then, as if that weren’t enough, she huffed dramatically. “And I cannot believe my toilet mug won’t be ready for two days.”

“Darn,” Dustin replied absently.

But Kendall was already stepping into the elevator, swiping the takeout from Dustin’s hands with a knowing smirk. She wiggled her fingers in a lazy wave as the doors slid shut, leaving them alone in the dim hallway.

The silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken. Laurel inhaled, immediately regretting it when she caught the scent of her own sweat. She cringed. “I think she’s right—I do smell.” Self-conscious, she ran a hand through her tangled, damp hair. “My hair is a mess and?—”

“I don’t care,” Dustin murmured, cutting her off.Then, before she could process it, he pulled her into his arms, his grip firm and unyielding, and kissed her.

It wasn’t careful or hesitant. It was consuming. Deep. A slow-burning fire that spread through her limbs, making her forget everything—her sweat, her exhaustion, the entire world outside of him. His lips moved against hers with purpose, stealing the rest of the air from her lungs.

By the time they broke apart, she was breathless, her fingers curled against his chest.

Maybe Kendall was right.

They really were pathetic.

And she didn’t care one bit.