Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1)

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Breathless (Yoga in the City Book 1) Page 10

by Leigh LaValle


  “Fate.”

  “He’s so sexy!”

  “Wow. Lucky Hannah.”

  The girls talked over each other in their excitement.

  “I don’t want to go to his office,” I said loud enough to be heard. “I’ll do something else.”

  “Why not?”

  Because all I wanted was to see him.

  Because I felt like something important was missing from the room when he wasn’t in it.

  Because we were on a precipice of some kind, and I was afraid.

  But I didn’t say any of this.

  “Well, I can go if Hannah really doesn’t want to.” Jennifer narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ll overwhelm him with graphs and statistics.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to hide. “I can do it.”

  “You sure?”

  No. “Yeah. It’s no big deal.”

  The girls studied me. I smiled, reaching for a lightness I didn’t feel.

  “We also need to keep moving forward on Yoga Week.” Jennifer plowed on. “I’m beginning to see flyers all over town.”

  “The construction has to be done by then, or we’re screwed.”

  “It’s still eleven weeks away.”

  “Hannah, when you talk to Jake, can you mention this? That it needs to be done in eleven weeks?”

  “Sure. I’ll tell him he can’t work certain hours of the day, but he must finish the job he said would take four months in eleven weeks. No problem. He’ll love that.”

  “Just flash him some boob.”

  I couldn’t tell if Jennifer was joking or not. She sounded serious.

  “Do any of you have business-y clothes?” I asked. “I want to look professional when I go to his office.”

  Conversation moved to pencil skirts and how high heels one can get away with and soon the corporate culture in general and the glass ceiling for women, and I was just waiting for Jake to show up for the morning. Luckily, we got so involved in all this, we didn’t talk about our Yoga Week workshops. I still didn’t have any idea what my workshop would be. Every time I thought about it my mind drew a blank, and that wasn’t like me. If I was anything it was a fighter. Put a challenge before me, and I could overcome it. I lost my mom and became a sole planet in the universe, circling the distant sun, at age twenty. I learned how to be alone in the world. Not just be alone, but thrive. I put myself through community college and yoga teacher training. I made money, hell, I saved money, as a yoga teacher. I’d even made a few small but lucrative investments in the stock market. I could fix pretty much anything you put before me: cars, plumbing, iPhones. I’d even fixed our oven once. But Yoga Week? I was lost. And that was not okay.

  Looked like I had to add Yoga Week to my kryptonite list. Charming, sexy men and Yoga Week.

  Just great.

  An hour later, when his crew was present but he wasn’t there, I pulled out Jake’s business card and called him.

  “Jake Marshall.”

  “Hi, Jake, it’s Hannah, from Bloom Yoga.”

  “Hi, Hannah from Bloom Yoga.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I would like to meet with you to discuss some possible solutions to our conflicting professional needs.” That sounded good, didn’t it? I couldn’t really tell. My palms were sweating, and blood was rushing in my ears. Twenty-four hours ago, he’d been kissing me senseless. “I would like to schedule a time to come by your office.”

  “You called at a good moment. I’m in the office all day. I should be free around…two o’clock. Want to come over then?”

  “Works for me.”

  “Twenty-five thirty-five Oak Street. Second floor.”

  “I’ll see you at two,” I said.

  “Looking forward to it.”

  He was? Warmth flushed through me. “Yup. I’ll be there at two,” I repeated.

  “All right,” he drawled.

  “Okay, bye.” I rushed to hang up the phone, my cheeks burning. I needed to get my act together before I faced him that afternoon. I needed charts, time tables, printed arguments, things I could latch on to so I didn’t babble away in a sea of desire.

  At one thirty, I drove to Jake’s office. It was located in a fancy building with valet parking and a fountain out front. I was totally out of my element. I took the stairs rather than the elevator and opened the glass doors to his reception area. A receptionist told me to wait, even though I was right on time for my scheduled appointment. I tried not to be annoyed, like his time was so much more important than mine.

  I dressed as professionally as I could for this meeting, but even borrowing from the other yoga girls, I didn’t have many options.

  I was using a laptop bag as a briefcase, in which I had three printed copies of what we were asking for. Jennifer lent me a pencil skirt, and I wore my own white blouse. Crystal provided the heels—a deep purple color. But still, I didn’t seem to cut it in this world of glass and steel.

  You can do this, Hannah.

  You are professional and capable and strong.

  Just keep your cool. And for God’s sake, do not babble.

  Finally, Jake appeared. He was wearing a dark suit and a white dress shirt opened at the collar. He looked professional and serious and delicious. I mean de-lish-ous. All those buzzy attraction hormones flung themselves around inside me in a hallelujah dance. I ran my eyes over him, I couldn’t help it. He was power and strength all buttoned up in a sexy suit.

  He cleared his throat, and my gaze flew to his face. He looked down at me, his brows quirked.

  “Just trying to figure out where you keep your tools in that suit.” It was a lame joke, but he grinned at me anyway. White teeth flashed against his tanned skin.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve got all the tools I need,” he murmured. His voice was low so only I could hear, and there was no mistaking the sexual innuendo. My face flamed.

  He put his hand on my lower back and steered me around a corner and down another hallway.

  “I set myself up for that one.” His hand sent little sparks of awareness racing through me. Even the ends of my hair crackled.

  He smelled great. Fancy and clean with a hint of that spice.

  No kissing, I told myself. Hands off.

  He guided me into a corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows and closed the door behind him. His office was clean and almost bare. The only thing breaking the modern space was a collection of picture frames on one wall. Some frames held certificates and awards. Others boasted photographs of buildings and blueprints. But most were photos of the outdoors. Sunsets. Snow-covered mountains. Rock faces. I peered closer and found Jake in many of them. More often than not, he was wearing a helmet and appeared to be doing something dangerous.

  “Ice climbing?” I asked.

  “Ski mountaineering, mostly. Some climbing trips. He pointed to a photo where he was a tiny dot on a huge, red cliff. “That one was taken in Utah.”

  “Beautiful.” I didn’t know what else to say. These were not your usual camping trips. He was clearly an elite athlete. “Must feel weird to be stuck in an office.”

  “Office worker is one of my many disguises.” The right side of his mouth quirked back.

  I loved that smile.

  “Are any of these taken in Alaska? That’s where you’re going on your next trip, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve never been to Alaska. And technically, it’s more of an expedition than a trip. I’ll be gone five months.”

  Somehow, I didn’t think he would be sightseeing. “How far off the grid are you going?”

  “Completely. I’ll be deep in the mountains most of the time. The trek we have planned is long and technically difficult.”

  “Not your typical Alaska vacation.”

  “No.” He glanced down my body, then met my eyes. “I suppose not.”

  I plopped down in a chair, slightly overwhelmed. “Fancy place you’ve got here, Jake.”

  “Why, thank you, Hannah.” He sat in the chair behind his desk and reg
arded me with a steady gaze. I felt like a schoolgirl.

  Jake.

  Jake.

  Jake.

  I wanted to climb over that desk and sit on his lap. Any other rational thoughts had flown out the window.

  Breathe, Hannah.

  This meeting was too important to mess up.

  I inhaled deeply, drawing on everything I knew about keeping my act together. I really didn’t know much about meditation, despite all the classes I’d taken over the years. But I knew that I was supposed to just sit with whatever I was feeling and let it be. That fighting it only gave it more power. So, I just sat. I let myself be a cauldron of desire. I let my want churn and push at me from the inside.

  Feeling turned on wasn’t the worst thing to feel. I could handle it.

  Maybe.

  I let him stare at me. Waited for him to talk.

  He cleared his throat. “What can I do for you, Hannah? I’m all yours.” His voice was husky.

  “The construction.”

  He sat back, his eyes on me. “Did you know we’re moving our offices to the new building? I’ll be working right upstairs from you.”

  Perfect. I was going to see his distracting self every day. “That’s what I’m here to discuss.”

  “My being on top of you?”

  I rolled my eyes, pretending a coolness I didn’t feel.

  “You blush so easily.”

  I pulled out my prepared papers like a shield.

  Graphs.

  Statistics.

  Lost revenue.

  He tapped his fingers on his desk. “Before I forget, we’ll be installing the new window Monday. Probably in the afternoon.”

  “Great. But, we still have a problem. The noise has started to affect our bottom line. No one wants to do yoga in a construction zone, and class sizes are down.”

  He tilted his head. “What do you need?”

  “To begin, we request a break in our rent during the construction phase to offset loss of revenue.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Also, we would like to establish ‘noise free’ times each day.”

  He raised a brow. I rushed on before he could say no. “We’re willing to work with you. We’re just asking for a few breaks a day, when our classes are busiest, where we can enjoy quiet. I’ve a proposed schedule here. Mostly it is during our early morning classes and our after-work classes. We’ve agreed to close the studio on Tuesdays and allow you to make all the noise you want.”

  His beautiful lips dipped down. “How generous.” He was all irony. Obviously, he could make whatever noise he wanted anyway. And there was no need for him to agree to my plan at all. But he surprised me by asking, “Can I see your weekly revenue? How much are you down?”

  “I have a graph here, broken down by profit margin. You can see, overall, it was roughly twenty-two percent last week. It has been steadily declining at a rate of five percent a week. And this doesn’t include us paying ourselves.”

  “Hmm.” He scanned the papers Jennifer had given me an hour ago. They smelled like incense.

  His head bent over, I studied him. He seemed at home here. As comfortable as he was out on the work site. Out on the trail. Fancy pencils and graph paper sat on a drafting table to my right. I could picture him working there, his hands sketching and measuring and creating something beautiful.

  He looked up. “I’m willing to consider your schedule. I have to talk with my subcontractors first, see what this means for our timeline.” And his bottom line.

  “Great.” I couldn’t believe this meeting had gone so well. I smiled at him, and he smiled back. I decided to throw out the curve ball. “And it all has to be done for Yoga Week.”

  “Which is?”

  “June thirteenth to the twentieth.”

  He drummed his fingers on his chair. “You realize this is going to be a big inconvenience for me.”

  I didn’t say anything, just waited to see where he was going with this.

  “I’m under a tight deadline to get this job done. And if I have to delay in order to meet your quiet schedule, it’ll cost me in other areas of my life.”

  I raised my brows. “Such as?”

  “Such as getting ready for Alaska. And healing my knee. I want private yoga lessons.” He stared. “With you. Twice a week.”

  “Why me?” I didn’t like the slight panic in my voice. I was a confused tangle of emotions. Flattered. Annoyed. Cornered. Turned on.

  “Because I trust you.”

  I knew as soon as he said it that it was true.

  “Because I went to your class and my knee felt better than it had all month,” he continued.

  “But any teacher can help you with that.”

  “Do you know about knees?” he asked.

  “What do you mean, do I know about knees? Of course I do.”

  “I mean, do you know how to help someone with a bad knee?”

  “Sure. I took some physical therapy courses in Community College on top of my yoga training. I’ve worked with several people suffering from injuries, arthritis, that kind of stuff. Yoga is amazing for chronic pain.”

  “Good. Then you’ll help me fix my knee. In exchange, I’ll try to honor your quiet times.”

  “I don’t know if I can fix your knee, but I can do my best.”

  “So, is it a deal?” he asked. “I’ll try to be quiet during your times listed here, and you’ll give me two yoga private lessons a week. Which I’ll pay for, by the way. I’m not expecting them to be free.”

  He stood up, walked around his desk, and held out his hand.

  I dragged my gaze down the gorgeous length of him.

  This man was dangerous.

  And I was like a moth to a flame.

  I stood up and shook his hand. “Okay. We have a deal.”

  “It’ll take me a few days to get everything worked out with my crew and the contractors. We can wait to schedule a private lesson until then, or we can put it on the books now.”

  “Let’s do it now.” Before I come to my senses. “What were you thinking?”

  “Well, I know you’re a morning person.” He winked at me. “How about two mornings a week from six to seven a.m., unless that’s too early.”

  “No, I can do that. I’ll check the studio schedule and let you know a good time.”

  He leaned back against his desk, crossed his arms, and smiled that sexy half smile. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  I left his office, nervous and confident at the same time.

  I could do this. I could make this arrangement work. I could step up and be professional and make Bloom Yoga profitable again.

  I just needed to keep from falling for Jake.

  Chapter 10

  Jake

  The replacement window for Bloom Yoga finally arrived Monday. While my guys were prepping the glass, I took down the board Hannah had painted and brought it into the studio.

  She was there. I’d noticed her car earlier. And I wanted to see her.

  I didn’t know what it was about the girl, but I really liked her. She was quirky and cute and driving me crazy. When I was around her, I felt different. Lighter. Brighter. Like I could breathe again.

  I’d thought about her all weekend when I was supposed to be focused on training. Thought about how soft her skin was. How I would lay her down and run my hands up her legs and over her ass. How I’d roll her over and taste her. And make her arch and writhe and come. Then, when she was ready, I’d sink into her.

  It wasn’t just a fantasy. I was going to make it happen.

  The private class idea came to me in a stroke of genius. I hoped she had to bend over a lot in those hot pants of hers. I was going to take advantage of all that time we had together.

  Hannah looked up from her paperwork when I opened the door to the studio.

  “I thought you might want to keep this,” I said, holding up the sign.

  She stood up and came toward me. “Thanks. I was going to hang it in t
he back hallway.”

  She was wearing a white top that fell off her shoulder. Sexy little pink straps showed through. Her hair was down, held back in a band, and her soft red mouth was shining like she’d put on gloss.

  My pulse gave a little kick.

  I wanted to eat her up.

  “You look different,” I said, studying her. I tried to figure out what it was. “Did you get your hair cut?”

  “No.” She smiled. I loved that smile, so open and free. I was glad to see her relaxing around me a little.

  “Makeup?”

  She huffed a laugh. “Not really.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’re wearing jeans.”

  She pointed at me. “Bingo.”

  I dropped my gaze to her jeans. God, her legs were hot. Her ass was even hotter.

  I started to sweat.

  “Usually it’s all yoga pants, all the time.” She shrugged.

  I leaned back against the door and crossed my arms. “I like you in jeans.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  She blushed. “Thanks.”

  “I’d like you even better out of them.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  I chuckled under my breath, grabbed the picture, and walked toward the back hall.

  “Your shoes,” she cried.

  Sure enough, I’d forgotten to take off my dirty, dusty work boots as I crossed her pristine wood floor. I backed up and kicked off my boots at the entrance.

  “I could hang your painting up now, if you know where it’s going to go. I have all the tools.”

  “I can do it.”

  “I’m sure you can. But, as the window was my fault, I’d like to help.” Really, I just wanted to be around her, but some part of me could be nice too.

  “Okay, fine. I’ll show you where.”

  I followed her to the back hallway. She motioned toward the empty wall. “We were going to center it here. Nothing fancy.”

  “Hold it up, and I’ll mark it out.”

  The wood was heavy, but she easily lifted it to the wall.

  “Bring up the left corner a touch.” I reached my arms around her to nudge the left corner up even more. “Here.”

  I kept her circled in my arms and checked our work with the level. I craved that zing, that aliveness she awakened in me. I craved it like I craved the mountains and danger and ragged breath.

 

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