Phillip tossed his bag at the base of the steps and kicked off his shoes.
“Might as well lose the socks too,” Birdie suggested.
“All right, then,” Ozzie said. “First things first, we need to warm up and stretch. No point in tearing muscles this early in the game.” He touched a few buttons on the music player, and Ozzy Osborne’s “Crazy Train” screamed out of the speakers.
Birdie laughed at the sly look he shot her over his shoulder. “You brat,” she accused him.
“Never said I didn’t like the song,” he answered mildly, then indicated he wanted them positioned in front of the mirror. “If you have a warm up routine, fine, but you can watch me and follow along.”
Oh Birdie watched, all right. He wore clothes similar to Phillip’s. The sweats might have passed for man-tights had they been a hair snugger. His pants were black, his tank top white. His bare white feet were long and, she couldn’t believe it, actually looked sexy. After a day in leather shoes they probably stunk, she told herself. But after a shower they wouldn’t.
Groaning under the cover of the music, Birdie watched Ozzie in the mirror and followed his stretching routine. More than once her gaze was snared by his in the mirror. Usually when she was bent forward and both men had a pretty good chance to look down her bra. She especially liked the way Ozzie’s eyes heated up. If Phillip was looking, she pretended not to notice.
After fifteen minutes, Oz stood up and looked at his two students. “Ready? We’ll start with the basic moves tonight. Those will tire you out.”
Birdie merely gazed at him. Bring it, she thought.
“Ready to go,” Phillip said.
“First is the bus stop stance.” Ozzie demonstrated. Feet shoulder width apart. Shoulders relaxed. “You’re both right handed?”
Birdie and Phillip nodded.
“Then put your right foot back and turn forty-five degrees. Rear heel up.” Each step they took, he explained why it was important. “Heel up for faster movement. Taking time to lift the heel is time lost.” Each movement was like a part in a ballet as Ozzie moved. Natural and part of the routine. He made it look as easy as breathing.
Next came how to make a fist and how to hold them up in front of the cheekbones. “Keep your shoulders relaxed or you’ll be too sore to move tomorrow.” Ozzie’s gaze moved over her body in the mirror, then moved down to take in Phillip’s stance. “Good. Easy enough, hey?”
Birdie soaked it all in. Ozzie had them practice getting into position a couple times before going on to the next step.
“If you want to move back, lead with your rear foot.” He danced backward, looking as springy as Tigger. “Remember to keep that heel up. Lead with the left foot to move forward. Right foot to move right, left to move left.” He demonstrated the small steps, slowly at first, then with a show of speed. It looked like he was dancing as he demonstrated how quickly he could turn and move. “Little crab-like steps. Keep them loose.” Birdie made a bet with herself that Ozzie could probably dance a Lindy with style.
Okay, the heel up made sense to Birdie. Even Phillip nodded. It took only a few minutes to gain Ozzie’s nod of approval. That small acknowledgment was like the highest praise to Birdie. Or maybe her blood was warming from the exercise. She didn’t have time to stop and contemplate it now. Watching herself in the mirror, she put on her mean face and concentrated on the small crab-like movements until Phillip started laughing.
“Now that’s a scary look, Bird. Just like that, you’ll scare off any potential mugger,” he said.
“She’s smart enough to not be out on the streets after dark by herself,” Ozzie barked.
“Of course she is,” Phillip agreed. “But just in case, that’s a good move to start with.”
Ozzie grunted. “Next is the jab. With that and a cross punch, it will make your stance more believable. This is your range finder, or in other words, it’s how you gauge how close your opponent really is. Using your left arm…”
The next sequence took a little longer to perfect for her. Obviously no one had ever taught her how to throw a punch. Aim with the first two knuckles because they’re the strongest, Ozzie demanded. After a few punches she understood the mechanics and the importance of a straight arm and wrist. Stomp with the left foot, strike out with the left arm.
“This is where it helps to build up the muscles in your legs,” he said. “The power comes first from your legs, then your core”—he slapped his abs—“shoulders next, and then your arm.”
Every body part he touched, she wanted to touch too. Seeing this authoritative, teaching side of him was also a turn on. She couldn’t ever remember him stringing so many words together at once. Then there was how he moved. Poetry with power in motion. Of course she’d seen hints of his coordination in how he walked and danced. However, now, stripped down to workout clothes, for the first time she could fully enjoy seeing all those sculpted muscles in movement.
As a teacher, Ozzie wasn’t one to let her daydream. So she followed his instructions. Stomp, jab, exhale on the jab, then pull the arm back into position, all while keeping the right fist up by her cheek. The movements were not intuitive for her, but she thought she did okay when Ozzie told them to take a short break and shake out their arms and legs. Then there was the gleam of approval in his eyes, although he kept his facial expression neutral. For Phillip’s benefit? Trying to deny whatever attraction he felt for her? Is that why Phillip was there? As a chaperone?
“Before you actually start punching things, we’ll make sure you have good wraps,” he told her. Even that tiny consideration sent a thrill down her spine.
Satisfied with her progress—Phillip got there first—Ozzie demonstrated the cross-punch with the right arm.
Birdie’s thighs were starting to burn, as were the muscles in her left arm, as she resumed her stance, but she was damned if she’d complain. Phillip wasn’t whining. No way would she be the wussy girly girl now.
“This is your power punch,” he told them as they made their first stabs. “Although you can knock out an opponent with a perfectly placed jab, the cross is more likely to be the one to do it.”
Birdie watched as Ozzie twisted his rear foot, the one with the heel up, the resulting twist of his shoulders adding power to the punch. After a few throws he nodded in satisfaction, and Birdie was ready to sit down and rest.
Ozzie had other ideas. “Now we’re going to put it all together in a sequence.”
“Can I get a sip of water first?” she asked.
Ozzie glanced at Phillip first, then her. “Good idea.”
He also turned on a fan, and Birdie wanted to sigh in relief. The small hand towel in her bag was also a joy to find as she wiped sweat from her face and neck. She sensed a prickling at the back of her neck and turned to see Ozzie motionless, his eyes on her toweling the sweat from her upper chest.
“Hey,” Phillip said, interrupting her moment with Ozzie. “You’re doing great. Have you had any martial arts training before?”
Birdie snorted and swiped the towel across the back of her neck. “Some ballet and gymnastics, but martial arts? No.”
“Can’t tell.” He gave her a big grin. “Must be the ballet and gymnastics, muscle memory and all that. You move well.”
“Thanks.”
“All right,” Ozzie said. “Not much left to do, but we’re going to go through all the steps at once. Once you have the moves smoothed out, we’ll do a five minute session with you throwing a jab every ten seconds.”
“Only five minutes?” Phillip dropped his half full water bottle on his gym bag.
Birdie reluctantly did the same. If she downed the entire bottle, she’d probably spit it back up in five minutes.
“Five minutes will be enough for tonight,” Ozzie said with a crooked smile. “You can practice that each day until we get together again.”
Phillip nodded. “I can’t make it this weekend. We’re doing the races. King George Day at
Ascot and all.”
Birdie glanced at Ozzie who was nodding. “We’re going as well. With Courtney’s grandmother.”
“Old Mrs. Robinson?” Phillip looked suitably shocked. “You’re brave, mate.”
Ozzie shrugged. “When you’re offered a ride and box seats, it’s best not to disappoint the lady who offers.”
Birdie snorted. Offered. Right. More like Gran had demanded, but whatever. Birdie was actually a little excited. Okay, a whole lot excited.
“We’ll get you introduced around this weekend, Bird,” Phillip said. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
Ozzie nodded and herded Birdie back to her spot in the middle of the mat. One man on each side. Not a bad place to be, once she thought about it. Both men were fit, ripped, and handsome. Ozzie with his dark blond hair, Phillip with his darker brown, a girl would be crazy to not have fun standing between them. Still, it would have been more fun with only Ozzie there. She’d had fantasies of his getting closer, wrapping his arms around of her as she followed his instructions.
Ozzie’s sharp instruction to pay attention cut off that thought.
Lined up in front of the mirror, Ozzie led them through the sequence. Set the stance, fists in the guard position, then stomp, jab, exhale on the throw, pull the fist back into position, throw the cross, exhale, dance around and set the next jab and cross combo. He made them do each step perfectly, complete with exhale, heel twist, and movement.
“Slowly now, increase the pace…”
Working to the music, they flowed from punch to punch.
Birdie glanced at the clock and Ozzie caught her. “I’ll tell you when time’s up.”
Rolling her eyes, she focused on the mirror, making sure she moved correctly.
It was the longest five minutes of her life. And considering the three wedding ceremonies she’d stood through in the last eighteen months, that was saying something.
“Three more sequences,” Ozzie called out from behind her. “Keep those fists in place when you’re not punching.”
Beside her Phillip bounced around, dancing left, right, front and back, spinning every now and again, his form perfect.
“Two more,” Ozzie said. “Hands up! One more!”
Birdie put on a burst of energy for the last sequence, then stopped moving the second she finished. Her arms dropped as if she held ten pound weights in each one.
“Walk and shake it out,” Ozzie said. “You did well.” He patted her on the shoulder before moving over to the music player.
“High five!” Phillip came toward her with his palm in the air. “You looked great!”
“Thanks.” She couldn’t help the grin as a small surge of adrenalin kicked in. “You did pretty well yourself.” Palm connecting with palm sent a small sting through her hand and down her raised arm. The slap sounded loud in the suddenly quiet room.
Birdie glanced at the big clock on the wall. “Wow, we’ve been going over an hour?”
“Yep.” The short affirmative was almost ridiculous in Ozzie’s high brow accent. “So, five minute routine each day until we meet again. Take it slow the first few times to make sure you’re practicing perfect form. If you’re not going to do it right, it’s better to not do it all.”
Birdie nodded. “Perfect practice prevents piss-poor performance.”
Phillip laughed. “Such language from a lady.”
She smirked back at him. “Don’t make me demonstrate my full range of sailor curses. I learned from the best.”
Ozzie merely lifted an aristocratic brow.
“My grandfather can turn the air icy blue given the right circumstances. Especially if he thinks I’m not around.”
“Birdie, you need a lift home?” Phillip looked so hopeful she didn’t quite know how to answer. Ozzie hadn’t said a thing about after working out since the other night. Did he remember his promise?
“I’ll take her,” Ozzie said. “I promised to feed her.”
Phillip smiled, but it was somewhat dimmer than his usual. “All right then. When do we do this again?”
“I can set aside Thursday evenings,” Ozzie said. “That way it doesn’t get in the way of your usual Friday night plans. It’s also usually my most free evening.”
“Thursdays are good for me.” Phillip stooped to pick up his bag. “I’ll show myself out, and will look for you this weekend. My sister wants to meet Birdie.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she replied.
Phillip rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a tiny squeeze. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t associate with Deirdre unless she has no choice.”
Birdie laughed. “I like her already. Thanks, Phillip.”
He nodded at Ozzie. “I’m off. Have a great rest of the evening.”
Chapter 18
Listening to Hammond bound up the steps and out the door, Oswald stood and stared at Courtney. The look they shared was deeply intimate and if her stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to grumble, he might very well have gone with his fantasy of taking her down to the mats and making love to her.
It had been hard to keep an eye on Hammond in the name of teaching because watching Courtney had been like watching a ballerina. The woman moved with such grace and ease, surely it would translate to extraordinary sex.
“Oops!” Courtney clapped one hand over her stomach. “Guess it heard you mention feeding time.”
“What would you say to the best fish and chips in town?”
Courtney had bent over to retrieve her bags and the half full bottle of water. She looked up at him as she straightened. “You can make fish and chips?”
This time he laughed. “I could, but I’d rather take you to the pub down the street. Have a shirt to throw over that gear?” Not that he wanted her to cover up, but neither did he want anyone else to see her looking deliciously pink and glowing from the workout.
“Shower first?” She sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “I’m a little stanky.”
“You don’t stink, but if it would make you more comfortable…” And he couldn’t quite stop the vision of Courtney in his shower from forming. Since he’d already seen her naked—twice—it wasn’t hard to imagine at all. “Come on, I’ll get you some fresh towels. Unless you brought your own potions, you may come out smelling a little manly, but it won’t bother me.”
“It won’t be the first time. I’ve accidently used Drew’s shower gel a time or two.”
A sweep of relief went through him like a breeze. Of course, they’d shared a bathroom when sharing an apartment at Stanford.
Oswald swept out a hand, encouraging her to go up the stairs first. She only hesitated a beat, then took the steps two at a time. Except for passing too quickly, he had a fine view of her backside. She waited for him in the kitchen.
“We have to go up one more floor for the guest bath.”
“Okay.”
It only took half an hour for them both to shower and dress in clean clothes. He was somewhat surprised she had a complete outfit of jeans, T-shirt, and trainers in her oversized red leather tote bag. He hadn’t expected her to plan so far in advance. Not that he’d ever had a woman over to workout in his home gym before.
Most of the women who stopped by whatever gym he’d been at for evening workouts had showed up in work clothing, then went straight home still in their workout togs. More comfortable to shower at home whenever possible, one had said to him once. He got that.
Still, Courtney hadn’t known they’d be going out for dinner. Then again, Americans seemed to be a little more fastidious when it came to bathing.
Settled in a booth, ale in front of them and order placed, Oswald took a long look at her. “So, what do you really think?”
“About the workout?”
He nodded.
“Feels like a good start to me. I know we’ve barely begun, but I like the way you explained each step as we went along. I like knowing why a certain position works best. What do you t
hink? Did I do well?” She threw the question back at him.
“You did great. Better than many beginners I’ve worked with.” And that was the honest truth. “Of course these next few weeks will take some tweaking of your form. Until you build some muscle memory, you’re going to have to constantly check it.” Or rather he would check her form. “If it would make you feel better, we can get in some extra workouts before Thursday.”
Ah. That earned him a raised brow. So much like the rest of her family, she had the aristocratic demeanor no one in his family could seem to grasp.
The delivery of their meals interrupted the conversation. Just as well. He offered her the vinegar, and she took it without batting an eye. So she’d had true fish and chips before. Then again, after half a year living with Drew, it was to be expected. He vaguely recalled Drew talking about some fish and chips shop not far from campus.
“So what about Phillip?”
The question came out of the blue, and Oswald wasn’t sure how to answer it. “What about him?”
“You didn’t tell me he’d be there tonight.”
Feigning nonchalance, something he’d practiced for years, he shrugged. “He’s been after me for a year or so to do a little private teaching. He wants to come off experienced when he goes into a real training facility. Can’t stand to look like a fool.”
“More acceptable if one is young and adorable rather than grown?”
Oswald pointed a chip at her. “Got it in one.”
Courtney threw back her head and laughed. “Does that make him a git?”
“Determined to learn the lingo?”
“Have to be able to understand when someone is being just a little too vicious with their insults.” Although her shrug looked casual, he imagined she was reliving the memory of the refugee fundraiser.
“I won’t leave your side this weekend. If someone gets out of line, I’ll take care them for you.”
Courtney gave him a funny look. “You can’t protect me in all areas. I need to be able to stand up for myself.”
Her Improper Affair Page 18