Chapter Twenty-Four #2
“Then I think instead of whispering we should say it out loud. She’s going home tonight.”
Melanie blinked. Then smiled. “Okay.”
I turned and found Delaney close by. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her stance was rigid. She watched me with a tightness around her eyes that didn’t belong there.
I ran the variables quickly as I wrapped up my chat with Melanie. “Let me check on a few things since participants should be arriving any minute. Don’t let anyone roam the room until people are settled on their mats,” I instructed.
Melanie gave me the thumbs up.
I rushed over to Delaney. “Everything all good?” I kept my voice neutral, giving her space in case I misinterpreted the situation.
“Yup.” The word came out clipped. Her gaze moved briefly to Melanie and back. “You two seemed cozy.”
There it was.
The small tension in her jaw, the way she’d tucked her arms tighter across her body—not defensive, but contained. She was sitting in it—the feeling—running it through whatever internal process she used before deciding whether to give it a voice.
I waited. Let her get there on her own.
“It’s stupid,” she said finally, her voice quieter. “When she leaned in to whisper to you I—” She stopped, started again. “I know we haven’t exactly defined—”
“Delaney.”
She looked at me.
I squeezed her hand when she intertwined our fingers and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
“There’s nothing going on with Melanie. There has never been anything going on with Melanie.
There will never be anything going on with Melanie.
” I held her gaze so she could read the truth in mine.
“Only one person holds my attention. And it’s been true for a long time. ”
Delaney gave me a soft smile and leaned in. “What were you whispering about?”
“The older dog. She’s been here over a year. Melanie was afraid speaking it too loudly might make it not come true.”
“Which one?”
I pointed at Marmalade.
“Then let’s see what we can do about that tonight.”
I wanted to kiss her so badly that every muscle in my body grew taut. But we’d made a promise about what this looked like when we worked together. I understood the reasoning. It didn’t make standing even six inches away from her any easier.
My gaze shifted to her mouth. The curve of it. The way her bottom lip pressed to her upper lip like she was holding something back.
I knew what would happen if I gave in. Exactly how fast I’d lose control if I did.
She glanced at me under her lashes. “You’re thinking about kissing me.”
The fact that she knew made my cock sit up and take notice, my body reacting before I could shut it down.
I stepped closer anyway, clearly playing with fire. I placed my lips next to her ear. “Kissing isn’t all I’m thinking about.”
Her breath caught, and that one tiny sound nearly undid me.
Color rushed to her face, and down her throat. She swallowed. “I need water.”
She turned quickly, like staying any longer wasn’t an option if we wanted to maintain our professional boundaries, and walked directly to the water station and chugged two full glasses.
I turned toward the door before I could follow her.
And then heard them.
Not because they were loud—loud wasn’t the word to describe it. More that Glamma moved through spaces the way the pressure system moved through weather patterns. You became aware of a change in the atmosphere before you could identify its source.
Glamma swooped through the door first with Gladys and Goldie flanking her, and Martha two steps behind.
The four of them sported coordinated yoga wear that suggested a group shopping trip had occurred.
They’d clearly discussed mat placement ahead of time because they went straight to the second row, left side, without consulting each other, and arranged themselves efficiently.
My grandmother spotted me from across the room and her whole face changed—her mouth softened and her eyes lit up in a way that had nothing to do with the conversation she’d been having seconds ago.
Family was everything to her.
I went to her and gave her a hug.
She held me a moment longer than she typically did. I inhaled her perfume, the same one she’d worn all my life. “How’s my favorite grandson?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow. “You forget we know you say that to all of us.”
“And every time I mean it.” She pulled back to look at me and homed in. “Thank you for doing this. I know I threw you and Delaney for a loop when I suggested this—”
“Suggested doesn’t seem like the right word you’re looking for.” I tried to sound sarcastic, but from the knowing look Glamma shot me, I didn’t think I had fooled her one bit.
She waved her hand as though it was of no consequence. Which it wasn’t, because her wild scheming had turned into something I never could have imagined. And it made me wonder if that hadn’t been her plan all along.
“Either way, you look … happier.” A pleased look crossed her face. “That’s all I want for you, you know. For all of you. To be happy in the ways that are right for you specifically.”
“I know, Glamma. We want that for you, too.”
She was a fixture in this community and our matriarch.
She kept us grounded. Helped us figure out who we were, with and without the Kingsley name.
We knew giving back to our community was not just the right thing to do, but also our duty.
We had more than enough and we were taught to use it to help others.
She patted my face once and turned with purpose to Delaney.
I sent a silent apology across the room. Delaney caught it and returned my look with a smile. Glamma was a wild card, but she knew that.
My grandmother crossed the space with a purposeful stride. She took both of Delaney’s hands in hers, showing me without words how much she liked and respected her.
Delaney’s smile lit up her face, her shoulders lifting with it—then she blinked, caught somewhere between delighted and alarmed.
“You and Marc have exceeded my expectations with this,” she whispered, drawing Delaney into a hug.
Delaney stepped away, her features easing into a rare softness.
Glamma looked satisfied in that Glamma way she did when one of her plans was proceeding precisely on schedule, and turned to join Gladys at the crystal table.
“Are these for purchase or strictly decorative?” Gladys asked.
“Decorative,” Delaney answered. “But everyone can take one crystal from the basket.”
“This one’s a particularly good one.” Gladys set down the rose quartz she was examining,
Goldie had settled in the middle of her mat, eyes closed, and her palms upturned. “I read that everything is made of energy.”
“It is,” Delaney confirmed.
“And that spaces accumulate energy from everyone who’s ever been in them. And that animals hold it differently than people.” Goldie opened her eyes.
Delaney smiled. “That’s also true.”
“I brought notes about what I read,” Goldie pulled out a notebook and pen.
“You brought notes to a yoga class?” I asked.
“I bring notes everywhere, Marcus,” she said, entirely unbothered. “It’s called being prepared.” Then she turned to Delaney. “Have you thought about giving a class to learn more about the crystals and how to best use them?”
She looked delighted. “I love that idea, Goldie. Let me give it some more thought,” she answered as the rest of the participants followed Theo into the room.
We were at least twelve minutes into our standing sequence—Cheryl at the front guiding the participants through a modified warrior flow, the room was actually finding its rhythm—when I noticed Theo went still on the left side of the room.
I followed his eyeline.
Butterball.
The fifteen-pound Flemish Giant rabbit relinquished to us last month from its previous owner.
He hadn’t escaped. There was no actual breach or containment needed, no gap I could identify. Butterball simply made his way through the room with a hop of nonchalance.
He stopped by to see Martha first. She opened one eye, regarded him, gave him a single chin scratch, and closed her eye again. He accepted this and moved on.
Gladys got a full examination. She held still, chin tipped just a fraction, like she’d decided the best strategy was not to interfere with the process.
Then he found Doug.
Doug was in the warrior two pose, arms extended, doing reasonably well for a man who had announced on arrival that he was here against his will and wasn’t ever doing this again.
Next to him, his wife ignored it all.
“There’s a—” Doug started.
“It’s animal yoga,” his wife, Sienna huffed.
“Deep breath in—” Cheryl said from the front, not breaking stride.
“It’s looking at me.”
“Animals are very intuitive,” Goldie said from two mats over. “He probably sensed your energy.”
“My energy,” Doug repeated in a flat voice.
Sienna didn't even bother stemming her laughter. “He likes you, Doug.”
“I don’t want to be liked by a rabbit.”
“Too late,” Sienna said cheerfully.
Butterball visited the earnest young woman in the front row who simply incorporated him into her pose without breaking form, and then he made his way to Glamma.
That’s when I noticed what Theo was trying to tell me.
Butterball was leaving a trail of turds behind him.
Note to self: No rabbits or small animals that shit everywhere for the next class.
I made a motion to one of the volunteers to clean up his mess. At least his diet was primarily hay, which meant the situation was manageable.
Theo moved to intercept him, carefully trying not to disrupt the flow of class or give the rabbit a reason to bolt. His technique was patient and unhurried. Butterball was faster than he looked.
Glamma saw the furry white rabbit coming her way.
She tracked his approach from her warrior pose with the undisguised delight that she gave to most things.
When Butterball arrived at her mat, sat down, and looked up at her, she smiled.
“Well, hello, young man. It’s too bad my Coco isn’t here. I think she’d like you.”