Wearing a welcoming smile,Hope called out, “Okay, everyone! Please find a mat so we can get started.”
Earlier, she had done her own Hatha yoga routine, along with some extra meditative breath work. The same as Monday morning, she’d done it naked since it was the way she felt the freest. Unlike on Monday, she hadn’t done it on the dock, but found a peaceful spot not front and center of the lodge during breakfast.
Because of it, she was starting out this class grounded and ready to conquer the day.
Since this was a resort, most of the people joining her class had a mix of experience. Some wanted to simply give yoga a try since it was part of the inclusive package, others did yoga on a regular basis, whether at home or at a studio.
Because of this mix, she always modified the poses to accommodate each skill level as well as the variety of body types. The resort guests appreciated the time and attention they received from her. The classes at the beginning of theweek started out small, but by Friday, she always had a full class.
She was thankful for that word of mouth since she really liked this gig. It helped supplement her income, which, if she had to be painfully honest, was pretty pitiful. Running a yoga studio from home barely covered her monthly expenses. Not when her regulars were only Fisher Falls residents.
Not a lot were open to it. Some religious people even called yoga a sin because it was tied to Hinduism.
She mentally rolled her eyes. She certainly wasn’t trying to convert anyone. She wasn’t even Hindu herself. She simply loved the practice of yoga and only wanted her students to be healthy and happy.
Before the resort opened, she had attended the open house, like most of Fisher Falls, and found herself impressed.
When she ran into Danica, Hope pitched the idea of adding yoga to their activities. The youngest Lyons sibling had been all for it, but with the hustle and bustle of finishing the resort, Hope’s proposal had fallen through the cracks.
When she’d crossed paths with Evelyn Lyons, the matriarch of the family and the resort owners’ mother, Hope slipped it into their casual conversation.
A day later, she got a call from the CEO, Dylan Lyons, asking her to email him her résumé, a class plan, and fill out the form for a background check. She also had to sign a non-disclosure agreement.
Now here she was, currently standing in front of Double D Ranch guests ready to get their stretch on. Most likely for all the activities they would be doing later, whether it be kinky sex or riding a trail horse.
The nice part about working on the resort was that she had full access to everything the guests did. For the most part. She could eat in the employee area of the dining hall.She could swim in the pool. If she asked, she could probably go on a trail ride, or milk a cow, or feed the llamas. Or even give the two adopted donkeys some scratches and treats.
The Lyonses were generous with both their guests and the people they employed. Nobody could deny that they certainly helped out the area. They could’ve simply sold their late father’s farm to a corporate developer. The area could’ve been inundated with condos and an eyesore of a shopping plaza and next thing you knew, the new residents would be bitching about a coyote or black bear wandering through their community.
And the original area residents would be bitching about the new “pansies” who moved in and were attempting to gentrify the area.
Fisher Falls residents didn’t take kindly to change. However, most of them begrudgingly accepted the ranch resort. What they considered the lesser of two evils.
Luckily, the Lyonses tried to be the best neighbors they could be. The unorthodox business certainly spurred the economy in the area.
“All right, everyone ready? We’re going to start off with a relaxing flow this morning. Everyone stand at the front of your mat. We’ll start off with the Palm Tree pose. It’s good for your balance and posture, then we’ll move on to sun salutations. Are you ready?”
Various responses came from the ten attendees, some enthusiastic, some not so much. She got it. It was early. They probably hadn’t had their fill of caffeine yet. And if you tried hard enough, you could just smell breakfast being prepared in the lodge’s commercial kitchen.
Normally, by the end of the forty-five minute class and during the final pose, Savasana, growlingstomachs—as well as snoring—would be heard over the ambient music she played in the background.
After she demonstrated the proper form, everyone moved into the pose and Hope weaved around the mats and guests, gently guiding anyone who needed it.
As she was about to head back to the front of the class, a large man in a tank top, board shorts, and sneakers with white socks that came up mid-calf, walked through the door of The Mane Event Hall.
While she preferred to hold her classes outside so her students could be “at one” with nature, her weather app, as well as the dark cloudy sky, predicted thunderstorms this morning, indicating it was safer to hold her class inside. She wasn’t a big fan of the thought of lightning lighting up her students like Christmas trees. She could safely guess that would be the resort owners’ preference, too.
She fought her smile when she recognized that handsome face.
Cameron Cook: head of security and hottie.
Unlike the polo shirt he wore while working, the black tank showed off more of his very delicious body, as well as the sleeve of a black and gray sea monster—possibly a kraken—that took up his left arm.
Cam glanced around with a grimace. “Sorry for being late.”
She pressed a finger to her lips in a shushing motion and quickly grabbed him a mat from the nearby cart. She rolled it out at the back of the class. “Better late than never,” she said under her breath. “I’m glad you decided to give it a shot.”
“I’ll let you know if I’m feeling the same once this is over.”
