Everyone takes a turn stroking the groove, noticing how it’s smooth and shinier than the area around it.
“That’s where she wants to put these fingers right here.” I know I’m going to need to be more detailed with my instructions when they each take a turn, but we’ll get to that in due time. For now it’s good for them to get a look at proper form.
“Okay, now we’re in business,” I say. “Sarah, go ahead and lift the bar straight up.”
She makes a big show of rubbing her hands together and pretending to psych herself up for power lifting. There’s another ripple of laughter through the group as Sarah puts her hands back where I showed her earlier. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
I’m conscious of her perfect breasts flexing and shifting and moving under that top, and I wonder if we should have started with an exercise that involves less opportunity for me to maim myself gawking at my fiancée.
Fiancée.
The word sends an unexpected rattle of excitement through me. We agreed not to address our engagement with the group just yet, since Sarah wants to wait until after Cassie’s wedding. We agreed to give this thing a trial period, and Sarah’s intent on sticking with it. I can respect that.
But as I watch my funny, beautiful fiancée, I realize I love thinking about it. I love the idea of waking up next to her every morning for the rest of our lives.
Sarah finishes her turn with the power rack, and we cycle through everyone else’s turn without incident. As soon as we’re done, Aidan raises his hand. “My brother says there’s something called a clean jerk,” he says. “Will we get to do that?”
“No clean jerks today,” I tell him. “That’s a bit more of an advanced move.”
Laurel raises her hand. “How about that thing where you have weights in your hands like this and you do like this?”
She demonstrates a combo that’s sort of like a front squat followed by an overhead press with hands pantomiming dumbbells. Her form is surprisingly awesome, and I feel the same pinch of pride that used to hit me whenever Shane did something the so-called experts claimed he’d never do.
“That’s a thruster,” I tell Laurel, wondering why I never noticed before how weirdly filthy these terms sound when you say them out loud. “Great full-body exercise that works your legs as well as your back and shoulders and abs. We can definitely build up to that one.”
But probably not today. I glance around the weight room, surprised to see everyone still rapt with attention. “Junie mentioned wanting a Beyoncé bootie,” I say. “Let’s do some basic glute bridges.”
“What’s a glute?” someone asks.
“That would be the gluteus maximus,” I say, trying not to watch Sarah’s as she bends down to tie her shoe. “Also known as your bootie, backside, bottom, butt, posterior?—”
“I think we get the idea.” Sarah grins. “Want to show us how to work it?”
I certainly do, though not here in a roomful of people. I turn to the weight rack and start grabbing dumbbells, passing them out to everyone who lines up. “Everyone pick out a mat over there and lie down flat on your back.”
Sarah leads the way, dropping her mat on the floor and arranging herself alluringly at my feet. Okay, I know she’s not trying to be alluring. She’s probably not even aware that every move she makes is turning me on, and I’m hoping everyone here is equally unaware. The last thing I need is for everyone to figure out I’m mentally undressing their caregiver.
I adjust her position, and all the blood leaves my head the instant I put my hands on her. “Feet hip-distance apart with your heels close to your butt. Now Sarah’s going to rest the dumbbells on her hips like this and slowly lift her booty off the floor.”
She does exactly what I say, demonstrating perfect form. All eyes are on us, and a few murmurs of understanding ripple through the group. We’re a good team, Sarah and me. I’d forgotten what it’s like to be part of a team, part of a mission so much bigger than it seems. Being here with her, helping people like my brother—this—it’s something I’ve been missing.
Or hell, maybe I’m just distracted by the feel of Sarah’s hips flexing under my hands.
“Wow, Ian,” Aidan says. “You’re sweating a lot.”
“It’s because he loves Sarah,” Junie says wisely, nodding like a sage. “People sweat when they love each other.”
Is that how that works?
I look down at Sarah and feel a definite pinch where my heart ought to be.
Chapter 11
Sarah
I wave goodbye in the parking lot as Junie steps into the van piloted by the night shift guy from the group home.
