It was the last please that got to me. Not just his minty breath puffing against my face or the sorrow and remorse he’s clearly showing in his sapphire eyes, but the word itself, which wounded me in a very deep place.

Please.

A plea. I would venture to bet this man has never begged for anything in his entire life, and here he stands, wearing his emotions on his sleeve for me to see, touch, and feel.

A bone-crushing ache starts up in my chest. “Grant…I want to. I really do, but I’m scared,” I whisper, my head still tilted down, my gaze focused on nothing, even though my heart is pounding a harsh rhythm in my chest.

Grant lifts my chin and keeps my body wrapped tightly against his. “Don’t be scared. Don’t ever be scared of me. I’d never hurt you.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Don’t you see, Grant? You are hurting me.”

He shakes his head. “No. We’re going to give this a second chance. You’re going to show me everything you want to save, and I’m gonna…” He lets out a labored sigh. “I’m going to find a way to make it all okay. I don’t know how exactly, but right now, I want nothing more than to be standing right here. With you. On your street, in front of your yoga studio, holding you close.”

My heart squeezes, and my mind fills with a million stray thoughts. Could he really be suggesting that he’s going to try to find a way to save the street?

“What does that mean?”

His lips flatten into a thin line. “Lamb, I don’t have the answer just yet. For now, just give me a second chance. Can you do that?”

I close my eyes, and the answer is so simple. There really is no other option. When it comes to Grant Winters, I lose all reason and fight.

“Yes. For you, I will.”

His lips form an ear-to-ear smile. The beauty of it is blinding, and I love that it’s pointed at me because of something I said to him.

“You’re not going to regret this. I won’t let you regret this.” He nods as if he’s making a deal with himself.

I cup his cheek and run my fingertips from his temple to his jaw. “Your second chance still comes at a price.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Everything comes with a price, baby.”

“Every single week you are going to meet me here for a class of my choosing. No complaints, no get-out-of-jail-free card, no negotiations. I want a solid commitment.”

He runs his tongue over his front teeth. “If that’s what it takes to be near you and get a second chance, then I agree to your terms. You still have to go out with me once a week as well.”

I frown. “Technically it’s you asking me for a second chance, so really, I shouldn’t have to do anything,” I remind him.

He chuckles and wraps his arms low at my waist, keeping me close. “Are you telling me you don’t want to go on dates with me? Get to know me better in my world?”

I do. So much it fills my heart with joy and my body with butterflies. I tip my head as if I’m considering it. “Well…when you put it like that…”

Grant laughs out loud, nuzzles my nose, and kisses me softly. His lips are warm and velvety. I could kiss him for a lifetime and consider myself blessed. When he pulls away, he grins. “I figured you’d see my side of it.”

I shrug and spin out of his arms. “I think it’s time you start your second chance right now.”

He glances down at his pristine suit. He looks absolutely edible in the charcoal-gray suit and light-blue dress shirt. The hue of the shirt makes his eyes look even brighter.

“Not exactly dressed for yoga today, lamb.” He smirks.

I purse my lips, cross my arms, and tap my foot. “If you really want to get back into my good graces, it shouldn’t matter what you’re wearing. Besides, for the class we’re going to take, you’re dressed perfectly fine.”

He cringes. “Why does this feel like you’re setting me up?”

I glance over my shoulder, unlock the door to Lotus House, and push in to shut off the alarm. “Because you don’t trust anyone?”

He clears his throat, and his eyes pierce mine as he responds. “I trust you.”

I smile huge. I can’t help the happiness that flows through my form like healing balm. “Then come in. Class will start in twenty minutes, and it’s always completely full. You’ll want to get a good spot up front.”

He follows me into the building. I chance a glance over my shoulder, and as expected, his eyes are on my bubble-butt. Heat picks up around my neck, probably staining my cheeks a bright red. I sway my hips as I walk, wanting to give him a bit of a show, hook him deep.

I can’t believe he came today to ask for a second chance. When I saw him standing by the door to Lotus House, my stomach dropped and my heart squeezed. It was as if everything inside me went perfectly still. I was afraid to breathe in case he’d disappear. Perhaps I was seeing a mirage, but the hope inside my soul sprang to the surface, and I knew it was real. He was there waiting for me…ready to beg for a second chance.

Grant leans against the reception desk as I stow away my things. The door opens behind me, and Atlas Powers enters alongside his wife, Mila. They met here and have taught a couple classes a week to keep up with the practice that brought them together.

Atlas has a mess of curls flopping all over his head as he hooks an arm around his wife’s shoulder. She’s looking stunning as usual, her honey-toasted Latina skin tone making my glow-in-the-dark self envious as always.

“Luna, babe, how goes it?” Atlas shuffles up to me, lets his wife go, grabs me by the shoulders, and pulls me up to the desk so he can lean over and kiss my cheek.

I ruffle his curly hair. “Did you even bother brushing it this morning, or did you just roll out of bed ready to come teach?” I laugh.

Grant watches from the side, his expression one of serious contemplation.

Atlas laughs and runs a hand through his hair, the curls flopping all over the place.

“Curly doesn’t care what his hair looks like.” Mila purses her lips and sets an arm on the desk to lean in. “I keep telling him he should cut it off, try something a little more business-like, but what do I know?” She levels a fiery glare his way.

Atlas jerks his head back, and a horrified look crosses his chiseled face. “Wildcat, don’t you dare lie. You know I’m never cutting my hair.” His voice dips low, and he palms his wife’s neck, bringing his face much closer to hers. “Because my sexy-as-fuck wife turns into a tigress the second I get my mouth on her and likes to run her fingers through it and hold on for dear life. So no, I’m not cutting my fuckin’ hair. Get that shit outta your head…right”—he kisses her forehead—“fucking”—he kisses her nose—“now.” He lays a deep kiss on her, wrapping one arm around her waist and plastering her to his chest while he takes her mouth.

I step back and move over to where Grant is standing. He instantly claims me by hooking my waist to his. “Those two newlyweds?” he whispers.

I laugh lightly and shake my head. “No. They’ve been married a while and have a three-year-old daughter.”

“Damn…” Grant breathes, awe coating his tone while he watches the couple.

The crazy-in-love duo stops making out when the door opens and patrons start filing in. They break away from one another but only far enough that they can walk side by side.

“Hey, guys, who’s got Aria?” I ask about their daughter.

“Genevieve. She’s going to bring her here after class before she teaches prenatal. I’m going to take that class too,” Mila says, smiling.

I open my mouth in shock. “Are you?”

Atlas spins around a beaming smile on his face. “She finally let me knock her up again!” He fist-pumps the air like he’s a quarterback who just made a touchdown pass at a football game before kissing his wife’s temple sweetly.

Chills race down my arms, and I rush around the desk to bring Mila into a hug. “My goodness, I’m happy for you both. And little Aria will be delighted to be a big sister.”

Mila hugs me, her eyes filling with tears. “Yeah, she will. Thanks. We haven’t really told anyone but Moe yet. We’re only ten weeks, so we’re keeping it on the down-low,” she whispers and glances around.

I put my fingers to my lips in a shushing gesture and bring her into another hug.

“Wildcat, we need to get ready. They’re coming in droves. Two by two. Today’s class is going to be so much fun with couples. I’ve been dying to teach this forever! Thanks for letting me, Luna.” Atlas clasps my hand and squeezes it.

“Of course. And I’m going to be taking it today too.” I glance at Grant, who’s leaning casually against the end of the desk, looking quite dapper in his bespoke suit.

Atlas looks over my head to where Grant is standing.

His eyebrows rise to his hairline, and he grins sexily. “You’re taking my couples yoga with the suit over there?”

Mila makes no bones about maneuvering herself around me and walks over to Grant. “You seeing our girl Luna?” She tilts her head and rests a hand on her hip, attitude flying without even trying.

Grant stands straight and puts his hand out in greeting. “Grant Winters, and if by seeing you mean dating, then yes. We’re dating.” His eyes flash to mine and dare me to contradict him. I don’t because I like the idea of dating Grant Winters, even though it should be all kinds of wrong.

Mila ignores his hand and squints up with her accessing brown eyes. “You don’t seem like her type,” she blurts with zero tact.

“Mila!” I warn.

She scowls and looks him up and down, even though that’s pretty hard to do since she’s just barely over five feet to his six feet plus.

Mila continues undaunted with her assessment. “Fine as hell. That part fits. She deserves a hottie. Though you seem pretty stiff,” she carries on, and I sigh.

Grant smirks. “Not for long, seeing as I’m about to take a yoga class.”

Ooh! Point for Grant. Mila is a tough cookie on a good day. She does not trust easily, although she’s been getting better since becoming a wife and mother. Still, she has a guilty-until-proven-innocent system with new people.

Atlas finally cages his wife by putting an arm around her chest from behind. “Wildcat, leave the poor guy alone. He’s just dating Luna; he’s not a terrorist.”

Mila puts a hand up and points at Grant. “I’m watching you, suit. You better be good to her. She deserves the best.”

Atlas grabs her wrist, tucks it to her chest, and kisses her neck before speaking to us. “Sorry. She gets like this when she’s pregnant. On a good day, she’s feisty. Pregnant…” He sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Super protective. I think it’s the mama gene coming out full force.”

Mila cringes and spins around. “Do you want me to chop your balls off and serve them to you for dinner, curly?” She makes a face and deepens her voice, mimicking him. “She gets like this when pregnant.” Her eyes widen. And she lifts a pointy finger and pokes him in the chest.

“Ouch, baby.” Atlas pouts and goes for the finger.

Her voice rises to a threatening pitch. “I get like this when I see my friend with a man I’ve not seen before, and he’s all sexy-suit-wearing-rich-guy to my Zen-loving, granola-crunching, yoga-teaching bestie! One of these things is not like the other!” She growls and spins back around.

I step in, knowing how Mila gets when she’s pregnant, which is far beyond protective. I think it has a lot to do with her hormones changing and the lack of blood relatives in her life. Her friends have become her family, and she holds us all close to the chest.

I place my hands on Mila’s biceps and rub them up and down in a soothing gesture. “It’s fine, honey. We’ve been dating for the past couple weeks. I know what I’m getting myself into. You have nothing to worry about.”

Her brown eyes water, and she bites her lip, nodding. Then she pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not usually like this…”

I rub my hands down her back. “I know, honey. Baby makes you a little protective, but it’s endearing, and I love you even more because of it.”

Mila nods and lets me go. “Um, sorry, Grant.” She sniffs, and Atlas brings her into the safety and comfort of his arms. Mila looks up at her husband. “I don’t know what got into me.”

He lays a hand over her belly. “Wildcat, it’s okay. Baby loves his feisty mama, and so do I.” He kisses her. “Now come on. I’m itching to teach this class for the first time.”

She grins and nods.

“See you in a bit. And uh, sorry again.”

“No worries. See you in a bit.” I wave and then move over to Grant and place my hand on his chest.

“That was…intense.”

I grin, happy that my crazy pregnant friend didn’t freak him out too much. “My friends are all different kinds of beautiful crazy.”

He smiles. “I’m looking forward to meeting them all.”

“Good. Now we’ve got to go because the class will be starting in a few minutes.” My heart picks up a fast rhythm as I realize which class we’re about to take.

“Bring it on,” he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “So…granola-crunching?”

Warmth fills my chest as he nudges my temple with his forehead. It’s an intimate gesture, one I’ve not had for a very long time.

I shrug. “I do like granola in my yogurt and my cereal and as a snack.”

“Fascinating. And I took you for a cheeseburger and fries kind of girl,” he murmurs against my hairline, the rumble of his voice seeping into my chest, sending a bout of arousal through me.

“Oh, I’m that too.”

“Really? I was just introduced to a great pub. Maybe I’ll take you there.” His voice is warm and panty-melting, which isn’t going to matter in a couple minutes when he realizes what type of class we’re taking. Panties are absolutely not needed. I cannot wait to see the look on his face when he realizes what he agreed to.

“I love pubs. And burgers. And beer.”

“And yoga and tree-hugging and making people happy…” he adds.

I smile and squeeze his waist tighter. “That too.”

* * *

The lights are low in the room when we enter. Atlas is at the riser with Mila, setting out their mats, side by side, only two inches apart. A tingle of excitement ripples through my body as I realize what I’m about to do.

“Grab two mats, will you?” I gesture to where couples are picking their mats, a variety of colors to choose from. I always find it interesting what color people will choose. It typically ends up being whatever color charka is driving them that day.

Shockingly, Grant comes back with two in a deep-fuchsia color. In the color wheel of chakras, the color represents the seventh chakra, the crown, connoting enlightenment.

I’m pleased with his choice but surprised by it. He doesn’t seem like the type of man who would feel a sense of enlightenment at this stage in not only our weird relationship, if I can even call it that, but in his world. Perhaps he needs to be enlightened. I imagine that’s what my friend Dara, the aura reader, would say.

Atlas claps his hands together, and both of us turn to see what he’s going to say.

“Since this is our first couples’ yoga class, I’ve got my beautiful wife, Mila, with me.” He glances at her adoringly, and lightness starts to fill the room with a palpable happy energy. “What you need to do is place your mats next to your partner’s, about two to four inches apart. I hope you chose your partner well, because you are going to be touching one another a lot. Sweaty can be sexy…and slippery.” He winks at his wife, and she rolls her eyes. “Be careful when you do the more advanced poses, and remember, if there is something you’re not comfortable attempting, just stay at the first level. I’ll be starting each pose with a beginner’s pose, then intermediate, and move to advanced poses in some cases. Take the phase that suits you best.”

I grab Grant’s hand as he stands, looking completely out of place in his suit. “Don’t worry, we’ll start small and work our way up if you’re feeling good. Okay?”

He nods, and then his eyes meet mine. “I trust you, Luna.”

I smile. “Good.” I say the word but wonder if it’s going to hold true when he realizes what we’re about to do.

“All right, class…” Atlas grins. “You know what to do. Take it all off. There are cubbies in the back to store your stuff.”

Grant’s eyes flash to mine, and his jaw hardens. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

Instead of answering, I swallow down the anxiety, cross my arms over my waist, grip the hem of my tank, and pull it over my head. His lips flatten and his nostrils flare. I continue, repeating the move this time with my sports bra in hand as I tug it over my head, my bare breasts bouncing back into place.

“Jesus Christ.” His gaze is all over me. “Luna…” His voice is a low growl.

I cock an eyebrow, put my thumbs in at my yoga pants, and push them and my panties down in one fell swoop.

Grant steps forward and plasters his body to mine. “What the fuck are you doing?” He positions his hands over my ass as if to protect me from other curious eyes.

I giggle into his neck and kiss him there. “Look around, big man. What is everyone doing?”

He turns his head and takes in the other couples in various stages of undress.

“I don’t…” He swallows, and his voice is grittier, like a box of rocks being shaken.

“It’s naked yoga. Now strip.” I push away from him, and he just barely lets me go.

“You expect me to remove my clothes?” His eyes run the course of my body, and he grinds his teeth, puts his hands into his hair, and tugs. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Your turn,” I taunt. “Otherwise, I’m going to have to ask the gentleman who came alone to be my partner. Rub my naked body all over his during the poses…”

His gaze turns murderous. “The fuck you are.” He shrugs his jacket off until it hits the floor. He yanks at his tie viciously until it separates from its knot, and he rips it off. He unbuttons his shirt unbelievably fast while toeing off his shoes and socks.

My mouth goes dry as I wait for any bit of skin to be revealed.

Grant opens his shirt, and nothing but golden tanned skin greets my eyes. My goodness, he’s gorgeous everywhere. He lets the shirt hang open as he undoes his belt, flicks the button on his dress slacks, pushes them down, and steps out of them.

A pair of skin-tight, black boxer briefs covering a pretty large bulge greets me.

He steps closer to me, and my hands move as if they have a mind of their own, in search for warm golden skin to caress. My fingers and palms make contact, and I sway on my feet at the unbelievable warmth and firmness of his chest. I run my hands from his brick-like abdominals up to his defined square pecs, pushing the shirt over his shoulders and off so my gaze is no longer hindered by fine cotton. It falls to the floor in the heap at his feet.

Grant’s body is trembling in my hands. “Are you frightened?” I look up, curving my hands around the lip of his underwear, teasing the skin there with my fingers.

His eyes are the darkest midnight as he dips his head. One of his hands rests against my hip, the fingers digging into the flesh there. The other hand curls around my nape, his thumb lifting my chin. “No,” he growls. “I’m just doing my best not to get hard as a rock.”

I chuckle lightly. “There is an awful lot of naked flesh to gaze at in this class.”

His fingers twitch against my body, and he shakes his head. “Can’t see anything but you. Your pearl-white skin. Rose-tipped breasts, which are the perfect goddamn size for my hands…my mouth. The red curls a teasing triangle like a fucking arrow pointing to heaven. And your ass…” He moves both hands down to my booty and cups both cheeks, pressing his hardening length against my belly deliciously. I can’t help the soft moan that slips past my lips.

“I could write erotic love poems about how much I want this ass.” He runs his nose along the side of my face, his breath skating across my ear. “You drive me insane clothed. Naked…fuck, lamb, all bets are off.”

I lock my arms around him and force his face up so he can see mine. The fact that he is hot for my body makes me bold and brave. A feeling I’m not used to but appreciate all the same. “Big man, you promised our deal was on, and your deal is to experience a class a week. Right now, you’re going to experience couples’ naked yoga. Now remove your shorts and show me what I have to look forward to.”

Grant licks his lips, and I practically swoon where I stand, my knees feeling week, my heart pounding, my sex softening and aching with every breath he graces me with.

“As you wish.” He loops his fingers into his boxer briefs and pushes them down his legs.

I practically faint with need when I see his thick penis, long, hard, and flushed with desire, standing proudly at attention. And all for me. I made his body respond like this.

“You’re more than I could have dreamed of,” I admit, my voice quavering. All I can think about is how good it will feel to have his hard edges pressing into my much softer ones.

Grant stands straight before me, his manhood a powerful, virile display of his masculinity and desire for me. “Lamb, you are my living dream come true.”