Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Nixon laughed softly, ducking his head so I couldn’t see his expression under his ball cap. “Bet you’re wishing you’d gone a little more casual, huh?”
“Shut up.” I unrolled my mat and sat, modeling myself after Nixon’s pose—cross-legged with my palms facing up on my knees.
“Welcome to Baa-Maste,” the instructor said. “Our friends Juniper, Juno, Jules, and Jose are joining us momentarily. Please remember that they may leave gifts, but there’s often no odor.”
“What the hell?” I whispered at Nixon.
He laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking.
A door opened on the right-hand wall, and four baby goats bounced in, followed closely by a handler. Two of them rammed heads.
“Don’t worry, that’s just how they play!” the handler said with a wide smile.
“Oh my god.” My eyes flew to Nixon’s. “Goats? You brought me to goat yoga?”
“Baa-maste, Shannon,” he replied with a wink.
“Unbelievable.” I’d just bought this suit.
“When in doubt, trust the goats,” the instructor said, her voice monotone.
She led us through a breathing exercise, which I did with one eye open. There was zero chance I was getting blindsided, even if they were the cutest little goats I’d ever seen. They even had tiny little shoes.
“Try to relax, Shannon. Trust the goats,” Nixon whispered.
“Bite me,” I responded, moving into child’s pose on my knees and stretching my arms out in front of me.
“Better watch it, you’re coming unraveled over there,” he said, looking my way. “Is that a hot pink bra strap? You little rebel.”
“Get a good look, because this is the only time you’ll see my underwear,” I retorted as a goat climbed onto my back. Okay, that wasn’t too bad. Kind of fun, actually…until I felt a yank at my scalp. “Stop eating my hair!” I flailed, tugging the now-slimy strands free and receiving a bleat of protest.
“Yes, they do like to eat hair,” the instructor said, like it was the cutest thing in the world. “And don’t worry if they leave a gift on your back. It happens all the time.”
They pooped on people?
Nixon flat-out laughed.
“If a goat poops on me, you’re buying me a new suit.”
“It would be worth it just to see your face.”
“You really do love getting under my skin, don’t you?”
“It’s the highlight of my day,” he replied as we rose to tabletop, bracing our weight on hands and knees. His gaze flickered back to my ass, then snapped forward as the hair-hungry goat approached his head. “Hey, little dude.”
Little dude took the hat straight off Nixon’s head.
I sputtered a laugh as Nixon reached to steal it back, but the goat was too quick, leaving Nixon flat on his face. He regained his pose quickly as we moved into cat, arching our backs.
“I think that goat just peed,” he whispered, nodding toward the wall where a goat meandered away from a puddle.
“And now it’s eating the paper towels,” I noted as we were given the instructions for tiger pose.
“Do you have questions there in the back?” the instructor asked.
“Nope, we’re all good here,” Nixon replied.
“Okay, then please pay attention to your breathing, not your fellow classmates,” she lectured as the goat sauntered by, munching on a paper towel.
“She told you,” I whispered at Nixon.
“Better watch your planner,” Nixon said with a smirk, kicking his back leg up but unable to catch it for the pose.
“That’s not even funny.” My gaze snapped to my messenger bag, which was still zipped shut. Then I battled my pants and won, kicking my right leg back and gripping my ankle with my left hand.
“Hot. Damn. Who would have thought someone so rigid could be so…flexible,” he noted, lifting his eyebrows.
“I’ll have you know I’m incredibly bendy,” I said as straight-faced as possible, my lips quirking up at the end.
“Apparently.” The appreciation in his eyes flushed my cheeks.
“Now breathe deeply, moving the air into your core with intention,” the instructor said. “Exhale the negativity, and inhale the positive energy of our little friends.”
Another goat climbed onto my back. “Oh no, I’m not that good at—” Its weight threw me off balance and sent me careening into Nixon.
His arm wrapped around my ribcage as he tucked me against his chest, cushioning me from the impact as we fell to the floor, the goat bounding away to harass the next available student.
“You okay?” Nixon asked, his mouth against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Yep,” I squeaked, managing a nod. At least I would be as soon as I could put an inch or two between us. His hand was splayed protectively under my breasts, holding me tight, and my entire body heated. The man somehow did the impossible and managed to smell delectable in a sea of goats. “Thanks, I’m good.”
“Please be mindful and present,” the instructor sang, her voice no longer so soothing as she arched her eyebrows at us.