Everything in Between (10 page)

Zae snorted. “That’s why he hooks up with a different blonde every few weeks, because he loves
me
? Who’s the latest one?” She snapped her fingers when the name came to her. “Heather. That cross-eyed Pilates instructor who picked him up at the donut shop.”

“Chip has needs, just like you, Mrs. Same-Time-Next-Year.”

“That’s
Ms.
Same-Time-Next-Year, and lemme tell you sumthin’ girlie, I don’t need it nearly as much as Chip does, apparently.”

“Is it the age difference?”

“That’s the least of it.” Zae sighed through her nose. “It would be different if he were in his forties. We’d both be in similar places. He’s at an age where he should be thinking wife and children. I’m long past the point of making babies just to see what they’d look like.”

Wide-eyed, Cinder glared at her. “Is that why you had children? Curiosity?”

“Isn’t that why everyone wants a kid? To see what it would look like?”

“The more I learn about you, the more I wonder how we became such good friends.” Cinder laughed.

“I’m irresistible. It’s a curse, but I do with it what I can.”

“I think you should give Chip a shot.”

“I think you should shut up.”

Cinder propped an elbow on her knee and tucked her fist under her chin. “Most people are less cantankerous after they get some nookie.”

“I’m not most people, am I?” Zae shot back.

Chip’s advanced students put themselves through their warm-ups while he stood in Sheng Li’s tiny lobby, pacing before the tempered, one-way glass window. He could see out, but passersby couldn’t see in. After the break-in that had prefaced Gian’s shooting the year before, Gian had replaced the old window with the new and improved version, which was shatterproof, bulletproof, and didn’t allow outsiders to see who or how many were inside the dojo.

The last thing Chip wanted was for Zae to see him scouring the street for her.

She hadn’t missed a class in years, not even when she was sick or nursing a minor injury, so he didn’t expect her to ditch tonight. But honestly, he never knew what Zae would do.

“You can’t expect your students to be on time for class if you don’t show them the same consideration.”

Still facing Lockwood Avenue, Chip cringed. He’d been caught, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“Were you watching for me?”

It was officially worse. Chip turned and played off his discomfort. “I’m not looking for anyone. I wanted to make sure the brochure holder was full.” He patted the stack of Sheng Li brochures attached to the corkboard affixed to the wall adjacent to the entrance. “When did you arrive? I didn’t see you come in.”

“I was in the locker room,” Zae said as Chip passed her to enter the dojo. “I came in early to use the whirlpool.”

“Is everything okay?” Chip bowed to the mat before stepping onto it. Zae followed suit.

“I’m still paying for all the dancing at the wedding. My lower back has been killing me ever since.”

“Back pain is a natural part of aging,” Chip commented. “My leg has been bothering me since I helped Gian move all those appliances and punch bowls yesterday. I should take a dunk in the whirlpool myself after class.”

She bit her lip, stifling the suggestion that she join him in the whirlpool. Imagining him in his trunks, his fine body being buffeted by jets of water, did nothing to strengthen her resolve to never repeat the night they’d spent at the Chouteau Mansion.

Chip took his place at the front of his twenty students. Zae took hers in the center of the first row. The students raised their arms shoulder high at their sides, spacing themselves appropriately for their first exercise. They would run through the combination Chip had taught them last week, then learn a new move to incorporate into it. If time permitted, Chip would pair them up for sparring.

“Give me twenty push-ups, Zae,” Chip said before the lesson got good and started.

“What the hell for?” she squawked.

“Make it thirty, and it’s because your belt isn’t tied correctly,” Chip said, stern.

“It looks better tied in a bow.” Zae crossed her arms over her chest, shifting her weight to her right leg.

Chip took one of the tails of her bow and gave it a sharp yank, jerking her close to him. Zae’s pretty loop slipped out and the belt tightened uncomfortably. “If your belt is improperly tied, an opponent could cause you serious harm by pulling on it,” he said directly in her face. “Take a moment to retie your
obi
, do your push-ups, and get back in line.”

Refusing to utter the appropriate “Yes,
sensai
,” Zae strolled to the edge of the mat. She undid her belt and began slowly retying it, purposely catching Chip’s attention. Even as he led the rest of the class in a series of punches and kicks, he watched Zae in his peripheral vision.

She held one tail of the wide belt in her hand and guided it into the single loop at her waist. Up and down, over and over, she pushed the long tail into the loop, her gaze never leaving Chip’s.

His lips parted. Perspiration glistened on his forehead. Zae suspected it had nothing to do with his exertions leading the class. She dropped her chin, her eyes still on him, and licked her upper lip. One of her classmates, a younger man new to Sheng Li, stared openly at Zae. With each punch, he moved closer to the woman in front of him.

Zae gave the tail of her belt a sudden, decisive tug, moaning as she did so. Her young classmate drove his right fist into the woman in front of him, sending her flying forward.

“Do your push-ups, Zae, before I make it fifty!” Chip ordered, his usually friendly tone brusque. He swiped a hand over his sweaty face. “Unless you want to join her, Mr. Cavendish, you’ll pay more attention to what you’re doing and less to Mrs. Richardson.”

Giggling to herself, Zae began her pushups. She’d performed hundreds of push-ups, perhaps thousands, in his class for her many rules infractions. The push-ups had toned her deltoids, biceps and triceps—they’d done nothing to tone the surliness he inspired in her.

Push-ups done, Zae rejoined the class. “Welcome back, Mrs. Richardson,” Chip said. “Your
obi
is perfect.” He bowed to her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,
sensai
,” she sweetly replied.

Chip swallowed hard. Such a gracious reply from anyone else wouldn’t have alarmed him, but from Zae—the hairs at his nape stood on end. “Let’s pair up for sparring,” he announced. “You’ll need a partner to learn the throw I want to teach you.”

Zae trampled two of her classmates to get to Mr. Cavendish. She wrapped both her arms around one of his. “I’ve got my partner.”

God help him
, Chip thought. But he only nodded and turned to his own partner, a lawyer whose frame and weight were comparable to his own.

Chip demonstrated the throw, a complicated maneuver involving the offensive partner’s foot hooking the defensive partner’s calf in such a way as to use his own weight against him to bring him to the mat. Moving slowly, Chip gently brought his partner to the mat.

Before the rest of the class could try it, the floor shook from the force of Mr. Cavendish’s body flopping to the mat. Smiling in satisfaction, Zae stood over him, straightening the jacket of her
gi
. “That was easy enough,” she said. “Wanna go again?”

“I thought these were friendlies,” Mr. Cavendish groaned. He coughed, grabbing at his back.

“That
is
friendly,” a classmate muttered. “For Zae.”

“Turnabout is fair play, Mrs. Richardson,” Chip warned. “He’ll get a chance to throw you, too.”

“He can try,” Zae mumbled.

“I played tight end for the Tigers,” Mr. Cavendish said, finally getting to his feet. He jogged in place a few times, regaining his bearings. “You caught me by surprise that time. It won’t happen again.”

“We’ve had a lot of former University of Missouri football players in this class,” Zae told him, circling him. “They tell me I’m worse than any opponent they ever met on the field.”

“You’re definitely sexier than any opponent I ever met on the field,” Mr. Cavendish said.

“Fifty push-ups after class, Mr. Cavendish,” Chip interrupted. “I won’t have you speaking to female students like that.”

“I apologize,
sensai
,” the young man said. Turning back to Zae, he winked at her. “Let’s go.”

Every student in the class was a black belt and fairly evenly matched in skill. A keen sense of animal cunning combined with Zae’s skill made her one of the most formidable combatants Chip had ever taught. Trent Cavendish, a recent college graduate currently employed at a local software firm, was athletic and accustomed to competition, but Chip still wondered if he should send someone for the first aid kit now or wait until Zae had finished with him.

Trent made his move. Cleanly, gracefully, Zae left him flat on his back using the throw Chip had taught. Trent quickly got his feet back under him and went for Zae. Her sleek ponytail whipping like a war banner, Zae countered Trent’s moves, her smile never leaving her face. And then she dropped him again.

“Damn it!” Trent hollered, slamming his fists to the mat.

“That’s fifty more, Mr. Cavendish,” Chip warned.

“I’m sorry,
sensai
,” Trent grumbled. “I’m getting my can kicked over here! She leaves no openings for me.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Zae asked innocently.

“Switch,” Chip said, tipping his head toward the lawyer.

Trent and Chip exchanged partners. Grinning wickedly, Zae paced the mat in tiny, eager circles.

“You haven’t studied at Sheng Li for very long, Mr. Cavendish,” Chip began, keeping his eyes on Zae, “but as you progress here, you’ll find that no opponent is without vulnerability. Not even Mrs. Richardson.”

“One of the things I’ve learned here, Mr. Cavendish,” Zae countered, “is that there is no such thing as vulnerability in an opponent. Even vulnerability is strength, once you learn how to use it.”

“What are they talking about?” Trent asked. “I’m so confused.”

“I don’t know,” the lawyer said. “But I think we’re about to see some good sparring.”

Zae made the first move, lunging at Chip to deliver a blow to his solar plexus. He blocked the punch, countering with a reverse kick to her upper thigh that brought her to her knees. Surprised, Zae backed off, but not for long. She flew at Chip with a series of punches and kicks that forced him to work all over the mat. If she couldn’t overwhelm him, she would tire him out.

At least that had been the plan until she ended up flat on her back with Chip pinning her to the mat. “That won’t happen again,” she told him.

“Once is never enough with you,” he replied, his mouth kissing distance from hers.

A female classmate tugged at the collar of her
gi
. “Is it hot in here, or is it me?”

Chip was thankful for the loose fit of his
gi
. His baggy trousers hid from the class what was likely only too apparent to Zae—that their tussle was close to foreplay.

Zae threw off Chip and scampered to her feet. They stalked one another, their animal instincts driving them to determine who would leave the mat the alpha dog.

“In competition, when you take down an opponent, you keep him down,” Chip said. “But in a classroom situation, you make allowances. You give your opponent the freedom to learn.” His blue eyes glimmered wickedly. “By making sure they know when they’ve made a mistake.”

Zae’s nostrils slightly flared. Chip’s presence had never been more leonine, but she was no trembling kitten fearful of a larger animal. She had always been more predator than prey, and Chip was about to learn that firsthand.

She pressed a hand to her lower back. “Ow!”

“I forgot about your back,” Chip fretted, quickly closing the distance between them.

Zae met him with a sharp crescent kick to the head that he dodged with mere centimeters to spare. She followed it with a sweep of her right leg, dropping her weight to catch him at the back of his knees. Chip displayed his agility by catching himself on one hand and executing a neat back flip that kept him on his feet.

Faster and more determined to win their battle, Zae caught him in the throat with a sharp jab more reminiscent of Shane Mosley than Bruce Lee. Chip staggered back, gasping for air.

“That’s the bell,” Zae said, pointing to the clock. “See you next week, y’all.”

Chip dismissed his students, who seemed slightly bewildered by what they’d just seen. Zae headed for the locker room, pausing for a cursory bow at the mat. Chip didn’t wait to say goodbye to the rest of his students, who exited through the front of the dojo.

“Wait a minute!” Chip stopped Zae just short of the sanctuary offered by the ladies locker room. “I want to talk to you!”

She turned. Before she could get a word out, Chip pushed her against the wall and held her in place with a stern finger in her face. “When we’re in class, I expect you to behave accordingly.”