One moment he was frozen. The next he was beside her, revolving his hips and pumping his arms as hard as she was. A shocked laugh burst past her lips. The women around them hooted and clapped. When it was time to hop forward he didn’t hesitate, continuing the rotation of his hips. He hopped back in sync with everyone, shifting to the left, shifting to the right, making many of the other women in the class look novice in comparison. Had he been watching her…or watching the steps?
Maybe she should feel slightly offended at the idea that he hadn’t actually been watching her, but she didn’t. Mac Hannon was dancing. Unlike before, when everything had been stiff and awkward, his body went with the hip-hop. He got down into the movements as his shoulders circled along with his pelvis. He got low into the lunge forward during the cha-cha. And then the pelvis thrust. Ohmygod. Gayle froze and covered her mouth with her hand. Now that was just sinful.
And what did Mac do?
He winked. The man flipping winked. Gayle couldn’t stop a grin, and as the class started the last rotation facing the front of the class again, she joined him. She glanced over at him and his dimple creased his cheek. He looked so in the moment. Just free and not a care in the world, and it was the most breathtaking thing she’d ever seen.
The song ended, and she couldn’t fight the disappointment. She could’ve wobbled with Mac all day. As the song transitioned to a slower one, the class did the cooldown, and then it was over.
She wiped the sweat off her face and said, “I didn’t know you knew how to wobble.”
“I didn’t.”
So, he’d just been watching her to learn the steps. Bummer. “You picked that up pretty quickly.”
He shrugged slightly, his lips curving downward. “Weren’t a lot of moves to learn. I used to do a lot of those types of dances. I can do Cotton-eyed Joe, Tush Push, and the Cupid Shuffle.”
“Seriously?”
“And that surprises you, why?”
A brow shot up. “And you have to ask that question, why?”
He smiled, but there was a trace of tightness to it. “It’s been a few years.”
Ah. So this was a before thing. Sadly, she had a couple of those herself. The before-Gayle would’ve never gotten so down and dirty with the song. The after-Gayle believed in living in the moment. Looked like Mac had taken the completely opposite approach, but maybe he was ready to start doing some living again.
“Well, you sure showed us women how it’s done.” She shoulder bumped him. “So…Zumba, it’s pretty freaking cool, right?”
His smile stretched a bit more and he shook his head as he softly chuckled. “I’ll admit it. I had fun. Other than the wobble, it’s harder than it looks, that’s for sure. You make it look simple.”
She cast him a sly glance. Maybe there had been a little watching her in there as well. “Checking out my moves. were you, handsome?”
“Uh…”
“It’s okay. I wanted you to.”
He swallowed and cleared his throat. “Um.” He ran a hand over his head. “So what other types of things do you do to work out?”
“Running and Zumba are really it.”
“Oh, really?”
The way he drew out the two words in a slow, challenging drawl caught her attention. She stopped, faced him, and put both hands on her hips. “Yes, really, but I’m always up for something new. What do you want to dish out?”
He mimicked her stance as amusement softened his face. “Just wanting to return the favor. Lance’s barn. Tomorrow. Eleven o’clock.”
She bit back a smile at having the invitation issued in the same blunt manner she had given him her dinner invite. “You’re on.”
The gloves felt heavy on her hands as she hit the bag in front of her. What was her reward for taking Mac to do something fun yesterday?
Torture.
Seriously, the man was trying to torture her. What was supposed to be thirty easy seconds of hitting the bag felt like a damn eternity. The searing pain started in her knuckles, traveled up her arms, and settled in her shoulder blades until the entire length of her limbs and back were screaming in pure agony.
Since they’d returned to Lance’s barn thirty minutes ago, Mac had been mean like this. First making her “warm up” by jumping rope. She hadn’t jumped rope since she was a kid, but Mac had made it look so damn simple, like he and that stupid rope were one, she’d figured it would be like riding a bike. Yeah-freaking-right.
Seconds after she’d started, her calves had ignited into a fiery storm that had her wanting to beg for a time-out. Though breaks proved unnecessary, since she’d had plenty of those while untangling herself from the blasted rope every fifteen seconds. Mac hadn’t hidden his enjoyment at her ineptitude, either, which had earned him a thorough sticking out of her tongue. His laughter had boomed through the room, making the torture worth it—then.
Not so much later, which had included way too many burpees—no one in the history of ever should have to do these evil things—drop squats—what was wrong with regular squats?—then he’d strapped some thingamajig around her waist that was attached to a flipping huge-ass weight, and made her run across the barn—these men were nuts—before shuffling her onto the bag.
“Done.” He clicked a timer he held in his hand.
She groaned and dropped her arms. “You’re a complete ass, you know that?”