Resisting Roots (Lotus House Book 1) Read Free Page B

paired with long pants. I was eyeballing their asses when my name was called.
    “Can I help you, sir?” a fiery redhead with big blue eyes asked. Her skin was pale and seemed to glow against the teal-blue tank that had the center’s logo on the front. A set of pert breasts bounced as she moved around the table, helping regulars while waiting for me to respond.
    “Yeah. I’m Trent Fox, and I believe I’m scheduled for a class that starts soon.”
    The redhead typed a few things into a computer and nodded. “Yep, you’re set for a three month unlimited membership.”
    With efficiency and speed, she pulled out a card shaped like a flower. No shit. A flower. On the back was a bar code. She ran it in front of the scanner that matched the ones I saw patrons using on another set of doors that must have led deeper into the building.
    “You’ll use this card by just waving the bar code against the scanner right there.” She pointed to the other set of doors. “It will get you into the building during normal business hours. Since you have unlimited access, you don’t have to check in. In three months, you can renew again or end your membership.” She lowered her voice, forcing me to lean closer to hear her. It also gave me a great view of her sweet rack. “We’re not pushy around here, so if you decide yoga isn’t your thing, we won’t hunt you down.”
    I smiled my panty-melting grin. “Good to know. Will you be teaching the class?”
    Her cheeks pinked up in a lovely blush. The color looked good on her. She shook her head. “Nope. There are two classes going right now. A vinyasa flow with Mila that’s already in session, and hatha yoga, which is designed more for beginners and intermediate yogis. It’s taught by Genevieve Harper every morning at nine.”
    “Works for me. And your name, sweetheart?”
    “I’m Luna Marigold, the daughter of one of the owners.”
    Of course she was. “Look forward to seeing you around.” I tapped the counter and winked.
    She blushed a fine crimson. “You, too, Mr. Fox. Thanks for joining Lotus House. Namaste .”
    Using my new flower-shaped plastic key card, I entered the belly of the converted warehouse. Directly in front of me was a long hallway. To the right, two signs said Yoginis Sanctuary and Yogi Sanctuary . Based on the last letter, I figured the left was the men’s locker room, and the right was the women’s. I headed down the center hallway. The walls were painted in an ongoing mural of a meadow. As I made my way to the end of the hall where an open door was, the tall grass in the image seemed to sway along, moving with me. I knew it wasn’t possible, but it was so lifelike that it tricked the eyes. Damn good artist, indeed.
    To the left was a door through which I could hear the Beatles blasting. Odd, as this was a yoga studio. Next to the door was an indoor window so that patrons in the hall could see the class in session. At least thirty people had their hands and feet on their own mat, asses in the air. Together they were a sea of triangle shapes, and then as if choreographed, they all popped a leg high into the sky. Some were a little shakier than others, and some seemed to have scissor legs that naturally separated at the hip.
    A Hispanic woman with a hot little body and curly hair bouncing along her shoulders called out something that I swore was, “flip your dog.” And the entire room dropped the leg they held up, only not down. No, they twisted their entire bodies so that their fronts were now facing the ceiling, the leg that had been up was on the ground facing the other direction, and an arm was in the air.
    “Holy shit.” I made a mental note never to take whatever they called vinyasa flow .
    As the instructor clapped, the entire room twisted back around so the single leg was back in the air and everyone was in a triangle shape again. If this is yoga, I’m screwed.
    Afraid to see any more, I took a calming breath, shifted my head, and glanced at