Graceful strength.
Poppy had a graceful strength. I’d thought the same all those years ago. I’d never seen a person so devastated, yet collected. She hadn’t screamed or cried or lashed out. She’d just . . . kept it together. In all my time with the Bozeman Police Department, I’d never met anyone—cop or civilian—who had handled a trauma like she had.
Poppy hadn’t noticed me yet so I took my opening and slid into the empty wall space at her side. I leaned down and spoke softly. “Hi.”
Her face whipped to mine, then she swallowed and blinked. While I’d been in the dressing room, she had apparently steeled herself for our next encounter. “Hello.”
Hello. Even her voice affected me. Five years ago, the words she’d spoken had all been full of pain. But now? Her voice was so clear. There was nothing soft or timid about it. Nothing jaded or raspy. It was the purest voice I’d ever heard.
Nonchalantly wiping the sweat from my palm, I held out my hand. “I’m Cole Goodman.”
“Poppy Maysen.”
I nodded. “I remember.”
Poppy’s eyes darted to my hand still outstretched between us and back up to my face. Then, slowly, her delicate fingers fit themselves into mine. The minute her soft skin brushed my calloused palm, a zing of electricity traveled up my arm.
While I froze, Poppy’s breath hitched.
We stared at each other, still holding hands, and probably looking like crazy people to the other students standing around, but I didn’t care. Not when Poppy’s hand was still in mine and she hadn’t made a move to take it back.
“Cole. Got a sec?” Robert called out from his office.
“Yeah.” I kept Poppy’s hand for another second before letting it go and walking to the office. I resented every step away from her side.
Robert, my instructor and the owner of the dojo, was sitting at his desk with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on his nose as he flipped through a stack of messages. His hair had started to thin last year so he’d shocked us all this week by coming to the dojo with a freshly shaven scalp. I’d been taking karate from Robert for nearly two decades, ever since I’d been in high school, and his new look was still throwing me off.
“What’s up?” I took the chair in front of his desk.
“Can you take that new gal tonight? She called to try the intro class but I kind of spaced it. I’d teach her but I need to spend some time working with the brown belts tonight to see who might be ready to advance.”
“You got it.” I hoped it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable for her because I wanted some extra time with Poppy, a chance to learn what she’d been up to in the last five years. To see how she’d recovered from that night. Maybe figure out why I’d reacted so strongly to her after only thirty seconds.
“How’s work?” Robert asked, taking my thoughts away from Poppy.
“Busy. We kicked off the new drug task force today.”
“Good. It’s about time.”
Overdue, really. As a former cop, Robert knew the drug problem in the area was becoming unmanageable. He’d retired from the county sheriff’s department years ago, making karate his full-time job, but the drug trade had been escalating even when he’d been on the force.
“Did that idiot chief of police at least put you in charge of the task force?”
I grinned. “He did.”
Robert grinned back. “Maybe your dad’s not so stupid after all.”
I chuckled. Robert and Dad never missed a chance to jest with one another, even if the other wasn’t in the room. Their friendship was the reason I’d started karate at the age of seven—Dad liked to bring me along when he met up with Robert to practice.
“Robert Sensei? Can I—” Olivia came into the office from the lobby but stopped short. “Oh, um, hey, Cole Sensei.” She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and studied the floor, trying to hide her red cheeks.
“Whatcha need, Olivia?” Robert asked.
“I’m, uh . . .” She fidgeted for a moment, looking between the floor and the door. When her eyes came back to mine, she spun around and left.
“Jeez,” Robert muttered. “Not another one.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, it’s not my fault.”
I couldn’t help that Olivia had developed a bit of a crush on me this past year. Her and her seventeen-year-old friends. Not only was it fucking weird—I’d taught some of them since they were little kids—it was pissing Robert off because they’d all huddle in the back of the dojo and giggle.
“You could help me out here.” Robert stood from his chair.
“How? Stop coming here?” I couldn’t help the face I was born with and I damn sure wasn’t going to let my body go just because of some twitterpated teenagers. “I basically ignore them already. Do you want me to be a dick to them and scar them for life?”
“No,” he muttered. “At least bring Aly in every once in a while so these girls can see you’re taken.”
Not happening.
Now wasn’t the time to give Robert an update, but Aly wouldn’t be at the dojo anytime soon, at least not on my arm.
I stood and followed Robert back into the waiting area. He kept walking into the dojo, bowing in the doorway before he entered, but I stopped in front of Poppy. “We’re going to get started.”
She nodded and forced a nervous smile. “Sounds good.”
“You’ll be with me tonight.”
Her eyes got a bit wider. “Okay.”
Was she scared to be around me or just anxious about the class? Probably both, but I didn’t want to make her even more uncomfortable, so I jumped right into teacher mode. “We bow before we enter or leave the dojo.”
“Got it.” She nodded and pushed off the wall.
I took the lead, demonstrating the proper technique before stepping inside and onto the mats. Poppy followed, maintaining a three-foot distance between us as she took in the space.
“You’ll
