Her last thought as she fell asleep was of the initials.
What did the B stand for in BODS?
Next meeting of the Good Grief Club, she’d ask Leslie.
Dillon lay awake well into the night, thinking about Ariana, the kiss and the conundrum of the BODS mistake in matching them.
They weren’t alike in many ways. But he liked the way she made him feel calm and excited in the same breath. She wasn’t anything like the women he’d dated in the past. But maybe that was a good thing. He’d never gone past a single date with most of them, finding himself bored after the first fifteen minutes.
Ariana wasn’t experienced at anything to do with ranching. But that could be taught. Maybe. If not…so what? Why would she ever need to be a rancher?
Dillon and his brothers, along with Emma and Coop, could handle all the work on the ranch. If not, they could hire ranch hands. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it. Each of them had amassed their own fortunes either through day trading stocks or building their own businesses to the point they had accumulated significant wealth.
Why did his brothers think it was a requirement for any woman Dillon dated to be proficient at basic ranching tasks, like riding horses or mucking stalls?
Dillon’s lips quirked.
Because they’d been pretty hard on Coop when he’d been matched with Emma. They’d put him through a pretty rigorous test of his worth on the ranch by inviting him to help them haul hay.
What they hadn’t known was that Coop had spent summers between semesters at college hauling hay for pay. Not only did he know his way around a ranch, he loved horses and sports. He’d fit right in with the Jacobs brothers like one of their own.
At first, Emma had been irritated by how easily he’d assimilated into the family. She’d wanted to date and dump her match. Only, she’d ended up falling in love with the billionaire.
And they were perfect for each other. Unlike Dillon and Ariana, Emma and Coop had a lot in common. They knew ranching. Liked sports and could ride horses.
Did that mean any relationship Dillon and Ariana would have could be doomed to failure from the start?
Dillon hoped not. He enjoyed talking with her. And helping her up into his truck. He liked how tiny her waist was and the sweet swell of her hips. He liked the fiery red of her hair and the lush hazel color of her eyes.
And he liked kissing her.
Colton had accused him of loving her.
No. That couldn’t be. They hadn’t known each other long enough.
Thus, the need to see her again. He knew there was something between them, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was or how long it would last. Only time would tell.
He set his watch to wake him up by five the next morning so that he could get up, go for a run to burn off energy, and then shower and be ready to meet her at her studio with a dozen other women.
He’d rather be alone with Ariana. At least in her class, he’d get to see her in her element and really get to know what she did best. She wouldn’t have a following if she wasn’t good at what she did.
Dillon fell asleep, only to be wakened what felt like a few minutes later when his alarm went off.
He rolled out of bed, slipped on his shorts and running shoes and went out into the early morning Austin downtown district. He jogged for three miles, moving through the streets dodging delivery vans and feeling the heartbeat of the beautiful city for what felt like the first time in a long time.
When he returned to his condo, he drank coffee and let his body cool before ducking into the shower. With thirty minutes to spare, he headed to the west side of Austin to Ariana’s Zen studio.
Before he’d met Ariana, if anyone would’ve said he’d be going to a yoga class, he would’ve told them they were high on something. Yet, here he was pulling up to her studio along with the dozen women who paid her to lead the class. Hell, if he liked the effects of the exercises, he might just join them every Sunday. Sunday happened to be the only day he could reasonably attend on a regular basis.
He could imagine his brothers’ reactions to his announcement that he’d be attending yoga classes on Sundays. Dillon didn’t care. His brothers had to have something to pick on him about. But when shit hit the fan, they would always have his back—but not just his brothers. Emma was even more of a force to be reckoned with when someone threatened her family or friends.
Dillon held the door for all the gray-haired women, finally entering after the last one went inside. They all looked at him and smiled as they passed him going through the door.
One winked, said “Hubba Hubba” and pinched his chest. “Ooo…those are real,” she murmured, and then walked away giggling.
He just smiled politely at the woman and refrained from engaging. He wasn’t there for them. Dillon had come to see…
Ariana stood in front of the class, dressed in a black form-fitting tank top and yoga pants. Her feet were bare, and her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, high on the crown of her head.
She smiled at him then turned her attention to the ladies in the class.
Dillon took a mat from the stack in the corner, like the ladies did, but chose to position his at the very back of the room.
For the next hour, Ariana led them from one pose to another, holding the poses for what felt like an excruciating time before releasing them.
The older women in front of him tried on occasion to help him get the poses right, but he shook his head, pressed his finger to his lips and pointed to the
