The Perfect Match (Blue Heron #2)(75)

Honor glanced at the teenagers, who waited expectantly. “Go for it,” Abby said.

“Yes, honey, do it,” Goggy said. “I want to see this.”

Hesitantly, she climbed the steps. “How do I get in here?” she murmured to Tom, who held the ropes for her. It looked very complicated.

“Just scoot in.”

“Right.” She started with one foot, then the other, holding her skirt down. Tripped (of course), only to have Tom grab her arm.

“There you are.” A slight smile flashed across his face.

“Hey, Honor! Look at you!”

Oh, fungus. A damning flush started prickling across her chest. “Hi, Brogan.”

Her former...person...walked over, gym bag slung over his shoulder, the easy grace of a natural athlete evident. “And Tom, isn’t it?” Brogan asked. “The lucky guy! We’ve met before. At Hugo’s?”

“Of course,” Tom said, reaching over the ropes to shake his hand. “Nice to see you again. Honor and I are just demonstrating a move for the kids.”

“Fantastic. I’m just in time.” Brogan set his bag down and folded his arms, winking at her.

After the little showdown in the cask room with Dana, Brogan had sent Honor an email, full of hearty congratulations and a few possible dates for dinner. Unsurprisingly, Honor hadn’t had any free time. Not that she’d looked. But now, seeing Brogan’s smiling face, she couldn’t help missing him. As a friend.

Yes. For the first time, his presence didn’t make her quiver. She smiled back at him, relieved.

“You ready, darling?” Tom asked.

She jerked her eyes to his face. His face was grim. “Ready for what?”

“To demonstrate a punch.”

“Not really,” she said. “Can someone else do this?”

“You’ll be brilliant. Kiddies, an uppercut starts here,” he said, holding his hands next to his temple. “You don’t scoop up so much as bend your knees and turn, like so—” he swiveled, bringing his shoulder down “—and hit with your whole body.” He demonstrated, touching her chin with his fist, his eyes on the assembled kids. “Bend your knees, turn so that it’s not just your arm doing the work, it’s the entire body, and extend that fist with the whole of you right behind it.” He went through the move again, slow motion. “Your turn, Honor.”

What looked like a fluid, easy motion was a lot harder when Honor tried it. It was hard not to feel self-conscious and awkward while everyone, including two-thirds of all the men she’d slept with, were watching. If there was anything less sexy than trying to channel Muhammad Ali while wearing a skirt and not-too-nunnish shoes, she didn’t know what it was.

“That’s it,” Tom said. “Practice a bit, Honor. Kids, you, as well.” He left her in the corner, bobbing like an idiot, and walked over to the other side of the ring to watch the kids’ form. “Hands up, don’t forget, you don’t want to leave yourself open. Mrs. Holland—Elizabeth, rather—don’t just stand there! Get moving, darling.” Goggy giggled and cooed and put her hands up and began punching the air quite vigorously. Good Lord.

“This punch is brilliant if you’re in close quarters,” Tom continued, “because it’s tight and brutal.” He demonstrated the move again. “So if someone’s got you against a wall or whatnot, this is your punch, and it’s a knockout if you do it right. That’s it, Molly, you’ve got it. Good job, Charlie. A little more pivot, Abby. Brilliant.”

He had a way with kids, that was certain. And they seemed to like him, too. Even Charlie looked a little more cheerful than usual, which wasn’t saying a lot, but still. The boy was supposed to come for dinner tonight. Hopefully, he’d speak.

“Looking good, On,” Brogan said, grinning up at her. She rolled her eyes. “No, really. You remind me of Iron Mike.”

“Thank you. He and I are very close.”

“He’s a good guy. I photographed him a few years ago out in Vegas.” He paused. “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Busy. You know. Just...wedding stuff.”

“I know. Dana’s gone crazy with it. And, uh, we’re kind of in a rush now.” His expression was sheepish. “Want to get it done before the baby.”

“Right.” Tom was showing Helena how to turn her arm, and Helena was eating it up.

“Anyway. It’s good to see you.”

“You, too. Um, do you box?” she asked, rather than have to stand here alone, punching air.

“A little. Here and there. You know me.”

Yes. He loved all things athletic, from rock climbing to rowing to football to sailing. Rather tiring to a person whose idea of outdoor activity was taking her book outside to read.

“All right, Honor?” Tom said, walking to her corner.

“For what?” she asked.

“To hit me, darling.” The kids laughed. Brogan, too.

“Oh, uh, no. No, thanks. I don’t want to hit you.”

He towed back to the center of the ring. “Sorry,” he said in a low voice. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your chat with Brandon.”

“Brogan.”

“Right.” His eyes were flat and neutral.