Page 97 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“What are you doing, plum?” he asked under his breath. She couldn’t be warming up to throw her trainers at him, could she? Better shoes than vibrators, sure, but he’d rather not have anything chucked at him—again.
“I’m connecting to Rickety Rock’s energy. There’s something special about this place. Something is different. I can feel it,” she whispered back—straight-faced.
Bollocks! Maybe it would be better if she threw her shoes at him.
He glanced at Sebastian and reared back.
What the bloody hell was going on?
The boy untied his trainers and kicked them to the side of the porch, joining his nanny in the crazy-barefoot-in-the-mountains bit.
“Don’t worry, Dad. Libby and I have done this before. We’re good at connecting to the earth.”
He nodded and gave the lad a weak grin. Bloody perfect. Not only would he have an off-her-rocker spiritual advisor. The press would also report that his son was a few slices short of a loaf.
“It’s time for punchy yoga!” Sebastian announced.
Punchy yoga? What the hell was that?
Several reporters chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm while scribbling in pads and tapping away on mobiles and laptops. Whatever this punchy business was, it was about to go viral.
“Miss Lamb, what is punchy yoga?” a tall woman asked, jotting furiously on a pad of paper.
And thank you, madam reporter! That was his question, too.
Libby and Sebastian walked down the steps, and the press parted, making way for the pair like Moses parting the Red Sea.
“I’d like everyone to set down your phones, notepads, and cameras,” Libby said as she and Sebastian stood with their hands pressed in a prayer position.
“We’re the media, ma’am. We can’t do that,” a man in the back replied.
Libby smiled at the guy. “You can. I give you permission.” She gestured to the rock stack on the path leading toward the other structures. “Those stones are a sign that you’re on the right path. You are exactly where you’re supposed to be, doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. So again, let me reassure everyone here. You can disconnect from your responsibilities for the next few minutes.”
The reporter cocked his head to the side. Raz waited for the guy to start laughing or huff a haughty breath, but that’s not what happened. Miraculously, the reporter shoved his mobile into his messenger bag and set it on the ground. Like dominoes falling, Libby and Sebastian stood quietly as every member of the media abandoned their pads, cameras, and devices.
Akin to a celestial being, who happened to be barefoot and clad in a crow scarf, Libby walked through the swarm of people frozen in place, their attention trained on her. “Pun-chi yoga is and isn’t what it sounds like.”
Oh, sweet Jesus!
“Raz, do you know what she’s talking about?” Briggs asked in a frantic hushed tone, his million-dollar smile faltering.
He shook his head. He didn’t answer. He wasn’t trying to be a dick, but he couldn’t speak. He could only concentrate on the mesmerizing woman gliding past hardened sports journalists.
“Thepunpart is short for punch,” Libby explained. “But the second syllable is spelledc-h-i.Chi.”
Chi.
She’d called him a chi thief or a chi scrambler. He honestly couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he’d screwed up her chi. But nothing appeared off-kilter with her now.
Libby raised her hands as if she were holding two invisible orbs. “Chi is our life force, the energy that flows through you and everything around you. Chi connects our minds and our bodies, and it’s where we start with Pun-chi yoga. Observe.” She pressed the sole of her foot into her upper thigh. “This is tree pose. You try it.”
Raz surveyed the group and could barely believe they were following along. Big guys teetering. Little guys wobbling. Men and women collectively working to stay upright.
“If you can’t get your foot up that high, you can do it like this,” Sebastian instructed as the lad pressed his foot to the side of his calf, doing a modified version of Libby’s stance.
“Rest your gaze on something in the distance. Doing this will help you maintain balance,” Libby instructed.
Raz stared ahead at the two forms directly in front of him.
