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ily, too. All those weddings and babies.”
“There is that,” she agreed, sitting back on the couch while he finished eating. “Not that I’m complaining. Family-wise, it’s been a great year. It’ll be nice when I can babysit again.”
Which wouldn’t be until her stalker was caught. A brief wish that it didn’t happen too soon brought a huge wave of guilt. Because now that he’d crossed that line, selfishness was beginning to creep in. He ate his last bite and rose to take his plate to the kitchen.
Shelby twisted around and draped her elbow over the back of the couch. “How long will it take you to teach me?”
“Depends on how fast you pick it up.” He shrugged while rinsing his dish. “Could be a couple of nights, or a couple of weeks. The most important thing will be practicing so the moves become automatic if you need them.”
“And you really think I can learn it?”
“I saw you give a dog a C-section today. I know you can learn to kick some ass.”
He looked up to see her smile as she watched him, but the moment their gazes met, she dropped her attention to where she was tracing the seam of the couch with her thumbnail.
“So…um…if this guy is caught before we’re done, will you keep teaching me?”
“Of course.” The reply was automatic, but no less sincere. And the relief in the return of her smile made his pulse skip in a way that had him equally dreading and anticipating the next hour. He walked past the couch toward the hall. “Let’s go.”
She popped up to follow him. “Don’t you need to let your food settle?”
“I’m used to eating and getting right back to physical work.”
“Because of the military?”
“Right.” He picked up the training suit he’d bought with the mats. “But enough talk. Let’s get to it.”
Her head tilted as she watched him gear up in all the pads. A smile tugged at her mouth. “You need all that for little ‘ole me?”
He flashed back to the stairwell incident at the hospital. “Considering how well-acquainted I am with your knee—yep.”
Her smirk became a grimace. “I apologized for that.”
“Though you didn’t have to. You did good. I got this because I don’t want you to pull your punches. You need to practice as if it’s the real deal, and that means hitting me as hard as you can.”
A small frown furrowed her brow.
He held the padded helmet against his hip. “First lesson, though, is to use your voice. If you’re attacked, yell as loud as you can to intimidate your attacker and draw attention if anyone is nearby. You yell, and you keep yelling until you’re safe.”
She nodded.
“Next, always go for the four most vulnerable areas. Eyes, nose, throat, and—”
“Groin?” she finished with another smirk.
He gave her a mock glare. “You didn’t have to apologize, but that doesn’t mean you get to laugh at my pain.”
“Sorry.” She straightened, making a show of wiping the humor from her expression.
Which had him fighting a smile when he needed them both to take this seriously.
“We’re going to start with the hammer strike. When you’re alone, walking to or from your vehicle, have your keys ready in your hand, and strike at your attacker like swinging a hammer.” He demonstrated the stance and motion, then put on the helmet to advance on her. “For right now, just make a fist and hit me.”
Shelby got in a tentative stance and when he was close enough, reached out to tap her fist against his helmet.
“What was that?” he demanded. “Where’s your voice?”
She arched her brows. “In here?”
