Chapter Sixteen

Red

“So, Red, do you want me to teach you some techniques?”

I resisted frowning at Doc. I knew he meant well. We’d been in the living area, with the door shut, talking for the last hour. He was right. It helped to just talk about everything. How weak it made me feel to be paralyzed by fear. Yes, being here helped me, but as was proven this morning, it didn’t take much to get me freaking out.

Doc had insisted I talk without an audience and that included my mate. Gordon had given in to Doc’s gentle nudging to get him out the door so I could speak freely. Not that anyone ever had alone time with Tim, who was for sure trying to listen in. He was the most persistent rhubarb in town for earwigging on our thoughts. Yet, I’d done my best to voice my concerns rather than project them to Tim and Gordon, or anyone else who thought they’d like to know what went on in my head.

“I do the breathing techniques. I also try tensing and releasing my muscles, thinking about them in groups. Gordon helps to calm me.” I kept it to myself how Gordon’s tongue in my ass could get my brain to switch right off. Doc definitely didn’t need to know that. It could be my go to?

I stifled a chuckle when I let that slip to Gordon, who moaned and tsked but kept his thoughts to himself.

“What about standing and dancing, shaking your arms for a minute or two?”

“Dancing?” Was he for real? I was anxious enough without getting caught looking crazy, dancing about like a bee was attacking me. “I’m not sure dancing is going to help. I’m not like Ricky, I don’t have a fluid move in me. You see, I’m more of a chair dancer. You know. Head bobbing and toe tapping.”

Doc’s lips quivered in amusement as he got up. “I don’t mean disco dancing. We’ll leave that to Tim or Ricky.” He held out his hand. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

I got up reluctantly, my sneakers dragging over the rug as I shuffled over to stand next to him.

“Your system, when in fight-or-flight mode, produces extra cortisol and heightens everything inside your body, causing the anxiety you feel.” He lifted his arms and moved them in loose motions, then started to dance about. “By giving your body the opportunity to release the pent-up emotions through movement, it enables your system to regulate itself. The body is an amazing thing.” He smiled, uncaring just how ridiculous he looked right then. “Give it a go. What harm can it do?”

None, I suppose. I already looked silly with my overreactions. I took a breath and swung out my arms, shut my eyes and hummed a song of Tim’s I liked, though I would never openly confess that to him. He’d never let me forget it.

“That’s it, shake it off.”

Getting into it, I shook my ass and bobbed my head, continuing to flap my arms around. Minutes later, a little sweaty and grinning, I stared wide eyed at Doc.

“Wow.” I felt… good.

“We might look like a daft potato and rhubarb, but who cares when it makes you feel good?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Feeling calmer versus looking ridiculous, there was no competition!

When the sound of the doorbell came a moment later, did I freak out? I kid you not, I glanced at the door and took a deep, cleansing breath. I was a dancing rhubarb miracle.

I didn’t even flinch when the door burst open and Gordon charged in, demanding, “What happened? Your brain glitched!”

Gordon glared at Doc as he came and tugged me into his side. A space made just for me.

“I am a disco dancing diva after all,” I declared, giggling. “And it makes my brain behave.” I nodded at Doc. “Thank you.”

“It just needs to be something you do daily to start your day and maybe when you feel the anxiety creeping up on you. Pay attention to your body and it will tell you when you need to dance it off.”

“Dance it off?” Gordon glanced between us. “Dance what off?”

Has he done some weird potato mojo on you?

“It’s not a weird potato mojo. I’ll explain later.” I glanced at the open door, hearing an excited squeal and an alarmed bleat. “Who was at the door?”

Gordon didn’t lose the adorable wrinkle at the top of his nose. “Are you changing the topic?” We’ll get back to this! “It’s Tartie. Ricky rang him and he was home so he said he’d come by.”

“Why is Randy bleating?”

“Who knows, maybe he’s excited to get sheared. I think we shouldn’t worry about that right now. I’ve finished our patch, and I think it’s time I got my goat on with your rhubarb, don’t you?”

My thoughts fled at the giddiness I felt coming from him.

“And I think my work is done here,” Doc muttered, exiting the door fast enough to be a blur.

I squeezed Gordon’s side, giving him what I hoped was a sexy grin. “I’ve limbered up.” I wiggled my ass. “So I’m ready for whatever you got!”