“So? What do you think?”

Knox tore his gaze away from her—acting like a creeper much?—and focused on Katie and Blue’s conversation.

“I said I’d consider it. Deus, woman,” Blue complained. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“Because it’s a great idea.”

“What’s a great idea?” Fee asked her.

“Running a pro-bono self-defense clinic on a Saturday at the North Seventh Girls Club.”

“That’s in a rough part of town,” Knox said.

“I know. Which is all the more reason these girls need a self-defense class.”

“My guys are putting in extra training hours on Saturday, Katie. I can’t spare an instructor,” Blue said.

“Ditto for us,” Knox said. “I can’t pull teachers away from the Saturday students.”

Shiori touched Katie’s hand when she was busy stirring her drink. “How many instructors would you need?”

“I thought I’d limit the class to fifty. That way four instructors would be enough. It’d just be basics.”

“If you set it up, I’ll do it,” Shiori offered.

“Really? Thank you!”

Knox hid his surprise that Shiori had volunteered.

“I’m in too,” Fee said. “Tasha isn’t working with the MMA guys, so she could be the third instructor. I know Molly isn’t a teacher, but she’s passed the class and gone on to take more classes. It’d be good for the girls to hear from a woman who’s survived an attack.”

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Everyone’s gaze snapped to Deacon.

“Why not?” Katie demanded.

“Because Molly was traumatized, and she doesn’t need to relive that shit in front of a bunch of people she doesn’t know. Leave her out of this.”

“If Molly were here, she’d remind you that you’re not the boss of her,” Shiori said with a sniff.

Katie smirked. “Yeah, what she said. And it won’t hurt to ask her, at any rate.”

Deacon’s gaze winged between Shiori and Katie. “Since when do you two trust-fund babies have Saturdays open to help the less fortunate? Ain’t that primo shopping time at Saks?”

Christ, Deacon, do you have any fucking tact?

“Maybe the next time I’m there I’ll take you on as a charity case and buy you some goddamn manners,” Katie snapped.

Fee put her hand over Deacon’s mouth when he started to retort. “We all wonder why you don’t talk much, and when you do . . . aye yi, Yondan. Be nice or I won’t do that quick-step thing with you.”

The only person paying attention to their interaction was Gil. Katie and Blue were back in a heated discussion. And Shiori was . . . looking straight at him.

“Still mad at me for chasing off weasel dick from the bar?”

“Maybe.”

Knox grinned. “I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“That’s not in the cards for you . . . oh, ever, pervert.”

“You’re the perverted one, since I was talking about dancing.” He leaned forward. “Come on. Dance with me.”

“Why are you being so insistent about this?”

Because I’d like to know what it’s like holding your body against mine when we’re not trying to choke each other out. “Because it’s a rite of passage that you missed—at least as part of your American heritage. What kind of American would I be if I didn’t fill that gap?”

She rolled her eyes—but she didn’t say no.

Knox took that as a yes.

Immediately he was on his feet, moving in behind her.

Gil said, “Just a heads-up, Shiori. Dancing is nothing like grappling. But if he grabs your ass, I expect to see a wicked hip throw from you.”

Everyone laughed. So Knox didn’t take her hand until they were out of heckling range.

Shiori looked at him when they stopped in the middle of the dance floor.

He put her hands on his shoulders and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling their bodies close.

She tried to hold herself stiffly away from him. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Relax. Move with me. Let your body rest against mine.”

“This feels unnatural.”

“You’re overthinking it. Close your eyes.”

She nestled her cheek against his chest and closed the distance between their lower halves.

The slow, bluesy music was the perfect tempo to sway together.