“That’s not physics,” I said. “That’s ignorance.”
“Show me,” he said.
“What?”
“Jujitsu me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I sighed. “You want me to take you down? Right now?”
“I mean, not really. But I do think I’d sleep easier if I knew for a fact that you could.”
“You’re saying you want me to hurt you? For real? Because if I do what you’re suggesting, I’ll definitely knock the wind out of you—and possibly dislocate your shoulder, too.”
This was a genuinely bad idea.
But I guess Jack did want me to hurt him, because he grabbed my hand and dragged me out his back door, across the patio, to a patch of grass by the pool. “Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” I said, as he tugged me behind him.
“See how easy it is for me to manhandle you, though?” he called back.
And I guess that’s when I gave in. I was never a big fan of being underestimated. Especially by a guy who thought I was the cleaning lady.
He wanted me to hurt him?
Fine. I’d hurt him.
When we reached the grass, he let go of my hand and jogged off a little further. Then he U-turned and came back at me, launching into a run.
I guess we were doing this.
Sigh.
By this point, there was no decision to make. Once a six-foot-three guy starts running straight for you—there are no decisions left. You just do what you’re trained to do.
As soon as he reached me, I grabbed his left wrist with both hands, yanked it down, and rammed my hips into his. The trick here is to get a rolling motion. You’re pulling his arm and shoulders down while you’re shoving his lower half up—and then forcing a roll over the pommel of your butt.
It sounds more complex than it is.
To sum up: You tuck your head, and over he goes.
That’s physics.
In less than a second, he was flat on his back.
Moaning.
“You asked for it, buddy,” I said.
As I stared down at him, his eyes found mine. And then, for the first time since I’d been there, he smiled. A big admiration-saturated smile. “Oh God, that hurts,” he said.
“I told you,” I said.
He cradled an arm around his midsection, panting. Or wait—was he laughing? “You’re such a tough guy!”
“I’m really not.”
“You’re awesome,” he said.
“That was never in question.”
Next, he flattened out and spread his arms wide, staring up at the sky. “Thank you, Hannah Brooks! Thank you!”
Why on earth was he thanking me?
Then he shouted at the clouds. “You’re hired!”
But I refused to be amazed with him about something I’d done a thousand times. It wasn’t amazing. It was just training. “I was already hired,” I said.
“You’re hired again! You’re double hired! You’re hired with great fanfare!”
I shook my head and walked back inside to get him some ice.
* * *
WHEN HE MADE it to the kitchen minutes later, still panting, still aglow with appreciation, he looked, shall we say, like he’d just learned a vital life lesson.
I secured an ice pack to his shoulder with tied-together dish towels, refusing to be flustered, now, in a slower moment, by the proximity of his body to mine.
“Your shoulder’s really going to hurt for a few days,” I said.
“Worth it,” he said.
“Take some ibuprofen before bed.”
“Okay, doc.”
“And next time I tell you I’m good at something,” I said, “don’t make me hurt you to prove it.”
“Roger that.”
I gathered up my stuff and then turned to say goodbye, clutching my folder of paperwork to my chest like I had before—but feeling like a whole new version of the girl who’d walked in here.
Nothing like flipping a man on his back to bolster your self-esteem.
Recommend.
“So it looks like we start in earnest tomorrow,” I said, checking the tentative schedule Glenn had given me. “You want to drive out to your parents’ place in the morning, right?”
Jack nodded.
“We’ve got a team assessing the route right now,” I said. “This is much more rushed than our normal prep time, but we’re just going to fake it till we make it.”
Jack was looking down. He didn’t answer.
“We can bring a remote team with us tomorrow, and they can assess the ranch property while we’re out there—get some cameras installed, evaluate the layout.” That felt like a good plan.