Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) (14 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Nick stared at Mia, his face gray. He’d known it was going to be bad, but he hadn’t expected
this
.

“When?” he asked, his voice guttural.

“I’d leave in a month.” Mia’s beautiful gold eyes gazed at him calmly. “Grant sent me the plane ticket this morning, so it’s mine for the taking. If I choose to go.”

Fighting down the insane urge to locate the ticket somewhere in her apartment and rip it to shreds, Nick got to his feet. He limped around her warm and welcoming living room, running his fingers through his dark hair.

“I can’t believe you did all this without talking to me about it!” he burst out. “I mean… four months in Thailand? And not a hint that you were thinking about leaving me?” Even as he said the words, he knew how hypocritical they were, in light of what he’d been keeping from her.

Her eyes flashed now. “Are you fucking
for
real
? You’re actually accusing me of not trying to
talk
to you?”

That stopped him. Mia almost never swore.

“For weeks, Nick –
weeks
– you’ve been showing up here late, if you show up at all. You’re AWOL during the day when I call the gym. You’ve been limping badly for over a month – you won’t say one word how it happened, so for all I know, you’re in those underground fights that Mitch just got himself
out
of. You blow me off at the last minute, you refuse to talk about our relationship.” She bit her lip. “You won’t make love with me… won’t spend the night. You’ve stopped talking to me about everything.”

“Well, yeah.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I just – I had the feeling you wanted to talk about something really serious, and I didn’t – I wasn’t ready to face any of it.”

She glared at him, and he was taken aback at the force of her anger. “Well, then. You can’t complain now that I didn’t tell you anything! I was trying, Nick, and you
knew
I was trying. That’s why
you
were avoiding
me
, you asshole!” She got to her feet too. “You made damn sure that we didn’t have this conversation, so don’t you throw this back on me!”

He held up his hands. “OK, OK, I’m sorry. You’re right.”

“Damn right I am.” She was still furious. “So what’s been going on with you lately, Nick? You going to tell me before I get on the plane, or do I get to leave the country still wondering what the fuck?”

“Mia…”

“What?”

“I – I’ve been going to doctors. Specialists.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. “Why?” Then she had a wave of intuition. “Your leg?”

“Yeah.” Nick sat again and she sank down beside him. “It’s bad, angel.”

“Tell me, right now,” she said. “No bullshit.”

“I had a really serious leg injury years ago, when I still did karate competitively. A bad break in my left tibia, really ugly, lots of nerve damage. I was young and strong and recovered well… but the nerve damage never gets better. It ended my career years early.”

“OK.”

“And now I have a neuroma near the break site, in the front part of my lower leg.”

Mia looked blank.

“It’s basically a massive growth of nerve cells that have become disorganized and clumped together. It’s – it’s really painful.”

“And what do we do about it?” she said.

He looked away. “In most cases, injections help with the pain, so I’ve been getting some.” He rolled up his dress pants and she gasped at the purple and black marks all along his shin. “
This
is why I haven’t taken my clothes off with you, Mia. I didn’t want you to know about any of it. Not yet.”

She stared at the bruises.

He rolled his pants back down. “So, that’s where I’ve been during the day, at least sometimes.”

“And the rest of the time?”

“Consulting specialists about what surgery is needed to remove the neuroma.”

“OK,” Mia said. “So when are they removing this mass?”

Nick was silent.

“What? Nick, what?”

“In my case, with its size and the number of nerves, and where it’s located, it – it can’t be removed. Not in a local capacity, at any rate. Not with a simple procedure of entering and cutting it out.”

“I don’t get what you’re saying. You just have to live with it? With the pain?”

“No, I can’t do that either.”

“So…”

Nick looked up at her now, and she was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “They have to take the lower part of my left leg.”

There wasn’t enough air in the room suddenly.

“You – you mean… what do you mean, they have to ‘take it’?” Mia felt sick. “You mean – remove it?”

“I mean amputation.” He swallowed. “Just below my knee.”

“Nick. Oh, my God.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry. But I just – I couldn’t say it out loud. Not even to myself.”

Mia was horrified when she saw the tears in his eyes, and she reached for him. “Come here, babe.”

To her relief, he did. He almost fell in to her arms, holding her so tightly, it hurt. But she didn’t say one word about it; she let him clutch her and bury his face in her throat and sob, and she took his shaking in to her own body. She felt the anger and fear just rushing out of him, and she suddenly knew every single thing that Nick had been thinking for the past few weeks.

He pulled back because he didn’t want you to see him as weak, or needing any help. He didn’t want to scare you, or worry you, or any of us. Maybe he even hoped you’d get angry enough to dump him; that way, you wouldn’t have to deal with any of it now. And he stopped talking about a future together because he was sure you wouldn’t want one with him – not anymore, not like this.

He cried for a long time, and when he stopped, she stood up. He gazed at her blearily – wrecked and so young-looking – and she held out her hand. When he took it, she led him to her bedroom and undressed both of them slowly.

Once they were both in their underwear, she lay down and pulled him in to bed with her. Mia curled up at his side, holding him, feeling him tremble. Minutes passed, and they breathed together, and she waited for Nick to come back to her. She was sure he would, this time.

Chapter Twenty

A little over two weeks later, Joe and his father Amos stopped by Maggie’s studio to check on the second apsara. She welcomed them in, smiled at Amos. He and Joe’s mother Claudia had been at Rita’s funeral, and she knew she’d spoken to them briefly at the wake afterwards. But she’d been so fuzzy and shocked, she barely remembered their conversation now.

Amos gave her a hug. “How you doing, girl?”

“Good. Better.”

His blue eyes – eyes so much like his son’s – took her in. “Really?”

“Yes.”

Joe kissed her now, just a quick one on the cheek, but his lips burned her, scorched her with their heat. God, she wanted to make love to him; it was becoming an almost irrational need at this point. She dreamt about it at night, she daydreamed about it on the bus. Her desire for Joe was becoming all-consuming, and their resolve to take it slow was starting to make her crazy.

“You OK, baby?” he murmured in her ear. That husky whisper had her wet and aching between her legs, and the bastard knew it. His grin was naughty and teasing, and all she wanted was to kiss it off his lips.

“Uh-huh,” she managed. “You want to see her?”

Joe raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I do.”

Maggie blushed, somehow feeling like a dirty
double-entendre
had just taken place. “OK. Come on over.”

The men followed her in to the main work area and stood, amazed and delighted. The bottom half of the second apsara was completely finished, and this one was even more graceful than the first one: less earthy, more a creature of air and cloud.

Maggie was aiming for a dancing goddess who barely seemed to touch the ground, who seemed to float and fly. This apsara represented pure joy, and she was light and without a single earthly care. She had never known grief or pain, she'd never been hurt. She was free of all of that.

“Well?” Maggie asked, nervous. “Is she OK?”

“Maggie,” Amos breathed. “She’s glorious.”

She looked at Joe. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joe could barely take his eyes off the apsara’s joyful dance. “You’ve done it again.”

“Thank God.” She ran a hand through her hair. “I was worried that everything would catch up to me a bit.”

“It hasn’t,” Joe said gently. “You’re doing great.”

“OK, then. I figure she’ll be done in about two weeks. Maybe a bit more.”

“Perfect,” Amos said. “Let me know closer to the time, and I’ll arrange shipping to the restaurant for both sculptures.”

“You’ll have a safe place to keep them?” she asked. “Away from the construction dust?”

“Yep.”

“Good.” She smiled at both men. “So… I guess I’ll get back to work.”

“No way,” Joe said. “That’s enough for tonight.” His eyes were serious, steady. “Have you eaten today?”

Immediately, she looked away from his stare and he sighed.

“So you haven’t.”

“I’ve had… coffee. And a croissant!”

“Right. And it’s five o’clock in the evening.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care. Come on. We’re going to my place. I have food ready in the fridge. I’ll feed you.”

“Joe,” she protested. “It’s fine. I’ll go home and…”

“Nuh-uh. My place. Now. Let’s go.”

She looked at Amos, pleading, but the older man shook his head. “No help from me, Maggie. You look pale and exhausted and I know you need a good meal. Go on to Joe’s, and I mean this instant. I’ll go back to the restaurant and sort out some paperwork, then I’ll head home myself.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure.” Amos waved his hands. “See you kids soon.”

Maggie grinned at Joe. At thirty-three and thirty-five, they were hardly ‘kids’… but then again, Amos’ habit of calling her ‘kid’ and ‘girl’ was strangely endearing.

“Goodnight, Amos,” she said. “See you.”

“You bet. Claudia wants you to come over for brunch one Sunday. Maybe this weekend?”

“Really?” Maggie asked.

“Yep. You free?”

She glanced over at Joe and he nodded. “Yeah, come on over to the house. Mom wants us to all have a meal together. She’s worried about you, wants to lay eyes on you herself.”

“OK, then,” Maggie said, touched at being so cared for by his family. “Brunch it is.”

“We’ll be there by eleven,” Joe told his father. “We’ll come over together.”

Amos rolled his eyes. “Well, I assumed so, Joe. Seeing as you two
are
together.”

They both blushed and averted their eyes.

Amos sighed and muttered audibly under his breath. “Stupid kids. Wasting all this damn time.”

**

Maggie sighed in happiness as she entered Joe’s house. It was warm and familiar, and it always smelled delicious – like he’d just finished cooking an amazing meal there. Which, if she thought about it, he usually had done. He heard her soft exhalation, saw the tension start to move out of her shoulders, and he pulled her in to his arms for a hug.

“You OK?” he asked softly. “Like, really OK?”

“I am.” She leaned in to his body, feeling both aroused and relaxed. “I miss her so much, but I’m – happy. With you.”

“Good to hear.” He kissed her forehead, her freckled nose. “Now, go get cleaned up. You’re a mess.”

“Yeah, I know.” She glanced down at her clothes and hands. “What I do is so messy, huh?”

“But you’re gorgeous, sweetness. Just fucking breathtaking.”

Their eyes met, and the air between them almost crackled.

“OK, so.” Maggie forced herself to look away. “How long ‘til dinner’s ready?”

“I’ll stick it in the oven to heat now.” Joe glanced at the kitchen clock. “Forty minutes?”

“Perfect.”

Maggie wandered down the hall to Joe’s room, rummaged through her clothes. She’d brought over several things the week before – clothes, toiletries, some sketch pads for when inspiration struck – and he’d given her a key, told her to come and go as she pleased. She’d spent several nights here, Joe had stayed at her place many times, they’d spent some nights apart. Slowly, surely, they were figuring it out.

Now if we can just figure out when we’re going to make love, ‘cause
damn
. I’m burning up for him.

She stripped off her jeans and oversized t-shirt and stepped in to Joe’s shower. She loved it, and every single time she used it, she felt like a Hollywood celebrity or something. It was a walk-in shower cabinet, roomy and bright, with sky-blue tiles, a small marble shelf for the shampoo and body wash, and a door with a brilliant blue stained glass star in its centre. She stood under the hot spray for a few minutes, eyes closed, just breathing.

I love you, Mom. I miss you. I hope wherever you are, you and Daddy are together and happy. And at peace.

Maggie heard the soft click of the shower door and she opened her eyes. Joe was standing right in front of her, huge, hard and naked. She stared at him through the steam, and the lust and want on his face as he looked her up and down pushed all the air out of her body. Suddenly dizzy with longing, she braced herself against the wall.

He stepped in to the shower cabinet now, swinging the door closed behind him. She held her breath as he moved closer, and then he stopped.

“Is this OK?’ he asked.

Wordless, she reached for Joe and he caught her to him. His hands tangled in her long hair, and she fell instantly in to the moment –
this
moment. She forgot that anyplace existed outside of this glass cabinet, that there was anything besides Joe. She forgot her own grief, her fear for Nick, her worry for Mia. Maggie just grabbed hold of this place, this time.

This man.

He held her as close as he could, still disbelieving that she’d actually given him this second chance. His whole damn life had become about this woman: being there for her, pulling her through. Loving her.

Joe leaned over a bit and reached for the shampoo bottle. He squeezed some of the fragrant liquid in to his palm. “Come here,” he said. “I’ve missed doing this.”

She smiled up at him as he gently massaged her hair and scalp, and rinsed the lather away under the hot water, his fingers running through her dark curls. She tingled everywhere that he touched her, and when they stood together under the shower, just holding on to each other and breathing each other in, she knew what adoration physically felt like.

When he finally kissed her, she was so starved for him, she thought her legs would give out under her. Maggie felt the hunger and need in him too, but he was also holding back – he was going to make sure she wanted this. No regrets, no second-thoughts; not ever again.

“Joe,” she whispered.

Right away, he pulled back. “Too much? Too soon?”

She almost laughed. “God, no. I’ve wanted to do this for weeks.”

“Yeah, me too.” He grinned down at her. “So you’re OK?”

“Totally OK.” She ran her hands down his slick body, loving his large muscles. They were tight and tense, and she could actually
feel
how he was holding his desire in check. He was obviously still worried about letting it go, about letting it all wash over her, on her. But that was all she wanted: she needed him to let loose. To warm her, inside and outside.

Their kisses got harder now, deeper, and Joe backed her up slowly, carefully, until she was trapped between his hot body and the cool wall. His hands skimmed her breasts, teasing and circling her nipples, and when she gasped, he moved lower. He cupped her pussy in his large palm, and she let her head fall back as she moaned.

His eyes flared. “Fuck. I remember that sound. I’ve dreamed about it for years.” He slid his finger inside her now, and she arched. “Moan for me again, sweetness.”

Unable to help herself, she did. His finger moved out, back in, his pace slow and steady; soon, it was joined by a second one, and she ground herself against them. It was all so familiar – his scent, his body, his hands – but it was also new, with a level of trust and intimacy that they’d never had between them before. Now that she was his and he was hers, it was better. It was perfect.

Maggie’s orgasm grew fast, faster than she’d ever experienced before. She abandoned herself to it now, one leg wrapping around his strong thigh without her even noticing it was happening. She dug her nails in to his shoulders, leaving crescents in his skin, and she didn’t notice that, either. All she knew was the pleasure that he was giving her, and when his thumb rubbed her clit, her cry echoed around the bathroom.

“Joe,” she said, not even recognizing her own voice. “
Joe
…”

“You close, baby?” he said, his fingers going deeper now. “You going to come for me?”

“God…” Her voice was a keening whimper against his lips. “God, yes…”

His fingers plunged faster, his thumb pressed harder, and Maggie let go for Joe, let go fully. Her ecstatic cry was captured by his mouth, and he took it in to himself, loving hearing it. She clenched around his fingers, every muscle in her body flexing and releasing, and Joe held her in place, not letting her go until he’d coaxed every last ripple of her climax out of her.

Maggie sagged against him, exhausted. Her leg slipped down, her hands slid off his shoulders. He cradled her in his arms, his fingers clasped together at the small of her back, and she let herself relax completely, not even thinking about trying to stand up on her own.

He won’t let go. He won’t let me fall.

Slowly, she became aware of the cooling water, and she raised her flushed face to it. He pushed her hair off her cheeks and she opened her eyes. He smiled when he saw the look in their sparkling green depths: he’d missed that sated, satisfied gleam, and he kissed her.

“You are so beautiful,” Joe said. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I am?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“You make me feel beautiful,” she said. “God, Joe… the way you look at me sometimes.”

“Good. I’m glad you’ve noticed.” He turned the water off, then opened the door and grabbed a towel. “Come here, baby. Let me dry you off.”

He toweled every inch of her amazing body, holding her close the whole time, knowing that her legs were still shaky. He wrapped her up, then dried himself carelessly. He moved the droplets of moisture from place to place more than actually making any real progress, and she laughed.

“Let me,” she said, and took the towel from him.

Joe stood still, feeling her every touch to a hypersensitive degree. Her movements were slow and sure, and he felt his whole body tightening up under her hands. She was standing behind him now, drying his back, running the rough material down his spine. She squeezed his taut ass teasingly and he grinned over his shoulder at her.

“What are you doing?’ he asked.

“Nothing.” She dropped her towel, pressed her gorgeous breasts flush against him and rubbed her nipples against his back. When she heard his breath catch, she reached around to trace the curve of muscles in his stomach before taking him in her hand. “Why do you ask?”

He couldn’t speak suddenly. Her hand on his hardening cock was exquisite, and he just hoped he wouldn’t embarrass himself by losing it within seconds. She stroked him, her touch firm and warm, and he braced himself on the glass wall of the shower with one strong forearm.

“Maggie.” His voice was a warning.

“Hmmmm?” she asked, her hand moving faster now, circling the tip, spreading his salty pre-cum along his length. “What’s up?”

“You
know
what’s up.”

“You mean
this
?” She gave his shaft a squeeze when she said ‘this’.

Joe actually growled now, a sound that started deep in his chest and twisted out of him, thick and hot and full of desire. She heard his lust and her pussy was immediately soaked.

“Joe…”

That was all she had time to say. He turned now, rough and abrupt, and shoved her backwards. Her back hit the wall next to the sink and he spun her around, his hand between her legs again.

“Up against the wall, hard and fast,” he said in her ear. “The way we both love it, right?”

She gasped, wanting nothing more than to make love to him. Now.

“Yes,” she said. “Joe, please…”