The Fighter Duet: Two Full-Length, Red-Hot New Adult Fighter Romances (20 page)

N
othing was keeping
Slayde and me apart now. If I wasn’t at his place, he was spending the night at mine. He still left early each morning to be at the gym, cleaning the locker rooms and getting ready for the day, but now that Rook had made him a trainer, he was with me more all the other times.

Slayde never said how many years he’d been a fighter before he quit, but he was so skilled at everything, it had to have been a while. Even Pete asked him for pointers on lifts and moves.

He’d already left for the day when I was hanging out with Mariska that Wednesday afternoon, dishing about my super sexy boyfriend. She was dressed as always in her Boho-Goth style. Deep emerald bodysuit with a long, rayon skirt wrapped around her slim hips. Her long, wavy brown hair was pinned back on the sides and silver skull earrings were in both her ears.

“Is he really rough?” She leaned forward, hazel eyes sparkling. “Like when you’re doing it, does he hold you down and shit?”

“No,” I laughed. “That’s such a freakin’ stereotype.” My knee-jerk response I’m sure was a result of Patrick’s intense line of questioning the last time I’d talked to him.
Shit
! Had that been two weeks ago? I needed to plan a trip to Wilmington now.

Mariska’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe it. He has those wicked-sexy eyes, like he likes to strangle you.”

Leaning forward, I scanned the bar to be sure we were alone. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” I whispered. My friend squealed, and I kicked her. “Shut the fuck up,” I hissed. “That’s why I can’t tell you anything at work.”

“So does he do it? Do you come really hard?” She was leaning forward on the bar again, and I was about to tell her we’d never tried it when a man pushed through the glass doors.

He strode toward the counter, and we both snapped to attention. He was gorgeous, tall and slim but built, and the way he carried himself, I could tell he was used to giving orders—and being obeyed. He was military, I’d bet my life on it.

As I looked at him, something was so familiar, from the light brown hair with caramel highlights to the intense hazel eyes that were almost green. The more I studied him, the more he reminded me of…

“Can I help you?” Mariska’s voice cut through my thoughts with a force that caused me to step back.

“I’m looking for Kendra Woods. She goes by Kenny.” The handsome man surveyed the gym behind us.

Blinking up at him, I straightened. “I’m Kenny.”

Stern eyes moved to my face, and he hesitated. “I expected someone… older.”

Embarrassment mixed with anger.
Was he insulting me?
“I’m twenty-six, and you are…?”

“Stuart Knight. You know my brother Patrick.”

My mouth dropped open, but I quickly closed it. The few times Patrick had mentioned his older brother Stuart, it had always been to say what a hardass he was or to note how much they didn’t get along. I could see where he was coming from, but I wasn’t about to be intimidated on my own turf.

“I know Patrick. What do you want?”

“May I speak with you in private? It’s about your son, my nephew.” He never once lost his imposing posture, but he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, revealing the slightest crack in the armor along with some pretty impressive ink hiding under his long sleeve.

I took a breath and exchanged a glance with Mariska. Patrick’s brother or not, I wasn’t comfortable being alone with this guy. “Mariska’s my friend. We can talk here.”

He glanced at her, and for a moment, his eyes got caught. It was like he saw her for the first time, and even I could feel the unexpected charge that passed in the air between them.

His voice changed, sternness gone. “Hello.”

Mariska’s cheeks warmed along with her voice. “Hi—it’s Stuart? Would you like a smoothie? I make them myself… right over there.” She pointed across the bar. “It’ll give you a little privacy. While you talk.”

Watching the two of them, I almost suggested I make the smoothie and leave them alone together, but he grabbed the reins.

“Thank you,” he said, breaking their moment. Still, his gaze drifted to her ass when my friend sashayed across the bar. I resisted rolling my eyes at her obvious hip swish.

The deep voice was back on me, sternness restored. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I have something for Lane. I’d like you to keep it for him until he’s old enough to have it.”

I watched him dig in his pocket and pull out a small bundle wrapped in a black cloth. It fit in his palm, and as he unwrapped it, I ducked under the counter to stand in front of him. “What is it?”

Opening his hand, light glinted off the shiny bronze. It was a medal on a navy ribbon with red stripes. “It’s my father’s distinguished service award. It was given to me when he died. I need you to give it to Lane as the first grandson when he’s older.”

Concern flooded my chest. “Why are you giving this to me now? You can give it to him yourself. Later.”

He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the memento in his hand as if he saw something more than just a piece of metal. “That might not be possible, and I need to pass it down. It’s important I do this.”

Flying through the millions of possibilities, I studied his face. “Are you ill? Do you want me to call Patrick?”

That broke whatever reverie he was in. “No,” he ordered. “This is just between us. I don’t want my brother involved.”

“But he has Lane…”

Stuart nodded. “That’s why I’m asking you for this favor.”

I shook my head. None of it made sense. Heirlooms were handed down when someone died. Stuart appeared healthy, shit he appeared freakin’ hot as hell, but I could tell something was off with him. Chewing my lip, I wondered if I should press the issue.

I was about to speak, but Mariska slid the smoothie she’d just made across the counter to him. “On the house. It’s full of lavender and blueberry. It’ll help you relax.”

He looked at her, and that charge was back. Perhaps it was because physically he was so much like his brother, I felt like I could read his body language. Their eyes met and mingled, and Mariska’s cheeks flushed. Still, he resisted.

“I have to go.” His voice was quiet—as if he were speaking only to her.

My friend wasn’t the least bit discouraged. She reached forward, touching his hand. “Where are you going?”

Even though I could tell he wanted to pull away, he seemed hypnotized by her. “My uncle has a place out west where… where I can breathe. Maybe I can find some peace.”

The muscle in his jaw moved, and he stepped away from the counter, away from her. He’d done what he came to do, and I could tell Mariska was more than he expected from this errand.

“Please,” I stepped toward him. “Let me call Patrick. I’m sure he’d want to know—”

“No.” His eyes flashed, and a charge of fear radiated in my chest. Clearly, Stuart Knight was not someone to cross. “Do not call my brother. I don’t want to see him.”

He turned and headed for the door, but Mariska grabbed the smoothie he’d left behind and ducked under the counter. Stuart might scare me, but she wasn’t letting whatever had passed between them get away so easily.

“Wait! You forgot something!” She caught his hand, and he paused. He turned back to her, and his expression softened.

For a moment, he stood there. She held his hand as well as his gaze. “Thanks,” he said, taking the beverage she held. Their eyes met again, but he let her go, pushing through the glass doors.

I went back inside the bar, shoving the bundle in my bag and fishing around for my phone. Badass or not, something was seriously wrong, and I needed to call Patrick. His brother was proud and clearly strong, but the guy who just handed me his father’s medal of honor was contemplating some serious shit.

“Oh my god, Kenny.” Mariska collapsed against the bar. “I’m in love.”

My lips pressed together as I touched my recent calls and then Patrick’s number. “I saw that. What the hell was going on with you two?”

“That mountain of honey brown, hazelnut deliciousness just left here with my heart.”

I moved around the small space, waiting for the call to connect. “Gorgeous genes clearly run in their family.”

Patrick’s phone kept ringing until finally it went to voicemail. Hearing his greeting, I thought about it. I wasn’t exactly sure what to say—and even if I were, it probably wasn’t the type of thing to leave in a message. I hit disconnect and shoved my phone in my purse.

Mariska was still leaning against the wall, one hand on her heart, when she turned back to me. “What are you doing?”

“I’m calling Patrick, what does it look like? That mountain of hazelnut… whatever you called him is not in a good place, and he just gave me their father’s heirloom.”

“You can’t call Patrick!” She stood up quickly. “He asked you not to. Twice!”

“Stuart Knight is in a dark place. I’ve got to tell Patrick.”

“He said he needs to breathe. Don’t break his trust.”

“And what if… what if he hurts himself?” I hated to imply something like that, but all the signs were there.

She looked back at the glass doors, her voice growing softer. “He won’t. My soul called out to his, and I felt him calling back. He needs space to sort this out.”

“I’m pretty sure that was your ovaries calling out for his babies.” My jaw tightened as conflict swirled in my chest. “Did he say he was going to stay with their uncle? That could be good…”

“He said their uncle had a place out west.” She was still dreamy.

I took a deep breath, uncertainty making my head hurt. “Make me one of those blueberry-lavender things.”

She ducked under the bar and started adding ingredients to the blender. We were quiet a few seconds then her nose wrinkled, and she laughed. “I totally want to sleep with him. Is that nuts or what?”

“No. He’s sexy as hell.” I waited as she finished my supposedly relaxing concoction. “If Stuart’s anything like Patrick in the sack…”

“Don’t be cruel.” She cut her eyes at me. “The chances I’ll see that gorgeous thing again are slim to none.”

“But I thought your souls were calling to each other or whatever.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll listen.” Her voice was a little sad, and my eye caught the other hot guy in her life, working with an elderly client in the weight room.

“What’s wrong with Pete? He’s totally smitten with you.”

She sighed, leaning against the bar. “He just doesn’t do it for me. I don’t know why. I’m not blind—he’s a great looking guy. It’s just not there. And believe me. I’ve tried. Several times.”

“Well, I’m headed out.” Kissing her cheek, I picked up my drink. “Thanks for this. I’ll give the elder Mr. Knight a few days, but it’s against my better judgment. I think Patrick needs to know now.”

She smiled and looked down. “That was the most amazing experience I’ve ever had. I’m sure I’ll see him again. Don’t worry.”

Walking out, I shook my head thinking how much I adored that nutty girl.

* * *

S
tuart Knight’s
unexpected visit was forgotten when I opened my door. The delicious smell of grilled steak met my nose, and I quickly moved through my apartment, dropping all my bags, to find the gorgeous man who had my heart on the patio looking out at the horizon. The small, charcoal grill at his feet apparently held our dinner.

“Hey,” I said, sliding the glass door open. The way his brow relaxed when he saw me sent a happy tingle through my middle. “Are you making me steak?”

“You’re not going to believe what I found in your freezer.” He walked to where I leaned on the doorjamb.

“Have I ever told you I could watch that sexy swagger all day long?”

“Do I swagger?” He laughed, seeming surprised.

“Yes. Now kiss me.”

He leaned down and covered my lips with his. I released the glass doors and slid my fingers into his dark hair. He lifted me like always—and I loved it like always—kissing him harder as I held him in my hands.

Pulling back, I kissed the corner of his mouth before asking. “What did you find in my freezer?”

He lowered me slowly before sliding a purple lock off my cheek. “You had six steaks in there. What’s that about?”

My brow lined as I thought. “Oh, shit. I think Patrick did that!”

“Patrick again.” His mouth made that tight line, and while I knew he had absolutely zero reason to be jealous, something wicked inside me loved that he was.

“He used to hassle me about being too thin all the time.” I rubbed my hands up Slayde’s lined arms. “Strike that. He still hassles me about being too thin all the time. But he actually used to send me meat every month. Can you believe?”

Slayde couldn’t stop the sexy grin crossing his lips, but he looked up and over my shoulder. “You are pretty thin, but I know you eat.”

“He’s such a pain. Remember when I said he was my big brother?” Slayde looked back down at me. “It was the closest thing I could get to saying he’s like my dad without being gross.”

“Because of the whole having a baby together thing?”

“Exactly, but damn is he a pain in my ass sometimes.” I exhaled going back to the kitchen. “Do you mind if I have a glass of wine?”

“Of course not.” He went back to check the grill before joining me in the kitchen. “You still care about him. No matter what you say.”