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Authors: Michelle Cary

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BOOK: Wrestling Desire
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Holt shook his head.  “My shoulder still hurts, and I’m uncomfortable and that damn light needs to go out.”

Garrett’s face slid from concern into a mischievous grin.  “You’re going to pull a switcheroo again, aren’t you?”

“If the light ever goes out.  Besides-” Holt arched a brow.  “You don’t seem to mind sitting next to Jill.”

Garrett shook his head.  “Not at all.  She’s a sweet girl and all she does when she’s up here is stretch out, put on the headphones and take a nap.  Actually-” he chuckled.  “She’s a better seatmate than you most of the time.”

Holt sneered at him.  “Ha ha…Remind me why I’m friends with you?”

Garrett chuckled
again.
“Because nobody else can put up with your ego.”

“Nice.  Real nice, pal.”  A soft ding had Holt looking up and excitement zinged through him as he realized the light was now off. “I’m so outta here.”  He pushed up from his seat.

“Damn, Holt.”  Garrett said with exasperation in his voice as Holt tried to squeeze by.  “You act as if you’re about to get some nookie right here on the plane when the best you’re looking at is some quiet conversation for the next two hours.”

“That’s two hours of undivided attention I wouldn’t otherwise have,” Holt argued as he slid past Garrett.  “Besides, not everything in life has to revolve around sex, you know.”

Garrett’s brow winged up in surprise.  “Who in the hell are you and what did you do with Holt?”

Holt sneered at his friend.  “I’m serious, Garrett.”

Garrett shook his head. “Do you hear yourself?  You’re slowly becoming obsessed with her. What happened to the Holt who dated a different woman every night?”

Holt paused next to his buddy and straightened his dress shirt.  “He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”

“Does Gene France know about that decision?  The reputation of
T
he
H
eartthrob is kind of integral to your character on screen.  Teenage girls
everywhere
will be crying into their pillow if
he’s
suddenly off the market.”

Holt sighed.  “I don’t really care what my character’s reputation is.  My character can be made over if necessary.” 

Garrett started to speak and Holt held up a hand stopping him.  “I don’t expect you to understand.  Just trust me when I tell you that she’s the one.”

“How can she be the one when she’s rejected you constantly for the last two years?  Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”

“Never.” Holt looked down at his friend.  How could he possibly explain to Garrett how he felt about Emma?  There was just something about the brunette beauty that had him intrigued.  Her quite nature
combined with earthy good looks and a tough persona had Holt hooked.   Then there was the spark, the passion that flared between them.  He’d never felt that much desire with any other woman…ever.

“You really have a thing for her don’t you?”

“I do.”

Garrett slid his headphone back over his ears.  “Good luck then because I think you’re going to need it.”

Ignoring Garrett’s comment Holt made his way from first class back to coach.  He scanned the rows until he found Jill and Emma sitting together toward the back of the plane.  It didn’t take long for Jill to spot him and she grinned.  “Looks like I’m getting first class accommodation again,” she said to Emma, then picked up her purse and headed for the front of the plane.

Holt watched her go, then slid into the seat she’d vacated.  “Hey there
,
G
orgeous.”

A small smile tipped her lips as she cut a sideways glance at him.  “You know Jill is getting accustom
ed
to flying first class because of you.  She’ll be sorely disappointed if you ever stop chasing me.”

He grinned. “I don’t think she has anything to worry about.”   

 

Two hours later Holt
had forgotten his sore shoulder and
was thoroughly enjoying himself as he debated with Emma over who was the best old time wrestler ever.  “Oh come on, Emma.  You can’t sit there and tell me that Bob ‘The Bomb’ Blackwell wasn’t the greatest wrestler of all time.”

“Sure I can.” She angled her hip so she faced him, defiance and determination in her eyes.  “Nobody was a better wrestler than my dad.  Crusher Cruise.”

Knowing this wasn’t a battle he was going to win, Holt relented.  “Okay, even though you might be bias
ed
with that determination, for the sake of this conversation I’ll give you the win.”

Her grin widened.  “Thank you.”

“So what was it like growing up with Crusher as your dad?”  He’d been curious about her childhood, but never had the right angle to ask.  With Emma bringing up the subject of her father it seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

She leaned her head against the seat as her look turned thoughtful.  “He wasn’t home all that much.  I remember mom sometimes crying herself to sleep because she missed him so much.”

“Gee that’s tough.”

She gave small nod. “The problem back then
was
wrestling didn’t pay
well.  With three
kids to feed
he
worked constantly.”

“It must have been tough on you kids not to have him around.”

She appeared to consider his statement before she finally spoke.  “Sometimes I guess.  The worst was when he’d miss our birthdays or some special school event, but he always tried to make it up to us when he was home.”  She let out a heavy sigh.  “I still think that maybe if he’d been home more often
maybe things would have been different.  Maybe
mom might still be alive.”

Holt remembered hearing through the rumor mill about the mysterious disappearance of Sara Cruise.  She’d apparently gone out one night to buy more milk and never returned.  “Did the police ever figure out what happened to your mom?”

The light in her eyes slowly faded into sadness as she shook her head.  “All I remember is her tucking me into bed one night with a kiss and I love you and waking up the next morning to find her gone.”  Her gaze seemed to be far away as she spoke now and Holt
’s
heart
broke
for the little girl who’d lost her mother all too soon.  “I remember I heard men’s voices, which was unusual unless Dad was home.  I thought he’d come home and I went bounding down the steps only to find our neighbor Mrs. Feginbaum talking with two police officers and Derek and Bryan sitting on the couch crying. That was my first indication something was terribly wrong, because Derek never cried.”

He tentatively reached for her hand and his heart filled with joy when she didn’t pull away.  “How old were you, Em?”

She swallowed audibly.  “Twelve.  Bryan was fifteen and Derek was just shy of turning eighteen.  I remember that being an issue because he tried to get the police to allow him to watch us until dad could make it home and they wouldn’t because he wasn’t technically a grown
up yet.”  She sucked in a deep breath and within seconds the glaze he’d seen in her eyes was gone, replaced with her naturally stoic demeanor.  “That was fifteen years ago and in all that time they’ve never found any clues as to what happened to her.  Not even the car.”

Holt rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand.  “I’m really sorry, Emma.  I didn’t mean to drag up bad memories.”

She gave a quick shake of her head and shot him a smile he knew was force
d
.  “It’s okay.  Like I said it was a long time ago.  Damn near a lifetime it seems.  How about you?” she asked.  “You’re not part of some wrestling legacy so how did you get involved in the sport?”

Holt opened his mouth to answer only to be interrupted by the blaring of the overhead speaker.

Passengers of flight two-twenty-one, this is your captain speaking.  As we begin our decent I ask that you bring your seats to an upright position and fold up your laptop trays.  Please put on your seatbelts and remain seated for the duration of the flight.  We will be landing in approximately ten minutes.

Damn!  “Well.” He shrugged. “I guess that story will have to wait for our next flight.”

Chapter 2

 

After they landed, Emma spent the day at the arena getting things in order.  Several times during the course of the day she’d caught herself daydreaming about Holt or lost in memories sparked from their earlier conversation.  

By the time she checked into the hotel that night her head was spinning.  
While the roadies would work into the wee hours of the morning, her job was done for the night. Hopefully,
she could try
to
get a good night’s rest.  Maybe her mind would be clear come morning.

She’d just placed her suitcase on the rack when someone knocked on her door and she nearly groaned in frustration.  The last thing she wanted right now was company, but after the conversation she had on the plane with Holt she was pretty sure who
stood
on the other side of the door.

Intent on rejecting him as nicely as possibly she opened the door and immediately let out a squeal of delight before reaching out to hug her best friend.  “Marissa what are you doing here?”

Marissa pulled back and grinned.  “I decided to give John the boot. Then
while talking with
dad the other day he said if I
wanted
he could write me into a storyline.”

“Really?”  Emma motioned for her to come in.  “What kind of storyline?”

Marissa shrugged.  “I think I’m supposed to get involved in a love triangle between some wrestler by the name of Clay and another by the name of Garrett.  You know them, right?”

Stunned by this turn of events Emma climbed onto the bed and sat wither legs crossed.  She patted to the empty spot next to her and Marissa joined her as she continued. “Garrett Patrick.  He’s one half of the troublesome tag team Devious.”  She couldn’t help but wonder exactly what Mr. France
planned
for the team or how Garrett
would
react.  “Um…Clay actually goes b
y the stage name Talos.”

Marissa’s face screwed into a frown.  “Talos?”

Emma waved a hand at her. “It has something to do with Greek mythology.  Just go with it.”

Marissa shifted on her hip so she
faced
Emma.  “So tell me what you know about these two guys.”

Emma though
t
for a moment.  “Clay is really sweet when he’s not in character.  He’s about average size as far as wrestlers go here.  I’d say about six foot one or two and lean. Definitely well-built.”

Marissa arched a brow.  “Sounds intriguing.  What about the other one”

Emma couldn’t stop the grin
claiming
her face.  “Garrett is

well…Garrett is a boy trapped in a man’s body.”  She pushed up from the bed, crossed over and opened her suitcase.  “Like I said he’s half of the tag team Devious along with Holt Hendricks.  Their storyline has them constantly getting in trouble with management and other wrestlers because of their stupid pranks and jokes.”

She picked up her travel bag and walked it the bathroom as she continued to talk.  “However, they’re both powerhouse
s in the ring.  At six foot two
inches Garrett is the
slightly
bigger of the two and a definitely more intimidating.  As a team they decimate anyone and anything that’s willing to climb into the ring with them and they’re just as good as singles wrestlers.”

“Is he cute?” Marissa called from the other room.

Emma stuck her head out the door.  “I think so.  He’s got long brown hair and a goatee and he’s built like a brick shithouse.”  She pointed a finger at her friend.  “Just remember, he’s a bit of a rebel.”

Marissa rubbed her hands together.  “I like a good challenge.  Sounds like fun.  Speaking of fun
,
I discovered on my way in that this hotel has a nightclub.  How about you and me hit the dance floor?”

Intrigued, Emma considered Marissa’s offer.  “I don’t know, Riss.  I have to be at the arena early tomorrow.”

“Oh come on, Emma.  It’s been forever since we’ve been out partying together.  It could be just like old times.”

Emma could never quite resist her friend’s requests.  She couldn’t count on
the
fingers
of both hands
how many times she’d gotten in trouble because of giving in to Marissa.  “Okay, but we can’t stay out too late.  Unlike you I actually have to work tomorrow.”

*  * *

A half hour later, dressed in denim skirt and a tank top, Emma stepped into the club behind Marissa.  She scanned the crowd, noted how the place was filled with wrestling stars and staff and relaxed a little.  While going to a club where she didn’t know anyone
provided
a certain amount of anonymity,
in turn
being among co-workers and friends provided a sense of security.  Normally she
remained sober
and responsible.  Being surrounded by those she trusted meant she could cut loose and enjoy herself as much as she wanted.   Right now she wanted a drink.

BOOK: Wrestling Desire
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