by LK Shaw
“Jamal and Charles.”
“If I recall, the last time Charles got in the ring with me, I wiped the floor with him. Is he sure he’s ready for a rematch?” I chuckled.
Sam eyeballed me. “Considering he’s been showing up for the last few months and working on his technique, while you’ve gotten soft, I’m pretty sure he’s up for the task.”
“I resent that. There is nothing soft about me. Just because I took a little time off doesn’t mean I still can’t kick his ass.”
He sent me one of those looks. “Your ego never deflates does it?”
His words gave me pause. He sounded like Pablo, only a lot less judgmental.
“You all right?” he asked when I didn’t reply immediately.
I shook off the weird feeling. Between Charity and this, I didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with me. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m good. Anytime Charles wants a rematch, tell him I’ll be ready.”
Sam tilted his head a bit. My statement hadn’t come out as cocksure as I’d meant it to, but I mustered up my usual arrogant grin. He stared at me a moment longer before finally nodding. “I’ll let him know.”
“I’m going to hit the mat.” I gestured awkwardly to the area where the punching bags hung.
“Have a good workout, son.”
Leaving Sam standing there, I felt the heat of his eyes follow me until I disappeared through the entryway leading to the locker room. I turned the corner and collided with a small, soft body who let out an oof at impact.
“I’m sorry, are you—Charity.” My voice softened.
“Oliver.” It came out on a squeak. “Um, hi. What are you doing here?”
Thank god she’d forgotten her insistence on formality. I hated the way she said Officer Garrison. “I came to work out.”
She flushed a pale pink, her cheeks swiftly changing colors. “Oh, yeah, duh. I should have known.”
I took her in. Aside from the blush, she possessed a healthy glow. It looked like she’d put on a little bit of weight, which was a good thing, since previously she had the gaunt appearance of someone underfed. She had curves that I couldn’t remember being there either. Granted, she’d always seem to be wearing too-big clothes whenever I’d been around her, but there had been a waifish quality to her that was no longer present.
“You look good,” I said, almost stupidly.
The pink of her skin deepened another shade, and she dipped her head. “Thanks. So do you.”
“Sam treating you okay?” I asked.
Her head bobbed up and down. “Oh my gosh, he’s wonderful. The best boss I’ve ever had, in fact. Thank you so much for getting me this job.”
“As much as I’d like to take credit for that, I only set up the introduction. You got the job on your own.” If Sam hadn’t thought she was a good fit, he wouldn’t have hired her, regardless of anything I might have said to change his mind.
“I still appreciate it.” Charity waved her hand a little. “Anyway, I should probably let you get to your workout. I need to check the towels in the drier anyway.”
She moved around me and headed toward the laundry room.
“It’s good to see you,” I said before she disappeared.
Her head turned and she smiled shyly. “You too, Oliver.” Then, she was gone.
Left standing alone, I finally made my way to my locker, stowing my shirt, keys, and wallet. I grabbed the roll of tape and wrapped my hands before heading out to the floor. Sam was wandering around, observing everything. He saw me and tipped his chin while I started pounding on the first bag I came to.
After spending some time throwing punches and a few roundhouse kicks, I made my way over to the speed bags and worked on some over the head moves. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Charity walked along the perimeter carrying a basket full of towels.
My punches slowed, and I watched her. She turned her head and our eyes locked, but then she tripped, looked away, and the spell was broke. Her steps quickened, and I lost sight of her.
“She’s too good for you.”
I dropped my hands, and my head jerked to the right to find Sam standing less than ten feet away. “Excuse me?”
He nodded in the direction Charity had gone, a fierce expression on his face. “That girl over there is special, and I’d hate for her to get hurt.”
I was a thirty-three year old man, but the way he looked at me, I felt like a teenager being scolded by his father. He hadn’t even acted this protective of his own granddaughter, and a lot more had happened between her and me than a brief conversation and a casual glance. My face heated.
“You don’t have to worry, Sam. There’s nothing going on here,” I assured him. She was still the victim of a crime I was involved in, and unless I wanted to fuck the case up, then I needed to keep my distance. Even if I wanted there to be something going on, it couldn’t happen.
“That’s not what it looked like to me. She the one that had you all twisted up that day?”
There was that seeing too much again. Hadn’t I come here for this anyway? To talk to him? Here was my opening. “Yeah, that’s her.”
Sam didn’t push or prod. He just stood there waiting for me to decide if I was going to talk about it or not. When I nodded, he gestured for me to follow him. “C’mon.”
I trailed behind him, unwrapping the tape from my hands, while we headed toward his office. We passed Charity on the way.
“Keep an eye on those knuckleheads out there for me, will ya? Holler if anyone gives you any trouble,” he told her.
Her eyes darted toward me, but she quickly looked away. “You got it, Sam.”
Once inside, he closed the door behind us and waved at me to have a seat. I dropped onto the plastic desk chair which creaked under my weight while he sat in his reclining maroon-upholstered office chair. He leaned back and propped his heels on his desk as though settling in for a show.
“She’s the victim in one of my cases and came to me for help a few weeks ago. I wasn’t able to provide her with the specific help she was looking for, but I did what I could. Since then I’ve checked in with her once or twice to make sure she’s okay.”
“That was awfully nice of you,” Sam said, but in a way that inferred there was more to my being nice.
“Why do people sound surprised that I can actually be a decent person?” I grumbled.
He chuckled. “I’m not shocked that you’re a nice guy. It just seems a bit out of character for you to not only go out of your way to help a beautiful woman but to do it while keeping your dick in your pants.”
Ouch. “Beautiful or not, I don’t prey on fragile women. Or try to fuck every one that I meet.”
Sam’s lips twisted in disbelief. Jesus, did everyone really think I was that bad?
Was I that bad?
“I can’t stop thinking about her, and I don’t know why,” I finally said.
“Maybe it’s because she’s the first woman who hasn’t fallen at your feet.”
“That’s just it,” I waved my hand around. “She offered…certain things for me to help her, and I turned her down. Only a worthless shitbag would have taken advantage of her like that.”
He leaned forward in his chair so his elbows rested on his desk. “You know, we can’t always explain the pull we experience with someone. There’s no rhyme or reason why a man is drawn to one woman over another. Maybe it’s biology. Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it just is. Whatever that unknown element is, it sounds like it’s between the two of you.”
I groaned. “How do I make it go away?”
Sam leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing around his lips. “You can’t.”
Chapter 16
It had taken every ounce of willpower I possessed not to outright stare at Oliver the entire time he’d worked out. My self-control hadn’t extended so far as to not sneaking in a few quick peeks. I’d been right about those broad shoulders of his tapering to a narrow waist. The man also had abs for days.
My gaz
e landed way too often on the thin line of hair that ran from his navel downward and then disappeared below the elastic waistband of his gym shorts. The flutter of arousal grew each time I managed a quick look, and I could feel myself getting wet.
The colorful tattoos along his arms danced with every flex of muscle. So many muscles. Every punch, jab, and kick he’d made had been full of power, yet a strange sort of grace. His sweat-slicked skin glistened. I wanted to run my fingers across the slope of his chest, through the furrows between his ribs, and between each dip of abdominal muscles. My nose flared imagining the musky man scent he’d give off.
I’d been completely unprepared to run into him, although I was a little ashamed to admit that I’d kept my eye out for him every time I worked. Which was such a bad idea on my part. Yvonne was helping me to finally figure out how to set appropriate boundaries with people, and for some reason, being around Oliver made me forget all my good intentions.
I breathed a bit easier when he left for the day. After finishing the laundry, I’d avoided going out on the floor as much as possible, because I figured it was best. I’d come out from the locker rooms and run into the two of them before they disappeared into Sam’s office. They were in there for a while, and when they’d finally emerged there had been an expression on Oliver’s face I hadn’t seen there before. It was a new type of awareness, as though he was finally seeing me. I’d shivered at its intensity.
I’d just finished wiping down the portable mats that were kept stacked against the back wall when Sam approached.
“How are things going today?” he asked in that easy-going way he had.
“I’m going to let these last couple mats dry before putting them up, and then I’m all caught up with everything.”
“Good. You’ve been a great help around here.”
I flushed at the praise. Not that Sam was stingy with it, but for some reason it was really hitting home. It made me feel proud, because I suspected that he held people to a high standard, so his approval meant something special.
“You have no idea how grateful I am that you took a chance on me. I don’t want to let you down.”
“You’re a sweet young lady. I’m glad I’ve been able to help you.”
I scrubbed my toe across the floor, hesitating, but my mouth opened and a question popped out before I could think twice about it. “How long have you known Oliver?”
Sam was slow to answer. He studied me as though he could see right through me. It was a bit disconcerting, and I instantly regretted asking. Too late now. The words were already out and hovering between us.
“He’s been coming here about five years if I recall correctly.”
“So you’ve known him quite a while then.” Duh, Charity, nothing like stating the obvious. Stop talking. I couldn’t meet Sam’s gaze. Why did I open my stupid mouth?
“He and I have become good friends over the years,” he said, but didn’t elaborate any further.
“I guess that explains how he got me the job.”
“He may have asked me if I needed help, but you, young lady, are the one who got yourself this job.”
Finally, I glanced over at Sam with a grin. “That’s what Oliver said, too.”
“At least he’s not a complete idiot,” he mumbled under his breath. Still, I caught it. I didn’t even want to know what he meant by that so I didn’t ask.
“Well, I guess I should get this stuff put away and clock out.” I gestured to the few mats still spread out across the floor.
“All right, I’ll let you get to it.” Sam turned to leave, hesitated, and then turned back to face me again. “I don’t like sticking my nose in other people’s business, but I’m going to break my own rule this one time, and then I’ll never speak of it again. Please be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I managed to stutter.
He sighed, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “I saw the way you two looked at each other. I care for that boy a great deal, but he’s not a man you want to develop any type of attachment to. He’s not the kind to stick around once he’s gotten what he’s wanted.”
I stared at Sam, who met my gaze with a meaningful look. Like usual when I grew embarrassed or a bit uncomfortable, my whole face heated. His meaning was perfectly clear and somehow not surprising. I cleared my throat. “I understand and appreciate the warning.”
“I’ve said my piece, and we’ll leave it at that.” This time he turned and did walk away. I watched his retreat with a small warm glow in my belly. The fact that Sam cared enough to try and warn me away from Oliver meant a lot to me. It was…sweet.
He was right too. There was no sense in continuing with this silly infatuation I seemed to be nurturing. It would only get me hurt in the end. She’d never mentioned him by name or spoke specifically about him, but I had a feeling that Yvonne had had a romantic relationship with Oliver at one time that hadn’t ended well. Although based on what Sam just insinuated, perhaps sexual relationship was more accurate.
I was being ridiculous anyway. Oliver had made it clear on more than one occasion that I was not someone he wanted around on a regular basis. Just because he’d been nice today didn’t mean anything beyond that. It’s what I needed to keep telling myself. Otherwise, I’d start to spiral back into those nasty bad habits of reading more into people’s behavior, and I’d be right back where I started—relying on other people to take care of me.
Shaking off any more thoughts of Oliver, I finished putting away the last couple of mats and then went back to the women’s locker room to get my things. I grabbed my bag and waved bye to Sam on my way out the door.
Chapter 17
Wall-to-wall big screens decorated the interior of the crowded sports bar. I scanned the room, taking everyone in. The majority of them seemed to be in their early to mid-20s, although I spotted quite a few tables full of people around my age. I directed my gaze to the bar itself, because that would be where I’d find my father.
He’d be chatting up the bartender if there was a female one. Plus, it provided him the perfect opportunity to buy women drinks, especially the one he planned on taking home. Sure enough, there he was, casually leaning against the bar, martini in hand, while he flirted with a giggling college co-ed.
I headed in that direction, otherwise I’d never get his attention, not when his entire focus was on the young woman. That was part of his charm. Make them feel special. Ply them with alcohol to lower their inhibitions. Then move in for the kill. It was his routine, and he rarely veered from it. Why bother, when it worked nearly every time? He’d taught me his technique years ago, and I’d practiced it to perfection.
“Hey, Randall,” I greeted him. That was another thing. When we were out together, I didn’t call him Dad. He didn’t want the women thinking about him being old enough to be their father. An older, more mature uncle, maybe, but even that was pushing it.
They both turned toward me, my father’s expression shifting from flirtatious to conspiratorial. “Oliver, you made it. I’d like to introduce you to my gorgeous new friend, Jessica.”
She blushed prettily at the compliment. I nodded politely. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jessica’s friend is supposed to be here soon, so I was keeping the young lady company until then.” He turned to her with an eerily familiar smile, one I’d seen him use countless times. It was the same charming one I’d perfected over the years. Except after my conversation with Sam, and some major self-reflection over the last couple days, it looked different. It seemed almost predatory and gave me pause.
“Your drink is getting a little low. Why don’t I buy you the next one?” he asked his new lady friend.
She giggled again, as though she were already on her way to having one too many. “Thank you so much,” she said.
Randall waved over the male bartender. “I’ll have another of whatever the lady’s having and something for my friend Oliver here.”
“Just a C
oke for me, please.”
My father shot me a narrow-eyed look. “You can’t come to a bar and not have a real drink,” he cajoled.
“I’m fine with a pop, thank you,” I said firmly.
Jessica’s gaze darted nervously between us, as though sensing tension, and her friendly smile dipped a fraction. Instantly, Randall’s expression shifted to surrender. He held up his hands. “You got it. No pressure here.” His gaze shifted back to the young woman at his side, and he lowered his voice like he was letting her in on a secret. “Such a party pooper. I guess you and I will be the only ones having any fun tonight.”
She relaxed, laughing a little. The bartender brought over all our drinks, and after that, my father effectively shut me out while he continued his over-the-top flirtation. The new girl, who was introduced as Darcy, arrived, and he bought her a drink along with another for Jessica.
The two women were seated on bar stools next to each other, while my father stood right next to Jessica so he could rest his hand on the back of her chair. I stood a little over his left shoulder, a part of their group, yet separate, which was fine by me.
Something about the entire interaction left a bad taste in my mouth. The way he spoke to those women. The seemingly innocent touches to her hand. Her arm. Draping the stray strand of hair over her shoulder. When to push. When to back off. The right moment to turn up the charm. To become the suave playboy who could take home any woman he chose. They were all the things Randall had taught me. I’d been a willing student.
Chair legs scratched the floor. Darcy had pushed away from the bar. “If you’ll excuse us for a just a second,” she said, pulling Jessica down from her perch.
My father swept his hand out for them to pass by. “Of course. Don’t forget you promised me the story of that time you two went to Vegas.” He winked as they passed.
The two women walked arm in arm, laughing, toward the back of the bar before disappearing out of view. In a second, he rounded on me, yanking on my arm and pulling me closer. “What the fuck is wrong with you, tonight?” he growled near my shoulder, keeping his voice lowered.
