Sweet Victory (Fighting for Love)

by Gina L. Maxwell

  “Xander, I… I’m really sorry.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in self disgust. “I can’t believe I let this go so far. I never should have involved you in my problems. You don’t deserve any of this, but I ignored my common sense in favor of my selfish needs to show the court a legitimate marriage. There’s no excuse for taking advantage of you like this.”

  Xander scrubbed his hands over his face a few times before pushing them back through his hair, making it stick up in wild tufts. “Soph, you didn’t take advantage of me for Christ’s sake. I was the one barging into your office and suggesting we get married. Or have you forgotten all of that?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” She felt the tears slip down her cheeks and she hated them. Hated that she couldn’t seem to give this apology and admission in stoic strength like Grams would have done. “We can’t go through with this. Tomorrow I’m going to contact the courts and admit everything. I’ll have the marriage annulled and start moving my things out.”

  “Like hell you are.”

  “Xander—”

  “No, Sophie, it’s your turn to listen. I started this whole thing, and contrary to the way I’ve acted, I don’t regret doing it.”

  “No offense, but if the last week has been you not regretting our arrangement, then I really don’t want to see how you are in a few months when we start getting on each other’s nerves like normal roommates.”

  He plowed a hand through his hair and gave it a firm tug before releasing it. “I know I’ve been acting like a jackass all week, but it has nothing to do with regretting marrying you or moving you into my flat. It’s…” Expelling a long breath, he continued. “It’s been a long while since I’ve had a roommate and I reacted poorly to the adjustment. That’s all it is, I swear. You did nothing to provoke my bad behavior. I was completely out of line, and I’m truly sorry. Can you forgive me?”

  A strange mix of empathy for the adjustment and disbelief that was the real problem—at least that it was the only problem—filled Sophie. “Of course I can, but I still think I should put a stop to all this,” she argued. “It’s not fair to you.”

  “Fuck that,” he said. “What’s not fair is your uncle yanking that house out from under you for his own selfish gain. I refuse to let him or anyone else take advantage of your situation and destroy the dream you built with your grandmother. I’m in this for the long haul, Soph, so you can stop talking about doing the ‘honorable’ thing and letting me off the hook. Yeah?”

  She gave him a watery smile and small nod. “Okay, yeah.”

  “Good. Now run on off to bed before I toss you over my shoulder and carry you there myself.”

  Happy their flirty banter was back, she gave him a devilish smile and poured the sugar on thick. “Go right ahead. But I guarantee you wouldn’t like where my kicking feet line up on your body.”

  Xander laughed. “Fair enough.”

  She held her breath as he briefly pressed his lips to her forehead.

  “Get some sleep, wife. I’ll see you later.”

  …

  “Reid says you’re in the best shape of your life. That’s what I like to hear, Xan. Keep that up and your chances of getting back to the big time are that much better. I’m working on some of the smaller sponsors for your upcoming semi-pro fight, but they won’t be enough if we get you a UFC bout.”

  Xander leaned back in his office chair and twirled his stopwatch around his fingers one way, then back the other. He was agitated, but since he couldn’t very well work the bag while talking to his manager, the stopwatch would have to do. “Do you think they’ll come around if I win this next fight?”

  Andy Farmers blew out an audible breath. “It’s hard to say, man. I know how fucking awesome you are, but they’re not there in the gym with you, watching you bust your ass every day, looking better than ever. On paper, you’re just an older fighter who’s returning from an injury that could end your career before it even gets off the ground. It’s a risk putting money behind you until you’ve got a few professional wins behind you.”

  Xander pinched the bridge of his nose and held back the sigh that would alert Andy that he was anything other than confident and ready to conquer the world. “Okay, mate, thanks for the call. Keep me posted.”

  “Will do. And don’t worry; guys pull out of fights all the time. Stay in fighting shape, and you can fill that spot at a moment’s notice. But Xan,” Andy said, injecting a warning tone. “You’ve only got one shot at this. If you’re not ready when an opportunity comes up, they won’t be calling a second time. Too many young, hungry guys out there. You stay focused and train your ass off like you’ve been doing, and we’ll get you there.”

  After they hung up, he left the quiet of his office and returned to the lifting area to finish up his workout. The guys had a playlist of heavy metal and screamo blaring through the speakers, complemented by the clanging of weights echoing in the cavernous gym. As he laid back on the bench press and started his set, his agent’s parting words echoed through his head.

  You stay focused and train your ass off like you’ve been doing, and we’ll get you there.

  Was that what he’d been doing? He wasn’t so sure anymore. He definitely busted his arse during his training with Reid for the first six hours of his day, and then he would get in a second workout after he finished with his clients for the evening.

  But in the last week alone, he’d skipped that second workout three different times because he wanted to get home to Sophie.

  Xander blew out a breath of frustration, replaced the bar on the rack above him, and sat up. He grabbed the small towel and his water bottle from the floor, then took a large drink and wiped the sweat from his face and chest. It was a good thing Reid wasn’t around today or he’d give Xan shit about his lack of focus. He was so in his head, it had taken a few tries for people to get his attention. Luckily it was just a weight training day, so it didn’t matter all that much if his brain checked out.

  Or rather, checked in elsewhere.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about the night before with Sophie. She’d almost walked out on him, and the panic he’d felt at even the mention of it had him analyzing things to death. And when he wasn’t doing that, he was picturing how the wee female had looked dressed only in tight shorts that barely existed past the curve in her gorgeous arse…and his shirt.

  Xander choked back a groan, grabbed his rope, and started jumping while his mind continued to replay the images of Sophie. He’d nearly fucking lost it when he saw her tank plastered to her breasts, her nipples tight and straining against the wet material. Giving her his shirt had been a necessity. If she didn’t change into something dry and baggy immediately, things would have turned bad. Or very, very good, depending on one’s outlook.

  He’d wanted to peel the shirt from her and lick every last drop of milk from her skin. Lave it from the curves of her breasts and the tips of her taut nipples before sucking them deep and working them over with teeth and tongue until she cried out and begged him to sate the thirst that was driving them both stark raving mad. It’d been safer to be irritated with her and keep his distance than deal with the powerful need for her begging him to sate it.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never been anything but charming to the fairer sex. Instead, he’d acted immature, like a school lad pulling on the pigtails of the girl he fancied so his mates wouldn’t catch on and take the piss at his expense, upsetting her in the process. He needed his bloody arse kicked.

  Xander cringed as he remembered the lame excuse he’d given for his behavior. Though he had gotten used to having everything the way he liked it after living with his not-as-particular-where-he-dropped-things friend, Irish, Xan’s recent problem had nothing to do with adjusting to her tendencies for the same habit.

  It did, however, have everything to do with wanting to pin her against the nearest wall. But he’d agreed to not go there with her, and as much as he might want to, he wasn’t going to be the one to
change the rules, no matter how much it killed him or made his balls ache. He’d almost fucked that up, too. Another second and his mouth would have been on hers, claiming her body the way she’d claimed his thoughts nearly every waking moment for the last week.

  He wanted to respect her wishes for a platonic relationship, and he damn well would. He’d show her that not all men thought with their dicks. Just thinking about the pain in her deep brown eyes when she told him about her ex made him want to go twelve rounds with a heavy bag. Xan couldn’t imagine how anyone could intentionally hurt a woman as amazing as Sophie like that. She wasn’t even his, and somehow she’d gotten under his skin in ways he never thought possible.

  “Hey there, Xan,” a sugary feminine voice said from behind him.

  He turned to see one of the few female members of TLP2 sauntering over to him, her hips swinging in her tight workout shorts and her fake tits barely contained by her skimpy sports bra. Tami had a reputation—one she didn’t bother hiding—for sleeping with the fighters like she was collecting their cocks for her trophy room. The blonde was fit as hell, and though he’d been tempted to give in on more than one occasion, Xander never mixed pleasure and business. Unfortunately, his refusals only served to make him more of a challenge to her.

  He held back a sigh and instead gave her a friendly smile. “Hey, Tami, how are you?”

  Her Angelina Jolie lips formed a practiced pout that probably got her what she wanted on the regular. “I’d be a lot better if you’d come over tonight.” Her pout morphed into a saucy grin that screamed of mischief and promised pleasures as she stepped in close and trailed a long fingernail down his chest. “I’m dying for you to show me your submission moves outside of the octagon.”

  His cock didn’t even stir at the idea of rolling around on the mats with the leggy woman. Xander grabbed her hand and pulled it from his body. “I’ve told you before, I don’t fool around with members.”

  Releasing a heavy exhale, she placed her hands on her hips. “Okay, fine. I like coming here, but your fine British ass is worth it. I’ll find a new gym. See you around eight?”

  She was determined, he’d give her that. Smiling, he said the words out loud for the first time and drew her attention to the silicone band on his left hand. “Sorry, Tami, but I’m a married man now. My heart—and my moves—belong to my wife.” He bit back a laugh when her mouth fell open in shock. “No hard feelings, though, okay? Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my training. Have a good workout.”

  Xan crossed the room and started wrapping his hands. And as he worked through the rest of his routine, he thought about the gorgeous woman who’d be at his place when he was done. Starting today, he’d make sure their time spent together was easy and fun, like it’d always been. He was a fake husband on a mission to have a companionable, live-in friendship with his fake wife, and he couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Eight

  150 days left

  The last of the Sunday church crowd had been gone for a good half hour. This was the time they not so affectionately called the Dead Zone. Since the majority of their customers were senior citizens, once they all went home for the day, the bakery typically had an hour or so before closing when customers were few and far between, if any.

  Sophie and Kristin had a standing “date” on Sundays to chat and catch up. They grabbed their caffeine of choice and headed out to one of the small round tables in the front with Sophie pausing to swipe a grape sucker first.

  “Ohhhhhh yeah,” Kristin sighed as she sat. “Billy is so giving me a back rub tonight. I think I tweaked a hammy lifting the bag of flour this morning.”

  Sophie pulled the wrapper off her sucker and put the candy in her mouth. “Your hamstring is the muscle on the back of your thigh.”

  “It is?” Reaching up she pulled out the decorative sticks holding her hair in place and shook her head until her cascade of blond-to-pink fell freely around her shoulders. “Well, whatever it’s called back there, I’m getting Mr. Magic Fingers to fix it.”

  “This is one of those rare moments when I’m envious of your relationship. I wouldn’t mind having a Mr. Magic Fingers once in a while.”

  “Last I checked, you have one of those for at least another five months.”

  “I told you, it’s not like that. We agreed that adding sex to the equation would only complicate the situation.” Sophie pulled her sucker out with one hand and lifted her coffee cup with the other. She took a long sip then stuck the candy back in. “We’re like college roommates more than anything. We’re friends and we have a good time hanging out, but it doesn’t need to go beyond that.”

  Kristin’s perfect brows drew together and one side of her upper lip curled. It looked like she couldn’t decide if she was baffled or disgusted. “First, that’s a terrible analogy because any boy-girl roommate situation in the history of college ended up screwing at least once. And B—”

  “Second.”

  “What?”

  “You can’t say ‘B.’ You have to say ‘second’ because you started with ‘first.’”

  “Soph, don’t make me bitch slap you.”

  “Okay, sorry, what’s B?”

  “And second”—Sophie rolled her eyes—“how can you be living under the same roof as that British mega stud for a month and not be banging his brains out? The sexual tension between you two is so palpable that after Xander leaves, I have to call Billy for some release el telephono so I don’t explode all over the damn truffles.”

  Sophie’s eyes opened wide. “Oh my God, KP. That’s why you’ve been calling Billy so much lately?” She thought back over the last couple weeks and realized her friend had always returned from her office with a healthy pink flush in her cheeks. “Ew! In the office?”

  “Don’t change the subject,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at Sophie. “Why aren’t you taking advantage of your situation? I know damn well it isn’t his choice. That boy wants to pounce on you like a damn jungle cat.”

  Speaking of flushing cheeks. Kristin’s choice of metaphors echoed what Sophie had told Xander the day he took her to TLP2. And now her cheeks weren’t the only part of her feeling heated. Clearing her throat, she pretended to pick lint from her jeans and hoped like hell her body would calm the fuck down.

  Living with Xander hadn’t been nearly as easy as she tried to make it sound. The part about it feeling like they were roommates living together due to circumstance was true. But there was nothing easy and companionable about their time together. Sure they laughed and had fun—it was impossible not to with Xander. He was funny and animated and charming…

  She sighed inwardly.

  …and thoughtful and a great cook and sweet and ripped and sex on a stick…

  Kristin was right. No matter what they were doing or talking about, there was a constant undercurrent of sexual tension. So far, he hadn’t made any overt moves to start anything, which was refreshing…and maybe a tad disappointing. But mostly refreshing.

  Liar.

  Shut up.

  Manning up, Sophie looked her friend in the eyes and removed her sucker. “I don’t want to confuse the already crazy situation we’re in. Sex changes things. If we start having sex, then we’re bound to develop feelings for each other even if we don’t mean to, and then when this is all over, one or both of us are going to get hurt.”

  “Or what if you have sex, develop feelings for each other, and decide to start dating for real after you get divorced?”

  They both paused and stared at each other before bursting out into easy laughter.

  “Leave it up to me to do things the opposite of what normal society expects.”

  “Hey,” Kristin scolded, “there’s nothing normal about you, sugar, and that’s just the way I like it, so don’t you go acting like it’s a bad thing. As for what I said, I’m serious, Soph. You can’t honestly think that the two of you are going to last another five months skirting around each other without hittin’ it. You’ll end up with
a broken vaj that can’t get excited for anything without batteries and Xander’s right arm and hand will end up grossly overworked and virtually unusable, costing him his MMA career.”

  Sophie stared in wide-eyed wonder at her best friend. “Dramatic much?”

  Drama Queen sat back and draped an arm over the back of her chair with a smug look on her face. “Better to be dramatic than chickenshit.”

  “Excuse me? Whose side are you on?”

  “Yours, Soph. You need to let go of the past and stop thinking every guy out there is like Jared. They’re not.”

  Sophie’s body automatically tensed at her ex’s name. Kristin reached across the table and placed her hand over Sophie’s. Her friend didn’t often get mushy-philosophical, but when she did, the woman had an annoying tendency to lay down some wise shit.

  The bell above the door jingled and a middle-aged man walked through the door. Sophie removed her sucker with a sigh and stuck it to the plastic cover on her coffee. At least she was getting out of the conversation.

  “I’ll get it,” Kristin said and headed for the counter. The reprieve lasted just long enough for her to take the man’s order, pour him a coffee, and show him right back out the door when he tried to linger. Sophie groaned. The guy, all dark and skulking, wasn’t a regular. Not that he’d want to be after that glowing display of customer service. She didn’t even try to sell him the special batch of quadruple chocolate truffles Sophie had whipped up that morning.

  “Xander is not like that other asshole,” her friend said, slipping back into her seat and picking up right where she left off. “This man barged into your office and pretended to be your fiancé because he couldn’t stand the way Richard spoke to you. And let’s not forget that he fake-real married you to help you save your Grams’s legacy. He could have said ‘Damn, that sucks’ and continued on his merry way, but instead, he did the unthinkable.”

  Sophie massaged the bridge of her nose. “I know he’s not a deceitful snake like Jared was, but he’s definitely not a choirboy, either. He’s been around the block a time or ten, and I know women still text him. Two even thought showing up without an invitation was a good idea.” She scoffed. “Who just shows up at people’s houses like that anymore? They’re lucky I even answered the door.”