“You let me get into your head, my friend. You fight like an angry little baby. Why you come back to my gym and waste my time?” Raoul shook his head in disgust.
“Fuck you,” Randy replied, more irritated with himself than Raoul. Why was he there? He’d been out of the ring for almost a year and hadn’t missed it.
“I don’t fuck little babies,” Raoul replied. The Velcro on the wrists of his gloves growled as he removed them then tossed them onto a ringside chair.
“Shit, man, I wasn’t that bad.”
“My mother has faster reflexes than you,” Raoul taunted, “and she passed away ten years ago.”
“Well, that’s why I’m here, asshole. I need you to get me back in shape.” He tore off his gloves and rubbed the sore ribs. How could he explain the wreckage of his life with mere words? Somewhere over the past year, he’d lost his edge and morphed into a drunken loser. He didn’t want to be that guy anymore.
“You need to focus. Watch what you eat. No more pizza.” Raoul gave Randy a playful slap on the stomach. “Run every day. And lay off the drinking. Garbage in, garbage out. You understand, mijo?”
Randy nodded. Raoul grabbed a clean towel from the stack next to the ring and handed it to Randy but didn’t let go of it, demanding his attention. “I said, you understand?"
“I heard you. Garbage in, garbage out. Wax on, wax off.” Randy yanked the towel from his trainer’s hand and used it to wipe the rivulets of sweat still pouring down his face.
Raoul studied him with black soulful eyes. He was one of those guys who looked ageless. Not a gray hair on his black head. Fine lines crinkled the corners of his eyes. He could be anywhere from mid-thirties to late forties. With a thick barrel chest and a glow of good health, the guy lived what he preached and expected his trainees to follow his rules.
“You never answered me. Why you come into my gym and waste my time? You getting ready to go to the streets again?” Raoul’s face split into a wide mocking grin. "Or maybe you in love?”
“Maybe I just missed your smart mouth.” Randy scrubbed his face again with the towel to hide the desperation in his eyes. Flashes of Pilar and Caleb with Mitch twisted his heart. All these emotions and shit eating him up from the inside out. Fuck if Raoul wasn't right. He was a little baby.
Raoul heaved a sigh as he tossed his towel into the hamper then reached for a bottle of water from the cooler and handed it to Randy.
“What’s it matter?” Randy asked.
Raoul’s expression softened with genuine affection and understanding. He clapped Randy on the back. “I know how it is, my friend. I have three boys of my own, remember? And Lupe? She’s pregnant again.”
“No shit? Another kid? Congratulations.”
“I’ll see what I can do. I can have you in shape again. Six weeks maybe.”
“Two.”
A look of delight spread over Raoul’s features. “Maybe four. If you do the work.”
“I thought I was slower than your dead mother.”
“Ah, well, she ain’t dead, just moved to Arizona.” Raoul’s face split into a mischievous grin. “And you ain’t dead, either. Just fat and slow and lazy. I can help you with that.” He ran an appraising look over Randy's taut abs glistening with sweat. “But the other? The mental? Nobody can fix that but you. I don’t care what you got to do, but you get your head straight. Understood?”
“Understood.” Randy jerked his head in agreement. “You want to go one more round?”
CHAPTER 27
EVEN THOUGH it was late afternoon, the daylight had already begun to wane when she arrived at Randy's gym, totally unprepared for the experience. The dingy old building smelled of sweat and leather. Curious stares followed her. Toby, a man whose neck was the size of her waist, led her through the maze of corridors. As they passed the open door of the locker room, she caught a flash of bare buttocks and focused on Toby's broad back. The air rang with muffled grunts, curses, and the soft thud of punches thrown from gloved hands.
Toby stopped inside the door and jerked his head to the ring, where two men were sparring. They were magnificent specimens of male beauty—tall and graceful. It wasn't until Toby shouted, "Hey, Mackenzie! There’s a girl here to see you," that she realized one of those men was Randy.
"Hey, kitten," Randy said, without looking at her. The casual endearment shimmered over her and sent heat rushing into her cheeks. He touched gloves with his partner and bent to take a drink of water from the bottle his trainer handed to him before turning to face her. From the mat, he towered over her, larger than life, hair dark with sweat. Pumped from physical exertion, every one of the numerous muscles in his torso was visible, including the delectable V-cut above the low-slung waistband of his shorts. As he moved toward her, sinew and tendon rippled like rocks beneath water.
Damn, damn, damn… Her gaze locked on a bead of sweat that trickled down his neck and over the swell of pecs and abs. She held her breath when it disappeared into the waistband of his shorts. From within her haze, she heard someone say her name—twice.
"What?" She tore her gaze away from his body and found him staring at her with concern as he released the Velcro straps of his gloves with his teeth. He pulled the gloves off and tossed them to the trainer.
"I said, give me a minute to change and I'll be right out." He grabbed a T-shirt from one of the ropes, slid it over his head then jumped to the floor. She could smell the sweat as he passed by, inhaling deeply through her nose. Even his sweat smelled heavenly.
"Um, okay. I'll just wait up front." Still dazzled by his presence, she took a step back and stumbled into a chair leg.
Randy stopped, turned, and frowned. "Are you alright?" He touched the back of a hand to her cheek. "You're really flushed."
Yeah, with sexual frustration. Forcing down the lump in her throat with a hard swallow, she took a deep breath and nodded her head.
"Have you eaten anything today?" Unconvinced, he searched her face, eyes dark with concern.
"No. Not since this morning." The answering growl of her stomach confirmed her response. Food had been the last thing on her mind over the afternoon.
The dark gaze swept over her, filled with an unidentified emotion. Before she could decipher the look, it was gone and replaced by the good-humored, impersonal face he wore most of the time. "Okay. Well, let's go get some dinner. That workout gave me an appetite."
"I’m good, really. I don't want to keep you from…things.” Recovering her senses, she gave him a polite smile.
He snorted, grabbed her arm, and turned her toward the lobby. "Seriously, Karly? When a dude offers to buy you dinner, you should just say thanks."
CHAPTER 28
THEY WALKED to the diner down the street. Randy watched her from the corner of his eye as they took a booth next to the window. There was something different about her. She seemed fine at the gym, but the moment they walked out the door she became quiet and introspective, answering his questions with one-word answers or silence. How could he blame her? In fact, he was surprised she’d agreed to dinner when the expression on her face clearly suggested her mind was elsewhere. Served him right for being such a dick the night before.
“My hands are freezing,” she said, shivering.
He helped her out of her coat and hung it on the stand next to their booth. She slid into the seat, and he took the place across from her. When she shivered a second time, he reached beneath the table and took her hands in his, rubbing them to restore the heat. The bones of her fingers were fragile and small in his large grasp. An adorable pink flush spread over her cheeks, and she ducked her head.
“You’re like a furnace,” she said.
“You know what they say? Cold hands, warm heart,” he said. The frost left her fingers, but he didn’t let go of her. It felt right to sit with her like that. They smiled at each other across the table.
The waitress appeared and dropped menus in front of them. Karly pulled her hands from his grasp, taking her smile and the brigh
tness of her gaze along with it. He mourned their loss. She scanned over the items and closed the menu.
“Get whatever you like. Everything is good here,” he said.
Her lips curved upward, but the smile never reached her eyes. The sudden change bewildered him. He missed her inner light, and wondered what he’d done to chase it away. She ordered the special of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans with a chocolate shake. He ordered a salad and four grilled chicken breasts with cottage cheese on the side and water with lemon. They made idle conversation until the waitress returned with their food.
“Are you on a special diet or something?” She glanced from his plate to hers and frowned.
He patted his taut abdomen and sat back in his seat, their knees bumping beneath the table. “Naw. Cutting out carbs so I can get back into shape.”
“Back into shape? You’ve got more muscles in your little finger than I have in my entire body.”
The waitress set a tall fountain glass on the table in front of her, filled to the top with frosty chocolatey goodness and topped with whipped cream.
Karly took a sip from the straw and sighed. “Mmmm, so good. Are you sure you don’t want some?”
“No. Thanks. Help yourself.”
A dab of whipped cream clung to her lower lip. His fingers curled with the desire to reach across the table and brush over the pouty mouth. When her tongue darted out and swept the cream away, he sat back in disappointment and contented himself with watching her eat, taking perverse pleasure from her little moans and sighs of delight. She cleaned her plate, sopping up the remaining gravy with a dinner roll. She paused mid-bite, biscuit suspended in front of her, and returned it to her plate.
“I’m a pig, aren’t I?” She frowned and looked down at the table. "I’m just so hungry.”
“You are fucking adorable, Karly,” he said. “I could watch you eat all day.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t look at him. “Do you want more? We could get something to go.”
Beneath the table, her leg slid forward between his. She left it there, slim thigh rubbing against the denim of his jeans. A zing of excitement jolted through his thigh.
“Do you ever talk to Mitch?” she asked. Her eyes lifted to meet his, searching his face.
The question caught him off guard. He shoved back in his seat to get a little perspective. “Not if I can help it.” Any mention of Mitch’s name sent his blood into a heated simmer. The expression on Karly’s face seemed innocuous enough, but the firm set of her jaw suggested something deeper lurked beneath the question. Was she fishing for information to give Pilar? Maybe he’d made a huge error in judgment by trusting her. If only she would look him in the eyes, he could read her motives a little better. “Why do you ask?”
The air shifted between them. She fiddled with her silverware, straightening the utensils. A full minute stretched past. He used the time to gather his thoughts. At last, he dropped his napkin next to his plate and leaned an elbow on the table.
“Whatever it is, Karly, just say it,” he said with a little more edge than he intended.
The startled gaze of dove gray eyes met his darker ones with unexpected impact. A flash of confusion, anger, and desperation flickered through their soft depths before she cast her eyes down again.
“I haven’t talked to him in months and now something…something’s come up that I need to discuss with him. I tried to call him today, but he must have changed his number. I thought maybe you had it or could get it for me.” She bit her lower lip and frowned before speaking. “I feel weird asking, but it's really important.”
“I didn’t realize you guys weren’t in touch. I suppose I can ask Pilar. She’s not exactly thrilled with me right now. So I can’t promise anything.” He tapped a quick text to Pilar into his phone.
“I appreciate it.” This time Karly’s smile held a little of its former brightness and caused a strange tightness in his chest.
“No problem. Just don’t be surprised if she doesn’t reply.” He slid the phone into his pocket. “Is it anything I can help with?”
“You’ve already done more than enough for me,” she replied. “Unless……do you know of a good attorney? I could use some legal advice about Emma.”
“Yes, actually, I do.” He dug into his wallet before handing her a business card. “This guy is good.”
“Great. Thanks.” She took the card and held it between thumb and forefinger like it might explode. He waited for her to explain or offer more information, but she only slid the card into her purse. Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, "Is Emma okay?”
“She’s fine.” Karly’s smile tightened. The glimmer of tears in her eyes belied her reassuring words. There was much more going on inside her pretty head than she revealed. He burned to know what it was. “I’d really like to have her come live with me. My parents aren’t exactly ideal role models.”
He nodded, flattered to have her confidence and determined to keep it. “Mitch never said much about them, but I got the feeling things weren’t good there. Have you talked to them about taking Emma?”
“I have, and it didn’t go well.” She toyed with a sugar packet. “Hence the need for an attorney.”
When she tugged her lower lip between her teeth, the worried gesture caused tightness in his chest. He wanted to rub his thumb over the fullness of her mouth and ease away her tension, but all he could do was sit across from her, mute and helpless, like an emotionally stunted fucktard. Tasha’s words hit their mark for a second time. Why couldn’t he speak the thoughts whirling in his head? What the hell was wrong with him? This was his chance to win her trust. He couldn’t let the opportunity pass without giving it a shot.
“But I’m sure you don’t want to listen to my sad stories,” she continued. In the space of a heartbeat, his window of opportunity slammed shut and left him standing outside in the cold. “I suppose we should get out of here.” She slid out of the booth. “Thank you so much for everything today. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
“I’m sure we can work something out,” he said and cringed at the implication. “Damn. That sounded creepy. I just meant…it’s no big deal.”
She laughed, a genuine, heartfelt sound, rewarding him. His eyes met hers, and the light he found there stole a tiny piece of his heart.
CHAPTER 29
A FEW days later at precisely nine o’clock in the morning, a tremendous banging brought Karly straight out of bed. With her heart hammering in her chest, it took a few seconds for her to realize the sound wasn’t a zombie apocalypse raining terror upon the city, but someone knocking on the front door of her apartment. She groaned, rolled over, and tucked the blanket around her head, eyes squeezed tight against the light streaming through her bedroom window.
The banging escalated, forcing her from sleep. She swung her feet onto the floor, threw on a robe, and padded to the door. A peep through the keyhole revealed an inquisitive eye looking back at her. Only one person had eyes that shade of jade green—Ally. Karly opened the door. Ally stood in the hall dressed like she was bound for the Arctic Circle in snow suit and boots. Behind her loomed the silhouette of Jack. Karly shifted to the left, beckoning them inside with a sweep of her arm, when she spied a third person lurking around the corner. Her heart flipped as Randy moved into view, broad-shouldered and solemn.
"Were you still in bed?" Ally asked as she pulled off her mittens.
"It’s barely daylight," Karly grumbled and tightened the belt of her robe. Even without looking at him, she could feel Randy's sharp gaze on her body. She ran a self-conscious hand through the tangles of her hair. “This better be some kind of emergency."
“It is,” Jack replied, mischief in his tone. “It’s a snow-fucking-emergency."
"Go get dressed." Ally's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "We've come to kidnap you."
"I don't think so," Karly muttered. How anyone could be so chipper in the morning was beyond her. She needed coffee and a shower before she could even t
hink about being civilized.
"We won't take no for an answer." Ally turned Karly around by the shoulders and gave her a small shove toward the bedroom. "Now, put on some warm clothes and hurry up. We're going sledding."
"Sledding?" Despite her grogginess, Karly's inner child perked up. She hadn't been sledding since seventh grade. Back then, before her father’s drinking problem and her mother’s withdrawal from life, her family had made every significant snowfall into a delightful event. Memories of laughter and hijinks, making snow angels and snowmen, seemed like flashes of someone else’s life. "I need coffee," she said.
Randy stepped forward and thrust a Styrofoam cup toward her. "Here. I thought you might say that. It’s a caramel cappuccino." Her favorite drink. He'd been paying attention.
"And we've got hot chocolate in the truck,” Ally added.
"And I've got this," Jack said, revealing a silver flask from the inside pocket of his coat.
"I don't know…" She frowned, torn between a day of fun and a day of duty. The job search never ended, and neither did homework.
"Come on. You know you want to." Jack raised an eyebrow and gave her one of his movie star smiles, complete with dimples. "Besides, Ally won't go unless you do. You know how she is—stick up her ass and all that." Ally turned and gave Jack a playful punch on the arm. "It's taken me a week to convince her to try it."
"You've never been sledding before?" Karly asked.
Never a risk-taker, Ally shook her head, a slight furrow deepening between her brows. Of course she hadn't. Her father had never really been around when she was a child, and she didn't have siblings. Ally's version of fun was a ten-key calculator and a backlog of unpaid invoices.
"My grandparents really weren't into it," Ally said with a shrug.
Jack grabbed her and pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her waist, and gave her a kiss on the top of her toboggan. The furrow in her brow dissolved into a soft smile. "Well, we're going to fix that today, aren't we, babe?" he asked.
Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5) Page 40
