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Winning Love

Page 2

by Abby Niles


  Her eyes eased up his body with such appreciation he felt it all the way to his groin. Another husky chuckle came from her as she turned her head back around. The seductive sway of her jeans-covered backside held him captivated. Mac shook himself, appalled he was gawking.

  He spun on his friend. “She’s trouble, Lance.”

  “Gayle? Ah, you’ll love her.”

  “Really? What could I possibly have in common with someone that young? For that matter, what do you have in common with her? For God’s sake, Lance, she’s teetering on the edge of jailbait for guys like us.”

  Lance laughed. “Dude, she’s thirty-two.”

  Mac whipped his head back toward her. She and Lance’s little girl had made their way to the side of the house. She was only four years younger than him? “No way.”

  “Way. She has a damn doctorate in meteorology or something to that effect. But don’t feel bad, okay? I made the same mistake when I met her. I even asked where her parents were after she moved in. I got the same amused reaction. She knew you thought she was young. She’s a lot of fun. She doesn’t have a filter, though. So be prepared.”

  Okay, so the age difference was a no-go as a reason to stay the fuck away from her. Damn it, he didn’t like that. Didn’t like his reaction to her. He needed something negative to focus on. She seemed to be a handful. Two handfuls, actually. And he didn’t have time for a handful. Or any woman, for that matter. “I don’t need to prepare, because I’m not going.”

  “Come on, Mac. She doesn’t bite.” He nudged him. “Unless you want her to.”

  Mac jerked back, scowling. “I don’t want her to bite anything. I have absolutely zero interest in women.”

  Except for just now. And it completely freaked his shit.

  His friend sobered. “Wait. Are you telling me you haven’t dated at all since… It’s been over four years, Mac.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “I knew it.” Lance scratched the back of his head and gave a derisive snort. “I told Piper she was wrong, but I let her convince me otherwise. Damn it.”

  At his friend’s sudden change in attitude, Mac’s defensive shield locked into place. “What the fuck are you talking about, man?”

  “That cold motherfucker I’ve been watching on the TV for the last few years. The one who is short with reporters. Never smiles. That’s not for show. That’s who you are now.” Lance glared at Mac. “I told you to stay here. That leaving your home wasn’t going to fix anything, but you were adamant. Now look at you…you didn’t heal. You’re hollow. Lifeless. Ally would be horrified.”

  Rage erupted so quickly he charged forward, raising his fist to slam it into Lance’s disapproving face. At the last second, he made himself stop, and instead grabbed a handful of shirt and tugged him forward until their noses almost touched. He said between gritted teeth, “If you’ve got a problem with the way I’ve dealt with my wife’s death, I’ll be more than fucking happy to leave.”

  The man didn’t even flinch, just gave another snort as he shook his head. “Man, you really have changed. In almost thirty years of friendship you have never raised a fist at me in anger.”

  Stunned, Mac jerked back. Jesus. He’d never snapped like that. “Lance, I—”

  “So, that’s it,” he interrupted. “That’s how you’ve coped. You beat the shit out of people—legally.”

  Anger started to fester again. “You know what? Fuck you, man. I didn’t come here for a goddamn intervention. It’s my fucking life, and I’m fine with the way it is.” He took an aggressive step forward and pointed a finger at him. “People change, buddy. If you can’t handle that, that’s your deal, not mine. Just count yourself lucky your life has been so perfect you haven’t been forced to change to cope.”

  “My life has been anything but perfect, and you would know that if you’d checked in at all over the last four years. But you haven’t. The few times I called, you rushed me off the phone because you were too busy becoming”—Lance’s chin notched up—“Mac ‘The Snake’ Hannon.” Distaste coated his voice as he used Mac’s fighter name. “It’s time for you to get reacquainted with just plain old Mac Hannon.”

  They squared off for a few moments, then Mac muttered a string of curses and stormed toward the house. He didn’t need this shit. Had he known this was what he was in for, he would’ve said to hell with debts owed and found a reason to stay the fuck at home. Lance didn’t know him anymore, and it was complete bullshit for him to believe Mac would be the same person. So he preferred solitude to hanging out. Who gave a fuck? He wasn’t hurting anybody.

  So he took his anger out on his opponent in the cage. Who the hell cared how he beat his opponent, as long as he did?

  If Lance pushed this, Mac would find the first flight back to Atlanta.

  Eight thirty.

  He wasn’t coming. Mac Broom-Shoved-Up-His-Ass Hannon.

  Gayle twisted her lips in annoyance. Not that she was really surprised. The man had been uppity to the point of humor. But if he thought for one second she’d let him off the hook, he had another think coming. Gayle Matthews didn’t back away from a challenge—and unknowingly, he’d issued a very exciting one she couldn’t ignore.

  After making the trek to Lance’s place, she stomped up the porch steps and rapped on the door.

  As Lance answered, an amused snort came from him and he shook his head. “I should’ve known it was you.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “You know I admire your tenacity, right?”

  “Uh-oh. Did the terrified fighter make you pinky swear that the next time you saw me you would convince me he wasn’t interested?” He chuckled, but it quickly faded to a seriousness so unlike him it put her on alert. “What, Lance?”

  “Listen, I know you. You’re going to do what you’re going to do. I can’t stop you. Hell, you might be exactly what Mac needs. Just be careful, okay?”

  The warning intrigued her. “What are you saying that you’re not saying?”

  “He’s damaged, Gayle. I don’t know this Mac, and I don’t know what he is capable of if he’s pushed into a corner. I’m not telling you to back off, because honestly, I think he could use a good dose of you, just…tread carefully.”

  So the grrr-worthy fighter was damaged goods. That worked to her advantage and made him safer for her. The last two men she’d enjoyed a few weeks of fun with had been too emotionally available—a mistake she didn’t plan to make again. “Message received.”

  Over his shoulder, Lance yelled, “Mac!”

  A few seconds later, the man himself trotted down the stairs. He’d exchanged the soaked shirt that had given her a panty-wetting glimpse of the hard muscles underneath for a black wife-beater that displayed his powerful arms very nicely. A Celtic half-sleeve decorated one bicep and the curve of his shoulder with different shades of black and gray.

  For the second time that day, her breath caught tight. When she’d come around the side of the house, she’d been stunned at the towering hunk of male hotness before her. She’d known Lance was going to pick up a friend who was helping him train, knew this man would probably be as attractive as Lance, but the reality of Mac blew her imagination to smithereens.

  Tall, possibly six-four, nothing but bulging muscles. Dark brown hair topped his head and was a little long, so a strand fell onto his forehead.

  As he approached the door, she didn’t miss the clench of his jaw or the slowing of his steps.

  Undeterred, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, it’s rude to stand a woman up.”

  He mimicked her stance. “I believe I told you I had better things to do.”

  “And I believe I told you eight o’clock.”

  A moment of shock lit his brown eyes. He seemed to catch the slip and put his grumpy face back on.

  “Now, come on. The sun is about to set. The food is past cold and I didn’t slave away at a stove for nothing.”

  She bounced down the steps. No footsteps followed. She twisted
and lifted a brow. He was still rooted to the spot. The mask had completely fallen off, revealing an interesting amount of reluctance. She turned all the way around and tilted her head to study him. How could a man who looked like him have a second of hesitation at being alone with a woman? Lance had said he was damaged. Just how bad was it?

  Mac glanced at Lance, who had his eyes narrowed on him. Tension crackled between the two men. Oh. Something had happened here.

  “Gayle is a fixture at my house,” Lance said. “You might as well get used to her. She’s going to be around.”

  She could almost hear his teeth grind. “Fine.”

  Gayle hid a smile of triumph and started walking. This time, footsteps followed her. She didn’t slow her pace or look behind her. When she reached her yard, she went around the side of the house toward the back.

  Those footsteps stopped. “Where are you going?”

  She didn’t slow, nor did she respond, just headed for the four-wheeler ATV parked outside her backdoor with a picnic basket strapped to the back. She hiked the hem of the sundress she’d changed into to mid-thigh and climbed on. Twisting, she patted the area behind her.

  Mac stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  She revved the engine and inched the four-wheeler forward until she was by his side.

  “Lance is right, you know. I’m not going away, so you might as well give me what I want. I promise to be on my best behavior…at least for tonight.”

  As his gaze roamed over her face, his brows pulled together in a fierce frown. “You have laugh lines.”

  To keep a burst of laughter in, she pressed her lips together and then worked her face into a serious expression. “It’s never nice to point out a woman’s wrinkles. Though, if we’re being honest with each other, you could use a few laugh lines.” She circled her index finger in front of his face. “You’ve got that curmudgeon look down to a science.”

  Again those lips didn’t even begin to initiate a smile. Wow. Curmudgeon might not be that far off. Not that he appeared old—not with a body like his—but his features carried a haggard edge to them, especially around the eyes. And in those eyes was a sadness that made her wonder what had put it there.

  “Sorry,” he said. “You just seemed so young before. But I can see now you’re not as young as I first thought.”

  Another chuckle tried to erupt. She mock-scowled. “Are you calling me old?”

  Being mistaken for a kid in her early twenties happened on a regular basis. That was, until they got a really good look at her. However, having her crow’s-feet pointed out was a first.

  “I’m just stating an observation.”

  “Fair enough.” She pointedly nodded her head at the ATV. “Get on.”

  Mac muttered, “What the hell,” and climbed on behind her. Muscular thighs surrounded her hips, causing tingles to erupt over her. She wanted to feel his chest pressed into her back, his hands wrapped around her waist, but he didn’t move to hang on to her.

  We’ll see about that. She gunned the four-wheeler forward. As his body jerked back, his thighs instinctively clenched around her and his arms flew around her waist. She smiled.

  Better.

  “Hang on, handsome. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  She took off toward the wheat field that billowed behind the farmhouse. The heat of Mac’s touch seeped through her sundress and she inhaled a pleased breath. When she moved out here from Kansas City, she’d worried she’d have a hard time meeting someone, especially since the very hot Lance didn’t do a thing for her. Not that she would’ve started anything with him even if he had. Having a fling with her neighbor carried the risk of upsetting her day-to-day life. The men she chose to play with were temporaries, and when she moved on, seeing him every day wasn’t an option. Which made Mac perfect. Not only did he make everything inside her come to life, but he was out of here in a few weeks. Just long enough for her to scratch her itch.

  She just had to get him on board—and she would.

  Five minutes later, she stopped in the middle of the field. She loved this spot. It was far enough away from the houses so the artificial light didn’t dim the night sky. With no moon and the sun having set, they were in complete darkness. Stars glittered above them, and the canopy seemed to go on forever.

  She climbed off the ATV and waited for Mac to stand. When he did, she stretched around him, making sure her breasts caressed his arm as she unhooked the picnic basket behind him. Every muscle in the man’s body tensed and he moved back into the same braced position he had when he met her. All he needed to do was bring his fists up next to his cheeks as she’d seen Lance do when he trained and he’d be in fighter mode.

  Interesting.

  Lifting the basket, she flipped on the ATV’s headlight, then carried the picnic things to the lit spot. She pulled a blanket out of the basket and spread it out over the ground.

  As she did so, Mac relaxed his stance.

  So the fighter didn’t like anyone getting near him. Even more interesting.

  “Aren’t you worried about being out here alone with me?” he asked.

  She strolled toward him until she was inches from him. Smiling, she looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. His entire body froze. She walked her fingers up his chest. Instantly, he shifted back into the same stance.

  At his reaction, Gayle chuckled. “Lance has put his stamp of approval on you, so I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” She reached into the pocket of her dress. “Besides, I have this.”

  She dangled the pepper spray from her fingers. Nodding, he grunted in approval. “At least you’re not completely reckless.”

  Good. Lord. Even his praise was grumpy. Luckily for him, that made him all the more entertaining.

  “Are you as hungry as I am?” To toy with him, she put a seductive undertone to the question.

  A deep groove formed as his eyebrows dipped down, his suspicious gaze unwavering. “If you think we—”

  “For food, handsome.” She winked, then walked over to the blanket and sat down. “Since someone was playing hard to get, I’m about an hour late for dinner and starving.”

  A rushed exhale sounded behind her. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

  “Hmm. Has Lance been talking about me?”

  “Just said you don’t have a filter and I needed to prepare.”

  “That’s pretty accurate.”

  Mac finally strolled over to the blanket and sat down. Crickets chirped in the background as she tugged out the fried chicken, potato salad, and green beans. “Thank goodness this stuff is awesome cold. Next time, just show up when I tell you to, okay?”

  “Next time?”

  As she followed the muscular lines of his arms, she bit her lower lip. “If I get my way, there will be.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And I always get my way.”

  A flash of heat warmed the coolness from his eyes, then he glanced off into the distance.

  So, he felt it, too. Good.

  She made Mac a plate and handed it to him. An awkward tension settled between them. He seemed to be filling it by munching on his chicken, but she refused to just sit there mute. If she had to steer the conversation, so be it. “How long have you known Lance?”

  Mac froze, and she got the distinct impression he wasn’t expecting her to speak. Too bad. She loved to talk.

  He swallowed his food and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Since we were kids.”

  “So you know Piper, too?”

  “We all hung out. I take it you know her?”

  “Yeah. Lance has me keep Skylar when he goes out on runs. Today, he could’ve taken Skylar with him to the airport, but he wasn’t sure if there’d be a delay, and Piper was supposed to pick Skylar up.”

  “It’s nice that you help him out.”

  “I believe in community, and there are no better ones than the ones you live beside.”

  Community had been there for her during her darkest days, and she always made sure
to reciprocate.

  “Well, it’s still nice of you.”

  “Lance mentioned you were going to help him train. I’m sad to say, I don’t really follow MMA.”

  “Not a fan, huh?”

  She had the man talking. Holy hell.

  “I’m not not a fan. I’ve just never really watched it.”

  “Not even with Lance as your neighbor?”

  “Nope.” Again she let her eyes do the talking as she surveyed the very male body beside her. “However, I think I’m a little more interested now.”

  Red crept into his cheeks, and she thought it was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Such a strong, imposing man embarrassed by a little compliment.

  She turned her gaze to the sky. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Doesn’t look like this in Atlanta. I’d forgotten how endless the night sky is out here.”

  Will wonders never cease? Had there been a hint of awe in the curmudgeon’s voice?

  Since she was on a roll, she asked, “When did you move to Georgia?”

  His body tensed, jaw clenched. Okay. Touchy subject.

  “Almost four years ago.”

  “Ah. Won any major titles out there?”

  She kept close tabs on his body language. His muscles relaxed as he turned his head toward her. “Nope. One day, maybe, but my usual opponents are extraordinary fighters who are all out to win a title fight.”

  “Humble. I like that.”

  “It’s the truth of the business.” He placed his empty plate beside him. “I’m friends with two title holders. Neither one of them came about their title bid easily. They busted ass for it. I got into fighting much later in life than they did. It was really only a hobby until a few years ago. Fought amateur, but never had any plans to make it a career.”

  “What changed?”

  Again, his body tensed. So, the move to Atlanta and the fighting were connected in some way. In a way he really didn’t want to talk about.

  He finally looked over at her, his lips pressed into a hard line that tightened her chest. “Life just has a way of changing in a split second.”

  They stared at each other. The haunted look in his eyes was all too familiar. She’d seen it reflected in her own. Mac had obviously been through something traumatic, but had lived to face life anyway.

 

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