I don’t need to hold him down since he is unconscious for thirty long seconds.
It’s almost a reenactment of the day before we left for the wedding, except isn’t an accident. Or, at least, I was aware this time I was taking a swing at Declan. I also assumed he knew which move I was doing and would block it.
Either I got lucky or have some mega mad skills, because I not only made contact, but Declan is totally out.
That can’t be good.
“Declan, come on; open your eyes,” I beg, throwing my gloves off before I crawl over to reach for my bottle of water where I again splash it over his face.
He jolts up, and after a second of confusion, he groans.
“No way! You knocked me out again?” he whines, moving his gloved hands over his head.
“Yep.” I sound a little shaky, so I clear my throat. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
He rolls his eyes, sitting up too fast for my liking, but he does say the correct number of fingers. That’s a good sign, right?
“Was I out for long?”
“Long enough. Are you sure you’re okay? You should probably get looked at,” I say as I turn away, looking for the trainer I saw lurking around to see who the medic is in this place.
“I’m fine. Shit, I’ve got two crap movies coming up.” He winces.
Though I know he’s joking, I give him a lifeline.
“I’ll allow us to make out through one of them.”
“Just the one?” He smiles, looking relaxed, so I force myself to relax, too.
“We’ll have to see. Depends on how generous your snack buying is. Just a warning, no popcorn, none of this.” I wave my hand over my body, and he laughs now.
“Noted. So, we ready to head out?” He begins removing his gloves and mouth guard.
“Sure.” I quickly stand to my feet then lean over to offer Declan both of my hands to help him up.
“Damn, you trying to make me dizzy from this view?” he groans, his eyes pinned to my chest.
I’m not sure what he means, until I glance down and see his gaze is aimed at my cleavage. From his angle, it’s likely all he can see.
“Men,” I retort as I shake my head and haul him to his feet. “So easily distracted.”
“You make it easy to be distracted.”
“Well, I’m glad my knock didn’t hit any sense into you,” I say, smiling when he looks slightly offended by that.
“I have plenty of sense, I’ll have you know.”
“But not enough to realize I have a killer right hook,” I point out, feeling better since he is still joking around with me. That must be a good sign. No permanent damage.
“True. I do keep getting surprised by that. But I win since I have enough sense to be the only person allowed to do this.” He leans down and gives me a kiss. “And that makes me the luckiest and smartest man in the room.”
“Wow, did my punch loosen up some charm or something?” I jest, though it almost feels on the wrong side of cheesy.
“Perhaps. Let’s see if it works later on.” He smiles, and again my eyes trail down his chest to gaze over every bump and curve of his chest.
“Hell, charm isn’t going to matter. I’m already charmed. You just need to remove your clothes, and then we’ll have a real party.” I wink at him, and his smile immediately drops, just as the muscles I was admiring tense up before my eyes.
“Sash …” Declan growls.
“What? This is your rule, Dec. You made this bed, now sleep in it with your blue balls.” I throw my towel over my shoulder as I leave Declan outside the women’s changing rooms.
If only my hit to his head had loosened his morals.
***
My second quiz night at the nursing home is much more eventful, and not in a good way. J and Amara didn’t abandon me and allowed me to join their team, but I unfortunately was the same amount of help as last time.
In my defense, I wasn’t born for any of the questions asked, and another point in my favor is that almost no one knows any of these answers tonight.
“I thought after last week, you would be better tonight,” Amara grumbles.
“Why?” Did she expect me to spend all week studying? I’m not sure a week would be enough, even if I decided to do just that.
“You’ve had a week to work Declan. What good is sex if you’re not going to use it to make it worth your while?” She shakes her head at me in disappointment.
“You want me to use sex to get Declan to give me the answers to these questions?” I confirm, smiling to myself that I already thought of that. It’s the lack of our sex life that is causing a snag in that plan.
“Well, of course. What else would you have sex for?” She shakes her head at me like I have no clue.
“Umm … How about pleasure?” I shrug when she snorts at my suggestion.
“Child, you’ll learn eventually that most men have zero idea when it comes to a woman’s body. If you find a man who can give you the business and do it good, then consider yourself lucky and one of the few. For the rest of us, we have to find ways to make it worth our while.”
“Well,” J quickly interjects, “maybe that boy is one of the few, then. She doesn’t need to bargain quiz answers if she can’t even remember her own name.”
“If she is getting it good, then good for her. Don’t mean she can’t get both,” Amara argues.
“They’re still new. Wait for it to get a little less new and exciting before she’s interrogating the poor man,” J rebuts. I feel a little like I’m at a tennis match as I swing my head from one to the other.
I open my mouth to interrupt and point out that my sex life, or lack of which, isn’t really appropriate discussion for a room full of people. Although, with this room, it might be an exception. No one around us seems to be listening, or perhaps it is more they can’t hear. Since the amount of times Declan has to repeat questions throughout the night, it wouldn’t surprise me.
“We don’t got time, J! We need ratings and winning quiz night is one way to do that!” Amara counters, leaning over her chair to wave her fist in J’s face.
“Another way is to have that damn wedding! Are you both engaged yet?” J asks me, not at all phased by Amara’s outburst.
“If they haven’t had time to get over great sex, why on earth are they ready for marriage? Marriage is what you do when you need to spice things up, or need a sugar daddy,” Amara points out to J, who shakes her head.
“The best time to snag a man is when the sex is good,” J imparts on me.
“More likely the stupidest time,” Amara mutters, rolling her eyes at me after she gives J a nod.
I decide a quick change of topic is needed, so I point at a man in a wheelchair separate to everyone else. I haven’t seen anyone go up to him the whole night, and his frown and narrowed eyes appear to be set in stone.
“Who is that guy? I don’t think I’ve met him yet.”
Amara and J stop bickering long enough to look for the man I’m pointing to, and both of their faces instantly turn to disgust when they make contact with him.
“That is Bart Baron.” Amara says his name like she’s swallowed a soursop.
“Why do you look like that?”
“Awful man,” she explains. “We all dislike him.”
I stare back over at him, thinking he looks a little lonely. I have met my fair share of grumpy, old men in my life. Many were teachers at my high school, and some I bump into in grocery stores and at parks who like to grumble and rant at me that the youth have no idea what life is really like. It seems cruel to exclude someone like everyone here is doing to this man. Just because someone isn’t fun to be around doesn’t mean they deserve to be alone.
“I’m going to pop over and say hello,” I tell them.
“Not a good idea,” J tells me, shaking her head.
“Might make good ratings, and any chance to out Bart is a good moment. I bet Sasha here will give him a piece of her mind,” Amara quickly counte
rs, her face thoughtful.
I frown as they then begin to argue the merit of ratings and whether or not I’m “savvy” enough to get my own back at Bart.
I try to ignore them as I make my way over to Bart, smiling briefly when I catch Declan’s eye before his attention is drawn back to Merris, a woman who is a little in love with Declan, if I’m not mistaken.
Once I am only a few feet from reaching Bart, I realize he hasn’t seen my approach. As soon as he does, though, I get the sinking feeling that I know why no one likes to be around him.
He watches my every step as I finish my approach, his lips puckering like he’s tasted something awful and his cheeks becoming a little rosy the closer I get.
I’m not sure what to make of this situation until I am standing in front of him. It will be obvious if I ignored him now or turned back around, but I can already tell this won’t be a pleasant or wanted conversation.
“Hello, sir,” I say, watching as his eyes narrow at me.
“Never gave you permission to talk to me, girl,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t realize I needed permission.”
“People like you all think you can do whatever you want.” He is muttering to himself now, but I hear every word. “I remember a time when I could properly shut you up.”
Wow, talk about unpleasant.
“You upset I’m black or a woman?” I ask, clearly surprising him with my forthrightness.
“Go away,” he replies.
I know I should. I should just turn around and leave this be, but my feet are glued to the ground, and I can’t find it in me to bite my tongue.
“Ever wonder why you’re over here alone?” I ask, shifting my hands to rest on my hips.
“My grandson says I can’t say what I really want to say anymore. Letting you all be freed was the biggest mistake in history.” He stares down at his lap, his old hands fisting in his lap.
Okay, while it can’t be ruled out that my gender is disgusting him, too, my skin color is apparently what we are focusing on at the moment.
“Wow, bigger than any wars? Than bombs being dropped, or children being massacred? You think giving black people rights was worse than that?” I snap, my voice forcing him to give me his attention.
“Like I said, never gave you permission to speak to me.”
“Sucks for you then that I don’t need it. Also sucks that I work for private investigators who I bet will have no problem finding out your grandson’s details. I wonder if he’s single. How do you feel about having a black woman in the family?” I ask, seeing the nerve I hit immediately.
“You wouldn’t dare! My grandson won’t go near the likes of you,” he spits out, his top lip quivering.
“I don’t know. Men seem to go a little gaga over these.” I point at my tits, and his face reddens even further when his eyes drift over to them before he glares at me. “And I bet your grandson or any other men in your family can be persuaded. I have three hot sisters; maybe I’ll sic them all on your family,” I threaten, my mouth running away from me as my anger takes over.
“You are disgusting! If I had my cane with me, I would beat—”
“Gotta run! Time is wasting when I could be flirting with your family members!” I call out over my shoulder, wishing I felt more joy from my parting dig than I do.
It’s not my first time dealing with someone like him, but it never gets easier.
“You okay?” Declan asks as I approach him, concern on his face, while I’m sure mine looks like a volcano is about to erupt.
“How wrong is it to hit an old man?” I ask, my body still slightly shaking as my adrenaline spikes.
“I think it’s likely frowned upon,” he says with a small smile, but his lips almost instantly pull back down. “What happened?”
“What if the bastard is a racist asshole?” I continue, my eyes taking in the small gathering around us and making contact with J and Amara. I see their sympathetic looks and realize they have obviously heard Bart’s rants before.
“Did Mr. Baron say something to you?” Declan asks, squeezing his hand around mine to get my attention.
“Just that freeing people like me was the worst mistake in history,” I snap, anger still thrumming through my body and causing me to shake.
“He what?” Declan snaps, his body tensing as he lets me go and takes a step around me, but I quickly reach out and pull him up short.
“Don’t. Nothing you can say or do will stop him from being a racist bastard. What’s that saying? You can’t teach an old racist new civility.” I try to give him a smile to show I’m okay, but I don’t think I quite pull it off.
“He still needs to be put in his place,” Declan snaps.
I appreciate his anger on my behalf, but it doesn’t solve anything, not in this situation.
“He’s sitting off to the side alone, while everyone else chats, smiles, and is having a great time. He’s a lonely bastard no one wants to be around. He’s already in his place.”
Declan’s lips twitch at my words, and then, before I can react, he reaches out and wraps his arms around me, dipping me low before he smacks a loud, deep kiss on me. It’s more for show than anything else.
The whistles and cheers that surround us are the only reason I don’t push for more when he lets me up.
“What was that for?” I ask breathlessly.
“For being you.”
“Well, since I’m me all the time, I expect that a lot,” I say, smiling up at him.
“Got it,” he promises on a grin.
“You did just ruin my play, though.”
“I did?” His grin dims as he sets me back on my feet, his arms remaining wrapped around me.
“I told him I was going to find details on his grandson and make him fall for my tits and join his family so he would have a black woman with his family name.”
“Not sure I’m for that plan,” Declan admits on a short laugh.
“Then I said my three sisters would find all his available family members and dilute the shit out of his white supremacist ass.” Or, at least I insinuated that.
“You got sisters I don’t know about?” His eyebrow rises as his smile grows.
“Sure, family is what you make it. If his family is anything like him, though, I’m not sure I’d stick any of my sisters on them.”
“I think we both know that blood relations don’t always represent the rest of the family.”
I sigh, knowing that Declan and I know that better than most.
“Very true.”
Unfortunately, with the upcoming days ahead, a racist asshole ends up being the least of our worries.
Chapter 12
On Saturday, I drive back to my place to gather some more clothes and check my mail. As usual, the only things waiting for me are bills and a deadly silent house.
I never considered getting a pet before, and the silence has never bothered me, but now that I have had Declan to live with this past couple of weeks, I can’t imagine going back to how things were before.
When I dated, I might have had a little more action happening at my house, but none of those were serious. It was always just fun, until it wasn’t. With Declan, though, we completely skipped straight to serious, which seems to be working for us for the moment.
What happens when Zander wades in?
The worry has been slowly sizzling in the background of my mind. I know it’s been on Declan’s mind, too, but I’m not overly worried about what Zander will think of us.
I’m worried about what Declan will think of us when faced with Zander.
Zander and Declan are brothers. Completely. They might not be blood-related, but you won’t find biological brothers closer than those two. They have always been close, but after Artie died, something happened to their friendship.
Artie was always closest to Zander growing up, but as they got older and drinking and women became more important, Artie and Declan became closer. They matched each other in a way Zander couldn’
t with either of them.
Zander has always been the sensible, organized, neat freak friend who is the one you call after you get in trouble. Artie and Declan discovered they were perfect for getting into trouble with each other. Joey has always been around, and while he is a brother to those guys, too, he was so busy with the women part of women and trouble that he never stuck around long enough to find trouble.
They would go out drinking, Joey would hook up almost straight away, and then he would be gone. Next, Zander would call it a night, sometimes with a woman, sometimes without, and that would be that. Then Artie and Declan would be the ones at the end of the night, after every place closed, laughing and causing a ruckus with the neighbors because they wouldn’t shut up.
I know all this because, though I never went out drinking with the guys, Zander complained a lot about having to bail them out of tense situations “they never should have gotten themselves into in the first place.”
Then Artie died, and while that hurt Joey, it devastated Declan and Zander. And because of that, they grew close.
All those guys are brothers, and I’m their adopted sister. Well, obviously not that to Declan, but I know Zander’s reaction to us is giving him some anxiety, and I know no matter what Zander thinks, if he sees us happy, he will be happy.
Will Declan have enough faith in what we are finding between us to stick that out?
With these cluttered thoughts, I place my mail on the dining room table to sort through later and take the empty suitcase into my bedroom.
After filling the suitcase with bras, panties, and socks, I turn to my closet, still considering if I should break out some sexy lingerie in my efforts to seduce Declan.
He didn’t want sex to come between us while we made sure we are compatible. However, after the best two weeks ever in relationship terms, I want us to move on to the naughtier and more fun portion of being in a relationship.
I smile at the thought as I open my closet.
The first thing I notice is a few of my tops have fallen off their hangers and are littering the carpeted ground. The next is something catching the corner of my eye. I turn my head to give it my full attention and am beyond weirded out.
I Knocked Him Out (Love at First Crime Book 2) Page 19
