by Josie Kerr
Tig watched Charlotte sleep until he could not ignore his stomach anymore. He rolled out of bed and padded to the kitchen, following the smell of cooking breakfast.
“Oh my Lord, Mama. Why are you torturing me?” Tig bent over the skillet of frying bacon and wafted some of the delicious scent to his nose. “Man, that smells so good.”
“You said you could have half a piece of turkey bacon a day. . . .”
“I’d really rather not have any. Makes me want some more.”
“Good morning. Why did you not get me up?” Charlotte said as she came into the room, pulling her hair back into a high, tight ponytail. When she lifted her arms, a tiny piece of her belly showed when her shirt rode up.
Tig groaned more.
Charlotte looked at him with pity. “Sorry, Tig. I know you must be miserable. You have, what, three more weeks of this?”
“Yeah. Fucking twenty-three more days.”
“Twenty-three non-fucking days is more like it,” Hattie said under her breath, but Charlotte heard Tig’s mother and raised her eyebrows at him.
Tig muttered and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Mama. Hush, please.”
Hattie held up her hands. “I’m just saying, honey, there’s more than one reason that you’re a little bit out of sorts. I know this. I know the rules. We never had to deal with it when you were in school because you could keep your hands occupied.”
“Oh my Lord, Mama. Just stop.”
Hattie grinned at her son as she slid a bowl of Cream of Wheat in front of him.
“You know I’m just teasing you. You work hard, and win that fight, and you can eat whatever you want to. Remember that.”
Tig choked. “I’m gonna pretend you’re talking about real bacon.”
Hattie winked at Charlotte. “Well, you can have some of your mama’s sugar regardless of whether you’re in training or not.” And Hattie bent down and kissed Tig all over his face. He squirmed and protested but smiled throughout the barrage, finally pinking up and chuckling. “Thanks, Mama.”
Hattie patted Tig’s shoulder and gave him another kiss. Then she left Tig and Charlotte alone in the kitchen.
“You’re very lucky, you know.”
Tig nodded. “Yep.”
“I should probably stay away from you for the next three weeks, huh?”
Tig set his spoon down with a clatter. “Yeah, actually. Junior told me that I needed to talk to you, or he’d talk to you.”
Charlotte winced. “Yeah, I don’t wanna talk to Junior. He kind of scares me.”
“More than C does?”
“Colin doesn’t scare me at all. I see him when he’s with Bailey and Maude, and I can’t imagine a sweeter man.”
It was Tig’s turn to snort. “Colin’s a complete bastard in the cage, I tell you what. I think he got all his frustrations out when he was fighting, and that’s why he’s such a nice guy now.”
“Maybe. I think he’s a sweetheart.”
“Oh, man, Junior is gonna love hearing that,” Tig laughed. His laugh faded as he looked at Charlotte. “I’m sorry about the whole . . . sex . . . thing with my Mama.”
Charlotte laughed. “It’s all right, Tig. Gives us something to look forward to, right?”
Tig grinned. “Oh, most definitely.” He fiddled with his spoon. “You gonna come to the fight?”
“Do you want me to come to the fight?”
“Yeah, I do. I worry that it’s going to be too much for you, though. Things get pretty crazy, and since it’s a Round Robin, hopefully I’m gonna be fighting five, six times over the course of the evening.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. “Maybe you could see what Bailey’s doing, and you could sit with her. I know she generally doesn’t come to the actual fights.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Okay,” Tig said with a grin and returned to his Cream of Wheat. “Yeah, I’d like that. That’s a plan.”
Charlotte grinned at her fighter, who winked at her while he slowly ate his breakfast. They sat in comfortable silence until Hattie came back into the kitchen.
“I don’t think Tig’s ever been this quiet,” she teased. “You must have some magic powers, Charlotte.”
“Nah, I’m just enjoying the view. It’s not often that I get to eat breakfast with two gorgeous women.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Has he always been like this?”
“Always. Since he was a little boy,” Hattie said with a laugh. “Such a charmer, just like his Daddy.”
Charlotte’s smile dimmed, and Hattie knew just what she was thinking.
“Honey, you do not need to worry about Floyd, okay? He’ll come around,” Tig’s mother said. “So, what are you two up to today?”
“We need to head back early, Mama. Paddy expects me in training this afternoon since I was out yesterday.”
“Well, I guess you’ll need to get a move on, then. I’m glad you two came down, even if it was just for a little bit.”
Tig nodded and got up from the table to wash his bowl. Charlotte watched him with appreciation, the way his jeans hung low on his hips and the way his T-shirt stretched across his shoulders.
“He got that from his Daddy, too,” Hattie said with her own wink. Charlotte giggled and slapped her hand over her mouth, and that caused Hattie to laugh out loud.
“I’m beginning to feel kind of objectified,” Tig sniffed with mock outrage, which caused more laughing on the two women’s parts. “You got your stuff all together, Charlotte?”
“Yep, it’s all ready.”
“Then, we best head out. I’ll grab our bags.” He headed back to the guest rooms.
“Thank you for trying. You know, with Floyd.”
Charlotte sighed. “Your family is so close. I couldn’t not try, you know?”
“I know, and that’s what makes me know you’re a good one for Trevor.”
“You ready to head out?”
Tig came into the kitchen, a bag in each hand, and Charlotte nodded. “Yeah,” she said and was surprised to feel a little prick of tears behind her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Hattie said and caught Charlotte in a hug. “You call me anytime you want, Charlotte,” Hattie murmured in her ear. “I need you to know that, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered.
She felt Tig’s big hand wrap around her neck and give it a little squeeze. She looked up at him, and he cocked his head at her in a silent question. She nodded and stretched up onto her toes to give him a kiss.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Tig said his goodbyes to his mother, and they headed out.
The car ride was quiet, with the radio playing softly and the two passengers introspective, until Charlotte broke the silence.
“So, three weeks, huh?”
Tig huffed a laugh. “Yeah, three long-ass weeks.”
“Will you call me?”
“Whenever I get a chance, sweetheart.”
Charlotte exhaled. “Good. And I’ll send you pictures of Fiona.” She waited a beat. “And maybe another pussy, if you’d like.”
Tig groaned. “You probably better hold off on that last bit. But you can guarantee that I’ll be looking forward to you playing model, afterward.”
Charlotte looked at Tig, and he grinned. “But you definitely need to send me pics of the results of your cooking lessons.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. . . .”
“That way my appetite will be ruined.”
“Tig! That was rude,” Charlotte cackled. “Rude, but probably accurate.”
Grinning, Tig winked and drove her home to her little house.
Charlotte picked Hattie up at her hotel earlier in the afternoon to take her to lunch after they both talked to Tig, who was getting ready to head to the tournament site for the weigh-in. Then Hattie suggested that they go to Charlotte’s house to wait until it was time for the tournament. Charlotte stood in the hallway while Hattie looked around the house with interest.
&nbs
p; “This is exactly what I figured your home would look like, Charlotte,” Hattie said. “It’s cute and completely put together, just like you. It’s darling.”
“Thank you, Hattie.” Inside, Charlotte hugged herself and grinned like an idiot. “Would you like something to drink while we wait? We can go sit outside and enjoy the fresh air.”
“That sounds very nice, Charlotte, thank you.”
“I have tea, Coca-Cola, and water, both still and fizzy. . . .”
“Do you have anything . . . stronger?” Hattie smiled weakly.
“I have bourbon. Or I could put a shot of peach schnapps in your tea.”
Hattie chuckled. “You know, let’s try that peach thing. I’ve never heard of that.”
“My friend Em clued me into it. It’s delicious, but I find that I have to be kind of careful, or I totally overindulge.”
“I can imagine.”
“Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll be right out.”
Charlotte thought about Hattie while she poured up two peach tea coolers. Hattie had been quiet during lunch, and Charlotte fretted that Hattie did not like the restaurant that she chose, but now, she thought that something else might be bothering Tig’s mother.
“Here you go,” Charlotte said as she handed Hattie a drink and sat down in an adjacent chair.
“This is so nice. Your garden is looking good, too.”
“I’m very excited for the fresh produce. I have a feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of stir-fry.”
“That’s always good.”
“Well, it’s the only thing that I can reliably make, so . . .” Charlotte grinned and was relieved when Hattie laughed. “Hattie, is there something wrong?”
“Oh, honey, you don’t need to worry about me.” She sighed. “I got this way before any of Tig’s competitions in high school, you know? I had a hard time seeing anyone kick my baby, even if it was in a controlled environment.”
Charlotte nodded. She completely understood.
“Well, you know, we can sit with Bailey Carmichael in the dressing room and not watch the fight.”
“Bailey is the gym owner’s wife?”
“Yes. She doesn’t watch the actual matches, but she goes and supports Colin and the boys whenever she can.”
“That’s awfully nice, but I need to see it.”
“Then I’ll watch it with you.”
“You don’t have to. . . .”
“I do.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, and then Charlotte could not stand it anymore.
“Hattie, are you sure there’s not something else wrong? Besides, you know, not wanting to see your child get beat on?”
“Floyd forbade me to come up here.”
“What?” Charlotte could not believe it.
“Neil’s up here, too.”
“Oh no. I see.”
Hattie smiled sadly. “I figured you would. I haven’t said anything to Trevor because it would only distract him.”
Charlotte nodded and waited for Hattie to continue. “Floyd said not to bother coming back if I left.”
“Oh my goodness, Hattie. That’s awful.”
Hattie sighed. “Well, he’s done it before when Trevor was younger.”
“You love Floyd, but you’ve always been in love with Neil, haven’t you?”
Hattie chuckled knowingly and pointed at Charlotte. “You are very perceptive. Very perceptive.”
“Well, that comes from thirty-plus years of trying to gauge my parents’ moods on the fly. So what are you going to do?”
“Well, I packed everything that I couldn’t bear to part with and most of my clothes and other necessities. My granny’s cast iron cookware. You know, just in case he was serious about changing the locks, which I think he just might be.”
“You can stay here as long as you need to. Hell, I have an apartment that I haven’t put on the market yet—you could stay there as well. It would give you a bit more privacy to sort things out.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Charlotte. I’m going to take this weekend to clear my head, and then we’ll see what’s what.”
“Well, you just let me know if you need anything. You’ll do that for me and for Tig, won’t you?”
“Sure, honey. I’ll do that.” Hattie took a drink from her iced tea and immediately spluttered. “Girl, you got a heavy hand with the hooch.”
Charlotte grinned and shrugged, and the women sat on the deck and talked about a lot of nothing until it was time to leave for the tournament.
*****
Charlotte saw Neil before Hattie did. He stood by the wall, his eyes darting over the crowd as if he were sizing everyone up. Charlotte nudged Hattie with her elbow and nodded in Neil’s direction.
She heard Hattie suck in a breath and mutter, “Here goes nothing.” Then she watched her walk purposely toward Neil, whose face lit up in a wide smile when he saw her. That smile faded quickly, though, and was replaced with a hard, cold look that Charlotte had seen on Tig’s face when she shared some of her father’s more hurtful comments and behavior. Neil drew Hattie into his arms, and they just stood there, in the middle of the bustling crowd, until Charlotte reluctantly interrupted them so they could go inside.
They quickly found their seats—close, but not too close. Charlotte’s blood thrummed in her veins, the energy in the arena almost palpable.
“Breathe, honey. You can’t cheer Tig on if you’re laid out on the floor.”
Charlotte smiled shyly at Neil, who looked at her with eyes full of affection and humor.
“I’m nervous for him.”
“Well, it’s a big day for Tig. He’s going to appreciate you being in the crowd for him.”
“He’s going to appreciate his parents being in the crowd more,” Charlotte said, but Neil did not think that was the case at all.
“He’s going to appreciate you all being here,” came a booming voice from behind them.
“Colin, you startled me,” Charlotte exclaimed. “You’re really quiet for such a big guy.”
Colin barked a laugh. “Bailey says that, too.” He grinned at the small woman. “I just wanted to tell you that if it gets to be too much, Bailey’s in the Red lounge, and you can go in there and decompress. Here are some passes to get you back,” he said, handing each of them a pass.
“How’s he look?” Neil asked Colin. Charlotte saw a look pass between the two men, a look she did not know the meaning of.
Colin clucked his tongue. “I admit, it’s going to be close. The organizers played it smart by not telling us that it was a same-day weigh-in. I think there’s going to be a lot of upset and a lot of substitutions, which I don’t necessarily like. We’ve had Tig running through sparring scenarios for all the fighters, alternates included, but I’m still a little bit concerned.”
Neil nodded. “Sounds like you need to be.”
“I just need to keep all my guys safe. That’s my first priority. With all the bullshit that’s been going on, if I even get a whiff of something untoward going down, I’m pulling all my guys and that’s that, period. We’ll see how it goes during the weigh-in.” Colin took his leave and went to be with his fighters.
“Carmichael’s good people,” Neil said. “I’m grateful that he’s found his team.”
Both Charlotte and Hattie nodded, and Charlotte squeezed Hattie’s hand reassuringly.
She felt Neil suck in and blow out a breath, his leg jiggling just like Tig’s did when he was wound up.
“You remembering to breathe?” Charlotte said with a grin, and Neil barked a laugh and took another deep breath as they all settled in to wait for the weigh-in.
As a bantamweight, Tig was one of the first group of fighters to weigh in, although he was at the end of the group.
The entire weight class lined up, all sixteen participants, plus the twelve alternates. Tig towered over all of them except one, but he looked a lot skinnier than the other guys as well.
One by one the men got on the sca
le, and twelve of the fifteen made weight, barely.
When it was Tig’s turn to get on the scale, Junior and Colin held up a towel in front of him.
“What are they doing?” Charlotte whispered.
“Every ounce counts, Charlotte. Every single one. You get as light as you can.”
Surely Neil didn’t mean . . . oh. He did.
Tig stripped completely down and got on the scale.
“An even 135. Trevor Mashburn makes weight,” the announcer said, and Charlotte watched Tig flex his arms and roar with victory. He stepped off the scale, either not remembering or not caring that he was bare-assed in front of the crowd, and Junior clapped the towel around his waist to avoid Tig’s flashing everyone.
Charlotte clapped her hand over her mouth, hiding her grin, and she heard Hattie say, “Yep, just like his daddy. Just like him.”
And Neil stood and whooped and screamed, “Now you go kick all of their asses, Tig. Every single goddamn one.”
“You’re looking good, Tig.” Colin peered at Tig.
Tig nodded, all his attention on Ryan, who was wrapping his hands carefully.
“You feeling good?”
Tig looked up at Colin. “Yeah, I am. Hungry as hell, though,” he laughed.
“Well, take care of this, and we’ll get you back up to featherweight, or maybe even higher, okay?” Colin and Tig studied each other. “You’ve got this,” the big fight club owner said.
Tig nodded. “Damn straight, I got this.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go check on something. I’ll be back in a few. Ryan, you need anything?”
The cutman shook his head. “Nope.”
Colin looked hard at Ryan and then shook his head and walked away.
“You okay, Goody?” Tig frowned. The cutman, generally a skittish sort of guy, seemed extra jittery today.
“I’m fine. All these people are making me twitchy.”
“Hey, Ryan, look at me.”
Ryan met Tig’s eyes.
“Whatever is going on, it’ll be okay, yeah? You need my help with anything, you let me know. Anything.”
Ryan’s lip twitched in a tiny smile. “You gotta get your head in the cage and quit trying to mother everyone and their dog outside of it.”
