Holding Strong

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Holding Strong Page 28

by Lori Foster


  “And Cherry?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You should know that I’m sinking with a continual hard-on—and a smile on my face.” With that he turned and left the room.

  And Cherry, feeling her knees go weak, dropped back into the seat. Was that Denver’s way of telling her their relationship was more than just physical? For her it always had been.

  For him...so darned hard to tell.

  She needed several deep breaths before she felt capable of hunting through his kitchen cabinets. She discovered the man was entirely too organized.

  Keeping his restricted diet in mind, she found skinless chicken fillets, brown rice and broccoli. He had it all on hand so she assumed he liked it, but to be sure she went to the bathroom and tapped on the door. “Denver?”

  “Come on in.”

  She stepped into steam—and a carnal treat. Eyes flaring wide, she said, “Oh, umm...”

  Keeping one shoulder submerged, Denver left exposed one thick shoulder and a long muscular arm, his lean waist, a paler hip and a strong hairy thigh. When she just stood there gawking, he said, “You’ve seen me before.”

  Yes, she had. But not like this. And seriously, every view proved inspirational. Right now, with the way his arm rested against his side, his biceps bulged.

  Sexy personified, she thought.

  She cleared her throat, watching the bubbling water move against his skin and slide over his muscles.

  “At the rec center,” he told her, “we have a hot tub that’s deep enough for me to sit in and still soak my shoulder.”

  Guilt tripped over her. “We could have skipped tonight so you could—”

  “No.” His voice roughened, his gaze piercing. “I need you tonight.”

  Because of his stepmother and a past that had caused him a lot of pain. Wanting to be whatever he needed, she gave a small smile. “Then I’m glad I’m here.”

  “Me, too.” He continued to watch her, waiting.

  Oh. Right. She’d come in for a reason. “Chicken and brown rice okay?”

  Visually stroking her body, he nodded. “Perfect.”

  Still hesitating, she asked, “Do you, ah, need anything?”

  “Other than you? I’m good.” He shifted, sending the water to slosh in the big tub and giving her a peek at the goods. Settling his head against the back of the tub, he said, “I feel like a hedonist. A hot soak, a hotter babe and dinner served. Doesn’t get any better than that.”

  While she tried to think of something to say to that, his cell rang. They both looked at where he’d left it beside the sink.

  “Want me to hand it to you?”

  “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” Sitting up, he dried his hands on a towel hung over the edge of the tub.

  Without really meaning to, Cherry saw Stack’s name on the caller ID. “Here you go.” She gave him the phone, then excused herself, pulling the door shut behind her.

  He had her in his house and the last thing she wanted to do was make him regret it by eavesdropping.

  Besides, she could already guess what the call was about. The big bad defenders probably wanted to coordinate their plans. She shook her head while tenderizing the chicken. It was a little annoying, and a whole lot endearing, how protective they all were.

  Denver didn’t emerge until half an hour later when the dinner was done. Wearing only loose shorts, his damp hair finger-combed back, he came in sniffing the air. “Smells good.”

  She glanced at him, all over him, while dishing up two plates. “Your shoulder feels better now?”

  “It’s fine.” He came up behind her and kissed the side of her neck. “What can I do to help?”

  “Everything is ready. Just take a seat and I’ll serve you.”

  “I’ll serve, you sit.” He pulled out a chair for her and then scooted her in before fetching the plates. After sitting across from her, he picked up a fork and said, “Let’s eat. Stack and Armie are stopping by in a few.”

  She had a bite halfway to her mouth but that announcement threw her. “Wait, what?” She’d had her heart all set on sex!

  “Yeah, we have some plans to configure. Keep your motor running because it won’t take too long. But they’re both moochers and will steal part of my meal if I don’t eat it fast enough.”

  “Oh.” Her motor would definitely stay running. “Dig in, then.” With her bottom lip caught in her teeth, she watched as he cut into the tender, seasoned chicken.

  Two seconds after he got the first big bite into his mouth, his eyes closed and he gave a low growl of pleasure. “So good.”

  She beamed. “You like it?”

  “Love it.” In rapid order he tried the fragrant rice and then the steamed broccoli, making his appreciation known. “Damn, girl, you do know how to cook.”

  “Told you.”

  He nodded at her plate. “Better get to eating. The guys aren’t above stealing from you, either.”

  They ended up with a solid fifteen minutes before the doorbell rang. Plate empty, Denver stood, kissed her forehead, and went to answer.

  He kept doing that, giving her small kisses in special places that felt intimate, but not necessarily sexual.

  Again, her heart wanted to scream, Significance, while her brain cautioned, Don’t jump the gun.

  But being here with Denver in his house, talking to him while he bathed, cooking and sharing a meal...it all felt so homey, so domestic.

  And yet Carver was out there somewhere, just waiting to wreck her world. That’s why Denver’s friends—now her friends, too, she reminded herself—were visiting.

  She heard the multiple voices and realized Cannon had come along, as well.

  Only half of her meal remained when they all shuffled into the kitchen. Sure enough, Armie made a beeline for her and snatched a bite of chicken right off her fork.

  Stack eyed her plate. “Looks good. Who cooked?”

  “I did.” Smiling, Cherry pushed back her chair. “I’m done if you want—”

  Before she could finish, they were both on it. Stack got his butt in her seat first, but Armie had her fork.

  Cannon laughed at them. “Single men are so pathetic.”

  To her surprise, Denver grinned and said, “Yeah.”

  Flustered, it took Cherry a moment to react. “I’d be happy to cook something more—”

  “Don’t encourage them,” Denver told her, drawing her into his side. “They’re like wild animals. Feed them once and they’ll always be underfoot.”

  “True story,” Cannon said. “Ask Rissy. She’ll tell you.”

  “That’s your sister’s fault.” Denver grinned. “She ignores the diets and always cooks the sweet stuff.”

  Mouth full, Stack nodded. “Love her muffins.”

  Scowling ferociously, Armie smacked him in the head.

  “Hey!”

  Armie didn’t back down. “That sounded bad and you know it.”

  “I wouldn’t make a sex joke about Cannon’s sister!”

  “Yeah, well...” He frowned. “Never mind, then.”

  Denver and Cannon laughed. Stack just continued to eat, now leaning away from Armie, until the plate was empty.

  After witnessing that exchange, Cherry realized just how difficult it might be for Merissa if no one could even joke without getting into trouble. Because she was Cannon’s sister, the men all put her on a pedestal, and that pretty much made her untouchable.

  Did Rissy know?

  Did that have something to do with Armie always resisting her?

  Interrupting her musings, Denver tipped up her chin and kissed her. “Why don’t you go get your own bath and I’ll put away the dishes?”

  Every other guy in the room suddenly looked at her, making her feel like a spectacle. Pretending it didn’t bother her, she teased, “Meaning the menfolk want to talk?”

  “Meaning as soon as I can throw them out, I want to—”

  “Denver.” Scandalized, she smashed a hand over his mouth. Heat throbbed in her face
, especially when she realized all the guys were now smiling.

  “You can quit smothering him, hon,” Armie said. “It’s not like we don’t know exactly what he wants.”

  “Exactly,” Stack emphasized.

  Only Cannon refrained from suggestive comments, but his grin said it all. “We’ll make it quick, I promise.”

  Grabbing up her purse, Cherry nodded and left the kitchen with as much stiff dignity as she could. She felt them all watching her exit, so she did her utmost to keep her hips from swaying even the tiniest bit. Even after she’d turned the corner, everyone remained so silent that closing the bathroom door felt like an actual escape. Her heart finally slowed its mad gallop with her privacy ensured.

  She didn’t have a change of clothes but she found one of Denver’s flannel shirts left in the bathroom for her to use as a robe. How considerate. She had work in the morning, and he had his usual full schedule. Did that mean Denver would take her home tonight? Or early in the morning?

  With so many unanswered questions interfering with her contentment, she hoped Cannon was right, that they wouldn’t be long. No way would she go back out there in the same wrecked clothes—or in nothing more than a flannel shirt.

  In fact, once they were all gone, she wouldn’t mind just getting naked with Denver. She wanted to make love with him for the rest of her life.

  But for tonight, at least, she’d make do with a few hours.

  * * *

  SOON AS THE bathroom door closed with a quiet click, everyone settled at the table.

  Folding his arms on the tabletop, Stack asked, “You moving her in?”

  Struggling with conflicting emotion, Denver shook his head and said, “I don’t know.” He wanted to, but was he ready for that?

  Turning his chair to straddle the seat, Armie said, “He’s an idiot.” And then to Denver, “You’re an idiot.”

  Cannon laughed. “I heard what happened at the gym.”

  “Gee, wonder how?” Denver gave a pointed look at Armie.

  Shrugging, Armie said, “Why the hell are you dragging your feet anyway?”

  That sentiment from Armie had Stack and Denver both staring at him with incredulity.

  He lifted his arms, said, “What?” with a load of attitude, and then shoved back his chair to pace.

  Cannon cocked a brow. “Am I missing something?”

  “No.” Armie quickly reseated himself. “But Denver is. How long do you expect a woman like Cherry to wait?”

  Harking back to the conversation they’d had at the hotel, Denver said, “A woman like Cherry—who’s a different kind of nice?”

  “You remember that, huh?”

  “Anyone can see you’re hung up on her,” Stack pointed out. “And vice versa.”

  Denver chewed it over, decided fuck it, and looked at each of his friends in turn. “It wouldn’t bother any of you, the way she flirts? I mean, if you were involved?”

  Armie frowned. “Get out of here.”

  “She’s flirted with you,” Denver said, and then to Stack, “You, too.”

  Stack laughed. “She jokes around, but I always knew it was you she wanted.”

  “Same here,” Armie said.

  “It’s been pretty obvious,” Cannon agreed. “The only one who might have misunderstood was you.”

  “And,” Armie said, “it’s past time for you to get it figured out.”

  Denver sat back in his seat. “I already did.” Idly, he rearranged his half-empty glass of tea that Cherry had served with dinner. He looked at each of his friends. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  A round of agreement made him smile. “Her fucking foster brothers are really starting to piss me off.”

  They all knew the petty thugs wouldn’t just go away. That meant they had to ensure no one got hurt by them.

  “I talked to Margo,” Cannon said.

  “Lieutenant Peterson?” One tough lady, Denver thought—although with her husband and baby daughter, she seemed much softer.

  “What’s the use in having cops for friends if you don’t pick their brains every now and then,” Armie explained.

  Cannon nodded. “Right now there’s not a lot they can do. But she said if they approach Cherry at all, give her a call. It wouldn’t hurt to put restraining orders against the lot of them, but that’d require having them served with the orders.”

  “And we don’t know where they’re staying.” Frustration mounted to the boiling point.

  “You’re in training,” Stack said. “Want me to pick up Cherry after she gets off work?”

  Denver shook his head. He had a feeling Cherry wouldn’t appreciate everyone being involved in her business. He had his hands full getting her to let him in, much less everyone else. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “I can at least fill in for you at the rec center,” Stack insisted.

  “Thanks. If I need you, I’ll let you know.”

  “I tried a return call on the number Carver used to call me,” Armie said. “No go.”

  Denver hadn’t expected it to be that easy. “Cherry has his number. I might give the bastard a call.”

  Silent surprise filled the room.

  Armie sat forward. “If you have his number, what the hell are you waiting for?”

  “She doesn’t want me involved.”

  They all stared at him.

  “Fucked-up, right?”

  “Don’t take it as an insult,” Cannon advised. “Odds are she’s embarrassed and trying to minimize things.”

  “That’s part of it.” Denver popped his neck, rolled his shoulders. He glanced back to ensure they were still alone. He could hear the shower running, turned back to his friends, and fessed up. “Seems Cherry and I work on some levels, but not on others.”

  “Bullshit,” Cannon told him. “You make it work, that’s all. No one said it’d be easy.”

  “But is she worth it?” Armie asked. And before Denver could answer, he said emphatically, “You know she is.”

  “Yeah.” More than worth it.

  The silence held until Cannon shifted verbal gears. “If you’re moving her in, let me know. I don’t want Rissy at the house alone until all this is resolved.”

  For the next ten minutes they discussed plans. Cannon had already put the word out so anyone new to town asking about Cherry would quickly be reported. His network knew to get as much info as they could, which might include following the strangers. Because it was sometimes kids, late teens who, thanks to circumstances were tougher than many grown men, he also stressed caution.

  “Cherry’s convinced that they’re dangerous.” Denver hated thinking about what they might have put her through—things she hadn’t yet told him, things she might never tell him. “No one take any chances, okay?”

  They agreed, and Stack asked, “So what’s going on with Leese? Why is he at the rec center?”

  “I invited him.” More comfortable with this subject, Denver finished off his tea. “He’s not that bad.”

  “Never said he was.”

  “He’s sweet on Vanity,” Armie offered, and everyone knew he said it just to needle Stack.

  Stack gave him one quelling glare but otherwise ignored him. “He hasn’t had any real training, has never belonged to a camp.”

  “That’s what I figured.” Training with the best, Denver knew, made a huge difference. Each fighter learned from another. A few rose above the company they kept, but not often. “I checked out his record, watched him go through some drills. He’s got respectable moves, especially considering he’s taught himself.”

  Stack grinned. “I watched him do some cage work with Justice, specifically submissions.”

  Armie whistled. Justice was a big sonofabitch.

  “He was getting tagged a lot until he caught Justice in a reverse triangle and skull-fucked the back of his head until the big man almost passed out. I tapped for him.”

  “He’s too cocky,” Denver said, laughing with the others. “But then so is Jus
tice.”

  When the humor died down, Cannon said, “I like him. He’s good with the kids.”

  “There is that.” Armie looked at Stack. “Also good with the ladies, or so I hear.”

  Refusing to take the bait, Stack ignored him. “What if he’s still involved with the foster brothers?”

  Denver had already thought it all through. “I don’t think he is, but we’ll keep an eye on him.” Even if he wasn’t involved, Denver couldn’t discount the possibility that the fucks would come after Leese again. “He was easy game for them once already. They’ll take another shot at him.”

  Stack narrowed his eyes. “This time he won’t be alone, or drugged.”

  “And he’ll be better trained,” Cannon said. “He’s a quick study who needs some fine-tuning.”

  “And some humility,” Stack added with an evil grin. “I call dibs on that one.”

  Armie laughed, opened his mouth—and Stack said to him, “Shut up.”

  The sudden quiet as the shower shut off had every guy going still.

  Muscles drawn taut, a low burning lust flamed into an inferno inside Denver. Now that he knew he loved Cherry, he wanted her even more.

  And more often.

  In several various ways.

  He shoved back his chair. “I know you’re all scouring the neighborhood tonight, but—”

  “But you’re not,” Armie finished for him. “Stay here with her. We’ve got it.”

  Cannon agreed. “It’s covered.”

  “I was going to join you after.” After he appeased the never-ending hunger. After he had her. Maybe twice. Then he’d get his head on straight and join them to do what needed to be done.

  Stack laughed. “Cherry would wound you if she heard you say that.”

  “Seriously.” Cannon clapped him on the shoulder, his expression firm. “Stay with her, get some rest, and we’ll let you know if we find out anything.”

  On a regular basis they got together to walk the neighborhood, talking to business owners and the elderly...but they were right. He could skip a night.

  “Then I guess I better get my car in the garage.” Grabbing his keys, he followed them through the house and out the door, and he didn’t even mind their ribbing.

  He could take a few jokes.

  And for now, he could take Cherry holding back.

 

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