by Lori Foster
Armie and Stack both grinned at her.
Carver made the mistake of sneering—and got his face bashed because of it. Denver had big fists and deadly accuracy. He hit Carver three times before Carver could even think of trying to defend himself.
Not that it would have done him much good.
Slumped on the ground, Carver shook his head.
Denver didn’t give in. “Get up.”
When Pamela and Lyle walked out together, Cherry pulled her gaze away from Denver long enough to peek at them. Lyle’s right arm was wrapped in a white bandage. His left arm was around Pamela. The pretty redhead had makeup streaks down her cheeks and some of her husband’s blood on her otherwise immaculate and stylish outfit. She clung to him as if she feared she might lose him if she loosened her hold.
Denver pulled Carver up and hit him time and time again.
“That’s enough.” Lyle Lewis stepped away from his wife. “Son, he’s had enough.”
“You have no idea,” Denver told him without looking away from Carver.
Police sirens sounded.
Denver popped his neck. Carver hung limp in his grasp.
Cherry watched his back expand several times while he struggled with himself. She noticed that neither Stack nor Armie seemed inclined to put an end to things.
With a growl, Denver slugged him again. It amazed her that with each punch Denver seemed to get angrier, instead of shedding some of his rage.
Seeing the uneasiness on Lyle’s face, the torment on Pamela’s, Cherry took a step forward. “Denver?”
He went still, but didn’t reply.
She didn’t get too close when she said, “I don’t want to interfere, but I need you. Right now.”
Carver moaned, and Denver gave him another slug that shut him up.
“Denver?” She took another step closer. “I love you, too.”
He started breathing harder, his broad back billowing, the pronounced muscles in his arms flexing and bunching.
“Way to drag out the suspense,” Armie told her. He handed the gun to Stack and stepped in close, whispering something low to Denver.
Denver shook his head.
Armie whispered again, then pried Denver’s clenched fist away from Carver’s shirt. “There you go,” he said as if soothing a wild animal. “A few more breaths. Maybe back up just a little? That’s it. That’ll work.” He dropped Carver to the ground without concern for any additional injuries he might get.
The sirens grew louder.
Armie clapped him on the shoulder. “She’s waiting for you, dude.”
No, Cherry decided. She wasn’t good at waiting; she’d already proven that. If she hadn’t rushed Denver at the bar after Armie’s fight, they might not be together right now.
Once again she’d have to act, to nudge him.
She’d taken only one step when he turned and stalked over to her, scooping her up without losing his stride.
Lyle said, “I’ll go around front and fetch the cops.”
“I’m going with you,” Pamela told him, still sticking close.
Indicating the fallen men who were now unconscious, Stack assured Denver, “We’ve got this,” as Denver walked away.
Armie added, “Take your time,” and Cherry heard the suppressed laughter in his tone.
They were all nuts, but she loved each of them.
Ignoring everyone else, Denver left the yard with her held close to his heart.
* * *
DENVER WANTED TO take her all the way home, but he made it only as far as the back deck before emotion got a stranglehold on him and he had to sit down on the step. Never, not if he lived to be a hundred, would he forget the sight of Carver poised over her, a gun aimed at her head.
Thank God Armie called him when he did, that Armie and Stack had been close enough to disable Mitty without fanfare.
That Cherry hadn’t been seriously hurt. He couldn’t lose her.
Cherry tried to lift her head, but he hugged her tighter. “I love you.” Saying it wasn’t enough. Not near enough. “I love you so fucking much.”
Her gentle fingers smoothed through his hair, over his shoulder. “I loved you first.”
Laughing, he took a soft love bite of her neck, nuzzled his way over her cheek, and sealed his mouth over hers for a heart-stopping kiss. When he thought he might be able to talk normally, when some of the ragged tension making him shake had turned to lust instead of rage, he lifted his head and looked into her beautiful dark eyes. “I said it first.”
“I knew it first.”
God, he loved her. “It’s not a competition, girl.”
She settled in close to him and sighed. “If it was, you’d lose.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Again he tipped up her chin to check her throat. A few of the red marks might turn to bruises, and it hurt him, physically and emotionally, to see them on her pale, soft skin. Back to trembling, he growled, “I should have killed him.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” She moved her fingertips over his bristly jaw. “I liked seeing you bloody him up some, though.”
He’d bloodied him up a lot, but she’d seen and heard enough violence in her lifetime. “Carver is out of your life for good.”
“I know.”
“The detectives will bust up his drug trade, Lieutenant Peterson will make sure the dirty cops are exposed, and Leese is more than willing to testify. In fact, he’s going to be pissed when he realizes he missed his chance to get even.”
“He wanted to be here today?”
Denver shrugged. “He agreed to take his turn, but if he’d known things would break today, I know he’d have wanted to be here.” It burned Leese’s ass that Carver had gotten the better of him, never mind that he’d been drugged. Typical of trained fighters, Leese was cockier than most other men—and for him, this was now personal.
But not as personal as it was for Denver.
“I like the idea of Carver rotting in jail.”
He just nodded.
“Pamela loves your dad.”
“It would seem so.”
“Will you be able to forgive her?”
Strange, but he enjoyed talking to her. Needed to talk to her. “He loves her, too, so I don’t see any way around it.”
Cherry hugged him tight. “You two talked?”
“Yeah.” He cupped her face. “We’re...getting there.”
She pressed her cheek into his palm, then took his wrist and brought his hand around so she could examine his bruised knuckles. “You’re really good, aren’t you?”
“I got you, didn’t I?” When she didn’t laugh or even smile, he tipped up her face. “I do well enough, but you can’t judge by any of this. Carver and his idiot brothers are thugs, not trained fighters.”
He heard the shaky emotion when she whispered like a confession, “I was so worried.”
“I know you were and I understand why. If Carver had fired that gun...” That thought made him feel it all over again, and he crushed her close. He wanted to hug her so tightly, hold her so long that she forgot about the past and everything she’d lived through.
“You saved me.”
“You’re here because of me.” He looked around the yard. He’d grown up here. The conflict with Pamela hadn’t tainted his impression of his childhood home, but what just happened to Cherry...he’d never again be here without remembering.
“Denver?”
“Hmm?”
“What now?”
Reese and Logan showed up in person, and they had a few uniformed cops with them, too. Armie was on his cell, probably talking to Cannon. Inside the house he could hear the paramedics and his father, likely fetching Gene from the wine cellar where Denver had locked him in for safekeeping.
“You don’t mean now, today, do you?”
She shook her head. “I mean now, between you and me.”
With everything that had just happened, she should have been in tears, not pondering their future together. The fact t
hat she was proved her strength.
A match to his own.
“I have some options I’d like to offer up.”
Her mouth twitched. “Go for it.”
After a soft kiss, he said, “I think we should stay together.”
“With you so far.”
“You’ve been embarrassed about your past when there was no reason. I’m not the only one who looks at you and thinks it’s amazing that you did so much with so little.”
“So much?” Cherry shook her head. “I don’t have any money. I barely have enough of my own funds to stay afloat.”
Denver smiled at her. “Together, we have enough, girl. I already told you that.”
“I live in the downstairs of Rissy’s house.”
“No, you live with me.” He wanted no misunderstandings on that. He sucked in a breath, then bit the bullet. “Will you marry me?”
She went still, and now tears filled her eyes. “You mean it?”
“I love you.” He saw everyone start toward them, Logan and Armie, his father and Pamela. “Say yes.”
She nodded hard instead, swallowed audibly, and buried her face in his throat. “Yes.”
Armie drew up short, his expression appalled. “She okay?” he asked in a whisper, as if Cherry couldn’t hear him.
“Yeah.” Denver cradled her close and ran his hand up and down her back.
“I could check her,” his dad offered.
Cherry shook her head. “No.”
The croak in her voice made Denver smile. “Girl, you need to say something to Armie before he starts crying, too.”
Without showing herself, she wailed, “I’m just happy!”
Laughing, Denver stood with her in his arms. Insane after everything they’d just gone through, the threat to Cherry, the adrenaline dump and the damage to his knuckles, but he felt better than he had in years.
“You are so strong,” she whispered.
“Not strong enough to resist you.” He started toward Logan. “I’m guessing we need to answer some questions.”
“I’m ready.” She wiped her eyes on his shoulder, peeked up at Armie and his father, then nestled in tight again. “We should wait to get married until after Cannon and Yvette.”
That made him pause. “Why?”
“We don’t want to steal their thunder, and now that I have you, I don’t mind waiting just a little bit. Maybe after your fight?”
Hell, he’d forgotten he had a fight right after Cannon’s wedding. “Yeah, not a bad plan.”
She hugged him again. “If you don’t mind, I prefer a much smaller wedding.”
“As long as your idea of small includes the guys.”
“Of course it does.” Tentatively, she asked, “And your father and Pamela. Is that okay?”
He was slowly coming to terms with it, but he said only, “Whatever you want.”
“Oh, now a girl could do all kinds of things with a promise like that.”
Denver grinned with her. “It’s all good, as long as you know you’re mine.”
“I always have been.” With her nose red, her eyes glassy, she kissed him. “And I always will be.”
* * *
CANNON AND YVETTE’S wedding was a massive success, even though the best man had a very colorful black eye, and the maid of honor couldn’t stop smiling.
Denver stood at the cash bar with Stack and Armie, watching the ladies dance. They’d shed their shoes and their fancy hairdos were starting to droop.
Armie, looking very slick in his tux despite his badly bruised face, had already danced with nearly every woman there. Now that he had a fight date set with the SBC, he was even more popular—and was working harder than ever.
When the music stopped, Denver cocked a brow.
Armie nudged Stack. “Yvette is going to throw the bouquet, and hate to break it to you, but Vanity looks determined to catch it.”
Stack didn’t take his gaze off Vanity. He stared at her with such heated intensity that Denver had a hard time not laughing.
“Dude,” Armie said. “She’s going to go up in flames if you don’t cool it.”
“I’m in a good mood, Armie, and nothing you say is going to change that.”
Denver knew it was because today was the day he and Vanity had agreed to sleep together. He said nothing, of course, but few would miss the sparks between them.
Yvette, looking incredibly beautiful in her gown, sent the bouquet sailing—straight toward Vanity. At the last second, Vanity sidestepped, and it almost hit Cherry in the face.
Surprised, she managed to juggle it until it was secure in her arms. Denver grinned as she blew her blond curls out of her face.
Vanity peeked toward Stack, crooked her finger, and smiled.
“Later.” Stack took off so fast he almost tripped up an older couple.
“He’s got it bad,” Armie noted, “and I don’t think he realizes it.”
“He thinks it’s just sex.” Denver shrugged. “And who knows. Maybe it is.”
“Speaking of sexy women—”
“We weren’t.”
“Cherry is looking mighty happy.”
“Shut up,” Denver told him. ’Course, that didn’t stop Armie.
“When are you two tying the knot?”
Denver smiled. “Not sure yet.”
That got Armie’s attention. “But it’s on the table?”
Before he could answer, Cannon lifted Yvette up in his arms, turning a circle with her while everyone whistled and cheered and a few of the guys made bawdy comments.
Yvette waved, and together—as they were meant to be—they left the room. They could have taken a honeymoon, but neither of them were anxious to travel, so instead they’d just head home and begin their lives as a married couple.
Given Cannon’s popularity in the sport, there’d be plenty of opportunity to travel.
Now that they were gone, Denver decided he could share. He turned to see Armie sipping yet another drink. “We’re unofficially engaged.”
Choking and coughing, Armie set his drink aside. “You sly dog!” He held out his fist and Denver bumped it.
“So what about you?”
Armie stared across the room. “Got my sights set on that lush brunette over there.”
Not taking the bait, Denver shook his head. “You give yourself away by avoiding her. You know that, right?”
Rather than ask who he meant, Armie said, “No, I don’t.”
“Bullshit. You hit on every woman in sight, but refuse to even look at Merissa unless you think no one else is watching.”
Just then Merissa shyly approached. That, too, was a dead giveaway because she flat-out wasn’t shy. Only with Armie.
When she stopped in front of Armie, he froze, but only for a second.
“Hey, Stretch.”
Rolling her eyes at the nickname, she held a hand out to Armie. “Dance with me.”
“I—”
“You’ve danced with every other woman here.”
“I—”
“My brother told me to make you dance.”
Armie’s brows shot up. “He did?”
“Right before he left.” In an accusing tone, she muttered, “Something about you drinking too much and now he’s worried about you and I’m supposed to be your babysitter.”
Denver went a little wide-eyed. Hard to believe Cannon—on his way out the door—would have thrown the two of them together. But then again, maybe not. He trusted Armie more than anyone. They were as close as brothers. Who else would he have looking after his sister?
Not for a second did Denver believe that bit about Merissa looking out for Armie.
Armie laughed. “A baby bird keeping an eye on the hawk?”
“I’m well aware of your rep, Armie. No reason to throw it around.” She snatched up his hand and began backing out to the floor.
“Rissy...”
“Don’t be a coward,” she mocked. “I promise not to bite. At least, no harder than you do.
”
His face flushed, but he went along and just as they got to the middle of the floor the music changed, going slow and sultry.
Armie tried to leave again but Merissa laughed, grabbed him by the back waistband of his tux pants, and refused to let go.
Amused, Denver watched them until Logan stopped at the bar for a refill. It was interesting, the variety of Cannon’s friends. Locals young and old from the neighborhood, fighters from the rec center and beyond, including Havoc and Simon, cops, family... Everyone loved Cannon, and now they loved Yvette, too.
Logan nodded at Denver’s sling. “Anything serious?”
“Just a tweaked muscle. Happens all the time in practice. I’ll be back to full steam before the fight.” It was almost comical how Cherry fussed each time he got hurt. But she was every bit as supportive as she was concerned, and he knew when he fought, she’d be cheering the loudest.
“Good to hear it.” With a fresh drink in hand, he motioned for Denver to follow him to a quieter corner.
Denver did, but he also kept his gaze on Cherry. She’d just collapsed in a chair, her face dewy, her bouncy hair half tumbled to her shoulders, her eyes shining.
Men all around her.
He doubted she’d ever fully understand her appeal, but he did, and he counted himself damned lucky because no matter how many men admired her, or how she laughed with others, she saved all her love for him.
“I wanted to update you, if you don’t mind getting news during a wedding.”
Denver didn’t mind at all. He already knew Janet had finally recovered, only to be arrested before leaving the hospital. In addition to Carver, Mitty and Gene, a dozen or more locals and a handful of cops had also been picked up. “I’m anxious to hear.”
Logan looked at his drink, glanced out at Cherry, and smiled. “You already know they located nearly eighty grand in that old truck Cherry told us about.”
The truck where she used to hide. Muscles going tight, he nodded.
“But drugs were also recovered from their residence. They’d had them hidden in the floorboards, the walls, damn near everywhere.” He swirled his drink. “I heard it was a real hellhole. Hard to believe Cherry ever lived there.”
They both heard her laugh when Brand pulled her back to the dance floor.
Speaking the truth, Denver said, “She’s more of a fighter than any man I know.”
