Tough Love: Back to Buckhorn

by Lori Foster

  Nothing had come from pressuring the guys who’d jumped him. Neither of the men had been approached for a repeat performance, and until they were, they wouldn’t know anything new. They’d been hired and paid by a nameless thug. End of story.

  He hoped.

  With his arm now healed, Stack felt less inclined to keep chasing the problem. Leese hadn’t seen the woman again, and nothing more had happened. They’d all keep an eye out, Vanity wasn’t at risk, so what did it matter?

  He had better things to concentrate on—like the woman sleeping beside him.

  For once he’d awakened before her, so Stack rose to an elbow to look at her. He’d never tire of seeing Vanity like this, relaxed, at her ease with him.

  Naked.

  In public, Vanity was comfortable with her body, but still somewhat modest. She didn’t dress for sex appeal as much as comfort.

  In private, however, she reveled in a lack of inhibition.

  For years, he’d wondered how a woman could ever fit into his life. Being a fighter brought its own challenges to a relationship. Women, in his experience, could be needy. For time, attention. And not overly understanding, not with the hours it took to train, and the travel involved in competing.

  Vanity didn’t fit any of those preconceived notions.

  She might look high-maintenance, but she had no problem getting sweaty at the gym. She put her all into her workouts, and got along great with the other fighters.

  He couldn’t imagine a woman more delicate than her, but her independence rivaled his own. She wanted him, but she didn’t need him. Somehow that felt more complimentary.

  She had talent that she discounted. Money that she didn’t flaunt.

  And she was honest with him, about everything. No doubt about it, Vanity was one of the hottest women he’d ever seen, but it was her bold tendency to speak her mind that he found most appealing.

  “Hey.” Drowsily, she scooted closer, slipping an arm around his waist and hooking a leg over his. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “No reason to.” His fingertips sought her silky skin, trailing over the arm she had around him. “It’s early still.”

  “But you’re awake,” she said sleepily. “So I want to be awake with you.”

  Going to his back, Stack pulled her over him. They had sex every day, often twice a day, and still he didn’t think he could ever get enough of her. “What do you have planned today?”

  “Hmm...” Her murmur faded away to soft, warm breaths against his flesh.

  It took so little for her to scald him with lust. He thought of her, and he strained with need.

  Time ticked by. Stack assumed she’d fallen back asleep. He was okay with that. Much as he wanted her, holding her was equally nice. He kissed the top of her head over the crooked part in her hair.

  As if that roused her, she whispered, “Well, first, there’s this handsome fighter I need to debauch.”

  In a million different ways, she amused him. “Debauch, huh?” That sounded intriguing.

  “Thoroughly.” She squirmed against his erection, making his breath catch and his muscles tighten. “After we recover from that, I need to make my arrangements for Denver’s fight.”

  Luckily, they didn’t have to travel far, just to Columbus. Drivable distance. “You’re staying the night?”

  “Yes.” Her hand traveled over his heated skin. “Will you have time to sneak to my room?”

  “Count on it.” Usually at a fight, either for himself or a friend, he stayed totally focused until the competition ended. With Vanity there, accessible, he knew that wouldn’t be possible. “I’m sorry I can’t ride up with you.” The fighters would leave for Columbus a few days beforehand. Whenever possible, the organization liked to schedule local talent to greet the fans, autograph memorabilia, mug for pictures, all in all, talk up the sport. Stack wasn’t competing, but before the actual night of the competition he’d take part in all the promo and a few interviews, as would Cannon, Gage and Armie.

  Leese would stay behind to keep the rec center running; that was something they took turns doing. Not that Harper, Gage’s wife, couldn’t handle it in their absence. She could probably run Union Terminal without breaking a sweat. But since the rec center’s inception, the guys had made a point of always having at least one of them around...just in case.

  “It’s okay,” Vanity mumbled around a yawn. “Cherry and Merissa are going up together, so Yvette will ride with me. Besides, you’ll probably be too busy to even think about me.”

  Never that. Hell, he missed her the second he stepped out the door. But admitting it didn’t feel right. Their relationship was still too new, too tentative.

  And in the back of his mind, resentment lingered over the way Whitney had burned him. Never again would he take a chance on getting duped like that.

  Unaware of his thoughts, Vanity pressed a kiss to his ribs. “After I take care of that, I’m working for Yvette at the shop, and then doing a photo shoot for another department store. But I should be home early.”

  Home. He loved the sound of that. Her modest house felt like a real home, especially with Vanity in it. Already his clothes had a place in her closet and dresser. She’d designated a spot in the bathroom for his toothbrush and razor. They took turns cooking and cleaning, depending on who was available.

  Without either of them confirming it aloud, they were now living together.

  Vanity’s fingertips moved over his chest. “Want me to cook dinner?”

  “Or I could take you out for once.”

  “Mmm.” She slowly scooted up to nuzzle his neck. “Maybe Rowdy’s? We haven’t been there in forever.”

  If less than a week was forever. But the bar was so popular, pretty much everyone enjoyed hanging out there. “Sounds good.” Stack teased a finger along her spine, and lowered his voice suggestively. “Long as we don’t stay too late.”

  “Right. Because I’m pretty sure I’ll need to debauch you again tonight.”

  Damn, he loved her enthusiasm.

  Knowing it’d be a touchy subject for her, he stroked her hair as he asked, “When are the dogs going back to Tabby?”

  She rose up to look at him with sleep-heavy eyes. That impossibly long, fair hair fell around them, draping his shoulders, spilling over his chest. He smoothed it back and to one side, then couldn’t help admiring her breasts, mostly squashed against his chest. He could feel her stiffened nipples.

  No way to ignore that.

  “The dogs will go to your mother’s. You didn’t know that?”

  Yesterday his mother had insisted on returning to her own place. He’d stopped in to check on her, and of course he’d run into Vanity there. She’d infiltrated his family with ease, and as often as not, when he saw his mother and sister, they spent half their time talking about her.

  His mother wouldn’t stop singing Vanity’s praises, claiming repeatedly that she was “a keeper.” Tabby took a different tact, warning him not to screw up, telling him Vanity was so beautiful, she could have any man she wanted, but she’d chosen him and he should appreciate that.

  Vanity was gorgeous, no denying that.

  But as she’d often reminded him, looks weren’t everything. What Vanity didn’t seem to realize was that he found her even more beautiful inside than out.

  “Stack?”

  More and more around her, he had a hard time keeping on track. “Mom’s retired. She shouldn’t have to care for Tabby’s dogs.”

  “Stack,” she said again, this time with censure. Dipping down, she kissed him. “Lynn loves those dogs as much as I do. As much as you do.” She rubbed her nose against his, then scooted to sit up beside him. “Plus, I think she’s lonely. She misses your dad so much.”

  “I know.” Stack deeply appreciated Vanity’s empathy to others.
She had a very big heart. “You think the dogs keep her company?”

  “Yes. And they give her a focus.” Going thoughtful, she pulled her hair over her shoulder and began braiding it. “You know I’m right, you’re just set on being annoyed about it.”

  Stack put his hands behind his head and enjoyed the view of Vanity naked, doing something so infinitely feminine. “I’m not annoyed. But I would like to see Tabby accept her responsibilities. For her, as much as for my mom. I think she’ll be happier if she does.”

  “I agree, and I know she’s trying.”

  Stack smiled. “You know something? You treat Tabby like a kid sister, but she’s eight years older than you.”

  Vanity shrugged, which did interesting things to her bare breasts. “I’ve had an easier life than she has.”

  It astounded him that she thought so. For most of her life Tabby had been spoiled by two loving parents, was still spoiled by their mother. Vanity came from a dysfunctional home, and now she had no one.

  Stack immediately rethought that. She had him. She had his family. He wondered if she realized that.

  Vanity eyed him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Because you’re very special.” He lifted his chin. “Now come here and debauch me as promised.”

  Gaze smoldering, she released her hair and leaned toward him.

  With incomparable timing, his cell phone rang.

  Vanity bounced back. “The bat signal!”

  “It’s probably nothing.” Many times, the extra cells were used to share info, not for anything urgent. Using the cell with the special ringtone ensured the call would be answered, rather than put on hold for other, possibly more corporal pursuits.

  The lost moment frustrated Stack. Rolling to sit on the side of the bed, he grabbed the cell, glanced at the caller ID and answered. “What’s up, Leese?”

  Crowding in close behind him, her breasts to his back, Vanity draped her arms over his shoulders and listened in. To let her know he didn’t mind, Stack curled a hand over her forearm.

  Leese said, “Sorry to call so early.”

  “No problem. Assume it’s important.”

  “Yeah, remember how that chick said a drug dealer had hired the guys to jump you? Now she says he’s been hired to kill you.”

  Whoa. Slowly Stack stood; he couldn’t take the distraction of Vanity inciting his lust right now. “No shit?”

  “That’s what she said. I was heading out for a jog early this morning, and she was at the park. I swear, I think she was waiting for me. She didn’t look like an early bird, and she wasn’t dressed to jog. She called me over and told me to tell you to watch your ass because the dealer was hiring better guys to make a second run against you.”

  Stack whistled. Murder. Okay, so maybe he wouldn’t let it go after all.

  “She also said the dealer had nothing against you, that someone else had hired him to arrange the hit on you.” Filled with disgust, Leese added, “From what I gathered, you were supposed to be beat near to death that first time.”

  “And that’s the best they sent?”

  With a shrug in his tone, Leese said, “Apparently the guy who paid the dealer was pissed that better men hadn’t been sent. From what she said, he’s out to correct that mistake this time.”

  Leese drew a breath. “For the record, I pressed for her name, but she refused to share it. If you ask me, it’s so fishy it reeks, but I wanted you to know.”

  Unbelievable. “I’ll talk to Cannon.” Until now, Stack hadn’t considered the situation too important. But this news changed everything. “He has an in with the cops.”

  “Right. The detectives and lieutenant that were at his wedding. I remember.” Leese was silent a moment, then said, “Not sure how factual any of this is, but you should stay on guard.”

  Stack heard the implication. “Go on.”

  “I think she knows you, dude. Sounded that way to me. She didn’t really talk about you the way someone would a stranger.”

  Suspicions gelled. “Can you describe her again?”

  “Even though it was still dark, I took a better look this time. Light blue eyes. Brown hair with a little bit of a reddish tint, at least that’s how it looked under the street lamp. She had it down this time, a little past her shoulders. She’s shapely, with a big rack.”

  Whitney. “Around twenty-five or so?”

  “That’d be my guess.”

  “Thanks, Leese.” A knock sounded on Vanity’s front door. Stack held her back when she started to leave the bed. To Leese he said, “I owe you one.”

  “Or two, but who’s keeping count? I hope the info helps. If there’s anything you need...”

  He left that open-ended, maybe because Stack had been so resistant to Leese’s friendship with Vanity. Now, with the possibility of real danger, he’d as soon every fighter keep an eye on her.

  “Thanks, man. If I do, I’ll be in touch.” Stack disconnected the call and pulled on his jeans, saying to Vanity, “I’ll get the door while you get dressed.”

  “Okay, but be careful!”

  She couldn’t know the specifics of the conversation, but Vanity was good at picking up on cues. Another of her endearing qualities.

  The minute he left the bedroom, Norwood and Maggie fell into step beside him. Extra cautious with Vanity nearby, Stack lifted a side curtain and saw his sister standing on the porch.

  He jerked the door open. “Tabby?”

  She looked surprised to see him.

  Given the tear tracks marring her cheeks, he was more surprised. “What’s wrong?”

  “Stack!” She threw herself against him.

  Automatically he gathered her close. Many times, in many ways, his sister made him nuts. But he loved her, and to this day he couldn’t be immune to her tears, common as they might be. “Are you okay?”

  “I thought you’d be gone already.”

  So she’d brought the drama to Vanity? Through long practice, he understood what it took to get the answers he needed. He held her back. “Mom’s okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not physically hurt?”

  “No.” She hiccupped, absently patted the anxious dogs, then faced him with trumped-up bravado. “I want to talk to Vanity.”

  When he said nothing, the tears started flowing again.

  From behind them, Vanity said, “What’s going on? Tabby?”

  To Stack’s annoyance, Tabby abandoned him and ran to Vanity.

  Worse, Vanity opened her arms and offered comfort. “Shh. It’s okay now. I’m here.”

  Stack resisted the urge to growl.

  “I need to...to...talk to you.” She cast Stack a glance. “A...alone.”

  Vanity gazed at Stack with silent apology.

  Amazing how fast a day could go to hell. “Come on.” Stack pulled his sister away and got them all started for the kitchen. “First, no, I’m not leaving you here alone with Vanity.”

  Her face crumpled again.

  Stack ignored it. “Take a seat. The dogs need to go out, and I need coffee.”

  “I’ll get the coffee going,” Vanity offered. She seemed anxious to have something to do. Not that he could blame her. Anything was preferable to being the recipient of Tabby’s tears.

  Stack pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and pressed his sister into it, then handed her two napkins so she could clean her face. Next he opened the back door and whistled for the dogs. As soon as Norwood and Maggie ran out to the yard, he went to Vanity, kissed her cheek and whispered, “Sorry.”

  She sent him a soft smile—as if she was proud of him for something. Had she expected him to close the door on his own sister? To deny her? No, he didn’t like Tabby’s theatrics, but she was his sister through the good and the
bad.

  Feeling as if he faced the gallows, Stack joined Tabby at the table. She looked marginally composed now—but also capable of letting loose again if he said the wrong thing. “Better?”

  She sniffled. “Yes.”

  “Tell me what’s going on.”

  She clutched the wadded napkins in her hands and looked to Vanity for support.

  “Go on,” Vanity urged her. “It’ll be okay.”

  Tabby nodded, drew a breath and blurted, “I’ve left Phil.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  WELL, HELL. STACK SAT back in his seat, studied his sister’s anxious face, then Vanity’s expectant expression, and he shook his head. The irony of it almost made him laugh. “I really wish you hadn’t done that.”

  Both women gawked at him.

  Stack squeezed the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on, and the day had barely begun. A day that, moments ago, had seemed so promising with sizzling sex on the breakfast menu.

  “Stack.” Scowling, Vanity touched his arm. “You know you’re pleased that your sister has left Phil. It’s what you wanted. Tell her so.”

  Un-freaking-believable. “Are you instructing me?”

  She frowned at him, her gaze unflinching. “If I need to, yes.”

  The bold way she tried to stare him down made his mouth quirk. Damn, but he loved her. It struck him that he’d probably loved her for a while now.

  Likely even before she’d made the offer of uncommitted sex.

  The coffeepot finished sputtering, so he got up and poured three mugs. He knew how both Vanity and his sister drank theirs, so while he prepped the drinks, he shared his thoughts.

  “You’re serious, Tabby? You won’t change your mind?”

  “I won’t.” She swallowed hard again. “You were right about him all along. I know I’ve been an idiot.”

  Stack handed her the coffee with sugar and cream. Then he kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re done with him.”

  “You are?”

  “He was never good enough for you.”

  The women shared a knowing look.

  Stack handed the second mug to Vanity. “You knew this was coming?”