by TC Matson
“Astounding. Un-fucking-believable.”
“You seemed to be losing steam toward the end. Talk us through it,” he says.
“I wanted the win. I had a lot to prove,” I say.
“Other than wanting to win, what helped you through it? What gave you the drive?”
I squeeze Whit’s waist and give her a quick glance. “My wife. I wish I had half the strength as her.” I catch a glimpse of Mr. Walker and I take the reporter’s microphone, twisting toward Walker. “I don’t like to be doubted, Mr. Walker.” I call out snatching his attention. “I promised you I’d win.”
He smiles politely. “You’re a brazen man.”
I drop the mic. “We don’t always have to see eye to eye, but don’t you ever shut me out without my say-so again. You can play dirty, but I’m dirtier. I’m the one in this ring. You’re the one paying. Either we come to an understanding, or I quit.”
Whitney gasps, but I move her out from my side.
“No more unnecessary stabs, Mr. Walker. It’s a fighter’s world in here. I counted on the commissioners to be men, not dirty, heartless, assholes who throw away the very people who mark this mat with their blood. We’re never going to play nice, but since I’m the one dealing with all the bullshit, I’d like for you to at least act grateful.”
He shifts, standing straighter. “I don’t take threats lightly, Mr. Hayes.”
I narrow my eyes. “Me neither.”
“You do realize I hold your access to the professionals, the MMAP you’re so eager to be in,” he says dryly.
“Yes. I do,” I reply.
His eyes shift between mine. Long loud seconds pass when finally, the bastard genuinely smiles. “Congratulations, Mr. Hayes. You’ve come a long way. Hope the MMAP is as good to you as the MMAT was.” He looks to Whitney. “I’m glad to see you’ve healed up well. It’s nice to see you.”
I take a breath when he leaves. I’ve dwelled on this for almost a year. Dreaming of the day I had my say-so.
“What the hell was that?” Whitney whisper-yells.
“A long-awaited meeting.” I kiss her.
I’m still hyped up, still high off my winning fumes as we stroll down the hall back to the locker room. I was blessed with some vibrant blue stitches for the split above my eye. I swear to fuck it was a reminder from Levi.
Jackson and Kyce are several steps in front of us. Whitney’s beside me, her hand in mine. I tug her. “I told you not to worry.” I peer down at her, smiling smugly.
She doesn’t say anything.
“Come down from the horrified high. Since I’m a professional now, we’ll—”
“I’m pregnant.”
My feet stop. “Do what?”
She bats back tears. “I’m pregnant.”
Her words strike my heart and my pulse skips. “What? When? How?” I shake my head. “Don’t answer that. How long have you known?”
“Yesterday,” she says sounding small. “I didn’t want to tell you and be the reason to ruin your chance again.”
My face erupts into a grin. I lift her, twirling her into the air before placing her back down. I press my palm against her stomach. In there… “I’ve got a baby cooking?”
She laughs, nodding.
I grip her neck, wiping her tears with my thumbs. “I’m going to be a dad,” I say out loud, mainly for myself. I crush into her mouth, but then rip my lips from hers. “I’m going to be a dad!” I call out.
Jackson and Kyce twist around. I scoop up Whitney, my pregnant wife, and stalk toward them.
“I’m going to be a dad.”
My voice cracks and suddenly I’m so fucking overwhelmed. My vision blurs and I drop my head to Whit’s forehead. “I knew the day I married you would be the day you set my world ablaze. You’re the best fucking gift I’ve ever been given.”
She touches my cheek. “You’re crying,” she says softly, like I don’t fucking know this.
“My wife, the woman I love so fucking immensely, is pregnant. My little family. And I find this out after I win my way into the pros. All my dreams have come from your hands.” I swallow, kissing her lips. “So, yeah. I think that’s a good enough excuse to break.”
Epilogue
“Oh, my god. Would you chill out?”
“No,” he states simply.
“Ryker. You’re going to irritate the hell out of me.”
He grins. “Will you cut those evil eyes at me while I handle myself?”
“You’re disgusting,” I manage without a laugh. But I break when he laughs, and I titter.
“You can’t stay mad at me,” he says walking us up the steps. He bends to kiss my cheek. “I’m too good-looking for you to stew with pissyness.”
I roll my eyes, mirthfully. “You’re exhausting.”
Why? Why did I give him that ammo?
He flicks his gaze to me. “You’ve never complained when I leave you sated after hours—”
“What have I done to be punished by you?” My tone is frisky and sarcastic.
“Loved me.” He flashes a grin and pushes open the door.
“Welcome home!” Everyone scares the hell out of me, shouting in unison.
I yelp, stumbling backward, but Ryker’s hands are there to brace my back. His eyes laugh at me. His lips twitching to let loose. I raise a brow at him.
“You knew?”
He spreads his hands to the side. “Surprise?” He laughs.
“Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” Candice skips to me with her grabby hands out. “I want my nephew.”
Easily, she takes Kaden from me and sits on the couch. Everyone coos and ahhs huddling around her.
“You look good with a baby,” Kyce says.
Immediately her head jerks to him. “You planning on impregnating me?”
Oh god. Ammo. We’re on a roll at passing it out.
Kyce blows her a kiss. “No, but I’d practice like hell.”
Suddenly, Harold smacks Kyce upside the head. “Watch your mouth,” he chastises.
I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
Ryker wraps Kyce in a headlock. “Yeah. Watch your mouth around my son.”
“Like you have any room to talk,” Kyce grunts. “Get off me.”
“Aww what’s wrong baby brother? Sad you’re no longer the baby Hayes?” Ryker jests.
It doesn’t take long for Jackson to add his two cents. “He was at work the other day brooding because, and I quote, ‘all eyes are going to be on Ryker…again.’”
“You’re a chump,” Ryker squeezes his neck tighter. “I’ve always been better to look at.”
“There’s where you’re wrong,” Jackson steps beside him and quickly pulls Ryker’s head into the crook of his arm. “I’m the preferred, strongest, best looking of the Hayes.”
“Excuse me?” Harold rotates toward the three stooges. “I believe you’ve forgotten who you got your looks from.”
“Oh burn!” Kyce calls out from the bottom.
Ryker smacks him upside the head. “Shut up, idiot. He’s talking about you too.”
“Boys,” their mother calls out sternly. “Quit.”
Everyone straightens up, taking their hands off one another.
Kyce points to Ryker. “He started it.”
Jackson reaches out behind Ryker and pops Kyce in the back of the head. “Snitch.”
Oh hell. This…is what I get to look forward to.
“Unk Ry. Can I hold him?” Gracie pulls his shirt, tilting her head to look at him.
He scoops her up and plops her on the couch. Gently, he takes Kaden from Candice and places him into her arms. All eyes fall on Ryker and how he’s looking at the two loves of his life. The two tiny pinkies he’s wrapped around. The two small hearts who owns his soul.
He blinks, clearing his throat, and looks up to me, grinning from ear to ear.
When I first met Ryker, he was arrogant, egotistical, and so sure of himself. He emitted his narcissism everywhere. But slowly, I learned there was more to him
. He fights his own battles, his own contradictions—good versus evil, strong versus compassionate, Ryker versus the Striker. Deep down, under that solid frame and the stubborn thinking is the most loyal and sweetest man I know.
And he’s all mine.
Only for me.
I’ve seen him cry twice since we’ve been together. Once when I told him I was pregnant and then again when he held Kaden for the first time. He was floored, overwhelmed with emotions he couldn’t control. It’s also the same day he showed off his new tattoo he had gotten the day before.
It says “Hayes” in the most incredible script with the tail of the Y long, supporting the T from my name and the K in Kaden’s. And the sweetness behind it…well that makes my husband even sexier because that’s the side reserved for me. Even if I called him crazy for putting my name on his body.
He’s gentle for me. Caring for me. Loving for me. Strong for me.
Is he flawed? Yes, but I wouldn’t change him for the world.
I didn’t know what I was missing in life until I caved in and allowed myself to love. But not just anyone. Him. He’s my unique euphoria.
He kisses my cheek. “Thinking about me again?”
I smile up at him. “Yeah.”
“My sexy body all over yours?” he whispers against my ear.
I shake my head. “No. Just you.”
He smirks. “How’d I ever get so lucky?”
“You threw your cocky self at me at their wedding anniversary.” I beam.
“Excuse me. I know everyone in here but you.” He taps his head. “I remember that day clearly.”
“Did you speak with Brian?” I ask switching gears.
“I did. I’m not scheduled for another few months.”
“And Carter?”
“I heard my name,” he calls out. “You’re telling him you’re leaving him for me, aren’t you?”
“Would you please quit dreaming about my wife before I knock your f-f-f…head off your shoulders?” Ryker grumbles.
Carter’s expression brightens. “Nope.”
I laugh, leaning into Ryker. “I married into chaos.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I married my fantasy.”
THE END
Thank you for reading No Hesitations.
More from TC Matson
THE FIGHTER SERIES
Levi & Paige
Blindsided (The Fighter Series #1)
UnExpected (The Fighter Series #2)
Adam & Kelsie
Awakened (The Fighter Series #3)
Ryker & Whitney
No Holds (The Fighter Series #4)
No Hesitations (The Fighter Series #5)
STANDALONES
Open House
Mistaken Identity
The Debonair Series Coming 2018
Acknowledgments
I’m horrible at these things. I always forget someone because in reality I’m surrounded by so many incredible people. But here goes…
First, my family deserves a round of applause for their patience. I’m not always around, and most the time if I am, my stories are on my mind. I love you all so very much.
My Readers—Thank you for your continued support. Without you I wouldn’t be here and I’d have no good reason to keep pushing hard. I’m forever grateful for you.
Angela—My incredibly patient, supportive, encouraging, and funny PA. Your faith in me is substantial. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you, and I thank you so very much. Between the great laughs and directional opinionated advice, you are my pillar.
Jessica—Girl! You’re work is the front line of my books. I’m so appreciative to have a friend like you who, not only keeps me cracking up, but works hard with my picky ass on teasers. You support me and push me to get the job done. Thank you!
Fran—From our friendship to our brainstorming sessions, you grow me. Thank you for being an incredible friend and for all that you do for me.
My Bangers—Our conversations keep me entertained, motivated, and laughing. There’s a special place in my heart for you. Thank you.
To the many of authors who have helped me with advice, had vent sessions, given me hilarious laughter, supported me, and talked me off the ledge—a big, colossal thank you!
About the Author
“Dreaming in Reality…You dream in reality when you pick up a book and get lost in it. In my writing, I strive to take you to a place where reality and fantasy become a blurry line. Everything should be relatable. It could happen…couldn’t it?” ~ TC Matson
TC Matson loves to let her character’s voices be heard. With a head full of stories, she puts her keyboard through a beating daily. Matson sets her sights on writing stores relatable and real. And having an understanding that love isn’t always instant and full of flowers—her writing mirrors it. She isn’t afraid to push the envelope and touch bases of uncomfortable situation.
She’s a romance junkie at heart and an avid reader. Add those two together and she will devour books within hours, getting lost in the world the author creates.
Matson resides in the peaceful Piedmont area of NC with her husband and three boys, where staying hopped up on caffeine is the key to her sanity. Chaos is indefinite and a sense of humor is an absolute must.
Connect with TC Matson
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Table of Contents
Copyright © 2017 TC Matson
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
More from TC Matson
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Connect with TC Matson
