by Lori Foster
She laughed with him. “I take it that was unusual for you?”
“To lose, no. Every fighter takes his knocks. But like that? Yeah, first time I was ever KO’d, and for it to happen so fast, well, let me tell ya, it sucked.” He circled again and Fallon found herself plastered to his rock-hard body. “Justice has sledgehammers for fists, and that lucky punch caught me just right.”
From directly behind her, Justice said, “Know what? I’m feeling pretty damned lucky again.”
Fallon jumped; Tom did not, so apparently he’d seen Justice approach.
Keeping her trapped to his body, Tom smiled. Now that he again had Justice’s attention, he reverted back to the insults. “One-trick ponies only go so far.”
“Maybe you only saw the one trick because you haven’t been paying attention. Besides, with you, one trick was all I needed.”
“Ouch,” Tom said with a grin. They’d stopped dancing, but he didn’t let her go. “So that’s what it takes to motivate you, huh? A little cuddle with your lady friend?”
“She’s a client.”
“You still sticking with that?”
“Hey!” Fallon finally caught on. Shoving her way free with a little more force than necessary, she glared up at Tom. “If you want to goad him into a fight, use someone other than me!”
She turned to march away, but Justice caught her hand and anchored her to his side, ruining her dramatic exit.
“Not just yet, Fallon,” Justice said when she tugged against his restraint. “Tom has something he wants to tell you.”
Oh, good grief. She didn’t want to hear anything else he had to say.
Voice jovial, Tom said, “He’s right. I promise I only wanted to dance, not incite violence. I’m sorry if my teasing made you think otherwise.”
So...had she overreacted?
It didn’t matter because Justice said, “She’s off-limits.”
Tom lifted a brow. “Yeah? For what?”
Sounding as if he chewed gravel, Justice growled, “Everything.”
“Ah, I didn’t realize.” Still fighting a smile, Tom looked down at her. “Really, no insult intended, so will you forgive me?”
She felt like a spectacle. “Yes, of course.”
Tom clapped Justice on the shoulder. “Call a truce, Justice. You’re making her nervous.”
Justice said nothing, but he nodded.
“Good. I want a rematch, you know that. But I don’t want or need a barroom brawl. You gotta know I’m not after that.”
Justice loosened his stance. “Yeah, I do.”
“Thanks.” Tom saluted them both and departed.
When she and Justice turned and headed toward a table, Cannon and Armie applauded.
After that, the guys razzed Justice endlessly about being a bodyguard. They heralded him for being oh-so-meticulous in his duties, calling him keenly thorough in exploring every possible threat, both real and imagined.
Fallon would have been offended for him again, except that the guys infused enough obvious respect in their tones for her to know it was only good-natured ribbing.
Justice grinned, in fact, when he gave them each a one-finger salute. Minutes later when the questions started, he patiently answered each one. Miles, especially, seemed interested in the different duties required of a bodyguard.
Fallon didn’t mind any of it, until the talk turned to Marcus.
“Ex-boyfriend?” Cannon asked. “I’ve had some experience with those.”
Armie raised his hand. “Me, too.”
“No,” Fallon denied. “He was never really—”
“He was,” Justice interrupted. “But not anymore. Now he’s just a pita.”
“Pita?” Fallon asked.
“Pain in the ass,” Justice explained.
Because she couldn’t deny that, Fallon turned the topic to kids, and for the next forty minutes or so, the men talked about their babies. It seemed they had enough stories to last the night.
When Cannon got a text, he read it and stood. “The party finally broke up at my house. I’m heading home.”
Armie was right behind him. “That means I can go now, too.”
Stack, who she’d met earlier, shook his head at both of them, then finished his bottle of water. “Pathetic.” He yawned elaborately and claimed his wife, Vanity, would be waiting for him.
Justice brought her to her feet. “You ready to call it a night?”
“I—” Her words got cut off as each of the men drew her around for a hug. She got passed from one big, hard body to the next, with praise on her pool shooting skills, her dancing, how she’d put Tom in his place, how well she handled Justice...on and on with invented qualities. Well, except for the games of pool. She really had done well there.
Lastly, Stack asked, “You’ll be there next weekend for the fights? Vanity would enjoy meeting you.”
She glanced at Justice in time to see him rolling his eyes.
Guessing that it was a special weekend for him to spend with his close friends, she knew she couldn’t interrupt. “It’s probably better if I don’t—”
“You can all stop twisting my arm,” Justice announced right before hauling her back over to his side. “She’ll be there.”
Fallon would have objected, but Justice hurried her out the door. She glanced back in time to see the others all grinning.
CHAPTER SIX
THE FOLLOWING WEEK passed in a near blur of happiness. As requested, Fallon presented Justice with an itinerary of the places she wanted to go. Because she’d listed a lot, she didn’t expect to get to everything. She’d assumed Justice would pick and choose and let her know what was easiest.
Instead, he covered everything on her wish list, which meant they spent all day, every day, together.
Usually, he’d show up late morning to early afternoon after spending a few hours scoping out their immediate destination. Given the time of day, they’d head to lunch first thing. Justice arranged it so she got to visit nearly every area restaurant, from the mom-and-pop diners to the fast-food chains to the trendy spots. Fallon got him to try a few new things, and she learned the places he liked best.
They spent an entire day at the street fair and even got a caricature drawing of them together. Because the artist drew Justice so comically big, and her eyes so enormous, Fallon couldn’t stop laughing over it.
Other days were spent at the art museum, a flower show, a butterfly show at the conservatory, a Star Trek exhibit and an outdoor sculpture display at a park. Justice enjoyed the Star Trek exhibit best, and she most enjoyed the flower show. But all of it was terrific.
Tomorrow would be his friend’s fight and she was excited, so when Justice showed up late morning, she had a dozen questions ready for him.
When she opened the door and saw him, though, she forgot much of what she’d planned to ask. “You look tired.”
Around a wide yawn, he said, “I’m fine.”
“Fine my foot.” Had she been running him too much? True, they’d been on the go almost nonstop for days. But he hadn’t once complained.
It was only ten, a little earlier than usual, and bright sunshine poured over the steps and surrounding landscape, reflecting off the black SUV Justice drove. A perfect day for the river walk she’d planned, but Fallon was ready to call it quits. Justice, she decided, looked like he needed a nice long nap.
She was about to tell him the change in plans when her mother stepped up behind her and invited him in.
“Join us for a cup of tea.”
He quickly removed the dark sunglasses, saying, “No thank you, ma’am. Not a tea drinker.”
“Coffee then.”
“I brought my own. It’s in the car.”
Her mother, unfortunately, wasn’t t
aking no for an answer. “Fallon needs to get her sunscreen. Please, come in.” Her mother held the door open and waited.
Hooking his glasses on the front of his T-shirt, Justice reluctantly stepped in, and immediately looked ill at ease.
“My husband is gone for the weekend or I’m certain he’d enjoy saying hello, as well.”
Justice didn’t look convinced. “Off on business?”
“Yes.” She indicated a chair, leaving Justice no choice but to sit. “Fallon, honey, would you make some coffee?”
She didn’t want to, but the kitchen was close enough to the sitting room that she’d be able to listen in. “All right.” She rushed off to do the prep so she could rejoin them while it perked.
From a distance, she heard her mother say, “May I ask you something, Justice?”
“Shoot.”
“Is that hairstyle popular among fighters?”
Fallon almost choked.
Justice just laughed. “Not sure I’d say it’s popular anywhere, especially right now. I haven’t trimmed it in a while. When I was fighting, though, I’d dye it orange.”
“Orange? Somewhat like a...rooster?”
“Somewhat,” he agreed, his tone teasing. “But there are a lot of words for rooster, ya know?”
Oh, dear Lord. Fallon dumped water into the coffeemaker and rushed back to the room. She got there in time to see her mother laughing.
Justice smiled at her, then ran a hand over his head. “Now that I’m not fighting, I’ve kinda lost interest. Guess I should either shape it up or shave it off.”
“Well,” her mother said, “I find it interesting. So please don’t bother on my account.”
His mouth quirked. “No, ma’am.”
Horrified over the subject for several reasons, Fallon bit her lip. Luckily, he mother didn’t seem scandalized, and Justice didn’t look offended.
“The coffee will be ready in a minute.” She studied Justice’s face and saw the tiredness there. “We can reschedule for another day if you’d like to rest.”
He clutched his heart and groaned. “Don’t unman me in front of your ma. What would she think of me if you’re all bushytailed and I’m pooped out when we’ve been doing the same thing?”
“Her ma,” Mrs. Wade quipped, “would think you’re hilarious.”
For some reason, Fallon’s face went hot. Probably from the way he spoke so casually in front of her very formal mother—and how her mother teased back. “We haven’t been. You leave earlier each day to inspect the route and venue and...whatever else it is bodyguards do.”
Justice gave her a level, very intense look. “I ensure your safety. That’s everything I do.”
She had no reply for that, but it didn’t matter because Justice wasn’t done yet anyway.
“And I go where you go. This is your time, so don’t worry about me.” He stretched. “Besides, I’m tired because of my grandma.”
“Your grandma?” she asked.
“That coffee ready yet?”
“Oh, yes.” With haste so she wouldn’t miss the story, Fallon filled a cup and brought it to him. Creamer and sugar were already on the table. “So,” she said as she handed him the cup, “what was that about your grandma?”
“She had to go into the hospital last night.” He dropped a spoonful of sugar into the coffee and sipped appreciatively. “I spent the night there with her. My mother came up this morning, so I was able to leave.”
Fallon and her mother both stared at him. He’d spent the night with his grandmother at the hospital?
“I hope she’s okay,” Fallon finally thought to say.
“Yeah, she’s a tough old bird. Insists on living alone and for the most part, she gets around okay. But even though her eyesight is bad, she refuses to wear glasses, so it’s no surprise that she tripped over the stoop. We thought she might have broken a hip in the fall. Since she gives the docs a really hard time, it’s always better if my mom or I are with her to sort of smooth things over.” He grinned. “Otherwise she might’ve gotten herself shoved out the door just for being so ornery.”
“You say that with a great deal of affection,” her mother noted.
“Yeah. Granny’s a keeper.” Justice drank more of his coffee, then sat back. Muscles rolled in his shoulders as he relaxed, and yet his abdomen stayed firm and flat beneath the T-shirt. “The doc came in to see her this morning right before my mom got there. She’s bruised up real good, but no breaks, thank goodness. She and my mom were arguing when I left.” He grinned.
“Arguing?” Fallon asked.
“Yeah, see, Mom says Granny has to come home with her until she’s fit again, but Granny said she wasn’t a baby and didn’t need a sitter. Still, I’d put my money on Mom. She can be stubborn as a goat when the mood strikes her. Not stubborn enough to get Granny to wear her glasses, but otherwise, she usually wins.”
“Why won’t she wear her glasses?” her mom asked.
Justice shrugged. “Says it makes her look old.”
Fascinated by this glimpse into his life, Fallon pulled out a chair. “How old is your grandmother?”
Justice rubbed his jaw. “Let’s see. Mom’s sixty now, so Granny must be eighty-five or thereabouts. It’s hard to believe, with me being such a lug, but they’re both itty-bitty things. Mom’s maybe five-one, and now that she doesn’t stand so straight, Granny’s barely five feet.”
“Amazing.” Fallon’s mother sat forward. “So your father is a large man?”
“Was. He died when I was real young. An accident at the factory where he worked. I was only three so I don’t remember much about him, but Mom has the house full of photos and between her and Granny, I’ve heard every story there is about Dad, twice.”
Sympathy left a knot in Fallon’s chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay.”
“So...” Her mother faltered, cleared her throat, and continued with “Granny is your father’s mother?”
“Nope. But she loved my dad, too, said he really made my mom shine.” Justice smiled with some memory. “Dad and Granny liked to play poker. To hear my mom tell it, they had some serious competition going. Knowing my grandma, I can imagine it got loud and rowdy on occasion.”
“Your mother never remarried?”
He laughed. “No. She said she started with the best and wasn’t taking second pick for anyone. I think she’s been content.” After finishing off his coffee, he pushed back his chair and looked toward Fallon. “You ready to go?”
Lost to thoughts of Justice as a little boy, she jumped. “Oh, yes. Of course.” She quickly gathered up their cups and carried them to the dishwasher.
Her mother protested. “You don’t have to fool with that, honey. Lindsey will be in later today.”
“I don’t mind.”
Minutes later, she and Justice got into the SUV. She noticed the shirts in the backseat and was going to ask him about it, but Justice diverted her.
“Who’s Lindsey?”
Because she liked the woman a lot, Fallon smiled. “She helps out around the house.”
“Helps out how?”
“During the first part of the week she only does light housekeeping, but on Friday she does the bigger stuff, like laundry and changing the sheets on the beds and grocery shopping. That’s why I don’t like to leave little messes for her to contend with. She’s got enough to do today.”
“I’m guessing in a house that size, you have other staff?”
“Yes.” Fallon tipped her head, watching him drive. “We have a landscaper who takes care of the property. Lindsey’s there every day except the weekends, and once a month a cleaning crew comes in to do the heavier work, like washing down all the walls, polishing the floors, things like that.” Now that she said it,
it sounded extravagant when she’d never really thought of it like that before. “Why do you ask?”
“Seems like there are a lot of people coming and going. I don’t like it.” His brows pulled together. “Mind giving me some names and their contact info?”
Unbelievable. The man looked exhausted, but he wanted to take on more work? Crazy.
Folding her arms across her chest, Fallon said, “Actually, yes. I mind.” She didn’t want things to get out of hand. “I promise you, my father is extremely diligent in ensuring all personal employees are vetted. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“But he’s out of town for the weekend.”
“That happens a lot, Justice. Dad travels often for business, plus he takes a lot of golfing trips.”
She could see that Justice didn’t want to let it go.
Sighing, Fallon added, “We have a top-of-the-line security system. You should realize that. I mean, look at how overboard Dad is about me going out anywhere.”
They were almost out of the long drive when Marcus turned in.
Justice looked first stunned, then irate. He steered into the middle of the drive, blocking Marcus, and put the car in Park.
Uh-oh. “Do not start anything,” Fallon warned.
“Wouldn’t.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a mean smile. “But he’s not coming in. I heard your dad forbid him.”
“Dad did what?” How come she didn’t know about that?
“Told him not to come around uninvited.”
She jumped on that. “So maybe my mother invited him.”
Doubtful, he glanced at her. “You really think she might’ve?”
No, she didn’t. Huffing, Fallon said, “How should I know?”
“You big faker.” He reached out and tweaked her chin. “I’m betting your mom doesn’t like him enough to go against your dad’s wishes.”
Marcus got out of his idling car and slammed the door.
Fallon grabbed Justice’s arm. “I mean it, Justice. Don’t you dare do anything...physical.”
“Afraid I’ll smash the little worm?”
“No. You don’t strike me as a bully.”
