by Lori Foster
With a strained smile, Yvette pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m going to see if Cannon needs any help.”
So the casual flirting bothered her? Armie watched her leave the kitchen, unsure what he could say to put her more at ease.
He turned back to Cherry. “You want to see a fighter’s physique up close and personal, huh?”
She faltered, her teasing used up. “Just how long were you snooping?”
“Long enough to hear about your curiosity. And I have a solution.” Just to unsettle her, he touched the snap on his jeans.
Her reaction was priceless.
He couldn’t wait to tell Denver about it.
“Relax.” Touching her chin to close her mouth, he said, “I’m not planning to strip for you.”
“Wow.” She went limp with relief, but said, “Truthfully, I’m a little disappointed.”
“Don’t be.” Cherry had wit, he’d give her that. Wit and guts, blond hair, big brown eyes and definitely a nice rack. No wonder Denver was smitten. “I have it on good authority that Denver would happily give you a show—and he’s the best-hung one in the bunch.” He winked and headed out.
Leaving Ms. Cherry Peyton speechless behind him.
When he glanced back, he saw her drop into her seat, eyes closed, one hand on her chest, the other fanning her face.
If she took the bait, Denver would owe him big time.
*
OVERALL, YVETTE FELT like the day had gotten back on track.
She liked Cannon’s sister a lot. Not once did Rissy bring up the past, though of course she was aware of everything that had happened. Her brother had played a major role in her rescue after all. But Rissy was warm and welcoming, focused on the present instead of the past and openly anxious to get to know Yvette all over again.
They talked mostly about fighting. Cannon’s sister knew nearly as much about it as Cannon himself. And since Yvette understood quite a bit, she’d enjoyed every word.
Amid his protests, Rissy gave insight into Cannon’s home life. Though they’d all been laughing, Yvette had to admit he seemed like the quintessential big brother. Capable and protective and loving.
They’d all agreed to get together again soon.
After Armie took them to get her car, they headed to the rec center.
Along the way, Cannon seemed distracted, alternately watching the road and…touching her. Her hand, her knee.
Other, more tantalizing places.
He was attentive to her, but not as focused as usual.
She understood that he was concerned about the damage to his truck, and she prayed that Heath hadn’t had anything to do with it. When she’d mentioned paying for the damage, just in case, Cannon flatly refused, then changed the subject.
“Did you enjoy yourself?”
“Your sister is terrific.”
He smiled. “Yeah.”
“I like Cherry, too.”
“Apparently everyone does, especially Denver.”
It’d be nice to have some girlfriends. “The three of us might go shopping later in the week.”
“Sounds good.” He checked the rearview mirror again, then said, “We could invite everyone over one night, too, if you want.”
Their own little party. “I’d enjoy that.” In so many subtle ways, Cannon made her feel a part of his life.
He pulled up in front of the rec center. “We’ll be here for a while. If you get bored or need to leave, let me know first, okay?”
“I won’t.” Then she rethought that. “As long as I’m not in the way…”
Leaning over, Cannon caught her nape and pulled her in for a lingering kiss. “You won’t be.”
On his way in, Stack knocked on the driver’s window. “Get a room.”
Grinning, Cannon said, “Ignore him. He’s green with envy.”
After they went in, Yvette put up with some teasing, but it was all good-natured and she didn’t mind at all.
The guys were all so different in some ways, but so very much alike in others.
They enjoyed trying to make her blush.
As Cannon had said, they were at the rec center through dinner. Yvette relished getting to know more about Cannon’s world. He was great with the kids. All the guys were, but Cannon was the best-known fighter there and the boys idolized him.
The crowd changed in the late afternoon, with older boys coming in, more men who paid for training, a few women. Cannon stayed busy with individual coaching first, then by leading a class. In between that he talked with fans, took photos, signed a few autographs and checked with her often, no matter how many times she assured him she was fine.
She loved watching him, seeing his strength mixed with gentleness. The fluid way his muscled body moved, whether he was demonstrating for the older boys or tussling with the younger. When he laughed, her heart beat harder and emotion swelled inside her.
She stood off to the side now, talking with the grandparents of two of the boys. They raved about Cannon, not just about how he’d influenced their son in a positive way but how he’d helped with their business, successfully and peacefully getting drug peddlers moved away from their corner.
She had no real rights, but pride nearly took away her breath.
She was lost in thoughts of Cannon, of his overwhelming presence, when from behind her a thick male voice whispered, “Hello, Yvette.”
Shock sent tension down her spine, and she jerked around to see Heath standing there. He smiled, a sheepish, happy smile, not at all threatening—but damn him, she knew better.
He’d actually done it, actually followed her.
From California.
Reaching out, he touched her hair with near reverence, smoothing a long tendril behind her ear. “Cat got your tongue?”
The older couple moved away, giving them privacy, and when they did Heath enveloped her, hugging her despite her lack of welcome.
She had to get it together. Right now. “Heath.” Hands on his shoulders, she levered herself away.
With obvious reluctance, he let her put distance between them.
Yvette took a step back. Heath Nordan in no way resembled a stalker creep. At six feet tall, his athletic body visible beneath an expensive polo shirt and pleated slacks, his dark hair neatly trimmed and his smile bright with welcome, he fit right in with the other men at the rec center.
Big, handsome, muscular. Happy.
To see her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
YVETTE SHOOK HER head to clear it. She didn’t bother hiding her frustration. “What in the world are you doing here?”
As if it should have been obvious, he said, “I came to see you.”
Oh, Lord. She refused to look back for Cannon. She knew if she did, if he met her gaze, he’d get dragged into her personal drama.
Yvette put a hand on Heath’s arm, urging him toward the opposite side of the gym, and hopefully out of view of the fighters. “When did you get here?”
“Early this morning.”
So he could have been the one to damage Cannon’s tires. Petty destruction was certainly his speed.
Now some distance away, on the other side of the registration area, she again moved a few feet from him. “How’d you find me?”
He laughed, and the fact that his laugh sounded so normal, merely amused instead of insane, didn’t reassure her.
“It wasn’t hard.” Again, he reached out to touch her, but Yvette dodged him, earning a slight frown. Showing his disappointment in her, he dropped his hand. “You’re hanging out with a famous fighter, who hangs out here.” He rolled one shoulder. “Didn’t take a sleuth to figure out you’d be here.”
But how did he know she’d be here now? The idea of him maybe watching her, following her, was so repugnant that she wasn’t sure how to proceed.
“Say something,” he told her, teasing, expectant.
She tried to smooth out her frown but couldn’t, and that made him frown. “Heath—”
“Don’t tell m
e to go.”
Ah. There was that unbalanced voice she’d been waiting for. It reeked of demand and desperation, underlaid with simmering rage.
“That’s what you have to do and you know it. You have to go.”
He reached out again, and this time dodging him did her no good. He locked that big, hard hand on her upper arm and, oh, God, she felt it—his determination. His intent.
Too tight. Unbreakable.
He’d never before manhandled her. But then again, he’d had a series of nasty texts to build him up to this point.
With one small tug, he brought her closer so that she almost bumped into him. “I’ve missed you,” he insisted, as if she should be thrilled to hear it. “I’ve missed us.”
Straining away, Yvette stated, “There is no us.” She tried to wiggle free, but he only clamped down harder until she winced.
“Don’t say that.” His gaze went a little wild. “Don’t ever say that. You know you don’t mean it.”
If she weren’t in such a public place, she’d give in to the urge to fight. One yell and men would be there to help her, Cannon at the front.
She knew that, and knowing it helped calm her.
Right now, she mostly wanted to avoid a scene. She’d been at the forefront of too much ugly news already. “Listen to me, Heath…”
“There you are.” Wearing only boxing shorts and fingerless gloves, his blond hair spiky with sweat, Armie invaded their space.
Did the man live at the rec center?
He had his dark gaze zeroed in on Heath, and as he looked him over, his brows lifted.
“Armie,” she said with relief. “Hi.”
“Hi, Yvette,” he said in that teasing way she’d already grown accustomed to. Still with one brow quirked, he mused, “You got a type, don’t you, doll? Big, dark…” He shook his head. “For some reason, I expected him to be different. Softer, shorter. Dopier looking.”
So Cannon had told Armie about Heath?
“Who are you?” Heath demanded. “Another boyfriend?”
“Naw. I’m just the guy who’s going to break a few of your limbs if you don’t turn her loose real quick.”
Not a single ounce of animus could be heard in his tone. In fact, Armie might have been discussing the weather.
“You’re not dating her?”
“Nope.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “You have to the count of three, my man. One, two—”
To her surprise, Heath let her go.
As if he’d expected no less, Armie took another drink.
Yvette resisted the urge to rub her arm, unwilling to do anything that might set Armie off. Sidling closer to him, she said in a low voice, “Time for you to go, Heath.”
“I came all this way to see you. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
Armie looked at her. “You interested in talking to Slick? Or should I boot his ass to the curb?”
Damn it. Armie was spoiling for a fight, and that’d only draw the attention of everyone in the place.
“Take it easy, Armie. Please. I’d as soon avoid causing a scene if I can, okay?”
He laughed. “Now, honey, you gotta know I don’t mind a scene.”
Mouth tight, she said, “You might not, but I do.”
“So I can’t rough him up?”
Heath worked his jaw. “I’m allowed to be here. It’s a public place.”
“Not really, no,” Armie told him.
Quickly, Yvette interrupted. “If you have something to say, Heath, say it and then get out.” If Armie told him that Cannon owned the rec center, it just might become the victim of vandalism. She couldn’t bear bringing more trouble to him.
She’d done enough of that already.
Heath bristled, Armie smirked at him and she racked her brain to find a way to defuse things without having Heath misconstrue her intentions.
Suddenly an arm slipped around her and Cannon’s familiar heat enveloped her. In front of God and Heath and everyone else, he tipped up her chin and put his mouth to hers. He didn’t prolong things, but neither was it a simple peck.
Against her parted lips, he asked, “Why wasn’t I invited to this little party?”
On a silent groan, Yvette closed her eyes.
His breath touched her ear, and he said so softly only she could hear, “Have a little faith, honey.”
Then, still with one arm cuddling her, he held out his hand to Heath. “I’m Cannon.”
Eyes bright with hatred, Heath stared at him. “I know who you are.”
Cannon didn’t miss a beat. “Heath, right? How are you?”
Nonplussed, Heath looked at the proffered hand…and warily accepted it. There was no one-upmanship, no breaking grips or anything beyond a friendly greeting.
Cannon was cool personified.
“I’m fine.” Heath’s gaze went from Armie to Yvette to Cannon. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Tired actually, after my trip. I’d like to talk to Yvette before I go back to my room to rest up.”
Armie made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck. The caveman.
For only a split second, Cannon smiled at his friend. “I’ve got this, Armie. Why don’t you go finish up the demonstration for me?”
“You never let me have any fun.” Armie walked off with the same easy attitude he’d used to approach.
Anger swelling, Yvette eyed both men. Beyond wanting to avoid an ugly public confrontation, she didn’t want Cannon fighting her battles.
“So.” Staying relaxed, nonthreatening, Cannon shrugged. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Heath stiffened anew. “You don’t speak for her.”
“Wouldn’t even try,” Cannon said. “She speaks for herself, and we both know she’s been clear.”
“More than clear,” Yvette said. “Multiple times.”
Unwilling to accept that, Heath leveled his most intimidating glare on her. “You’ve gotten awfully lippy.”
Both men looked at her, Heath with anger, Cannon with support. “I’m fed up, Heath. How else can I say it? We’re done and there’s nothing else to talk about.”
“You sure you want to take that tone?” He ignored Cannon and focused only at her. “After everything?”
When Cannon tightened, she put a hand on him to let him know she could handle it. Sure, she was shaking. Mortified. Nervous. But she would not let Heath cow her. “I’ll take whatever tone is necessary for you to understand.”
Heath started to take a step closer and Cannon moved into his path. “No.”
Around him, Heath said, “I know you better than anyone else. I know you better than he ever could. You might want to remember that.”
Her lips felt stiff, her eyes burning. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Yeah, right.” His mocking gaze went to Cannon. “She tell you all about her hang-ups?”
“That’s none of your business,” Yvette said.
“Far as I can tell,” Cannon added, “she’s perfect.”
Heath went red faced with rage—a rage he aimed at Yvette. “So you’re fucking him?”
She flinched at his raised voice. If she looked, would everyone in the place be staring at them?
“Whoa.” Cannon moved her behind him. “That’s enough.”
“Fuck you, too!”
As she’d seen him do before, Heath went from zero to eighty in the blink of an eye.
“Here’s the thing,” Cannon said, still calm with a quiet authority that unnerved Heath more than a shouting match ever could. “You’re not going to talk to her alone. Not today, not ever. If you want to talk to her at all, it’ll be when you’re calm, and I’ll be there. Even then, it’s only if Yvette agrees. Right now, she doesn’t.”
“She never does!”
“With the way you’re acting, can you blame her?” He let that sink in, then added, “I know you don’t want to upset any of the other nice people who are here, many of them kids.”
As if only then remembering the public loca
le, Heath’s gaze scanned the room.
“We don’t want anyone calling the cops, right? So how about you go cool down and think about things?”
Heath bunched and unbunched, but by some miracle he held himself in check.
“Where are you staying?” Cannon asked. “Nearby? Close enough that we can get together later and talk?”
Understanding why he asked, Yvette stayed quiet.
Suspicion increased Heath’s color. “We?”
“You and me.”
He looked beyond Cannon to where Yvette stood, arms crossed, her face hot.
Cannon stepped into his line of vision. “Look at me, Heath. Not her.”
“I’m at the Colonial.”
“I know where it is,” Cannon said. “I’ve stayed there myself before when I visit town.”
“You don’t live here?”
“Not full-time.” Cannon started edging him toward the front door. “You have a card or anything? I’ll give you a call and we can arrange a time to sit down and settle this. What do you think?”
With pronounced longing, Heath looked back, trying to see her, but Cannon kept his attention with his hand on his shoulder. “Breakfast, maybe? Or lunch?”
Outmaneuvered, Heath nodded. “Sure, that’d be fine.” He dug a card from his wallet and handed it over, but then planted his feet at the door. “Understand, though, I will talk with her.” He looked back at Yvette again. “I gave you time. I tried to be understanding. You’ve dodged me long enough.”
And with that, he slammed out.
Frozen to the spot, Yvette admired how well Cannon had handled that. Unlike her, he hadn’t gotten distraught. He hadn’t gotten physical either, as Armie had wanted to do.
Maybe it was Cannon’s extreme ability that kept him from needing to react. He could handle whatever Heath did and knew it, so why get riled up about it?
When Cannon stayed at the door, making sure Heath actually drove away, she ducked around the corner and headed for the break room. With every step she felt eyes on her, everyone watching, everyone speculating.
Again.
Keeping her head up and her gaze straight ahead, she tried not to race away. Cannon deserved so much more than the trouble she brought him. He deserved more than a spectacle.
Damn it, she was working on it. No way would she let Heath ruin her progress.
