HardToHandle
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“The girl, or the gig?”
Without looking at him, Stasia said, “If he actually cares about her, he should take the girl.”
“It’s his career.” Touching Stasia’s chin, Harley brought her face around to his. “He has to choose the gig—at least for now.”
Whether or not she understood him, Harley couldn’t say. But after he won the title belt, he’d have more time to devote to Stasia—and more time to explore his growing feelings for her.
Six weeks. Surely he could hold it all together for that long.
CHAPTER 18
I GNORING his feelings for Stasia proved harder than Harley had ever imagined. Three weeks had passed since she’d agreed to stick around and be his cover for the press.
He spent a lot of hours at the gym, and a few nights with promotion. Overall, he was in the best shape of his life. Stronger, faster, more fine-tuned. He was injury-free and his body felt great.
He’d just finished going five six-minute rounds with Simon, and he wasn’t winded. He could run three miles in under twenty minutes, and did so every other day without fail. He had great cardio. His body was shredded, without an ounce of fat to be found.
With the fight only a few weeks away, he had more than enough to occupy his thoughts, but still, he spent what little spare time he had wanting Anastasia.
In the middle of his preparations to take the title belt, he’d stupidly become obsessed with her. He didn’t let it interfere with his training, and he wasn’t sure if anyone else had noticed. Uncle Satch had no idea, because if he did, he’d be bitching.
For that matter, Dean and Simon would be giving him hell, too.
Did Anastasia realize, or was she as duped as everyone else?
Harley heard her voice and at the same time, he felt her presence. Damn. It didn’t help his situation that she now felt free to frequent the gym. On any given day she showed up with a notepad and pen, jotting down observations, studying equipment, watching old tapes.
Harley knew she wanted to learn as much about the sport as she could, so he didn’t discourage her. And as long as he kept her close at hand, he knew nothing could happen to her.
Although there’d been no more incidents, the police had been unable to confirm her ex-client’s whereabouts. Far as they were concerned, Larry Grimes could be on vacation, so his lack of appearance didn’t implicate him in any way. Without some evidence to go on, they weren’t willing to pursue him. They took a report and told Harley and Stasia to contact them if anything else happened, but that was the extent of their investigation.
Stasia’s laugh reached him, and Harley turned to look at her. As he’d requested, she’d toned down the sex appeal by wearing trim jeans with bulky sweaters and oversize sweatshirts.
It didn’t help.
In fact, the casual clothing only made him more curious to see her naked, to touch her body all over. He remembered the feel of her that night at the station, how her legs and hips had looked in that body-hugging skirt, and it was enough to make his heart race.
“Shit.” Standing at the back of Dean’s gym, covered in sweat, Harley stared toward the far corner where Dakota explained training techniques to Stasia and Jasmine. He was done for the day, but instead of daydreaming about Stasia’s body, he should be concentrating on his upcoming fight.
“Yeah,” Simon said. “Sorry about that.” As one of Harley’s sparring partners, Simon was equally sweaty. He lifted a water bottle, tipped his head back, and let a stream of water pour into his mouth.
He passed the bottle to Harley.
“For what?” Harley took a drink, then capped the bottle and tossed it toward Barber.
One leg bent and his back against the wall, Barber caught it. “Thanks.”
Simon nodded toward the women. “Dakota is so at home here now, she sees no reason not to march other women through.” He swiped a forearm over his face. “If it bothers you—”
“It’s fine.” Harley picked up a towel. Far as he was concerned, the damned fight couldn’t come soon enough. Once he annihilated Kinkaid, he planned to get Anastasia in his bed—whatever it took to convince her.
“What I’d like to know,” Barber said, “is why the hell Jasmine is tagging along. She’s not even interested in fighting.”
“She’s interested in you,” Harley pointed out.
“And she doesn’t have that many friends in town yet.” Simon grinned. “Unless you want her to hang out with the rest of the band?”
“No.” Barber pushed to his feet. “I already told those bozos what’d happen if they even look at her funny.”
Dean came up with a chart in his hand. He took one look at Barber and Harley and he shook his head. “They’re pathetic, aren’t they?”
Simon just grinned.
“It’s bullshit,” Barber complained as he threw the towel to the floor and glared at the women. “Here we are doing without and being miserable because of it, and they go about their day, smiling and chatting as if they don’t miss sex at all.”
“Speak for yourself,” Simon said. “We married men go to bed happy.”
“Every night,” Dean added.
“So that’s why your mood is so mellow.” Harley grinned. “I did wonder.”
“Damn straight. Married life is sweet.”
“It has its rewards,” Simon agreed.
Harley gave Barber a shove. “Maybe Jasmine doesn’t know what she’s missing yet. You should try telling her.”
“Already have,” Barber said. “But she’s stubborn.”
“Or smart,” Dean said.
“Or maybe she just has high standards,” Simon added.
Trying not to laugh, Harley said, “You know, it could be Barber’s idiotic rule about not sleeping with band members.” He looked toward Jasmine and saw her watching Barber. “She’s hooked, man. All you have to do is reel her in.”
Barber gave him an evil look. “I’m done.” He headed for the showers.
Simon watched him go. “I do believe he’s lovesick.” Then he grinned. “I like it.”
When he finished laughing, Dean asked Harley, “How’s the elbow?”
“Perfect. No problems. I feel great all over.”
“Here on out, I only want you to go seventy, maybe eighty percent. We’ll concentrate on situational drills. Light sparring, specific kicks. Your takedown defense is good, but we’ll continue with that. I have some new guys coming in to work with you. We’ll mix it up a lot.”
“Sounds good.” Harley watched some of the other fighters as they watched Stasia. Surprisingly, it didn’t bother him much because he knew she wasn’t the type to play off them. Stasia wouldn’t lead them on, was never more than polite to them, and most times, she barely noticed their efforts to get her attention.
Uncle Satch came in the front door and made a beeline to the back of the gym. He went around the full-size ring, the cage, and past a lot of fighters in various acts of exercise and practice.
He paid no attention to the women.
Before he’d quite reached Harley, he called out, “You have another interview. Tonight. I set it up at Roger’s for nine o’clock.”
Dean slapped Harley’s shoulder in commiseration and walked away. They all knew how badly he hated the press stuff, and for a few weeks it had lightened up. But Satch pushed hard, more so than other managers.
Simon stayed beside him and listened as Satch reached them and gave the details.
“Kinkaid says he challenged you and you hid behind Simon.”
“So?”
Bristling on his behalf, Satch said, “You have to give the right details, set that bastard straight.”
“I already did. There was a reporter there that night. He caught it all.”
“You should have told me! I need to do damage control.”
“I don’t know,” Simon said. “Kinkaid is a loose cannon. The more crap he talks, the dumber he’s going to look when he gets beat. There’s no reason for Harley to get into a bunch of back-and-forth bullshi
t.”
Conceding to Simon’s experience, Satch said, “Maybe. But if an interviewer asks him, he has to explain.”
Harley felt Stasia looking at him. He glanced her way, and saw her concern. Over Satch? Or had something happened? To his uncle, he said, “I’ll handle it, Uncle Satch, but no more interviews. I’ve had enough.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
When he stepped around him to go to Stasia, Satch bristled. “Wait a damn minute.”
“We can talk at home.” Harley lifted a hand in farewell and went to Stasia.
She greeted him with a small smile. “Hey there. You done for the day?”
“I still need to shower—obviously.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I never quite understood the appeal of sweat.”
Harley shrugged. “It comes with the sport.” He smoothed a hand over her glossy dark hair. “You look worried about something. Is everything okay?”
“It’s nothing.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She rolled her lips in, considered it, and shook her head. “You don’t want to hear it and I don’t want to pester you.”
He let out an exasperated breath. “I’ve been working my ass off for hours. I’m ready to call it a day, but you’re over here scowling and now you don’t want to say why?” He shook his head. “Why can’t women ever give a straight answer?”
“You want it straight? Fine. I don’t like the way you let your uncle coerce you into things you don’t want to do.”
Harley hadn’t expected that. “You’re fretting about Uncle Satch?” From his perspective, Satch was just a fact of life, a relative he loved, and one he had to deal with. “Why?”
“You’re a smart man, Harley. You have great instincts, and you know how to manage your own career. Yet you constantly let your uncle badger you into stuff. Talk about a distraction. That can’t be helpful to you.”
“He’s my uncle, Stasia. Family. The only family I have left.” Far as Harley was concerned, that said it all.
“I’m not suggesting you boot him out of your life. Just reclaim the reins, that’s all. Set some boundaries for him. Much as you love him, he loves you, so I know he’d understand.”
Done with the ridiculous topic, Harley said, “I’ll think about it.”
“I hope you do.”
“What do you have planned? I can be done showering in ten minutes. Want to grab something to eat?”
“I could eat.”
“Why is that always your answer?”
“Because I’m always hungry?” She grinned. “Where would you like to go?”
“Roger’s is fine. I have an interview there later anyway.”
“I’ll need to change. You can pick me up on your way to the bar if you want. I’ll be ready.”
Harley looked out the door. “It’s dark already. Be careful, okay?”
“Jasmine is riding with me. We’ll be fine.”
Harley hesitated. They’d kept things pretty platonic since her final decision weeks ago. But now…He bent and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “See you in a bit.”
Stasia stood there, unmoving, even as Harley turned away. Damn, but they both were bad off. If only she’d admit it…not that it’d be wise for him to get sexually involved right now. Hell, he didn’t have that long before the fight. He’d be better to save it…
Harley laughed at himself. If she said yes right now, he’d be all over her, and they both knew it.
It bugged him that she called all the shots. A lot. Maybe, just for the hell of it, he’d work on her a little.
STASIA watched Harley walk away, knowing he had no idea how he affected her with his nearness. Even hot from his workout, his blond hair slicked back, his chest hair dark with sweat, he had the most incredible body she’d ever seen on a man. In his low shorts and nothing more, he was devastatingly sexy.
Jasmine nudged her. “Seeing these guys mostly naked, all hot and sweaty, is downright torturous, isn’t it?”
She glanced at her new friend and laughed. “Barber getting to you?”
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll last. Did you see him sparring? He’s good. Even Dakota said so.” She frowned. “Do you think he’s still in love with her?”
“No.” Stasia didn’t have to think about it. She’d heard all the rumors, and for weeks now she’d watched Barber and Dakota together. Simon didn’t seem worried, and that said a lot. Dakota treated Barber like a best friend, and he reacted to her as he would a little sister. He was protective and sweet, and affectionate. Nothing more.
But with Jasmine…“He’s got his eye set on you, and you know it.”
Jasmine nodded. “He wants to sleep with me. He’s said so.” She sighed. “Multiple times.”
“Sounds like Barber. He’s pretty up front about stuff.”
Jasmine flattened her expression. “If it was just up to me, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. I’m not crazy or a masochist.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I love singing.” Jasmine looked at Stasia with pangs of regret. “And if we get intimate, I can’t be in the band.”
“Barber actually said that?” Stasia shook her head. Harley had hinted at Barber’s boundaries, but Stasia couldn’t believe he’d actually abide by such a lame rule, especially when everyone was aware of the chemistry between them.
“I don’t know what to do, Stasia. I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.”
“Well, I don’t buy it.”
Filled with hope, Jasmine stared at her wide-eyed. “You don’t?”
“No.” She wasn’t sure if she should get involved or not, but seeing Jasmine’s desperation, Stasia couldn’t hold herself back. “Let me ask you this. Do you think Barber cares for you, or just wants you?”
“Hard to say.” Jasmine stepped back to lean on the wall and stared unseeing at the fighters currently sparring. “He’s nice. Courteous. But I’ve known guys who’d do that just to get in my graces.”
“Men are men.” Stasia laughed. “But…have you seen him with any other woman recently?”
After she thought about it, Jasmine brightened. “No.” She straightened from the wall. “In fact, he told me he wasn’t cut out for celibacy and that I should take pity on him.”
Huh. “If he just wanted sex, he could have sex. Right?”
Nodding, Jasmine said, “Groupies are always hanging around, coming on to him. He flirts, but I haven’t seen him actually show interest in any of them.”
“Not since you came along.”
She grinned.
“Maybe Barber would find out that he wants you in bed and in the band.”
“You really think so?”
“What I think doesn’t matter so much. It’s what you think. Is it worth the risk to you? What if you sleep with him and he fires you from the band?” When Jasmine winced, Stasia hurried to say, “I can’t imagine him doing that. In the three weeks you’ve been performing with him, everyone has raved. You two are incredible together. Barber’s a good businessman, so he’s surely recognized that.”
Suddenly Jasmine’s shoulders went back. “You’re right. This is ridiculous. I’m tired of sleepless nights and feeling tense all the time.”
“Think it through, though, Jasmine. There’s always the possibility that things won’t work out between the two of you. Barber’s been a bachelor for a long time, and he’s set in his ways. He’s outrageous and used to doing what he wants, when he wants. If you two fall apart, it would be awkward to perform together. You might not even want to be in the band.”
“You’re right.” She scrunched up her brows and paced a short distance away, then came right back. “I’m going to talk to Barber, feel him out about it.”
From behind them, Barber said, “I’m all for you feeling me out, or feeling me up, but about what in particular?”
Both women froze. Stasia cleared her throat. “Dang, Barber. For a big guy, you’re awfully sneaky.�
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He blinked at Stasia, then turned his attention to Jasmine. “Or maybe it’s just that you two babes were so busy plotting no good that you didn’t notice a two-hundred-pound man approaching.”
“That’s possible,” Jasmine said.
Barber’s gaze went all over her. “God above, girl, I do love the way you pull an outfit together.”
Stasia smiled. Today Jasmine wore tight black boot-cut jeans and a white thermal shirt with red and black trim. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail at the very top of her head so it hung down around her face like a fountain. Exaggerated makeup gave her an edgy rocker look that Barber all but drooled over.
Deciding to leave the lovebirds alone, Stasia told Jasmine, “I’ll wait up front.”
She was standing by the door, watching the street lights come on as night fell, when Uncle Satch caught up to her.
“Got a minute, Anastasia?”
She greeted him with a hug. “How are you, Satch?”
“Well, now, that’s the thing.” He rubbed his chin. “I’d be doing better if you’d be doing your job.”
“My job?”
“Harley dodges more press than he accepts.”
Her mouth fell open. Irritation set in. “How can you say that? You have him running from one interview to another. For weeks now he’s spent over half his waking day preparing for the fight, and then hours more appeasing your idea of good press.”
Her verbal attack had Satch backing up a step. “Bring it down already, will you?”
Stasia looked around and noticed that a few people glanced their way. Her and her big mouth. “Sorry. But you’re pushing him too hard,” she said lower, determined to make her point. “Harley is a big boy who can make his own decisions, good decisions, if you’d just give him a chance.”
Satch bunched up on her. “I thought we were on the same side.”
“I’m on Harley’s side,” she assured him. “I’ve been studying the sport, and Dakota agrees, he doesn’t need to seek out promotion. The promoters that come to him would be more than enough.”
“Women.” Satch threw up his hands. “You know how long I’ve been involved in the SBC? Since Harley first started, which is a lot longer than Ms. Dakota and you combined. You honestly think I don’t know what’s best for him?”