by Lane Hart
“Hell yes,” the blond says. “I’m Linc Abrams, and this is Jude Malone. We own this place. So if anyone causes him a problem, just let us know; and we’ll take care of it.”
“Great. Thank you, Linc and Jude,” I tell them before I escape out the door.
I walk back to my car in a daze before driving to the Y to pick up Grayson. Maybe he won't be interested. Then I can just have the date, get the info I need from Nate and be done with him. Easy.
"So how was school?" I ask Grayson after I go in to get him, and we buckle up in the car. He shrugs his shoulders. "Did you have a good day?" I prod for a verbal response.
"It was mediocre," he answers.
Cranking the car, I ask myself if I’m really gonna allow my little guy to get hit by his peers? Or worse, what if he becomes a bully? No, I just don't see that ever happening. He's much more likely to get hurt. I could go and watch and yank him out if there's anything that doesn't look safe.
"So, Grayson, I was thinking, and if you still want to take those classes, the mixed martial arts ones with Nathan, I mean the guys from the Y, then I'll let you try them for a month at their gym."
"You will!?!" he exclaims from the backseat. I glance up at him in the rearview mirror while I'm sitting still at a stoplight. His chocolate eyes are bright with excitement and there's a broad smile on his face. I had no idea something so insane would mean so much to him. Guess I better find a dress to wear tomorrow. Well, I don't have to wear a dress. I don't need to bother trying to look nice. This is not a date. It's just...going out socially with a man to get what I want from him. My lower belly warms and tightens as my thoughts go in an entirely inappropriate direction at the phrasing that could refer to something else I "want from him."
"Yes," I respond to Grayson. "If you're sure you would like to do this and if you understand the risks of getting hurt. But if you get in trouble at school for anything they teach you, it's over. Deal?"
"Deal!" he assures me. "Can we please call Grandma and Grandpa tonight so that I can inform them? How about Patrick? Do you think he'll say that my father would have approved?"
The pit in my stomach grows a little bigger, aches a little more because my son still yearns for his dead father to be proud of him. And if he can’t have Austin’s approval, he wants Patrick’s support since he was Austin’s best friend. "Grayson, we've talked about this. You don't have to do anything just because your father would have wanted you to. Don't worry about that, okay?"
"I still want to do it. Just for me."
I blink away the moisture in my eyes before he notices. Way too perceptive for his age, Grayson, unfortunately, notices everything.
Chapter Five
Nate
Is she gonna show or not?
That question has been driving me crazy since Alyssa left yesterday afternoon. Now it's ten minutes to seven, and I think there's a fifty-fifty chance she’ll stand me up.
I glance down at my blue button down and jeans wondering if I'm overdressed or underdressed. Hell, I just want to get undressed. With Alyssa.
I'm a bastard for thinking such a thing. She's a widow with a kid. What kind of jerk would I be if I made a move on her? A really horny one who hasn’t touched a woman in…years. Four to be exact. Four very long, painfully lonely years.
At twenty-two, I've voluntarily become a goddamn monk. Some women actually have a thing for gingers. So when I used to go out with Senn and Mace, I would usually have a few interested in more than dancing, asking me to go home with them. But fucking one club or cage cunt is like fucking them all. No variations from the slutty, trashy and dollar chasing women. Of course, I did my fair share of dating in high school and my freshman year of college. But then things changed. My life was turned upside down in ways I never expected…
The quick rapping of knuckles on my open office door instantly has my head snapping up.
Son of a bitch.
She came.
Not only is Alyssa here, but she’s dressed up in this short, little red number like she wanted to look nice for me. That shouldn't make me or my cock as happy as it does. Although, I'm pretty sure she would look gorgeous and have the same effect on me in anything, even my granny's leopard print muumuu.
"Um, hey," she finally says softly, clutching her matching purse to her stomach when I just continue to stare silently at her.
"Hey, beautiful," I reply and watch as she blushes right before my eyes like a shy teenager. "So I take it the tiny professor agreed to take classes?"
"Tiny…tiny professor?" she asks, and her timidity quickly fades to wrathfulness in an instant. Her turquoise eyes practically glow with anger. "I'm not gonna let him come here just so you can make fun of him!"
"Whoa!" I exclaim in surprise, throwing up my hands at her accusation. "Hold your claws back just a second, kitten. Nobody's gonna make fun of him. I didn't mean it as an insult. He seems really smart like a little Einstein is all I was saying. Damn, woman."
"This was a bad idea," she says with a shake of her long hair before she spins around on her red heels and disappears.
Goddamn it.
I shoot out of my chair half a second later and jog through the gym to catch up with her. When I'm right behind her, I reach for her elbow to slow her down. She stops but doesn't turn around, so I step in front of her. That's when I see the tears glistening on her cheek before she brushes them off with her knuckle.
Ah, fuck. Making a woman cry is worse than stepping in dog shit. There’s no easy way to clean it up. Instead, I usually end up making it worse, spreading the mess around…
"Please don't cry. Or leave," I say quietly so none of the guys around the gym hear us. "Alyssa, just give me a chance to show you something. Let me prove to you that I wasn't trying to be offensive, and then, if you want, I'll bring you right back to your car, okay?"
I wait patiently for her response. Will she tell me to go fuck myself or agree?
Finally, she gives a quick nod of her head, and I release the breath I didn't know I had even been holding.
Not wasting any time in case she changes her mind, I reach down and grab her hand to take her through the parking lot, opening my passenger door for her. She pauses before she steps up on the high running board, and I'm afraid she's about to bolt. But then she actually looks at me and smiles this unexpected perfect, Miss America smile. She's so damn beautiful that I just want to pull her against me and kiss her silly.
"Nice color," she remarks on my electric blue truck. "What did you do? Color it with a neon blue highlighter from the ‘90s?"
It takes me longer than normal to realize she's teasing me. It's a step in the right direction. Much better than crying.
"Turn out the lights, and I glow," I joke, quoting the one-hit wonder, and she actually laughs. It's the sweetest sound I've ever heard, making her seem years younger and not at all like an uptight mother.
Alyssa stays quiet after we pull out of the lot and while I drive us down the highway.
"So, um, is your son with a babysitter tonight?" I ask, hoping she won't flip out at my question. At least she can't leave unless she jumps out of the high-speed vehicle. I'm pretty sure she won't do that, but I reach over and hit the button to lock the doors just in case.
"Yes. His name is Grayson, and he's spending the night with his grandparents."
"Does that mean that at this moment he's getting to do anything he wants?" I ask and sneak a quick glance at her. Her face is turned away, looking out the window.
"I'm sure they're trying to get him to loosen up and act like a kid, but he's more serious and cautious than I am."
"Really smart?" I ask.
"Yeah. He's skipped two grades, but...I worry that he's not happy with the older kids. Maybe I should've left him in second grade."
"It sounds like being a single parent is tough."
"You have no idea," she replies.
"I'm sorry about your husband," I say since it feels like an enormous elephant in the cab with us. "Grayson
said he died while serving our country."
"Yeah, a year and a half ago. Where are we going?" she asks, obviously trying to change the subject.
"We're here," I say as I pull into the driveway next to the two-story brick house.
"What? You brought me to your house?" she exclaims incredulously.
"No, this isn’t my house," I respond quickly. "Well, not anymore. Come on, we need to be quiet so we can get in and out without them noticing."
I go around to open the door for Alyssa. She hesitates, refusing to take my offered hand.
"Whose house is this?" she asks with a cute crinkle between her eyebrows.
"My parents."
"Your parents?"
"Uh-huh. We'll be in and out in no time, I promise."
She looks at me a few seconds longer before finally taking my hand and stepping down from the truck. I try to be a gentleman and not ogle her thighs when her skirt rises, and epically fail. Not only do I gawk, but my hands are itching to reach out and touch the soft looking skin. This is what I get for being celibate for way too long.
I push the naughty thoughts aside and take Alyssa to the back door, which is unlocked just as I expected. Quietly closing it behind us, I lead the way up the steps in the kitchen to the loft. The sounds of guns firing and shit blowing up can be heard all the way from the living room, and the smell of buttery popcorn fills the air. I smile because some things never change, like my parents’ choice of movies. After working all week, my mom, who is an English teacher, and my dad, who is a boring accountant, spend Saturdays and Sundays watching new releases or old favorites. My mom only stops to cook meals, and my dad pauses the movies for her.
Upstairs I grab one of the big, family photo albums from underneath the coffee table and sit down on the plaid sofa, gesturing for Alyssa to take the cushion to the left of me.
…
Alyssa
I don't know what to think. Tonight hasn't turned out as expected, that's for sure. First off, I never planned on crying. And I sure as heck never thought we'd end up at Nathan's parents' house. I just need to find out his birthday and then try to get him to agree to tell me what happened last week. Should be easy.
Sitting next to him, I inhale a deep breath to soak up more of his unique scent. It's a combination of the ocean and fresh cedar. He smells nice and…familiar.
After flipping through several oversized pages in the book on his lap, he finally comes to a stop. Looking down, I see a school photo of a little boy with strawberry blond hair and freckles.
"Is that you?" I ask to be sure.
Nathan was small, almost with a malnourished appearance. His hair was kept short but not as short as he has it now, so it was long enough to have cowlicks. Those same grassy green eyes are obstructed by glasses, thick ones. He looks so much like Grayson it's shocking.
"You wear contacts?" I ask, meeting his beautiful eyes.
"I did until I had Lasik surgery when I was eighteen. Made wrestling and fighting easier." Those eyes of his seem so open and honest. Gentle. It's hard to imagine him hurting other men.
"You were small."
He chuckles. "I was practically emaciated, even though I ate all the time."
Turning a few pages, he goes through the years as he gets older. "In the ninth grade, I was probably the smallest kid in my high school. It didn't help that I was also taking senior level classes. Believe it or not, I have a nearly photographic memory, so I'm not smart, I just remember everything I see or read. Not perfectly, but enough that I could go through a textbook in a few days and recall most of the content."
"Wow," is all I can say in response. "So how did you end up like...this," I ask, gesturing to the muscular man that he is today.
"Hard work and dedication. At thirteen I started taking karate classes. When I was fifteen, I got into wrestling at school. I began lifting weights and changing the way I was eating. Even still, my first cage fight I was in the flyweight class, just a hundred and twenty pounds."
"When did you hit your growth spurt?" I ask with a smile.
"At seventeen. I was a late bloomer, suddenly shooting up half a head taller. After that, bulking up became easier. I still have to eat a shitload to keep my weight up. Guess I shouldn't complain about that."
He definitely bulked up all right. His body may be lean but it’s…amazing. The button-down shirt doesn't hide his massive biceps, wide shoulders and trim waist. And his relaxed fit jeans still show off his long muscular thighs and...package in a sexy way that I've never noticed on any other man, even Austin.
What is wrong with me? I shouldn't be thinking about another man. Not like...that.
"So the reason I brought you over here is that I just wanted you to see that size doesn't matter in this type of sport," Nate explains. "Younger kids don't get in the cage, but those of us who do or did aren't fighting other men. We're fighting ourselves and pushing ourselves to be better. Because if you lose in there, you don't have anyone to blame but yourself."
"You really think he'll be okay?" I ask, meeting his intense eyes to judge his sincerity.
"He'll be okay, Alyssa," he assures me with a smile. "If there are any problems with the other kids, let me, Jude, or Linc know, and we'll take care of it. We don't tolerate bullies in our gym or in the schools. If a kid gets suspended for starting a fight or taunting other students, they know they're gone. That's not what we're about."
"Good," I say on an exhale. "Can I stay and watch?"
"Absolutely."
"Thank you," I tell him sincerely. "For showing me this." I nod to the book still open in his lap.
"I didn't think you'd believe me if I just told you."
"Probably not," I agree.
Closing the book and placing it on the empty side of the couch, Nathan angles his body towards me; and suddenly I feel exposed with the album gone, nothing between us.
"So, I don't know about you, but I'm starving," he says. And when his eyes lower to my lips, I'm almost certain he's not just talking about food. That somewhat familiar ache in my lower belly flares to life again as I think about the other type of hunger. The one that's been dormant for so long I'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
When I was in high school, I thought it was nerves caused by being alone with a man for the first time. Now I know it was anticipation. The excitement of what's to come, that closeness and incredible intimacy.
It's been years since I've been aroused by a man. But the one sitting only inches away from me is too scrumptious to ignore. He has a silent sort of confidence that makes me think he's the type of guy who would definitely be in control in the bedroom, knowing exactly what to do to a woman with every single inch of his incredible body. Especially the ones between his legs.
Oh my God, how embarrassing. My panties are actually damp. I jump off the couch to put space between us before I make a fool of myself.
"Let's go find something to eat," I say, and it comes out shaky like I've been climbing a Stairmaster.
"You know what you want?" Nathan asks when he gets to his feet in a swift, graceful move. And if I knew him better, I might say his question was an intentional double entendre.
"Whatever you want is fine," I say.
He chuckles, rubbing his palm over the hint of reddish-gold scruff on his jaw. "You sure about that?"
My face ignites, now certain that there's an underlying meaning to the usually innocent words.
"Nathan, honey! I just saw your truck in the drive. Why didn't you come say hello?" A woman, who I assume is Nathan's mother, approaches from the stairwell.
"Hey, Mom," Nathan says in greeting before going over to hug her.
"Oh," she mutters, her eyes widening in surprise when she spots me over his shoulder. "I didn't know you had a…a date with you."
"This is Alyssa. We’re just talking about her son taking classes at Havoc," he says in explanation. I try not to let the fact that he was so quick to deny we were on a date bother me. This is just business, not that he
knows that. I shouldn't want it to be...more with him. I'm recently widowed with a son. It wouldn't be fair to Grayson for me to let men into his life and then have them disappear. Besides, I especially can’t consider dating a lead for a story.
"Hi, it's nice to meet you, Mrs. Lewis," I say, shoving those thoughts aside and offering her my palm. The slender, middle-aged lady with long, red hair and glasses smiles before pulling me in for a hug. Overcoming my surprise, I return it.
“How did you know my last name?” Nathan interrupts.
Shit. I think back to our two prior conversations, hoping he told me his last name one of those times. Yes, I think he did the first day at the Y.
"So glad to meet you, Alyssa," his mom ignores him and tells me when she pulls away. "What are you kids up to? Should I cook something for dinner?"
"No, Mom. Just dropped by to show her something real quick. I know better than to interrupt you and dad’s movie," Nathan says with a grin, clearly teasing her.
His mother scoffs. "I would’ve had something ready if you'd let me know ahead of time."
"Don't worry. We were planning to eat out anyway. Alyssa said we could go anywhere I want."
"Oh, honey. The girl is all dressed up. Don't take her there!"
"Too late," he says. "I've made up my mind. And we better go before she lures you into MAMMA, her Mothers Against MMA club," Nathan tells me.
"Seriously?" I ask in shock. Here he is trying to talk me into letting my son take classes and his mother disapproves?
"I hate that God-awful sport, but I love my son," she tells me. "Dan and I are so proud of him and his success in wrestling, no doubt about that. But we can't help but worry about all those boys in that stupid cage they insist on getting in…”
"Yeah, yeah. Human cockfighting. Blah, blah. I'm starving, so we're gonna go," Nathan says, grabbing my elbow to guide me down the steps in front of him.
"Nice to meet you," I say as we descend and his mom disappears from sight.
"You too, sweetie. Hope to see you again!" she yells back before we're out the back door and climbing into the truck.
