Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  Unhinged and uncontrolled.

  And maybe I was a fool, thinking I could have stopped it. Kept it away. The chaos that rose and lifted and shivered in the bright, blinding light that poured in behind him.

  But I should have known better.

  Because I was already lost.

  The room spun and the ground shook and lights flashed where I knelt before him on my knees.

  An offering.

  His.

  Kale gripped me as if he were determined to never let me go. His beautiful, glorious body stretched taut. Muscle keening, twisting, covered in a light sheen of sweat.

  “Hope, baby, oh . . . fuck . . . yes.”

  His hips surged forward, and I took him as deeply as I could. Tears pricked my eyes as he pressed all the way into my throat.

  He throbbed and jerked and poured in my mouth.

  And that spinning room canted, my axis knocked.

  I felt almost frantic as I swallowed around him.

  Because all I could see was hope spread out in front of me.

  17

  Kale

  Struggling for a breath, I stared down at her staring up at me, my hands still twisted in that perfect mass of red, lush hair.

  Affection.

  It pulled and taunted and teased. Stretched tight across my chest. The squeeze in my lungs was almost painful, already lacking breath and looking at her stealing more.

  I had no fucking clue how to make sense of what I was feeling. How to understand how this woman had singlehandedly made me question everything.

  What I wanted and where I was going and what I stood for.

  I wasn’t supposed to need anyone, my devotion all locked up on the fact my patients needed me. My fate sealed the day I’d failed.

  Yet, there she was, looking at me like I might be something better. Something more than just the Dr. tacked to the front of my name.

  Fear tumbled through my spirit.

  Because I couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow myself to fail.

  Not ever again.

  And I’d molded myself into accepting being a doctor was my only identity, but this girl was making me wonder if I might have a chance to find something more in the middle of it. Something good and right that might be meant for me.

  Or maybe fate really was a cruel bitch. Teasing me in the worst of ways. Putting this woman and her kid in front of me. Knowing I’d never make it through a repeat.

  Hope’s chest heaved as her tumultuous green eyes watched me like she wanted to crawl around inside me to discover all that I was. Though, hidden deep, flickering right on the recesses, was a spec of that shyness, that uncertainty of where to go from there.

  She dropped her gaze and gathered the top of her dress, covering herself and fumbling with the buttons because those exquisite tits were still exposed.

  All it took was a glance of her, and I was kicked in the gut with a fresh bolt of lust. Didn’t help that her panties were crumpled on my floor, the memory of getting my first real taste of Harley Hope Masterson forever ingrained on my mind.

  Strawberries and cream.

  Sweet, sweet heat.

  The girl was calm and a raging fire.

  Peace and a hurricane.

  Modest and demure with straight shot of vixen.

  Quickly, I pulled up my jeans and readjusted myself, figuring the last thing I needed was to be standing there looking like some kind of pathetic fucker caught with his pants around his ankles.

  Not when she kept stealing peeks at me. Wondering where we stood when every time we crossed paths, we just got deeper and deeper. Running faster and faster down that path she wasn’t sure she should follow me down.

  I had no answer, but I no longer knew how to stay away. Wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

  I stretched my hand out to her. “Come here.”

  With an affected smile, she accepted it, and I helped pull her to her feet. She wobbled on her heels and shaky knees.

  I tucked her against my chest, wrapped my arms around her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You just blew my mind, Harley Hope. Where exactly did you come from? Because if you disappear, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna have to hunt you down.”

  “Stalker,” she mumbled on a breathy laugh.

  My own laugh was full. Hearty. Happy.

  Because right then? That was exactly what I was.

  I wrapped her even closer, swaying her slowly in the pour of light that tumbled in through the windows behind us.

  Those dark places inside me light.

  She released a contented sigh, her breath lifting chills that sped across my chest.

  “I liked doing it,” she finally whispered like a confession right over the thunder that was my heart.

  Another chuckle rippled free, my lips murmuring against the crown of her head. “Have to admit, I liked you doing it, too.”

  She glanced up to meet my eyes. The warmth held in that mossy green swept through me like a caress. “Are you sure you aren’t just telling me that because you don’t want to make me feel bad?”

  “Uh . . . considering I’m probably going to be begging you to do it again in about ten minutes, think you can safely assume that was no platitude.” Then I glanced around my loft, eyes going wide with the tease. “See . . . no blowing of smoke anywhere.” I hugged her back to me. “You’re the only fire around here, Shortcake.”

  I could feel the force of her smile, and she gave a fake cough. “Oh, I smell smoke all right. Seems as if someone is trying to butter me up.”

  Fantasies flashed, and I grabbed her round ass in both of my hands, giving her a good squeeze. “Don’t tempt me, Hope. You have no idea just what I could do with that.”

  She choked over a surprised laugh. “I swear, you are worse than Jenna. I think maybe you should be hanging out with her, instead. She’d probably handle you a whole lot better.”

  I gathered her close, her heart beating against mine.

  Wild in its content.

  Filling me with more of that joy that spun through the center of me. Winding up and taking hold.

  “Sorry, Shortcake. That isn’t gonna work for me. Seems I’ve acquired a taste for you. Don’t want anyone else.”

  I meant for it to be playful, but it hit the air like a sonic boom. It thundered and roared through the sudden silence. Dense and deep and heavy with questions.

  Her blunted fingernails scratched across my chest, inciting a new kind of storm that was building inside me. “I don’t want anyone else, either.”

  For a few minutes, we just stayed there, lost in the other.

  Swam in the possibilities.

  Finally, I cleared my throat, stepped back.

  “I’m starving.”

  Really. We needed a distraction. Because I had none of those answers.

  But what I did know? I wanted her like I wanted the sun to keep rising in the morning. And if I didn’t put some distance between us in the next five seconds, I would have her tossed over my shoulder and laid out on my bed.

  And going there would change everything.

  For her.

  For me.

  Since I’d lost Melody, I’d spent my life living casually. Easily. But there was nothing casual about this girl, and if it went there, it was going to mean something.

  And I didn’t want to be that asshole.

  The one who took and took and took when I wasn’t sure what I could give in return.

  What I could offer.

  I mean, fuck, if I kept seeing her? I was going to have to write a report. Have Evan’s care transferred.

  But if I was being honest, that was the easy part. Not a big deal except for the fact I hated the idea of not being able to treat him. Relinquishing the kid’s care to someone else.

  Trusting his health to them.

  Unease slithered through my senses. Hooks and lines, drawing me closer to the realization of how much I fucking cared.

  Problem was, I didn’t know if I wanted to protect him because I coul
dn’t stand the thought of missing something again or if it was simply because it was this kid.

  I was getting attached to him just as swiftly as I was getting attached to his mom.

  Fuck.

  I was.

  I was falling.

  Ripping myself from her, I locked down that train of thought because none of that needed to be entertained right then. I cleared my throat and started for the kitchen. “Are you hungry? Let me feed you.”

  A moment’s hesitation brimmed around her, her gaze jumping around my loft before she gave a quick nod. “Sure. Something to eat would be nice. I’m never quite sure what to do with myself when Evan isn’t around.”

  I glanced at the spot where we’d just been tangled, letting a smirk climb to my mouth. “I’d say I approve of your most recent choice of activities. Great use of your time, Shortcake.”

  She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, like she didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or laugh. “I bet. It seems you really do have me at a disadvantage, Dr. Bryant. And here I thought I’d finally graduated to princess and ditched the whole Shortcake thing.”

  “Ah, there’s no ditching the whole Shortcake thing . . . not when you’re so damned sweet.”

  She stood there with that blush riding to her cheeks while I stepped up to the sink to wash my hands.

  She angled her head toward the hall. “Do you mind if I freshen up a little bit?”

  “First door on the right. Make yourself at home.”

  She gave a slight nod before she reached down and covertly snatched her underwear from the floor. She tucked them in a ball to conceal them in her hand, like I hadn’t been the one just peeling them from her body.

  I chuckled, shooting her a grin. “Feel free to leave those here if you want.”

  “Kale,” she admonished, flustered, as she shook her head and fought a smile before she bolted down the hall. The door slammed behind her, shaking the panes of the windows.

  And my smile?

  My smile was wider than I thought it’d ever been.

  Giggles floated through my kitchen. Wrapping around me like soft, lulling waves.

  I smiled back at her from over my shoulder where I was digging something out to make for an early dinner.

  Hope was propped up on my island, that dress bunched up around her thighs, her lush legs swinging over the edge.

  Feet bare.

  Sun shining all around her from behind. Lighting up that red hair. Setting it aflame.

  Swore, the girl was like curling up in front of a fireplace on a cold winter’s day.

  I pulled an onion, fresh garlic, and tomatoes from the crisper. Spaghetti was the one meal I cooked well, which wasn’t surprising since that shit was what I’d lived on in medical school.

  I rinsed everything, set a cutting board beside her, and started dicing so I could start the sauce.

  I glanced over at her. “If I make you dinner, that means you’re making me dessert, right?”

  “Oh, I see how this works. A favor for a favor, huh? And here I thought you were making me dinner out of the goodness of your heart.”

  She sat up there like her weight had been lifted. The girl was lost in the mood, relaxed, catching on to the vibe of the sun slowly sinking in the sky.

  My phone was synced with Spotify and set to one of my favorite playlists. Mellow and gritty, the guitar-driven beats pumped quietly from the speakers set up all through my loft, the hypnotizing lyrics setting the mood.

  I feigned an offended gasp. “This is out of the goodness of my heart, Shortcake. But, seriously, have you tasted your cupcakes? You can’t blame a man for trying. Call it self-preservation. The instinct to survive kicking in. Because I might die if I don’t get another taste.”

  “The dramatics,” she teased.

  “The truth,” I shot back.

  Amusement flitted across her features, and she placed her palms on the stone counter behind her, leaning back, hair swept over one shoulder. She stared at the ceiling like she was really contemplating what she was going to say. “And what flavor would you pick if I was kind enough to make you something? On my day off, mind you.”

  She dropped her gaze back to me, that mesmerizing green swallowing me whole.

  My brow lifted. “Do you really need to ask?”

  My eyes raked her. Head to toe. Not even attempting to hide the fact I was already ready to devour her again.

  Strawberries and cream and all things sweet.

  A soft giggle floated from her delicious mouth. “You haven’t even tried anything else. Strawberry shortcake might be your least favorite and you don’t even know it.”

  “Oh, there are some things a man just knows.” I leaned in closer to her, letting my nose graze her jaw, my voice rough. “And this I know. Don’t need to taste anything else when I already know I’ve got the fucking best thing sitting right in front of me.”

  Truth was, I’d tasted enough in my lifetime to know when I’d never stumble on anything better.

  Goose bumps spread across her flesh, and a shiver rolled down her spine as I pressed a gentle kiss behind her ear. “Got it?” I murmured.

  “Well then, I guess I’d better stock up on strawberries.” A tremor rolled out with her wispy response.

  I chuckled, swiveling around and digging out a large saucepan from the bottom cupboard and placing it on the stove. “I like the way you think. But I have to wonder if you’re thinking big enough. Not sure simply stocking up will suffice. I’m thinking maybe we need to invest in some stock in one of those fields up north. Maybe buy it outright.”

  While I spoke, I flicked on the burner, a ring of blue flames jumping to life, and tossed some olive oil in the pan. I let that heat before adding the onions and garlic.

  “You think so? Sounds to me like someone is getting a little greedy.”

  Filling a pot with hot water, I smirked over at her. “Hard not to be when I want it all.”

  There I went, running down that path, not sure how to stop myself.

  Knowing if I reached out my hand, she’d be right there running along beside me. Or maybe it was the girl who was out front, hair flying all around her as she looked back at me from over her shoulder, smile so wide and welcoming.

  Tempting me into chasing after that blinding, blistering hope. Wanting the striking, stark beauty of it. Hungry for something I’ve always wanted for the people around me, but never thinking I could keep any of it for myself.

  I focused on getting the pot on the stove instead of all the thousand thoughts and temptations dangling right there.

  Within reach.

  The whole time, knowing if I were to grab on, every single one of them might be covered in spikes and spurs and barbs.

  The onions and garlic began to sizzle. The thick aroma rose in the air.

  “God, I love that smell,” Hope murmured, her head dropped back and her eyes closed.

  Savoring.

  Lust twisted my guts.

  So tightly, I could feel it climb all the way to my chest and squeeze my heart.

  “Yeah?” I asked as I dumped a can of premade sauce into the pan, tossed in the diced tomatoes to add a little extra texture and flavor.

  “It’s my favorite.”

  “Onion and garlic?”

  She laughed that mesmerizing sound.

  Sex and innocence.

  The score of this girl hypnotic.

  “No, spaghetti. It’s my favorite.”

  A short chuckle rumbled deep in my throat. “Good. Because that’s about the only thing I know how to make.”

  She hummed softly, lost to some kind of memory. “When I was a sophomore, my grandparents took me to New York City to see one of the Broadway shows. They said they were feeding my love of the theater. I think what they really were doing was feeding my love for Italian food.”

  A gentle smile pulled at one side of my mouth as I poured the noodles in. “And how is it my little actress turned into a baker?”

  A giggle slip
ped free, hair swishing around her as she shifted. “Sometimes dreams are only meant for a moment. They mean the world to us, and then sometimes something takes their place, and they’re not quite as important to us anymore.”

  Slowly, I turned and rested my back against the counter facing her. “What happened to that dream?”

  She shook her head, her shoulders lifting in the smallest shrug. “I can’t really pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way, it stopped being a burning need inside me. I loved theater in high school. I think it was an outlet. A way to express myself. And I guess I got to a point where I no longer needed to express myself that way.”

  “So . . . how did you end up here?”

  Lines crossed. I wasn’t even jumping over the hurdles set between us. I was barreling right through them.

  The hint of a smile edged her mouth, made up of regret and honesty. “In college, I fell in love, and I followed him here.”

  I flinched.

  A stake driven through the center of me.

  God, that was stupid, but just her even mentioning the idea of that dirtbag, the thought of another man touching her, made my skin crawl.

  Unable to tolerate the distance, I slowly crossed the space, awareness thrumming between us. I took in a shuddered breath when I planted myself between her knees, staring at her through the glittering rays of lights that glowed against her gorgeous face. “Do you ever regret it? Not going to New York? Not following that dream? Chasing it even after it was gone?”

  Her head shook. Zero reluctance behind it. “No. I don’t. Because Evan is the reason I dream.”

  I set my hand against her cheek. “Hope.” It was praise from my mouth. Sure a girl as selfless and giving as this one didn’t exist. “You are amazing. The most incredible woman I’ve ever had the honor to meet.”

  Redness flushed up her delicate neck, splashing on her cheeks, and she pressed deeper into the well of my hand. Hungry for the touch. Relishing in me. “I think I could say the same thing about you.”

  My brow pinched a little, not sure how to handle a girl like this saying something like that.

  Catching it, her eyes narrowed, and she was reaching up and softly trailing her fingertips down the side of my face. “Who are you, Kale Bryant? Because you are the most incredible man I’ve ever met, but there’s something inside you that you try to keep hidden. And I wonder if that’s the part of you that I’m drawn to the most.”