Sweet Victory (Fighting for Love)

by Gina L. Maxwell

  “If I had to guess, my dear boy, you and your father aren’t close, am I right?”

  Xander felt Sophie’s eyes burning into the side of his face, but he didn’t take his off her grandmother. “Yes, Madame, you are correct.”

  Her gaze softened, then she spoke matter-of-factly. “It’s because you’re too much like your mother.”

  Marjorie couldn’t have shocked him more. “What? I mean,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to gather his wits about him. “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s a common reason for parents to be at odds with their children. You see, as parents, our greatest pleasure is seeing our children inherit our characteristics and take interest in our interests. We’re inherently narcissistic that way. Some of us learn to let those feeling go and encourage our children to be individuals, whatever that may mean. And some of us can only focus on trying to make the children be younger versions of ourselves.”

  “Yeah, well, my father falls into that latter category for sure. He succeeded with my older brother, but he could never quite make me conform to the James mold like he expected.”

  “My sons are like that,” Marjorie said, causing Xander and Sophie both to snap up a little straighter in their chairs. “Of course, they’re only five and seven years old, but I can already see the vast difference between them. My older son, Jerry, is much like me. More of a carefree spirit, doesn’t often get upset over things.” Marjorie smiled with all the love in her heart. “He smiles easily and often, and he’s very protective of his little brother.”

  The older woman braced her hands on the arms of her chair and adjusted her position slightly, as though she’d started getting stiff. “Now, Richard, on the other hand. He’s my baby and very much like his father and his father before him. And I say that because the old man—John’s father—was always a bit of a hothead and good at manipulating others around him to get his way. His wife was a meek little mouse who never said boo about anything. And John is a lot like his father in many ways.” Leaning forward, she held a finger up and pointed at herself. “But I’m no mouse, and he learned fast that I don’t put up with that baloney. He still has a short fuse, that’s just how he is, but he learned to temper it somewhat around me and especially now with the boys. Anyway, I think Richard is a lot like the old man, so I plan to keep an eye on him. Teach him to be more like a duck.”

  Xander figured he missed something in translation. “A duck?”

  Sophie’s voice came out raspy and soft. “Teach him how to let things roll of his back. Like water on a duck.”

  Marjorie’s eyes lit up as she looked at Sophie. “Exactly,” she said. “Does your mother use that expression, too?”

  Sophie shook her head, tears once again drowning her chocolate eyes. “No, my grandmother does.”

  “Your grandmother must be a wise and great lady,” Marjorie said with an indulgent wink before settling back into the soft cushion of her chair, tipping her head back, and letting her eyes drift shut on a sigh.

  “The greatest,” Sophie whispered. She studied her grandmother as she rocked back and forth the slightest bit, obviously taxed from their long visit.

  He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, watching as Marjorie rocked herself into a peaceful nap, but eventually a right plump woman in nursing scrubs appeared and touched Sophie on the shoulder.

  “It’s time for her medicine, Sophie, and she needs to go back to her room. I’m just waiting for Danny to be finished with Mr. Griffin.”

  Xander watched Sophie tuck her emotions away and turn all business as she stood. “Yes, of course, Pat. I’m sorry I let her fall asleep out here. I should have walked her back when I saw her getting tired.”

  The nurse gathered one of Sophie’s hands in hers and patted the top with motherly affection. “Oh, don’t worry about it. Danny can carry her easily enough.” Pat glanced around the room with a puzzled look. “Whenever he gets here, that is.”

  “I’d be more than happy to help, Pat. I can carry Marjorie for you,” he said.

  “Oh, aren’t you sweet,” she said, “but unfortunately that isn’t allowed. Liability reasons, you understand.”

  At that moment, Marjorie chose to slowly pitch forward in her sleep. Xander reached out and gently pushed her back into the chair before she tumbled to the floor.

  “Pat, it’s okay,” Sophie said. “Xander’s more than able to carry her, and since I’m giving him permission, you aren’t liable.”

  Pat wrung her hands together for a few seconds then waved her worries away. “Okay, I suppose it’ll be fine this once.”

  Xander gingerly scooped her up. She felt no heavier than a child and he easily carried her through the halls behind Pat until they at last reached the room. Once Marjorie was tucked in, Pat said she had to go get her medicines and left them to say their good-byes.

  He grasped her hand lightly. Though she wasn’t someone with whom Xander had a lifetime of experiences and bonding, in only the few short hours he’d spent with Marjorie, he’d come to feel a strong fondness for her. Opening her sleepy eyes, Marjorie spoke in a voice so soft, the only reason he could hear her was the utter silence surrounding them. “Look at her,” she said with a slight nod in Sophie’s direction on the other side of the room.

  Xander lifted his gaze to Sophie and immediately felt a tingling of goose flesh follow in the wake of fire licking at his nerves. It wasn’t a painful burning or even the sexual kind. This felt like coming in from a winter storm and stripping down to get warm by the roaring fire. It was comforting, reassuring… It was home.

  The realization hit him square in the chest and his breath almost left his body from the force, regardless that it wasn’t a physical blow.

  “You do love her,” Marjorie whispered on an exhale, settling more into her pillow. “That’s very good.”

  Xander could only stare at the woman who’d just turned his world upside down with four little words. Did he love Sophie?

  “You can always tell how a man truly feels by the way he looks at his girl,” she said to him. “She deserves the kind of soul-deep love that shines through a man’s eyes.”

  He lifted his gaze to Sophie again and swallowed past the lump in his throat. His heart kicked up a quickening beat against his rib cage. “Sure she does, Marjorie.”

  “I’m glad she has that with you. That’s good.”

  Lifting her frail hand, he brushed a reverent kiss on it before securing it over the covers at her side. Xan hated that they weren’t being completely honest with her, but he hoped on some level he was reassuring Marjorie that he’d take care of her granddaughter for as long as it was his privilege to do so.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you, Marjorie. Get some rest, my dear, and I’ll see you soon.” He rounded the bed and paused next to Sophie, whispering, “I’ll be right outside.” She nodded and he left to stand in the hallway, a few feet from the door to give her some alone time with her grandmother. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must be to have the person you love most in the world not remember anything about you or the relationship you once shared with them. He’d be devastated if his mum ever forgot him.

  Xan heard the fast clicking of Sophie’s heels a full two seconds before she emerged from the room. “Soph?” But she didn’t answer him, didn’t even glance in his direction as she passed him at a clipped pace.

  “Whoa, there,” he said, gently grabbing her by the arm to turn her around. The tears he knew she’d been trying to hold back began to fall as soon as she raised her eyes to his, and it gutted him. Keeping hold of her arm, he lifted his other hand to the side of her neck and wiped away what he could with his thumb. “What’s the matter?”

  She shook her head and clamped down on her lower lip so hard that he was concerned she’d break the skin. She was trying to hold everything in. His brave, strong Sophie. Always so worried to show any signs of weakness. He hurt for her; for what she must have gone through to make her believe that showing people her emotions was a su
re bet to getting hurt.

  Xander dipped his head and placed a tender kiss on her forehead, then whispered, “It’s okay. You can tell me. What happened after I left the room?”

  She took so long to answer, he thought it was a lost cause. But at last she let him in. “I told her I’d see her soon, like I always do. She nodded and her eyes drifted closed. I stood there for a few minutes, just holding her hand and watching her sleep. Or at least, I thought she was sleeping.”

  Oh dear God, no. He hoped like hell Sophie wasn’t going to say what it sounded like. Clenching his jaw until pain shot through his head, he waited for her to reveal the rest.

  “I bent down and kissed her cheek,” she continued, “and told her I loved her, and she…” A fresh wall of tears streamed through her lower lashes and her chin trembled in spite of the control she’d held herself together with. Sophie gulped around the lump of emotions he knew had lodged in her throat. “She whispered, ‘Love you, too, sugarplum.’”

  Xander held his breath and tried to ignore the roar of blood in his ears so he wouldn’t miss it if she said anything else. Although, what she had said was huge in and of itself. According to Sophie, her grandmother hadn’t called her by her childhood nickname in years. Though he didn’t know what it meant in a medical sense that she did so now, he knew that for Sophie it was a miraculous sign that the woman she loved was still in there and remembered her on some level.

  When it appeared as though no bad news was to follow, he gathered her in his arms and let her weep into his shirt. He suspected the tears were both happy and sad, and possibly ran an entire gamut of other emotions as well.

  Whatever they were, and no matter their reason, Xander wanted to be the one to soak them up for her. To give her his strength and comfort her as best he could.

  He pictured another man holding her as he was and only realized his arms had involuntarily tightened when she let out a tiny squeak. Blast it, he didn’t know what to do with her, but giving her up no longer seemed possible. For the first time in his life, Xander didn’t cringe at the thought of ever after. And it felt pretty damn good.

  Chapter Twelve

  95 days left

  “Come on, Xander!” Sophie yelled through her cupped hands. “Take him down!”

  She highly doubted he could hear her hoarse screams over the deafening crowd in the arena, but she couldn’t help it. She’d had no idea how intense it would be to watch cage fights live and in the front row. Add to that watching as her pseudo-husband-roommate-lover-fighter-guy exchanged blows and kicks and all manner of other violent things with a man called “Brutus the Beast,” and Sophie was ready to pass out.

  Kristin bumped Sophie’s shoulder with her own and leaned in to yell into her ear. “When did you become so bloodthirsty? I’m lovin’ this side of you.”

  Sophie glanced at her friend on the right with Billy sitting on the other side of his wife. “I’d like to see you sit by quietly if Billy was the one locked in that cage with the fighting equivalent of Rambo.”

  “Oh, hell no, honey,” Kristin said. “I’d be over where Reid and Jax are, screaming my damn head off.”

  Billy leaned in to the conversation. “No doubt telling me everything I was doing wrong,” he quipped with a wink at his wife.

  Kristin threaded her right arm through Billy’s left. “Someone has to be honest with you, sugar pie. Every other woman takes one look at those dimples drilled into your cheeks and they become smiling bobblehead dolls.”

  Sophie tuned out her friends’ usual playful banter. They weren’t as consumed by the fight as she was, which was understandable. To them it was just a sporting event where they happened to know one of the athletes. Even Sophie had been enjoying the fights before this, cheering for different fighters and joining in with the rest of the crowd with the “oohs” and “ohs” that came from witnessing particularly hard or impressive hits.

  But that was before Xander stepped into the eight-sided cage and put himself at risk.

  Though Kristin would always be her BFF, Sophie currently felt a closer kinship to the women sitting to her left. Lucie Andrews and Vanessa Maris were accustomed to their men—Reid and Jackson, who were coaching Xander from their place outside the octagon—fighting in the cage and the extreme toll it took on them to watch.

  Every cell in Sophie’s body felt tied in a knot with something pulling on each end. Her butt barely perched on the seat and her hands were clasped together so tightly her fingers were starting to tingle from blood loss. When the horn sounded the end of the round, the ref jumped in to separate the two fighters grappling for control on the mat and pointed them to their corners.

  Xander walked in their direction with his gloved hands on his hips, his body shining with sweat, his chest heaving with labored breaths. Sophie scanned him for any major injuries, but the only obvious injury was his right eye. It had a cut—and by cut, she meant an inch-long, bleeding gash—below it and it was swelling to the point of covering part of his eye.

  “Oh my God, look at his face! When did that happen? I didn’t see…” Her sentence trailed off when a highlight flashed on the enormous jumbotron. It showed Brutus on top with Xander’s legs wrapped around the man’s waist, and then the jerkoff running the clip hit the slow-motion button to show Brutus plowing his elbow toward Xander’s face. Though she knew it to be a replay, her breath still caught in her throat and her hands flew to cover her mouth and nose. At the last second, Xan turned his face to the left, so the elbow glanced off his cheekbone instead of letting it break his nose. “Never mind,” she squeaked out.

  Lucie put her arm around Sophie for a quick side hug then rubbed her back vigorously as though trying to bring Sophie’s body back to the living. “Don’t worry, Sophie, that isn’t nearly as bad as it looks.”

  Sophie’s jaw dropped, and she turned to stare at the calm brunette next to her. It was a damn good thing the crowd was still roaring because she didn’t think she’d be able to control her volume due to the hysteria she was trying desperately to keep in check. “Are you kidding? How is that not bad? It looks like someone cut him with a broadsword for Christ’s sake. He’ll be lucky if he can even see out of his right eye this round.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Vanessa added, reaching across Lucie to pat Sophie’s knee. “Reid says Xander’s one of the toughest bastards he’s ever worked with, and that big guy is totally gassing.”

  “What’s that mean?” Sophie cut a look over to Xander’s opponent.

  Lucie switched from rubbing Sophie’s back to holding her left hand between hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “It means he’s running out of gas. His cardio isn’t up to par with Xander’s so the more energy he exerts, the weaker he gets. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that’s the game plan Reid is giving Xander. Brutus is known for his KO’s and ground-and-pounds, so Xander’s best chance is to wear him out until he makes a mistake Xander can use to his advantage.”

  “Like catching him in a submission,” Sophie said, finally understanding, but no one heard her.

  “Look on the bright side, sugar,” Kristin said. “If Xander gets beaten to a pulp, you can always get Mr. Dark and Broody’s number.”

  “Whose number?”

  “The guy over there in the next section who would rather watch you than the fight. He must like you; he came in to the shop that one Sunday to get coffee, remember? I had to practically shove him out the door.”

  Sophie followed her friend’s line of sight until she found the man in question. When their eyes met, his gaze darted down at his phone as though he hadn’t just been staring at her.

  Memories of where she’d seen him before flashed in her mind. First at the Sweet Spot as a customer. He’d stood out because “dark and skulking” wasn’t their typical customer type, and she would’ve remembered if he’d been in before that. She’d seen him again on the day she and Xander went to Golden Ages. He’d been the man filling out paperwork who’d watched them cross the lobby.

  Two pla
ces might be a coincidence, but three? That was a fricking miracle.

  The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as the realization of what was going on slammed into her. There was only one logical explanation: she was being followed.

  And she had a good idea why.

  Indignation flared in her chest, heating from the inside. Goddamn him. How dare he?

  She shoved to her feet with fire in her veins.

  “Soph, what are you doing? The second round’s about to start.” Kristin gripped her wrist and gave a little tug. “You should at least wait to see what happens with the current husband before hitting up the next one, don’t ya think?”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said through clenched teeth, then made her way to where her uncle’s lackey was sitting.

  “Hey!” She had to yell to be heard over the crescendo of the crowd as Xander and Brutus stood and walked to the center of the octagon. To his credit, the man didn’t try any ridiculous Who, me? act. Instead he just arched a single brow and waited.

  She fisted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Either you stop following me or the next little talk will be with my husband.”

  The guy swallowed thickly as he glanced behind her to where she knew her hulk of a man was getting ready for round two of pummel-and-get-pummeled by a man just as hulkish.

  “And tell my uncle that he’s not getting my bakery or any other business on that block. Not now, or ever, so fuck off.”

  She didn’t wait for a reaction, just pivoted on her spiked heel and stalked off while trying to unclench her fists and taking a deep breath. As she sank into her seat, the ref gave the fighters the go-ahead with a clap. Like a switch, the crowd’s noise level jumped up a hundred decibels.

  She glanced back over to where the man had been sitting. He was gone. Good. She almost wished she could see the look on her uncle’s face when he got her message. The situation handled, she turned her attention back to the fight and hoped like hell Xander didn’t get killed.