“Wow, thank you. I didn’t realize the clinic had accumulated so much over the years.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm.
“You thirsty?” She was and she hadn’t done much of the work.
“A soda would be great if you have one.”
“Follow me.” She led the way through the clinic to the staff lunchroom, pausing at the door. “Technically, you’re not allowed in here, but I’ll make an exception for today.”
She flicked on the light and went to the fridge. “All I have is diet.”
“I’ll take it. I still need to cut three pounds before my weigh-ins anyway.” He leaned against the counter.
“Here you are,” she said, handing him a soda and opening one for herself.
Lindsay watched as he guzzled the soda and tossed the can into the blue recycle bin near the door.
She took a sip of hers, fighting the urge to bring up the subject of the sponsorship. But the prolonged silence only served to make her acutely aware that they were alone. “So, who is your new sponsor?”
“Brandon said he’d tell me about it later tonight. It really doesn’t matter—any sponsor is better than none.” He paused, studying her. “Look, I know you’d rather not talk about this stuff, so let’s not...” He lowered his gaze on her lips.
“What?” she asked, playing with the rim of the can.
“I’m trying to remember what your lips feel like.”
Talking about the sponsorship seemed like a better discussion. It was one that reminded her why she’d yet to kiss him again. One that reminded her that despite all of the things she liked about Noah, there was one deal breaker that they couldn’t move past.
He took a step toward her and she took a step back.
“You’re not even supposed to be in here...”
Noah reached for her and pulled her closer. Taking her soda from her, he took a sip and set the can on the counter behind him. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” he murmured against her ear.
A shiver danced down her spine and her entire body came alive. “Noah...I don’t know what you think you’re doing...”
“I’m going to kiss you again. Isn’t it obvious from the way I’m whispering against your ear...?” he whispered. “The way I’m tightening my grip on your hips to keep you in my arms...” His grip tightened. “And the way I’m lowering my head toward yours...”
Lindsay swallowed hard when his gaze locked with hers, his lips an inch above hers. She closed her eyes slowly, waiting in anticipation of a kiss she didn’t want to fight. Blame it on weeks of turmoil and life-changing events or the way he smelled faintly of the promise of summer—it didn’t matter. She wanted this kiss...from him...right now.
So where was it?
She opened her eyes and frowned as she saw him still standing there, staring at her, his lips a fraction of an inch away but still not touching hers.
“Noah. Are you going to kiss me or not?”
“Why don’t you help me out here, Lindsay? I’ve come as far as I go, the rest is up to you,” he said hoarsely as his eyes flitted between hers and her mouth.
She didn’t hesitate, stepping closer into his embrace and reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as her lips met his.
Noah’s hands left her hips and circled her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss.
If common sense was voicing its concern, Lindsay certainly wasn’t paying attention as her hands slid down his arms and she appreciated the strength in his biceps, resting her hands on his at her neck.
He broke away then, and when his eyes opened, the affection she saw there took her breath away more than the kiss had. He brushed his hand along her cheek. “I was lying.”
She blinked. “Huh?” Lying? About what? At that moment she could barely remember her own name let alone any discussion they may have had in the past ten minutes.
“When I said I was trying to remember what your lips felt like.” He touched her bottom lip with his thumb. “I remembered—too well.”
“Was it as good the second time?”
He pretended to think, wrapping his arms around her once more. “Hard to know for sure... I think I need to try it again...”
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER A QUICK shower and a protein shake, Noah hopped on his motorcycle and headed to the pool hall to meet Brandon.
When he walked in, several guys from the MMA club and some of his coworkers at the fire hall were standing around a corner table laughing loudly at something Brandon had said. They sobered quickly when they saw him.
Something was up. “Hey, guys, what’s so funny?”
“It’s actually not funny...in fact...it’s really quite serious,” Ethan said, tapping him on the shoulder before bursting into another fit of laughter.
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s something to joke about,” Ethan’s brother, Jim, said, turning his head to smother a laugh of his own.
“Someone care to enlighten me about the joke I’m obviously the butt of?” Noah asked, sitting across from Brandon. What were all of these guys doing here anyway?
Brandon reached into a bag next to him, pulled out a bright yellow piece of fabric and tossed it to him.
Noah read the hot-pink logo on the thin, stretchy fabric and stared in disbelief. This had to be a joke. He turned the shorts around in his hand. “Tinactin?”
Brandon tried desperately to look serious. “Your new sponsor I was telling you about. Congrats.”
The men started laughing again and Noah shook his head. “An athlete’s-foot cream?”
“Look, you’re a new fighter. Everlast isn’t exactly knocking on your door. And what’s wrong with these shorts?” Brandon said before choking on another laugh.
Noah tossed the briefs to his coach.
“Forget it, Brandon. I refuse to embarrass myself in front of millions of viewers.”
“Win or lose the fight, they’ll give you five grand.”
His mouth gaped. “Five grand?”
The temptation was too strong. He needed the cash. “Let me see the...shorts...again,” he said, taking them from his manager.
He held them up and stretched the fabric.
Next to him, Luke Dawson took the shorts and tossed them back to Brandon. “Tell the kid the truth,” he said.
Noah glanced between the two men. What was Luke talking about?
Brandon grinned. “We were messing with you.” He nodded toward Luke. “Luke’s company—Dawson’s Architecture—is your new sponsor.”
Relieved, he turned to Luke. “Wow, thanks, man.” Then he paused. “Please tell me you’re not expecting me to wear shorts like those.”
Luke laughed, handing him a pair of black boxer briefs instead. The Dawson’s Architecture logo was across the back.
These he could handle.
Around him, the other men were still laughing.
“I can’t believe you were actually considering wearing these,” Brandon said.
His coach had no idea.
* * *
THREE MISSED CALLS. Lindsay smiled as she took her phone out of her purse in the clinic’s lunchroom a week later. Normally if a guy called her that much, she’d consider changing her number and listing his profile on Stalker.com, but since it was Noah, she decided his persistence was cute.
But a second glance at the numbers revealed only one call was actually from Noah. One was from her mother—of course—and the other was from Henderson Law Firm, her brother’s lawyer’s office. She frowned. They hadn’t left a voice mail. It had been weeks since the accident; what could they possibly need to speak to her about now?
Rebecca popped her head around the corner of the lunchroom door. “Hey, Lindsay
, you have a visitor.”
The way she said it, Lindsay knew exactly who it was. Dropping her phone into her purse, she made her way down the hall, pulling her hair out of the ponytail as she went.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Noah said.
“I don’t answer a call and you stalk me?” she said, pulling him through the clinic door to talk outside...so she could hug him without onlookers.
“Not that I wouldn’t stalk you, but I actually stopped by to give you these,” he said, handing her two tickets for the MMA fight in Newark.
Her excitement over seeing him faded. “I told you I didn’t think I could come.”
He lifted her chin and placed a kiss on her nose. “I know you did, and I’m not forcing you to. Every fight they give me extra tickets—for family, I guess—and I usually toss them, but I thought maybe...” He shrugged.
Way to pull on the heartstrings, Noah. “Playing the ‘my mom walked out and my dad’s useless card’ is not playing fair, you know.”
He laughed and hugged her to his chest. He’d always been rock-hard solid, but the past few days leading up to the fight weigh-ins, he was even more rock-cut and stronger.
“You don’t have to come. Sell them on eBay if you want. I thought I’d give them to you in case by some miracle you had the urge to watch—”
“You knock some poor helpless guy on his butt?” she said, finishing his sentence. “Doesn’t seem likely.”
He kissed her forehead before releasing her. “Okay, but I had to try.”
She cleared her throat, flicking the tickets against her fingers. “When do you leave for Newark?”
“Tomorrow morning. So, the other reason I stopped by...I was hoping you’d let me watch you eat tonight.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound stalker-ish at all.”
“I still have half a pound to cut, so Brandon has me on a liquid diet this week until after the weigh-ins, but I’d like to take you out.”
“I’d love to tease you with a juicy steak you can’t eat, but Ben’s in Newark today, so after work I’m picking the kids up from summer camp and Leigh’s, and we’re planning to have a picnic. I’d invite you...but I really need some time one-on-one with them.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
She sensed he didn’t, but Ben would be heading back to Newark soon and she had to talk to the kids about how the six of them could make things work without him.
Also, there was something she’d promised Jacob they would do.
“I’ll call you later?” She handed him the tickets.
“Keep them in case you have a change of heart.” He kissed her quickly on the forehead and headed to his motorcycle.
“Hey, Noah! Break a leg?”
He shook his head as he put on his helmet. “You don’t say that when there’s an actual possibility I could, crazy girl.”
He blew her a kiss and started the bike.
* * *
LINDSAY SET THE picnic basket down on the tall, overgrown grass of the B and B yard later that evening. Unfolding her red-and-white-checked blanket, she tossed it into the air. “Mel, can you grab the other side?” she asked, lowering it to the ground, where Jacob and Caleb immediately sat on the edges to keep it from folding in the wind.
She took Mackenzie and Abigail out of the stroller and set them next to their brothers before opening the picnic basket. She’d gone to Joey’s diner on the way home to pick up sandwiches, salad and dessert.
Then she’d stopped at the home-and-garden store and bought two small maple trees.
The little boys sat with their tiny plastic shovels clutched in their hands.
“Should we eat or plant first?” she asked.
“Plant!” they both said.
“Melissa, you okay with that?”
The girl nodded, standing and picking up one of the trees. “Where did you guys decide you want to plant them?” she asked her brothers.
“Over by Elmer,” Jacob said.
“Can you two manage the other tree?” Lindsay asked, taking Abigail and Mackenzie’s hands to lead them across the yard toward where the family’s pet guinea pig was buried.
They gathered around the tiny seedling that had been Elmer’s memorial, and Lindsay, using the larger shovel she’d brought, dug two holes, making sure they were far enough apart to grow.
A few minutes later when both trees had been planted, they all stood back to admire their work. She didn’t profess to have a green thumb and they weren’t perfect, but they would be a beautiful reminder of the children’s parents.
“Good job, guys,” Lindsay told them, wrapping an arm around each of the boys.
“Yeah, it’s really cool,” Mel agreed. “I miss them so much.”
The boys’ expressions saddened. “Me, too,” Jacob said.
“Me, three,” Caleb added.
“Me, four,” Lindsay said, hugging them tighter and offering Melissa a reassuring smile.
Caleb glanced at Abby and Mackenzie. “Do you think they miss Mom and Dad?”
Lindsay swallowed a lump in her throat as she watched the baby girls run around the yard. “Yeah, I think they do.”
She sat on the grass and motioned for the kids to sit.
Keep it together. Just get through what you need to say.
“I know the past six weeks have been tough and...I’ll never be able to replace your parents...but I’m going to try my best to make sure you kids are always loved, always safe and always have someone you can depend on. I’m going to make mistakes and I’m not always going to do things the way your parents would have, but I love all of you so much...”
Great, so much for keeping it together, she thought as her eyes filled with tears.
She gathered them all in for a group hug, knowing this was one challenge in her life she couldn’t run away from. And she no longer wanted to.
Jacob kissed her cheek, wiping away a tear with his tiny hand. “Don’t worry, Aunt Lindsay. We’re a team. We will take care of you, too.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE PREFIGHT SESSIONS and weigh-ins Friday evening were a zoo of sports reporters, fans, fighters and their families, and coaches rushing from one scheduled media event to another at the Newark Marriott Conference Center. The big-name fighters were bombarded with requests for autographs as they made their way through the crowds and the lesser-known guys blended into the sea of people, starving and praying they made the weight cut.
When Noah had weighed himself that morning he’d been half a pound under the maximum requirement for the light heavyweight bout. By the next day he’d be ten pounds over, that’s how it worked, but for now, his stomach rumbled and he was desperate to weigh in and get back to his hotel.
He was looking forward to a quick final workout followed by a great meal then the hot tub and sauna while he attempted to quiet his mind and prepare mentally for the fight ahead of him.
Following Brandon down the hall to the Grand Ballroom where the weigh-ins had already started, he took several deep breaths. Squaring off with his opponent for the prefight photos didn’t faze him. Mentally he was tough; a stare-down couldn’t shake him.
It was that scale that had him on edge.
“You’re sure that scale at the gym was calibrated properly, right?” he asked Brandon as they flashed their access passes to the security guards at the door.
“I guess we’re about to find out,” his coach said as they entered the standing-room-only space and headed toward the fighters’ section.
Calvin Sparks, the owner of TKO Fighting, was at the podium, announcing the weight of a lightweight contender Noah recognized from his last match. The kid might weigh a hundred and forty-five pounds, but a hundred and thirty of it was muscle.
His taller, less muscular opponent
stood, looking slightly nervous, waiting to square off. The rest of the fighters gathered on opposite sides of the stage in the conference room.
Opponents, whether the prefight hype had been a personal battle or not, were supposed to stand on opposite sides from each other. But Noah didn’t see Romeo Rodriguez, the guy he was scheduled to fight tomorrow night.
“Brandon, do you see Rodriguez over there?” he whispered.
Brandon shook his head.
As the weigh-ins continued, Noah began to grow nervous. Where was the guy? The fighters weighed in one by one and squared off with their opponent for the media shot, then went their separate ways. When his turn came, he fought to keep his hands steady as he stepped onto the scale.
One eighty-six.
A pound over.
They’d allow that.
Stepping down, Noah waited to see Rodriguez appear.
Instead a guy he didn’t recognize took the stage. A big man. There’s no way he would be fighting him—the guy would never come in under one eighty-five.
Locating Brandon at the back of the room, he frowned.
Brandon shrugged, his eyes wide.
“Next up, we have light heavyweight fighter Craig Selers. He will be replacing Romeo Rodriguez in the fight against Noah Parks.
“Rodriguez suffered a torn hamstring in training yesterday,” Calvin told the reporters.
Noah, his eyes glued to his new opponent, barely heard him.
When Selers took the scale, Noah held his breath. He wasn’t sure if fighting an unknown beast was better or worse than having the fight canceled. He needed the money from this fight, but he also valued his life. He’d never even heard of this guy before, so he had no idea of his fighting style or record.
“One eighty-six. He’s good,” the official at the scale told Calvin, sounding slightly surprised himself.
Seriously? The guy must have chicken legs to pull off that weight with an extreme upper body that made Noah look like a teenage boy.
He squared off with his new opponent and cringed when the guy didn’t even raise his hands. Clearly he didn’t believe in sportsmanship, which usually meant he would be a brawler in the cage.
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