Unfortunately, Noah had trained to defend against a jujitsu fighter. A ground game he’d prepared for. Fifteen minutes ducking punches hadn’t been part of his strategy for winning this fight.
A moment later he and Brandon left the conference. “Well, this is not ideal,” Brandon said.
Noah fired a look at his coach. “You think? There’s no way that guy should have made weight.”
“His head must be hollow,” Brandon grumbled, punching the button on the elevator.
“Great. My shots won’t affect him.”
“Look, let’s not start to panic yet. You’re a great fighter. We’ll go online to research the guy’s previous fights tonight and work on a new game plan.”
So much for the hot tub and sauna. Calming his mind? He’d be lucky if he got any sleep.
Another fighter—a flyweight about half Noah’s size—joined them in the elevator. He looked sympathetically at Noah. “It’s days like this I’m glad to be in the flyweight division.”
“Why’s that?” Noah asked, though he’d give up his six-foot, muscular frame for the kid’s athletic, lanky build to get out of this fight.
“Selers is a killer. He put his opponent in the hospital after each of his last three fights.” The elevator doors opened and the kid got out. “Good luck.”
Noah looked at Brandon. “Can we panic a little now?”
* * *
THE CLINIC WAS SLOW, which only served to give Lindsay time to think about what she wasn’t doing tonight.
Noah had texted her to say everything had gone well at the weigh-ins and he would see her on Sunday evening. She’d wished him good luck, even though she wasn’t sure she’d meant it entirely, and had been worried sick and confused ever since. Sure, he’d fought before. Heck, she’d treated his injuries, but this time was different.
This time it wasn’t gorgeous Noah Parks, a guy she’d never consider dating, who was fighting.
This time it was Noah Parks, a man she was undoubtedly falling in love with, who was fighting.
She groaned. This was going to be the longest day ever. Waiting to hear from him, waiting to hear the fight went well, was going to be torture.
You could go and see for yourself.
She’d told him not to expect her there, and he’d accepted that. She wouldn’t change her mind. Besides, it was too late and she had to work.
A quick glance toward the waiting room revealed what it had all day long: empty. She sighed. At least if she was seeing patients and keeping busy, the time would pass quickly and she’d have less time to second guess her decision.
As she filed the patient folders that had collected on top of the file cabinet during their busy week, she pulled his. All three MRIs were fine.
She scanned his treatment list for the past year; a sprained wrist and four stitches above his right eye seemed to be the only real injuries he’d suffered after his fights, other than bruising of the ribs, which had been so severe she’d been shocked when the X-rays revealed no broken bones. Sighing again, she put the folder away. There was only one way to know if she could handle being in a relationship with an MMA fighter.
Closing the file cabinet, she headed to the staff lunchroom where Rebecca was texting on her phone. “Hey, Rebecca?”
“Oh, sorry... Is it getting busy out there?” The girl stashed her phone quickly.
“Not at all. I’m actually contemplating examining myself at this point. Um, do you think you can handle the close on your own?”
Lindsay checked her watch. It was five o’clock. The clinic closed at nine. The emergency staff nurses were even more bored upstairs and Rebecca could call one of them down to the clinic if half of Brookhollow suddenly got sick in the next four hours.
“Of course. You okay?”
Other than losing her mind?
“I’m good. I think I’ll head out early.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow,” Rebecca said, gathering a stack of magazines to read at the front desk.
In the parking lot a few minutes later Lindsay turned the key in the ignition of the minivan. The engine sputtered and roared, then died. “What the...?” She tried again. “Come on.” Nothing.
Seriously? This was happening now? Maybe it was a sign she shouldn’t go. Leaning her head back against her seat, she whispered a silent, desperate prayer and tried the key again. This time the engine wouldn’t even offer a false promise of a purr.
Stupid Doug Cooper had sold her a lemon.
She dialed the number to Bailey’s Place, then opened the door and tossed her legs outside as the phone at the garage continued to ring. “Come on, Bailey...”
“Bailey’s Place,” Bailey, out of breath, huffed a second later.
“Bailey, thank God. I was afraid Nick was working.” Bailey’s cousin was an amazing detail expert but he still had a lot to learn about actually fixing vehicles. “It’s Lindsay. My minivan,” she said through clenched teeth, “won’t start.”
“The one you just bought?”
Would she ever own more than one? “That would be the one, yes.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Seriously, Bailey?” How was she supposed to know? She was a nurse. People she could fix—or at least try to. Vehicles were not her area of expertise.
“Right, sorry. Give me ten minutes. I’m just finishing up with a customer and then I’ll be on my way with the tow truck.”
Eleven minutes later the tow truck pulled into the clinic parking lot and Bailey, dressed in her dark blue coveralls, her long dark hair in a ponytail, jumped down. “Pop the hood for me.”
Lindsay climbed out. “Wouldn’t even know how,” she said.
Bailey laughed. “In addition to my self-defense classes, I think I need to start teaching Basic Vehicle Maintenance for Women.”
“Unless you held the class in the parking lot of Extreme Athletics, your turnout probably wouldn’t be as great.”
“Unfortunately, I think you’re right,” she said, popping the hood. She disappeared beneath it and Lindsay fanned herself with the fight tickets as she waited in the afternoon heat.
Maybe if she asked Lily to come along, she could drive if the van refused to start. She bit her lip. Her friend had already said no, and she understood her hesitancy to return to Newark where her ex-husband was serving time for domestic abuse.
“Your radiator looks to be the problem. Maybe overheated. I’ll have to tow it to the shop and have a look.”
Great. “How long do you think it will take?” If Rachel had been here, she’d have convinced her sister-in-law to tag along...and she could’ve driven them. Lindsay missed her.
“A day or two. I’ll bump it ahead. I still owe you for that petition you started for the insurance claim on the garage last year.”
Right. When Bailey’s shop had burned down. The woman didn’t owe her anything, but who was she to argue now? “Okay, thanks, Bailey.” A day or two was better than a few weeks.
Bailey closed the hood and came toward her. “What are those?” she asked, eyeing the tickets in Lindsay’s hand.
“Tickets to the MMA fights in Newark tonight. Noah gave them to me.”
Maybe the van breaking down had been the wake-up she’d needed to regain her senses.
“You were going to go?” Bailey asked in surprise.
“I was thinking about it for, like, three seconds.” Lindsay shrugged.
“Can’t your plus-one drive?”
“I asked Lily to come with me but she’d already said no...and I don’t feel like forcing the issue with her for obvious reasons.” She went to tuck the tickets away, but Bailey grabbed them.
“These are cage-side seats.” Her eyes were wide.
“Yeah.” As if being closer to the action was a good thing. She shudder
ed at the thought.
“No, Lindsay. Like, cage side. Like, you can smell the sweat and blood from these seats.”
“Gross.” Bailey was definitely one of the guys if she thought that was a selling feature.
“Jump in the truck, we’re going to these fights. I’ll drive.” She smiled ear-to-ear as she reached for her cell. “Ethan’s going to be so jealous.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER the women entered the arena in Newark, showing their front-of-the-line VIP passes to the guy at the door. The look he gave them spoke volumes as he took in her nurse’s uniform and Bailey’s coveralls.
“We look ridiculous,” Lindsay said as they joined the crowd inside. The sign out front had said the event was sold out. The sport had a huge following and, with the fights not yet sanctioned in New York City, the fans flocked to Newark for their MMA entertainment. “Are you at least wearing something underneath those?” She gestured at Bailey’s coveralls.
“In this heat—no.” Bailey scanned the busy entrance. “Over there—merchandise tables.” She pointed to the right where several tables were covered with MMA paraphernalia.
“Well, I guess anything is better than this,” Lindsay said, but she was rethinking the statement a moment later when she stared at her options. “Who are these T-shirts made for?” she asked, holding up a size-large tank top touting As Real As It Gets. It looked like it might fit Melissa.
Or a previous version of herself might have squeezed into it, she abruptly realized.
“They stretch,” Bailey said, grabbing a man’s shirt and a pair of shorts.
Lindsay took the tank top and searched for something other than the very-short shorts that part of her still thought were incredibly cute...but not appropriate for a thirty-five-year-old stepmother of five, she reminded herself.
“I’ll just wear these pants. Kids are wearing them to be cool these days, right?”
Bailey wasn’t listening. She was chatting with two fighters behind the merchandise table as she paid for her clothing.
She was completely star-struck, Lindsay thought, watching the interaction. At least someone would enjoy the evening’s events.
“Hey, Linds, can you take a pic?” Bailey asked, pulling her closer and handing her a cell phone.
“Sure.” Lindsay set her clothes aside and took the picture of Bailey squeezed between the two tall, muscular guys in MMA T-shirts.
“Thank you,” Bailey told them as Lindsay paid for her things.
“Are you going to show that picture to Ethan?”
Bailey laughed. “Texting it to him right now,” she said as they headed toward the washrooms to change.
Ten minutes later, while Bailey took their clothes out to the truck, Lindsay texted Brandon to say they were headed for their seats.
As she walked through the crowded arena, her nerves danced. The excitement and adrenaline coming off the fans was invigorating but at the same time made her stomach lurch.
These fights were no joke. Could she really watch Noah get hit? Could she really watch him hit someone else? She’d seen him train, but that was different. She knew once he stepped inside the ring, she would see a different side of the man she was falling in love with. One she wasn’t sure she was going to like.
Lindsay searched for Brandon in the back of the arena near the dressing rooms. She didn’t want to distract Noah, but now that she was there, all she wanted was to see him.
“Lindsay!” Brandon’s voice cut through the noise in the hallway. “You made it.”
“I haven’t sat through the fights yet, but so far, so good,” she said, relieved to see a familiar face. “How is he?”
“Oh, just great,” Brandon said, but he was frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me or I’m leaving.” She needed little coaxing to leave the stadium and head back to Brookhollow. If she could force Bailey away from the fight to drive her back, that is.
Brandon sighed. “The guy Noah was supposed to fight got injured last minute in training, so he’s facing a different opponent. One we hadn’t prepared for.”
Her stomach did a flip-flop. Fantastic. She was going to see him get crushed.
“Are they allowed to do that? Hardly seems fair.”
“Lindsay, this is MMA, not tennis. The rules are...flexible. Anyway, we got this. I’m not worried,” Brandon said, shrugging.
She wasn’t buying it. “Oh, really? Well, why do you look like you’re about to pee in your pants?”
He pulled her aside and lowered his voice. “Because I’m freaking out,” he admitted. “This dude is big. And he’s only had three fights—all knockouts. We watched YouTube videos last night...” He paused.
It felt as if all the blood had drained out of her body. “I knew coming here was a bad idea. I should leave.” Watching Noah get knocked out... She couldn’t do it.
“No!” Brandon grabbed her arm as she turned to look for the nearest exit. “You have to stay. Come talk to him. I’ve never seen him so worried before a fight. His confidence is shaken, but if he sees that you’re here, that you support him in this...”
“I didn’t say I support him in this.”
“For his sake tonight, pretend you do.”
* * *
NOAH TRIED TO focus his energy on hitting his targets in front of him and not on the panic creeping into his chest. The kid in the elevator had been right. Selers was a killer. And, after watching the man’s fights the night before, he felt sick. Not better, as he had hoped.
Everyone had holes in their game, a predictably timed punch or a repetitive fighting style that could be counted on to develop a counterattack. Not Selers. His fighting style was unpredictable, inconsistent and he seemed to like punching things—a lot and hard. Noah suspected they would remain on their feet without a lot of ground game. His hope for a submission win while he was still conscious was quickly fading, along with his confidence.
He’d been so sure of a win with this fight. He needed this seventh straight win to secure his spot on the UFC fight card in August. His career depended on it.
Somehow he had to find a way to dig deep and leave it all in the cage. Everything he had.
The door behind him opened and his assistant trainer, Dex, lowered the punch shields as he nodded behind him.
Noah wiped his forehead and turned. A smile teased his lips. “You made it.”
“So far...” Lindsay said, scanning the locker room. She kept her back close to the wall and he noticed the discomfort on her face.
But she was here.
“So, this is where you practice?” she asked, avoiding his eyes.
She was nervous and it was cute. It almost eased his own fear and anxiety. “This is where I warm up and train, yeah,” he said, moving toward her and her obviously new, dark blue MMA tank top. “You bought a merchandise shirt?”
“When in Rome, right?”
Glancing down, he noticed the pants from her nurse’s uniform. She’d come straight from work. Obviously this had been a last-minute decision.
“Bailey’s here, too,” she said.
“Let me guess. She’s in the autograph line.”
“Not yet, but I’m sure once she discovers that table, she will be.”
She was really uncomfortable. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, breathing in the soft scent of jasmine.
“Thank you for coming, but you really don’t have to watch the fights.” He took comfort in knowing she was here, but she had yet to smile. He didn’t like her doing something she wasn’t comfortable with, especially now since her worst fears over the brutality were more than likely about to be confirmed.
She shook her head. “I’m here. Don’t worry, I won’t bail now.”
/>
He might.
“Okay. Well, stay with Brandon.”
“Shouldn’t I stay in my assigned seat?” She held out her ticket.
“Once the fights start, yeah. But in the meantime, I worry about you in this crowd by yourself. The fans can get a little rowdy. And once the fight starts, you can cover your eyes or chat with the ring girls,” he said with a laugh.
She nodded.
“Ready?” Brandon asked, entering.
Nope. “Let’s do it.”
Leaning forward Noah pressed a quick kiss to Lindsay’s lips. “Will you put me back together once the fight is over?” he whispered, moving her blond curls away from her face with his wrapped hands and sparring gloves, letting them rest on her shoulders while his gaze searched hers.
Her smile was small, but it was there. “I always do.”
That’s all he needed.
CLIMBING INSIDE THE cage had never bothered him before, but that evening Noah had to admit, the temptation to run in the opposite direction was strong.
Bouncing from one foot to the other, he heard the octagon door click shut and his heart beat in his chest.
He forced several deep breaths as he stared across the mat at his opponent. Their eyes met and he refused to look away, as the referee called them in.
“We want a clean fair fight. You’ve gone over the rules with your corner. You ready?” he asked Selers.
The beast nodded.
“You ready?” he asked him.
He must have nodded as well, because a second later the ref yelled, “Fight!”
Pure adrenaline coursed through him as they circled one another, both weighing their opponent’s game plan. Then a second later, Selers went in for the take-down.
Somehow above the noise of the crowd, he heard Brandon’s voice and he sprawled to defend against being tossed to the mat. A sure and painful defeat was awaiting him there.
Selers moved away, and landed several jabs.
Noah blinked.
The guy’s hands were like bricks contacting with his chin.
He retreated slightly and caught sight of Lindsay’s terrified expression as she watched, one hand half covering her face.
Fighting for Keeps Page 15