Fighting for Keeps

by Grace Brennan

“Yeah, I’m all right now. That guy’s kind of—” she paused as she tried to find the right adjectives, but before she could finish, Cammie nodded in understanding.

  “Overbearing? Arrogant and condescending? Creepy?”

  A giggle erupted from Amelia’s throat, surprising her. She’d never giggled before in her life. Pursing her lips, she cast a considering glance at the drink in front of her. Perhaps it was more potent than she thought. But it was banishing the unease and nerves she felt, so with a shrug, she took another sip.

  “What is that?” Alex asked with a nod at her drink. “Some kind of panty dropper?”

  Eyes widening as she shot a look at him and then at her drink, she fought back another blush. “Panty dropper? What—Ohhhh. I get it. It’s, um, fun on the beach.”

  Jax snorted. “You mean sex on the beach?”

  Amelia took another drink and then grabbed the orange off the rim. “Yeah, that,” she said before sucking the juice off the slice of fruit.

  Glancing up, her eyes landed on Seth. His eyes were tracking her movements with the orange, and feeling bolder, she traced the tip of her tongue over the flesh of the fruit in the guise of catching more juice before licking her lips. He looked up, and the fire in his eyes stole her breath. They locked gazes, and it felt like they were communicating. Right there, she saw all the things he wanted to do with her. Her core tightened, skin sensitive, as her body reacted to the images in her mind.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a sex on the beach before,” Cammie said, breaking the spell. “I wonder what’s in it. It looks good.”

  “Vodka, peach Schnapps, orange juice, and cranberry juice,” Jax answered quietly. Everyone’s eyes shot to him and he shrugged. “What? I’ve done some bartending.”

  Amelia frowned at him, wondering how he was managing to bob and weave in his seat while at the same time, not appearing to move. Head swimming, her eyes crossed and she looked away, watching as her glass made the same motions Jax just had. She puzzled over it for a moment before it hit her that they weren’t really moving. She was tipsy, maybe even a little drunk. Eyeing her drink for a moment, she pushed it away. There was still half a glass left, and she didn’t think she’d been drinking long. This had to be a new lightweight record.

  Giggling to herself, she glanced up to find Seth looking at her, brow furrowed. “You okay?” he asked in concern.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she replied with a wave of her hand, laughing harder when she bumped her glass and it teetered for a moment before staying upright.

  “Are you drunk already?” he asked, eyeing her with a smirk.

  “Oh, no, not drunk. Well, maybe. Heavily tipsy might be a better description.”

  “Is heavily tipsy even a thing?” Alex wondered.

  “I think heavily tipsy is just another phrase for drunk,” Seth replied with a quirk to his lips. “That was fast.”

  Amelia nodded seriously before laughing again. “That’s what I was thinking just a moment ago. That I set a new lightweight record. Hey, I’m a lightweight. Isn’t that a fighter thing? I’m becoming one of you!”

  An inscrutable expression passed across his face, and she wondered at it, even as she flung her hand out to gesture to the rest of the table. She bumped into her drink again, and this time it started to tumble over. In a movement that was almost too fast to follow, Seth reached out and grabbed it, righting it before more than a few drops could slosh out of the rim.

  “She’s definitely drunk,” Cammie said in amusement as Amelia swayed in her seat. “Seth, do you think you could drive her home? We’re not quite ready to leave yet.”

  She watched as Seth shot a look at Cammie, and her brow furrowed as his face blurred and he separated into two Seths. She blinked hard, trying to force her eyes to focus as he exhaled and stood up, coming around to stand at her side.

  “Come on, lightweight. Let’s get you home.”

  Nodding, she wobbled to her feet, grateful when Seth put a steadying hand on her elbow. His touch brought goosebumps on her skin, and she basked in the heat of it as he guided her outside. She paused just outside the door and took a couple deep breaths, hoping to clear her head a little. Seth waited patiently, studying her closely.

  “Are you good enough to walk to the car now?” he asked, amused.

  “Pshhh. I’m totally fine,” she said as she stepped onto the gravel. She promptly tripped, and Seth rushed forward to grab her arm, steadying her. “S’okay. I got this,” she assured him.

  He didn’t look like he believed her at all, but he didn’t say anything as he walked her slowly to his car. Her eyes widened as she took it in, then squinted because the bright orange of the car was glaring, even in the darkness. But it was pretty, and it absolutely looked like something Seth would drive.

  “This is nice,” she said, running her hand over the hood of the car as Seth guided her to the passenger seat. “What is it? A Mustang, right?”

  His pained groan echoed through the empty parking lot. “A Mustang, really? It’s a 1968 Dodge Charger.”

  “Close enough,” she said with a wave of her hand. “It’s a classic American muscle car, just like a Mustang.”

  “Close enough? Seriously? The Charger is nothing like a Mustang—” cutting himself off, he shook his head. “Why am I arguing with a drunk Brit about my car? Come on, let’s get you inside. And whatever you do, don’t puke in Daisy.”

  “Daisy?” she asked as she eased into the seat, irrational jealousy over his car washing over her. She made no promises not to puke in Daisy.

  “Yeah, Daisy. You know, for Daisy Duke,” he replied like it should be obvious what he was talking about, leaning across her to buckle her seatbelt.

  The smartass remark on her lips died when his arm brushed her breast. She sucked in a breath as he froze, not moving a muscle other than to slowly turn his head and meet her gaze. Her breath caught at the heat in his brown eyes, watching as they dropped to her lips and stayed there. Breathlessly, she wet her lips, waiting on him to do what they both wanted, and kiss her.

  Instead, he swallowed hard and backed out of the car, shutting the door gently. Taking a deep breath, she watched as he walked around and got in on his side. Her head was swimming again, but she wasn’t at all sure if it was from the alcohol, or his nearness.

  His car started with a rumbling growl, and he pulled out of the parking lot, the sound of the gravel crunching under the tires and the loud exhaust the only noises in the car. Leaning her head back against the leather seat, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The car smelled of leather polish and Seth, a spicy scent she wasn’t sure she’d ever get enough of.

  It felt like only moments had passed when they pulled up to her house, and she blinked her eyes open, looking around blearily. Maybe she dozed off, because it felt like they just left Cocky Pete’s moments ago. Cursing herself for losing time spent with Seth, she pushed open her door and prepared to get out, stilling when he put his hand on her arm.

  “Let me help you out. You’re probably still unsteady on your feet.”

  Breath trapped in her chest as tingles raced over her skin from his touch, she nodded, not saying anything. He came around and helped her out, keeping his hand wrapped around her arm as he walked her to the door.

  “Can you manage from here?” he asked, voice husky as he searched her eyes.

  “I think so,” she said shakily, fighting the urge to lean into him more fully. “Do you want to come in?”

  He shook his head as his eyes dropped to her lips. Meeting her gaze again, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I think I’m gonna head back to Rocky River, if you’re okay. Take an aspirin and drink a glass of water before you go to bed. You didn’t drink a lot, but judging by how fast you got drunk, you might have a hangover in the morning. Those will help.”

  Shoulders slumping in defeat, she nodded. “I suck as a seductress,” she muttered under her breath, prepared to tell him goodnight. She paused when he froze, sucking i
n a breath like he heard her. Oh, bloody hell, supernatural hearing. She totally forgot. Cheeks burning, she dropped her gaze quickly. She felt him cup her cheek, and she gasped at the unexpected contact, her eyes shooting up to meet his.

  “You, suck as a seductress? I think if you were any better at it, I’d be worshipping at your feet day and night,” he replied, his voice gravelly and strained. “As it is, I don’t know how I’ve managed to refrain up till now. You’re fucking potent, Amelia. It’s been all I can do to keep my hands off you tonight.” His thumb brushed her cheek as his gaze dropped to her lips for a moment, and when he looked up, they were a blazing golden color. “I want to kiss you more than I want my next breath, but I won’t do it while you’re drunk. I want both of us to be fully sober, aware of every moment. I want us to savor, to enjoy, to remember it when we wake up.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, heart racing and unable to form more words, her lips parted as he passed his thumb gently over her bottom lip.

  “Go inside, do what I told you to do, and go to bed. We’ll pick this up later. That’s a promise,” he said softly, taking her keys from her hand and unlocking the door for her, gesturing her through. “Goodnight, Amelia.”

  “Goodnight,” she replied, mind still fuzzy from his touch and his words, taking the keys back from him.

  Closing the door behind her, she kicked her shoes off and unsteadily made her way to her bedroom. She thought maybe she was supposed to wash her makeup off before bed, but she was going to ignore that little rule in favor of lying down and hopefully stopping the spinning.

  Shit. Aspirin and water. Changing course, she veered off to the kitchen and popped two tablets, suddenly thirsty and chugging down the water. Once done, she made her way to the bedroom and plopped onto the bed, still fully clothed.

  Almost instantly drifting to sleep, her last thoughts were of Seth, and the seduction that suddenly felt like so much more than research. It felt real, solid, like everything she never knew she wanted. Despite the fun, floaty feeling of her mind, fear crept in like wisps of smoke. She might be getting more than she bargained for, and she wasn’t sure she could risk her heart, or why she was positive moving forward with this would be doing just that.

  Seth walked into the kitchen the next morning, running his fingers through hair still wet from his shower. He didn’t sleep well last night, unable to do more than think of Amelia, and when he did sleep, it was only to dream of her. He was up before the dawn this morning, and he went out to train, trying to work through the sexual frustration he felt upon waking. He was channeling all his frustration, need, and anger with Zane, into it. He was going to be spending a lot of time training today, because he wanted, no—needed—to beat Zane at the fight tomorrow night.

  Exhaling, he put on a pot of coffee. He hated to admit it, and he wouldn’t to anyone else, but he worried he might not be able to beat the tiger shifter. His animal was a big hinderance a lot of times during matches. The leopard would taunt him before the first punch was even thrown, and Seth would get so frustrated and worked up that his mind wasn’t totally in the fight, and he’d rush his moves, or make stupid mistakes. His cat didn’t always do it, but there was no rhyme or reason for when he did. Seth would just go into this as prepared as he could be.

  Because Zane needed to be taught a lesson, needed his ass handed to him, and Seth was itching to be the one who did it. He’d never liked the fucker, but what he did to Amelia last night, cornering her and forcing his attentions on her, was crossing a huge line. It was all Seth could do not to kill him on the spot, and he’d almost let his cat’s instinct to attack overwhelm him. If they hadn’t been in public, around humans, he might not have been able to control himself.

  He poured a cup of coffee, wondering if Amelia was up yet. Maybe he should head over in a little bit, bring her some coffee and breakfast. She would probably be fighting a hangover today. He couldn’t believe how quickly she got drunk, and how little it had taken. Lips quirking, he took a sip of coffee as he thought back to last night. She was a funny drunk, and it was all he could do not to laugh when she spit the beer out.

  His smile faded as he got out the fixings for biscuits and gravy. Spending time with her last night was enough to make him know he couldn’t resist her any longer. For better or worse, he was in this now.

  Mate.

  Exhaling, he acknowledged that his cat was right. He wanted to think it was just the leopard fucking with him again, but he’d never felt this way about another woman. And maybe Cammie was right, and pursuing Amelia, being with her, would be enough to glue his broken natures back together again.

  Go back. Go back now.

  Bending over, Seth put his hands on his knees and panted. Refusing to acknowledge his cat’s demands, he sank to the ground, needing to rest. He was skinny and malnourished, and it made trying to put distance between him and his clan hard. It was slow going. He left this morning before dawn, hours ago, and he didn’t think he’d made it very far yet.

  But he had to put more distance between him and this place. His family and clan wouldn’t care either way that he was gone. But the last thing he wanted was to be taken by the Warner clan again. They didn’t treat him badly after they took him, but they were the reason his life turned out this way.

  He should have been in Alpha training. He should have been spending his days learning how to be the best, still the apple of his father and grandfather’s eye, still revered in the eyes of his clan. He should have still been his mother’s favorite. He should be clean and have a full belly.

  And he wasn’t because of the Warner’s actions. He hated them with a fiery intensity, and he’d rather die than be taken by them again.

  Stomach growling, the sensation painful, he pushed himself up and headed to a stream he could see in the distance. Maybe there would be some berry bushes by it, like there were by his home. It wasn’t much, but it was something. If he could let his leopard out to hunt, he would. But he knew the cat would try to take him back home.

  Go back, his animal said again. But this time the words were desperate and pleading, nothing like the demands of before. We can’t survive on our own. We’ll starve to death. Go. Back.

  Like hell he would. He might only be twelve, but he could do this. Besides, he’d been surviving on his own for the last five years. And anything was better than being with his clan. He focused all his willpower and strength at pushing his cat’s voice down. He needed to focus on survival, not on what his cat was saying. But once he managed it and couldn’t hear his cat anymore, Seth felt sad. Like he’d just broken a major piece of their connection, and he’d never be able to get it back.

  Fuck. Seth ran a shaky hand over his face as the memory faded. This was the second flashback he’d had in the past week, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Cammie’s kidnapping bringing old memories back, or because the situation with Amelia was making him think about it more.

  Either way, it wasn’t something he wanted to examine right now. He was just beginning to accept that Amelia was his mate. And to his surprise, he found himself wanting it, wanting that connection with her badly. But if he kept thinking about his past, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to allow himself to go there with her.

  But you see she’s our mate. So you should see that the divide between us was always your fault.

  Maybe so, but you need to see that we had to leave the clan, and stop being such a dick. We never would have met her if we stayed. Think about that.

  His animal huffed and subsided inside him, and Seth gave a smirk of satisfaction. He didn’t think anyone else ever fought with their animals like he did with his, and he was probably crazy for doing it. But it felt awesome to get the last word in, and he didn’t care what that said about him. Mood improving by the second, his thoughts turned again to Amelia as he got back to making breakfast.

  Bending to put the biscuits in the oven and then starting to brown the sausage for the gravy, he laughed as he remembered dropping her off at her hou
se. He couldn’t believe she thought she sucked as a seductress. Although, to be fair, she hadn’t done anything he would have recognized as seduction, and he wouldn’t have known she was trying if she hadn’t told him. But everything she did was seductive, down to her graceful movements when she did something as simple as hooking her hair behind her ears.

  Sausage ready, he started adding milk and flour to make the gravy. He wasn’t at all sure he would be enough to make her want to stay and not go back to England. But he didn’t want just a fling with her. He was fighting for keeps, and he’d be fighting with everything he had.

  The back door opened and Cammie walked in, nose in the air as she sniffed. “Something smells amazing.”

  “Biscuits and sausage gravy,” he said, stirring the gravy then taking the biscuits out of the oven. “You’re welcome to have some if you haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

  “I already ate, but I wouldn’t mind taking some of that home. It’s making me hungry again. But no real surprise there. I basically stay hungry these days,” she replied, taking a seat at the island. “Did you get Amelia home okay last night?”

  “Yeah,” he said, stirring the gravy a final time before turning the burner off and twisting to face her. “What was up with that? Bringing her to Cocky Pete’s and not telling me first. Were you trying to matchmake?”

  “Actually, it was Ian’s idea. You shouldn’t look so surprised. He did it to me with Alex, too. But I thought it was a good idea. You were trying to ignore her, and your cat’s claim that she’s your mate. I thought if you spent some time together, you’d bend on that a little. Did you?”

  Shaking his head, he grabbed some Tupperware and started scooping gravy into it. “That could have backfired, you know. And I would have been really pissed if she puked in my car.”

  “I’d have cleaned it if she had. But could have backfired means it didn’t. It worked, didn’t it?”

  “Okay, yes, it worked,” he admitted, exhaling. “I don’t see this working out, though. Did you know she’s a scientist?”