No Holds (The Fighter Series Book 4)

by TC Matson

  “Speaking of, when are you coming back?” I ask. “New Hampshire isn’t the same without you.”

  She went with her parents to Arizona about four months ago to aid with her grandfather’s declining health. He’s a stubborn and sharp-minded man who cherishes his independence. He’s lived alone for the past fifteen years after his wife passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack. Even though he believed he could still take care of himself the latter part of his life, it was clear how frail he was becoming. Unfortunately, even with all the extra help, he passed away.

  “If you can find a way to save me, I can get on the plane now. I won’t care how you do it, just as long as it works,” she snorts.

  “Aw. But your mom is so nice. It can’t be that bad.”

  “First, the men here aren’t worth looking at. Second, Mom had a brilliant idea of individually tagging everything of grandpa’s. And I mean everything. Things she’s going to keep. Items to sell. Things we should donate.” She groans. “I think Dad needs to—”

  “Don’t you dare go there!” I shriek in laughter.

  “What?” Her tone is coy. “I was going to say Dad needs to take her on a cruise or a nice vacation.”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “So what are you overreacting about with this guy? You like him a lot, don’t you?” She’s serious now.

  “I do. I’m just confused. He’s a gentleman, thoughtful, sweet, kind, but I swear there’s a contradiction. He has bad boy written all over him.”

  “Then you need to put that bad boy all over you,” she snickers.

  “You’re impossible.” I groan a laugh.

  “You’re overreacting and you know it. You’ve probably been sitting there wondering if he’s dating other women. God, you’re your own worst enemy. You always have been. Girl, you haven’t lost your touch since taking your little dating hiatus. You’re not stupid. You know he’s interested. I’m miles away and can tell you it’s you on his mind. Get a grip. Breathe. Enjoy this.”

  “You need to hurry home.”

  “I’m praying I’ll be home in a few weeks. Which reminds me, I need to go help her with his coins. Do you know she’s going through each piece one by one?”

  I giggle. “Have fun with that. Love you.”

  “You’re jealous and you know it. Love you too.” She hangs up.

  We’ve been friends since fifth grade. We were paired together for a simple science project, back when they were required. I swore my teacher hated me. I was the quiet girl in the corner and Candice was the obnoxious tomboy who sat in the same row as me and lived a few houses down.

  Every day for a whole week I went to her house because I knew forty percent of our grade was about participation and she wasn’t participating. She couldn’t care less about it. Most of the days were spent watching her ride her bike and flirt with the little boy next door while I tried figuring out what the heck we were going to do. She shrugged off every idea I had and then wanted to do some stupid experiment involving paper planes. On the last day before the project was due, I figured it out. A lemon battery.

  We made an A with not so much help from her.

  But that project started something—a beautiful friendship.

  She was more daring than me. I was this quiet girl who wasn’t sure of anything, and she was loud and brave. We quickly grew into best friends. She made me venture out and I made her see that quietness wasn’t always that bad.

  For fifteen years, she’s been the crazy to my normal.

  Chapter 9

  I went to bed with Ryker on my mind and dammit, he was the first thing to appear the moment my eyes sprang open. Everything yesterday was torturous, from the time, to the dark thoughts of why I hadn’t heard from him, even to the damn urges to call him.

  I miss his goofy company, his slick compliments, and the eyes boring into me in the most intimate way.

  It’s too soon for it. And I know it.

  Today, I went to work trying to distract myself, burying my mind deeply into part of my project. I combated the compulsion to give in and text him every five minutes. Lily was my diversion. But it didn’t soothe my craving. When the day ended, I was out of the office in a flash, excited that soon, I’ll have him in my sights.

  The rumble of his truck makes its way to my chest and threads excitement to grip my heart. I watch through the blinds as he strides his solid frame around his truck and starts up my sidewalk.

  Amusement flickers in his icy blues—the very ones I’ve craved—when I pull open the door. They scan over me and a wide grin stretches across his lips. “As long as I can watch, I’ll cook them my damn self.”

  I giggle knowing he’s talking about my shirt. Teal with black scripted writing: Will do squats for tacos. The color makes me feel sexy as hell.

  I scrunch my nose. “I don’t like squats. They make me super sore,” I admit.

  He licks his lips. “I’ll throw you over my shoulder and squat for the both of us.”

  As long as you’re shirtless, I think. “Then I’d have to cook you tacos.”

  “That sounds pretty enticing.”

  His sexy grin is going to be the death of me.

  The air around us crackles with electricity—static, sexually charged waiting for the moment to combust. His presence suffocates me, making it hard for me to breathe.

  “You ready?” I shut the door behind me, pulling myself out from under the heavy blanket of desire.

  We start down the sidewalk, his large masculine body falling into perfect rhythm beside my petite one.

  “Did you work out this morning?” I ask, keeping my view on the cement.

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you ever nap?” I puff out in disbelief.

  “Rarely.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Practice makes perfect. You need to come to the gym and work out with me.”

  This surprises a cackle out of me. “I’d die of embarrassment after falling over in the first ten minutes. Plus, I don’t do gyms. They make me self-conscious and the one time I go for a friend, I have a cringe worthy experience.”

  “That won’t be happening in my gym again,” he says with such seriousness I know he’s telling the truth. “To make you feel better and relinquish your embarrassment, I can tell you stories of when I first started. They’re a bit graphic and teeter on excruciatingly shameful, but it’s because I pushed myself too hard, like I had a point to prove. You don’t.” He looks to me. “And what the hell do you have to be self-conscious about?”

  “The first thing you see when you enter your gym is some gorgeous woman in perfect shape, half naked, and with massive boobs.” That might have been too envious.

  “You’re self-conscious over fake? You should be elated more men prefer real tits over the hard fake ones, regardless of the size. Have you ever looked down? Yours are perfect.”

  I tighten my lips coquettishly. “You’ve been staring at my boobs?”

  I’m met with a pretty-boy lopsided smirk. “Not staring. Observing. Appreciating.”

  We stride several paces in quietness as we approach the crossroad just before the park, when out of the corner of my eye, I see him check the opposite direction. He grasps my hand, and with a simple tug, changes our route, towing me along beside him across the street.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  He releases my hand as we step onto the sidewalk. “Trust me.”

  Thing is, I do. Well, sort of. Physically, I feel I’m in the best company if anything were to happen. Protected by a sturdy man is a feeling of safety I’ve not felt in a long while. Truth be told, when I run, the what ifs are always lurking in the back of my mind, trying to pull me under the waves of fear, but I refuse to live my life in trepidation. Just with him around, those feelings of unease dissipate. Completely vanish. But emotionally, I’m timid and uncertain of his ulterior motives. I want to trust him, I do, but this could all be a curtain of deception.

  “How’d
you become a gym owner?” I ask, pushing away the thoughts threatening to pull me into the darkness.

  “Fed up with having to rely on someone else. I need specific things and none of the other gyms offered it. I couldn’t have it all so I created it.”

  Our reflection in the glass store fronts catches my attention. I look so small next to him. His large muscles contract and release as he swings his arms and pushes off his feet. All his visible tattoos look like a squiggle mess dancing in the images reflected.

  My heart flits when I meet his eyes watching me watch him in the glass. Quickly, I avert my view back in front of me, trying to play it off, but I can feel his grin boring into the side of me.

  He clutches my hand and stops me. “We’ll walk from here so you don’t get cramps.”

  I look around us. We’re in the middle of town. Way off my normal beaten path. “Where are you taking me?

  “Trust me,” he repeats with a lingering gaze.

  Our pace is slower and it feels intimate with my hand in his. He hasn’t let it go. It feels perfect, mine so small enveloped by the protective shell of his. My heart is pounding from both running and the emotions he’s invoking inside of me. I need to guard myself, but all this, him, it feels good.

  He tugs me under a cream yellow awning and into a small shop. “Impromptu ice cream pit stop.”

  I look at him with horror. “Milk products and running? Unless you want to hold my hair while I throw up, this is a really bad idea.”

  He ignores me while leading me to the counter and tips his head at the menu. “Ever been here?”

  “No.”

  He beams with pride. “Their shaved ice is the best.”

  We order two small orders—mine Hawaiian, his Tiger’s Blood—and head back outside and sit at a table.

  “Do you have any family around here?” he asks shoving a large spoonful—one that would give me instant brain freeze—into his mouth.

  “My parents moved a few hours away after I got established with the business. They’ve always wanted to live on lake front property and when the opportunity presented itself, they ran off.” I snort.

  His pale blues reveal nothing when he flicks them up to me. “Are you an only child?”

  “Yes. Although they consider my best friend, Candice, their second daughter.”

  “She live around here?”

  “Just a few blocks away from me. But she’s in Arizona right now. She went out there to help take care of her grandfather, but he passed away. Now her mother has her helping with the personal belongings and taking care of family matters.” I frown, saddened at the thought of just how long she’s been gone.

  “When is she coming back?”

  I push the ice around with my spoon. “I’m hoping soon. I can’t go too much longer without her. She’s the yin to my yang. The insanity to my sanity.”

  He grunts in understanding. “My boy Matt moved to NC after taking a job offer. There isn’t a coming back in his sights, only his girl. Now I’m stuck with Kyce…the little brother.”

  “That can’t be a bad thing,” I say.

  “Says the only child,” he says pointing his spoon at me.

  I giggle.

  We finish our shaved ice and head back toward my house at a much slower pace. I tell him about Candice and how she’s the closest thing to a sister I can compare to and how as we grew older we used to argue about homework, clothes, and boys. I would study, and she would want to party. I would be wary of the guy she was dating, and she would be screwing him. I would love a certain dress, and she made sure I looked my best in it.

  He takes in everything, adding his two cents about his brothers or Matt here and there, but he keeps the conversation on me, which feels weird delving into me. I liked keeping it on him. The less involved I get, the less likely I’m going to get hurt.

  I start up my stairs when he clasps my hand, twisting me into his chest. His eyes are heavy, full of hope, and glimmering with passion. It causes my heart to stop, skip, flutter…name it and it’s doing it.

  “Come work out with me at the gym tomorrow. Whatever time you prefer.”

  I swallow the lustful lump in my throat. “I can’t. I have a dinner meeting to attend,” I answer. “It’s a business meeting with a brilliant photographer. One of my brides changed her mind basically at last minute and she wants him. He’s a busy man this time of year and I’m desperate to book him. He’s extraordinary. This is a plea for help.” I watch as a possessiveness drowns those electrifying blues and it tickles my back.

  The muscles in his jaw tighten and his nostrils flare as he blinks slowly. “Then Wednesday you come to me.” His voice sounds slightly strained.

  I pat the hard muscles on his chest. “I told you I don’t enjoy working out in gyms.”

  “You’ll enjoy it with me.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but I’m stopped in my tracks.

  He kisses me, slowly and delicately, dragging his hand over my shoulder. Softly, he grips the side of my neck and traces his thumb over my cheek. The kiss grows intense with more urgency and my pulse kicks up as his tongue plunges deeper, pressing his lips harder into me.

  Everything around me disappears. It’s just him. Me. And an incredible ache to feel him all over me.

  He leans back and my eyes flutter open. “I…” Nope. I have nothing to respond with.

  He licks his lips, savoring my taste. “Come to me, Whitney,” he rasps, low and thickly.

  “How can I say no to that?” I breathe in a pant.

  One dimple emerges. “You can’t.”

  He dips his head, his warm lips captivating me again. I lock my hands around his neck, steadying myself as he guides us up the stairs. He bends, snaking a hand up my back, and splays it across my shoulder blades, tugging me closer to him. We hit the door and he flexes his hips into me. I’m fully aware I’m not the only one fully ignited.

  It jolts my thoughts, and I slide my hands between us, gently pushing him back and reluctantly pulling my lips from his. I’m fighting my aroused body. It begs to feel him, all of him, all over me. But my mind stops me.

  His eyes are heavy as his lips twist up. “Good night, Whitney.” I feel the low rumble throughout my body, deep between my legs, and I fight to keep my eyes from rolling.

  “Good night,” I whisper.

  Chapter 10

  “Did you get it?” Lily springs to her feet when I enter the office.

  Regardless of how many times I tell her she doesn’t have to be the first one here, she ignores it explaining how she enjoys having the place ready when I walk in. She’s devoted.

  “Yes!” I’m ecstatic, barely able to contain myself. “Honestly, I don’t think I needed the meeting. When I asked him, he said I was one of his favorites to work with. He checked his calendar, sorted a few things out, and then penciled me in.”

  Lily claps her hands. “Fantastic. Did you warn him?”

  “Yes, and explained to full length why I’ve dubbed this the Pink Stink. He got a good laugh at the name.”

  “Hope he’s ready for them.”

  I hold up a finger. “Compared to one of his other couples he told me about, this one will be a breeze.”

  Her mouth rounds the word “wow” and I nod.

  I watch all the excitement slides off her face. “Well…speaking of. Cindy called earlier and left a message. She has a few changes.”

  My face wilts. “Changes? It’s too late in the game for changes. God.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Her wedding is in two weeks. What possibly needs to be changed? Damn, I hope it isn’t anything insane.”

  Thankfully, it isn’t. When I called, she asked for baby’s breath to be added to the center pieces—easy. Pink rose petals to be thrown during their kiss—easy. And waiters to wear pink ties matching their main color—doable.

  These changes I can handle.

  I’ve just hung up with the catering service, buried deeply within all my notes of the Hills’ wedding, when a knock pulls me
out from under them and into the mesmerizing eyes of Ryker. He’s handsome as hell leaning his shoulder on the door frame, his jean-clad legs crossed at the ankles.

  The sight of him makes me explode in giddiness, and my lips jerk. “Hey.”

  He steps in. “Have time for lunch?”

  I look to the papers scattered across my desk, like there’s really something here going to hold me back from spending some time with him. “With you?”

  He spreads his hands wide and shakes his head. “No. Some guy with greasy hair outside wanted to know if I’d come in and ask for him. He had flowers and all that jazz, but I told him it’d be best if he gave them to you himself. Act surprised.”

  I laugh.

  “I’ve got a perfect place I want to try. Can I pull you from your day?”

  I don’t have to think about it and am out the door within seconds of the question. He helps me into his lifted truck and then jumps into his side.

  “There’s a Greek restaurant just outside of town.” He eases into the street.

  “You’re after my heart. I love Greek.”

  The most alluring gaze falls on me. “Will the boss be upset if you’re a little late getting back?”

  Playfully, I roll my eyes. “I think I can handle her.”

  On the way, I tell him about the meeting with Chris, boasting about being his favorite. Although Ryker and I texted a bit when I got home, I never told him about the dinner. I was too busy smiling at my phone like an idiot at all the sweet things he sent.

  Manly and sweet. It’s like the best of both worlds.

  We follow the hostess to our table while she continuously looks past me to the man trailing in my footsteps. She almost trips and then stumbles into an empty table before giggling and straightening to avert her view in front of her.

  It isn’t going unnoticed how much attention he catches, and it irks the piss out of me.

  The hostess lingers at the table far too long before finally being forced off just as the waitress skips over and begins talking to Ryker as if he’s the only one at the table. It’s like he’s got a damn magical spell on every woman and it’s not settling well with me. I force the anger down, tapping my toe inside of my heels.