Tough Love

by Lori Foster

  “That’s not fair. In the waiting room there wasn’t any way to avoid him completely. But I did ignore him.”

  “And you listened in. On everything.” Meaning she’d just seen him at his worst.

  Hell, he had spat with Tabby. He felt ten again, needling his sixteen-year-old sister.

  “Should I have put my fingers in my ears?”

  Without thinking it through, he reacted to her joking with uncensored candor. “You should have stayed behind like I asked.”

  The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them. Tiredness dragged at him. The insurmountable issue of his sister married to a lying creep while infringing on his mother wormed through his brain.

  But he didn’t usually lie to himself—as he just had.

  Having Vanity along had been a balm against the rest of the night. She’d handled his sister, tended his mother, ignored fucking Phil, and all he’d done was bitch.

  The seat squeaked with Vanity’s movement. She retreated, straightening to look forward through the windshield, arms folded around herself.

  “Shit.” Drawing a breath, Stack reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. Again.”

  Without acknowledging his outstretched hand, she shook her head. Her long blond hair half hid her face from him, but by her voice alone he could imagine her dejected expression. “No need. I’m the one who needs to apologize.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  She ducked her face even more. “We had an agreement, and I keep overstepping it.”

  “Screw the agreement, okay?” He caught her forearm, then gently tugged until she loosened her grip and freed her arm, allowing him to slide his fingers down to lace with hers. He moved her hand to his thigh and kept it there. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Because I’ll watch the dogs?”

  Laughing, he squeezed her hand. “I’ll watch them, and, no, it has nothing to do with that. But thank you for offering.”

  “We’re going there first, right? To get them?”

  The groan struggled to be free, but he manfully repressed it. “Guess so.” If he didn’t, the two German Shepherds would feel abandoned. They were softhearted beasts, overly protective, and deserved better than his sister gave them.

  Not that she was bad to them. But she didn’t have enough time for two energetic dogs, and he wouldn’t trust Phil with a snake, much less a dog.

  “By the time we pick up food and get them settled, it’s going to be morning.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you going into the rec center?”

  Sensing questions she didn’t ask, Stack shrugged. “Sure. Havoc and Simon are coming in to work with us. I’m not going to miss that.” Cannon, his friend and the owner of the rec center, had recently made a big name for himself. Gage and Denver were fast becoming fan favorites, and Stack was right on their heels.

  But Havoc and Simon were legends in the world of MMA competition. It was a real honor to have them offer some advice, but to get to spar with them, yeah, he wasn’t missing that.

  Havoc had only recently talked Armie into signing on with the SBC, which was the most popular, recognized and best-paying venue for MMA fighters. Now he and Simon hung around more often. If the rec center got any busier, they’d have to expand.

  “You’re going to Denver’s next fight?”

  “Yeah.” He glanced at her. “You?”

  “Probably.”

  Did she want to go together? He wouldn’t mind that, except that he left early, and other than the after-party, he might not see her that much. “I’ll be in back with Denver before he comes out.”

  She smiled. “With Cannon and Armie, too. I know. It’s great how you guys support each other.”

  “We’re a team.” But that reminded him of something else. “Do you really check out the guys?”

  She fought off a laugh. “Stack. I’m not blind.”

  So she did. Damn.

  “Like you don’t eye all the women! I’ve been there when some very pretty ladies came in, and you sure didn’t hide your eyes.”

  Guilty. But then, a quick look never hurt anyone. “I don’t check them out with any interest.”

  Her rude snort nettled him.

  “It’s just habit.” Even he had to struggle not to laugh over that one. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You forget that I know you, Stack Hannigan. I’ve seen you holding court at Rowdy’s bar, sometimes with three different women at your table.”

  Shaking his head at her wording—he didn’t hold court—he pulled into an all-night grocery. “Okay, let’s focus on one thing, and only one thing.”

  “Sex?”

  Did she have to look so anxious when she said that? “Me wanting you. So much so that, since we struck our deal, I haven’t looked at other women, much less slept with them.”

  Finally she turned those big vivid-blue eyes on him. Surprise replaced every other emotion. “You’ve been celibate?”

  She said that with a lot of skepticism. “If it sounds unbelievable from your view, you should try it from mine. I can tell you, it sucks.” He brushed his thumb over her knuckles, then released her hand to park the car beneath a security lamp.

  “Celibate,” she breathed. “Wow.”

  He had to admit, it was pretty shocking to him, too. “I need this, Vanity. I need you. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  “That’s...well, an awesome admission.”

  “And the verdict?”

  “Was that ever in doubt?” she asked with a laugh. “This was my idea, remember? And now, after all the buildup, I think I need you more than you could ever need me. So many nights, I—” She hesitated, then bit her lip.

  Lust shot through his bloodstream. He shifted closer. “What?”

  Thick lashes lowered to hide her eyes. “I had to see to myself.”

  That visual sucked all the air out of him, leaving his chest tight and his heart thumping. “You have no idea how willing I would have been.”

  “Thank you.”

  Thank you?

  She shook off the shyness like an annoying fly, then met his gaze squarely. “But we do have an agreement.”

  “Had,” he corrected. “We had an agreement. D-day is now.”

  “Right. Now works for me. But the reasons for waiting were valid. Now they’re not. And now I need to get my fill of you.”

  Her fill? Did she think she could?

  Could she?

  He hoped not, because he knew one night wouldn’t cut it for him, especially now with all these interruptions.

  Damn it, he wasn’t in the habit of chasing women. He sure as shit didn’t play these games. He’d never had to. But no way in hell would he chance another disagreement with her.

  He hadn’t lied. His need was so consuming, he thought he might self-detonate if he didn’t get her under him.

  After a quick glimpse of the car’s clock, he said, “Let’s go. We’ll grab the food, grab the dogs, and hopefully that’ll be the end of the interruptions.”

  Twenty minutes later, when he got to his mother’s house, he knew the rest of his plans had just been shredded.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A DOZEN TIMES, Vanity checked the clock, counting the minutes until Stack would be back. Torture. How had things gone so haywire? At the onset, it had seemed like such a simple plan.

  The tap at her front door woke Maggie and Norwood with a start. The young mutts looked mostly German Shepherd, maybe with a little Collie thrown in. Sounding like the hounds of hell, they charged the front door. Vanity couldn’t hear herself over the ruckus, so it was no wonder the dogs didn’t hear her when she tried to calm them.

  Their wagging butts knocked her this way and that, but she finally managed to get leashes attached to their collars. Wrapping the leashes securely around her hand, she dared to open the door.

  Big mistake.

  The dogs shot out—and took her with them.

  Luckily it was Armie who’d knocked, and he caught her before
her face hit the porch.

  “Hey now.” He got her upright, then took the leashes from her. Though it was getting colder by the day, the November weather didn’t seem to bother Armie. He wore a loose flannel shirt over a T-shirt that read I’m Irresistible, and then in smaller print beneath, You’ve Been Warned.

  A recent shower had left his bleached hair spiky. Dark lashes cast long shadows over his chocolate-brown eyes.

  He was a good friend to everyone, so she shouldn’t have been surprised to see him.

  “You know them?” she asked Armie, seeing how the dogs were beside themselves with joy at a visitor.

  “Nope.” Laughing, he sat on the stoop. “But they’re obviously good judges of character.”

  The dogs were all over him, landing sloppy tongue kisses across his face, trying to wiggle into his lap, all in all being so funny that Vanity had to laugh, too.

  She stepped back inside to grab her coat, then sat beside Armie on the cold concrete step.

  It took a good five minutes for the dogs to start to quiet, and once they did, they wandered to the yard, going as far as the leashes allowed, then plopped down beneath the shifting rays of sunshine.

  “They had a rough night,” Vanity explained.

  “Yeah, Stack told me all about it.”

  Her face went hot. Just how much had Stack shared? Surely he wouldn’t—

  Shoulder-nudging her, Armie laughed. “Now, Vee, you know Stack doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  He was the only one to call her that ridiculous name. Around a yawn, she explained, “It was a crazy night.”

  “Sounds like. He said his mom’s house was trashed?”

  “The dogs had taken it apart. The garbage was chewed up everywhere. One curtain and some blinds pulled down from where they’d tried looking out the window, all the couch cushions kicked off, a few chairs overturned.” The house had looked like a disaster zone, but Stack, being the awesomely wonderful man he was, had been more concerned with the dogs than the mess. “They’d had two accidents.” She wrinkled her nose. “Luckily, on the tile and not the carpet.”

  “And you helped clean?”

  She scooted closer to steal some of Armie’s warmth. The afternoon was a lot warmer than the night had been, but winter was upon them. “Stack was already worried about his mom and stuff. Of course I helped.”

  He continued to look down at her. “And you insisted on keeping the dogs?”

  “Look at them! They were already confused over being left alone all day. They knew Lynn had been hurt, so they were scared for her. And then they saw Tabitha just long enough for her to freak out and start crying and stuff.”

  As if they understood, the dogs shifted their eyebrows, and their eyes looked all big and innocent.

  Armie laughed. “You’re a pushover.”

  Maybe. “I like them. They’re boisterous, but very sweet.” Half under her breath, she added, “As long as I don’t forget to take them out. Often.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Stack was worrying about you, so after I finished up my training, he asked me to swing by.”

  “Well, thank you, but we’re fine.”

  “We?”

  “The dogs and I.”

  Armie pushed to his feet, and that prompted the dogs to leap up, too. “Come on, beasts. Let’s go check out the backyard.”

  Feeling more sluggish than she wanted to admit, Vanity started to stand. Before she’d even gotten her tush half an inch off the step, Armie caught her arm and hauled her upright.

  Once they were all inside, he bent to look into her face, then huffed in annoyance. “You’re about to fall on your face. Have you slept at all since before the wedding?”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted—even though complete and utter lethargy tried to drag her down. Given half a chance, she could crash for a solid eight hours.

  Right at sunrise Stack had left her with a short but stirring kiss, admonishing her to “regain your energy” before he returned. Knowing that as soon as his obligations ended, he’d be back, more than ready to live up to the promise of that kiss, she’d done her best to nap. But each and every time she’d started to doze off, the dogs wanted or needed something. They were more demanding than toddlers, and just as cute.

  “Why don’t you go to bed?” Armie watched her with critical concern. “I’ll look after the dogs for a while.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Armie surely had better things to do than babysit dogs he didn’t know. “I can handle things.”

  Cocking a brow, Armie grinned at her. “Know what I think?”

  “No doubt something nasty and sexual that I shouldn’t hear.”

  He laughed. “I think you’re trying to keep up with fighters who are in prime condition. A lost effort, hon. Go, crash. You’ve earned it.”

  That last comment made her wonder. “Earned it how?”

  “Stack told me about the car wreck, his mom, his sis and fucking Phil.”

  Rolling her eyes over that continued awful nickname for Stack’s brother-in-law, she copped an attitude-ridden pose. “So, is Stack crashing?”

  Armie repeated, “Prime-condition fighter.” He knuckled her chin. “There’s no comparison.”

  “Okay, yes, I’m tired.” Why not admit it? “But I’m not a wimp, so I’m not going to shirk my duty.”

  “Caring for his sis’s dogs is now your duty?”

  “I offered, so, yes.” And whenever she offered, she took it seriously.

  Armie was about to say more when another knock sounded on the door. They both looked, Armie frowned, then almost got jerked off his feet when the dogs went manic all over again.

  Vanity stepped around them and opened the door.

  Leese, Brand and Miles stood there.

  “Wow,” she said, eyeing each of them in turn. “Was there a casting call for certified studs that I somehow missed?”

  The men all grinned at her.

  Ducking his face, Leese ran a hand over his unruly black hair. Sunshine reflected off the inky depths and also highlighted a few dark bruises that contrasted with the paleness of his striking blue eyes.

  Vanity knew him better than most of the others; as she’d told Stack, Leese was her wingman, aiding and abetting when she needed to dodge interested men.

  Brand elbowed Miles, asking in a stage whisper, “Is she saying we’re studs?”

  Rubbing his ribs and scowling, Miles said, “If she is, I’ll add it to my résumé. Endorsed by Vanity Baker. That has to carry some clout, right?”

  “Studs,” she repeated. “And also insane.” Unlike Leese and Armie, who were light heavyweights, Miles and Brand were thicker heavyweights, each with dark brown hair. The difference, at least to Vanity, was in their eyes. Miles had vivid green eyes, and Brand’s were the darkest she’d ever seen.

  Because she liked all of them, she held the door open. “Come on in.”

  As they entered, they saw Armie holding back the dogs.

  There was a moment of surprise before Armie said, “What are you guys doing here?” and the guys said almost in unison, “We thought she was alone.”

  Scowling, Armie turned the dogs loose, and the guys got slathered in wet doggy tongues and unrestrained love.

  Laughing, Vanity separated herself from the chaos, going to the couch to sit with a deep sigh. It felt good to be off her feet, but now a steady throbbing started in her temples.

  Around the raucous noise, she asked, “Did Stack send you guys, too?”

  Studying her with concern, Leese came to stand over her. “I came to check on you.” Two fingers beneath her chin lifted her face, then turned it side to side. “Mutt and Jeff just decided to trail along.”

  Miles settled the matter of jumping dogs by lifting Norwood into his arms. The dog looked momentarily shocked, then joyous as he rolled to his back to be cradled like a baby.

  Laughing, Miles strode over and took a seat beside her. “We’re all heading to Brand’s to watch the game.”

  “Game?”

/>   They gave her appalled stares. “Football,” Armie finally explained.

  Copying Miles, Brand lifted Maggie and joined them. “Bengals are playing the Steelers.”

  “So?”

  Again they all stared at her.

  Vanity shook her head and, around a yawn, muttered, “Never mind. I don’t even care.”

  Leese crossed his arms. “You need to get some sleep.”

  “Exactly what I was telling her.” Now that Armie didn’t have to hold on to the dogs, he sat down and propped up his feet on the coffee table.

  Brand shoved him. “Idiot. She decorates. You can’t do that here.”

  Muffling a laugh, Vanity said, “It’s okay.” Yes, she had some decorative items on her coffee table, but she wanted visitors to be comfortable.

  Too late, because Armie had already removed them and was now sitting straighter. To the men, he said, “Stack wanted me to look over her backyard, make sure the dogs couldn’t get out. She needs some shut-eye before he gets here.”

  They all grinned, and ribald comments circulated the room.

  “She won’t get any after he’s here, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh, she’ll get some, all right.”

  “Rested women are better than the comatose kind any day.”

  Feeling like an official member of the pack, Vanity smiled at each of them. Being Yvette’s best friend, she’d already been accepted by them. But now, because they knew she and Stack had hooked up, they’d decided she was part of the inner circle.

  And damned if that didn’t get her teary-eyed, a sure sign of her true exhaustion.

  For the longest time she’d wanted a family. A real family who was there for you when you needed it, who dropped in unexpectedly, who teased and supported and...included.

  Here, in Warfield, Ohio, well away from her beloved California beaches, it felt like home.

  When she sniffled, the men froze into awkward, helpless lumps of muscle. They watched her as if expecting her to crack, or maybe sob. Wariness kept them wide-eyed and poised to act.

  She laughed around her tears. “You guys are pretty terrific, you know that, right?”