“Yes,” Joe answered.
“Thank you so much for volunteering to be in the calendar. It’s for such a good cause. So how long have you been dating?” Melanie asked.
“Uh, we aren’t—”
“Since we met on the calendar shoot.” Joe cut Taylor off and she coughed while chewing a piece of chicken. He thumped her on the back. “Good thing I’m trained in saving people, right, honey?”
Everyone chuckled, and Taylor drank more champagne. “You okay, dear?” he asked with a warning expression that indicated he’d explain later. Considering his earlier rejection when they’d started to be intimate, he’d better. He’d pay for this stunt later. Taylor touched her throat. “Thanks, honey.”
“So sweet,” Melanie said, grabbing Dean’s hand.
“Yep.” Joe grabbed Taylor’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I treat her like a princess.”
“So sweet,” Melanie gushed again.
“That he is.” Taylor removed her hand, picked up her knife, and shoved it into the roast beef before she found another target.
The foursome began to eat, limiting conversation to safer topics like Cardinals baseball. Then Melanie and Dean finished and stood to leave. “It was so nice meeting you,” Melanie said.
Taylor turned on Joe the moment the couple was out of earshot. “Why did you do that?”
“What?” Joe asked.
“Tell them we were dating?”
“Because it seemed easier than answering all their ensuing questions, and I’ve already been approached like three times. I wanted a shield.”
“But we’re not dating.”
“So? Sometimes the path of least resistance is the easiest one. If they think I’m with you, no one will play matchmaker.”
“For someone who swears he never lies, you let them believe something that wasn’t true. For someone who helps, I can’t believe you did that.”
“I said I’d never lie to you and I haven’t. It was harmless. We can be broken up by the time we leave tonight. Virginia and her family are do-gooders out to help the world, as this shindig clearly shows. If we weren’t already dating, I’m sure they’d be figuring out some other way to get us to date, or the matchmakers are going to have me hitched by the time I reach my car. So I beat them to the punch.”
She shook her head. “But now they’re working under false impressions.”
“Sometimes playing along is the best response in my line of work. If you’re in a car accident or a fire, you want your first responder to give you hope, even if there is none. You always tell people it’s going to be fine, that you’ll take care of them. And you do, no matter what.”
“Okay,” Taylor said slowly, contemplating the situations he’d been in. “That makes sense.”
“I try to be honest to a core, so it’s a hard thing to rationalize. Sometimes it doesn’t even make sense. I just didn’t want to be bothered tonight answering a lot of questions, and I certainly don’t want to be seen as single and eligible.”
“Why did you tell your sister about our kiss?”
He didn’t deny it. “Because she’s a bulldog with endless questions. Doing so was probably a mistake.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You seem to be making a lot of those lately.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” He fingered the champagne flute stem. “Speaking of being completely honest, I should tell you that I’m not good with relationships. They’re not my strong suit. Not even close.” He lifted the glass to his lips. Drained it. “We’ve clearly got some physical chemistry, but I don’t want to be ruled by my desires. I did that once with terrible results.”
She wondered what he meant, but he didn’t elaborate, just kept speaking with firm conviction.
“I can’t make those types of mistakes ever again, and with you, I’m tempted. Far too much.”
The admission came at a high cost, she knew. His sense of morality was his biggest strength, but also his biggest flaw.
“So what do we do? Because I’m attracted to you too,” she said, choosing to be honest. After all, to work together they did have to sort through this. Find resolution.
“I don’t know.” Another honest answer.
“Maybe we should spend time together. We have to anyway,” she suggested. “After all, we’re dating now,” she added, trying to make a joke.
Before Joe could respond, Virginia approached their table.
“Look at you two lovebirds. Melanie told me you were out here. See, Taylor, I told you so. I’m always right.”
Taylor resisted the urge to slide beneath the table. Joe should have considered Virginia’s daughter would spread the news. “Joe, Chief Winchester tells me you’re boxing in the tournament this Saturday.”
Joe nodded. “Yes.”
Taylor hadn’t known Joe’s chief was there, although she’d learned tonight that to Virginia a small dinner party meant over sixty people. She’d met maybe a third of the guests.
“So, you’ll be there as well, right, Taylor?” Virginia asked.
“Uh.” She looked helplessly at Joe.
“Of course she has to be there,” Virginia insisted. “What type of a girlfriend would she be if she wasn’t there supporting you?”
What was that about telling a fib? That it just kept growing and growing? “I thought the tickets were all sold out.”
Virginia waved a hand. “That’s no problem. I have plenty of extra. I’m on the Backstoppers board of directors.”
Of course she was. Virginia seemed to be in charge of everything.
“This is an important matchup. If Joe wins, he’ll compete in the annual Guns ’N Hoses the night before Thanksgiving. You know that’s one of the biggest fundraisers for the Backstoppers.”
Taylor realized she’d forgotten to Google it. She’d meant to after he’d told her that night at Dressel’s, but then she’d promptly gotten busy with the calendar photos.
“I don’t want to distract him.” And the idea of watching men hit each other, even with boxing gloves, simply didn’t sound appealing. She just hadn’t wanted to tell him that night.
Virginia didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. “You can go with me and Ted. We’d love to have you as our guest. We’ll keep you sequestered away until after Joe’s match.”
“Then it’s settled,” Joe said, giving Taylor a grin that once again proved he was firmly in control even though she felt like she was spiraling. “Although, I do have to work at seven the next morning.”
“We’ll take it easy that night,” Taylor told him. He gave her another wicked smile.
“Besides, honey, maybe boxing could be a good subject for your project.” An eyebrow arched, daring her.
A project for which she still didn’t have approval. “Oh, aren’t the two of you cute,” Virginia gushed. “Taylor, call me tomorrow so we can make a plan. You met Melanie and Dean, so perhaps you’d love to join us for dinner beforehand as well.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. The hiccups threatened. “I …”
“She’d love to,” Joe replied, sending her a sharp glance. “Wouldn’t you, dear?”
She was going to kill him later. Positively kill him. “Um, okay.”
“Perfect. I love it when a plan comes together. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Virginia beamed as she moved away.
Taylor sat back against the chair with a thump. “What did you think you were doing?”
“Getting you into Virginia’s good graces. She’s obviously looking for a protégée and you’re it.”
“Well, I doubt you saw that coming when you said we were dating.”
“Chalk up another mistake on my part,” Joe said. “But if it helps you, I’ll play along.”
Taylor shook her head. “I don’t even like boxing.”
“Have you ever been to a boxing match?”
She shook her head and he frowned.
“You had no idea what Guns ’N Hoses was.”
“Still don’t,” she admitted.
“You for
got to Google.”
“Guilty. I’ve seen Rocky. Well, parts of it anyway.”
“It’s honestly a lot different. So you’re judging something you’ve never even experienced. Bit stereotypical, wouldn’t you say?”
“I don’t even know why you’d do it. Is it the testosterone? The thrill?”
“I’m a champ. It’s primal. It’s for charity. It helps me stay in shape, and that helps me rescue people.”
A roving waiter came by offering more champagne. Taylor took at glass. Her hand shook slightly.
“You should be flattered,” Joe told her. “Virginia has taken a huge interest in you. She’ll launch you big time if you let her. You do want that, don’t you?”
“Yes. I think so.” She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. He’d turned her inside out. Her feelings changed rapid-fire when he was around.
“Well, it’s all networking. You don’t get here”—he gestured at the professionally manicured landscaping—“without knowing the right people. Bring your camera. Have some fun with it. Maybe your professor will finally cut you a break. When do you meet with him?”
“Soon. He took a brief trip. Will your family be there?”
“At Guns ’N Hoses, yes. Susie and Parker go as well as mom and dad and a few cousins. This match is in a smaller venue. They probably won’t come to this, and I wouldn’t expect them to with all the stuff they have going. Guns ’N Hoses is at the Scottrade Center. It’s a big deal. For me, this is just practice.”
She knew that the venue that hosted professional hockey and concerts seated a little over nineteen thousand people. “Wow. I didn’t know boxing was that big in St. Louis.”
“Boxing and mixed martial arts. Fifteen three-round bouts.”
She swallowed more bubbly. “What have you gotten me into?”
“Me? May I remind you that you kissed me first? You put your hands in my hair and brought my head down and—”
“Yes,” she interrupted quickly. The picture was still vivid, and she still really liked his hair. “But tonight you told people we were dating.”
He grinned. Turned on the persuasion. “I guess that makes us even. I’m sure you’ll survive one event. And if you hate boxing, then I’ll concede the point, say you’re right and I was wrong.”
“The chance of hearing you say you were wrong makes it worth my while,” she admitted.
He chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll love it.”
“Doubtful, but I’m in for a penny now and I’ll give it a fair shake. And I’ll bring my camera.”
“See, I knew you couldn’t resist the Marino charm.” That wicked grin widened. The man was pure temptation.
She arched an eyebrow. “Charm … really? That’s what it is?”
Those blue-gray-greens twinkled. “Of course.”
“I’m not sure that’s what just happened, but I’ll let you believe otherwise. It’s easier that way.”
He raised his empty glass to her. “Touché.”
Taylor couldn’t help but smile. Bantering and verbally sparring with Joe was invigorating, and oddly a great time.
She could help him, she realized, like she helped the mothers who’d lost their children. Her father’s words had been a part of her philosophy for years—she was to help everyone she could, and as long as she tried, as long as she’d done her best, it would be enough.
In Joe’s case, she understood now why he couldn’t let himself have her, why he held himself in such close check any time they were together. The photos would be therapy. Not pity, for Joe wouldn’t suffer any of that, but instead a way for him to see himself as beautiful, to let the real Joe—the deep one that hid behind the Marino charm—to let the real Joe out once and for all. She could at least give him that gift. Her father would have wanted it that way.
Chapter Nine
The boxing match that was one of the precursors to the November Backstoppers event occurred at the Chaifetz Arena, located on the St. Louis University campus. The venue could hold over ten thousand, and almost all the seats were full.
“I had no idea boxing was such a big deal,” Taylor marveled as she entered the arena with the Barkers. The venue hummed with a vibrant, tangible energy.
“A championship fight can earn over one hundred million just in Pay-Per-View revenue,” Ted told her. “Floyd Mayweather made one hundred five million one year.”
“Wow,” Taylor said. “I never would have guessed. People really pay to watch the matches?”
“Yes. It’s like buying an On Demand movie.” Ted began to pass out wristbands. “We have a suite, but we can also be down on the floor. That’s what these are for.” They all snapped on the red plastic wristbands.
“Thanks so much for adding me,” Marci said, her eyes wide with excitement. “You sure I can’t pay you for the ticket?”
“Of course not. The more the merrier, dear,” Virginia said. “Shall we head to the suite?” She, her daughter, and her son-in-law led the way.
“I can’t believe this,” Marci whispered to Taylor as a personal attendant greeted them when they entered the suite. “Look at this.”
“I am.” Taylor’s own eyes widened. Televisions hanging on cream-colored walls kept them apprised of the action down on the floor. Comfortable stuffed armchairs surrounded small tables, and the buffet table held an array of everything from chicken wings to popcorn. “Is the beer free?”
Taylor laughed. “It’s all inclusive. As I’m driving, have at it.”
“I think I will.” Marci made a beeline for the bar.
Taylor sat in one of the chairs and picked up the program. Joe was one of the earlier bouts, and thanks to Virginia, she had a full-access pass to take photos. She lifted her camera out of the bag, made some adjustments, and took a few test shots. Aside from the Barker clan, there were ten other people in the suite. She recognized a few of them from the dinner party.
Marci came back with a clear plastic cup emblazoned with the Bud Light logo. “Do you know how much these regularly cost? These people must be loaded.”
Taylor didn’t confirm or deny. “I want to take some pictures. Come with?”
“No, I’ll hang out here for a bit. I’ll text you if I’m bored.”
Taylor nodded, slipped on her laminated pass, and made sure her wristband was secure. The boxers were staging in the various locker rooms, which was where she saw Joe. He wore below-the-knee, synthetic satin shorts with a wide, white waistband emblazoned with a Maltese cross that matched the one on his wrist, and custom above-the-ankle shoes and red and white socks that reached the hem of his bright red shorts. Currently he was shirtless.
Still unseen, she took his picture. He appeared lost in his own world, a Joe she hadn’t seen before. He laced his black boxing boots, unlaced them, and laced them again. He’d pulled his hair back into a ponytail. He’d shaved—no evening shadow here.
“Hey, you can’t—” She held up the plastic pass and the person fell quiet, went back to whatever he had been doing. She brought the viewfinder to her eye, peered through. It always amazed her how the camera allowed her to see things the naked eye couldn’t. Like the way the harsh fluorescent lights brought out the lighter brown highlights infused in his black hair. His brow creased, his eyebrows knit together. She could almost see the wheels turn inside his head, as if working his way through the logistics of the upcoming bout. She adjusted the exposure to blur the background, filled the frame, and pressed the shutter, freezing Joe for eternity—or at least until she hit delete.
Joe hadn’t seen her yet, and as his trainer approached, she used the opportunity to take more photos. He smiled, which lit up his entire face. There was something in that honest, real smile, something in the way his lips moved, that drew her. Created a pang inside her. Told her that she was in over her head.
She was already creating fantasies. Imagined his lips on hers again. Wondered what a real relationship would be like. Pretty typical female behavior, wasn’t it? Didn’t all women size up a guy to his po
tential? Taylor certainly wasn’t looking for Mr. Right Now. Her camera clicked as she took more shots.
A cheer went up from a group of men watching a TV monitor. They must have liked the outcome of the bout, and she shot their jubilant reactions. Joe’s head came around, and his gaze found her. His eyes widened, and he stood. Came over. “Hi.”
“Hey.” The camera strap rested next to the photo-pass lanyard. She let the camera dangle. “Virginia got me all-access. Thought I’d make use of it.”
“Can I see the photos?”
“I don’t want to distract you or interrupt your routine.”
He took the camera off her neck, and the strap tickled. “You won’t. I’m not that superstitious aside from my lucky socks.” He pointed to a pair of red socks that looked rather ordinary. “Show me. It’ll give me a break. The waiting is the hardest part. If you think about things too long, you can psych yourself out.”
He began flipping through the images. “There’s a lot of me.”
The words rushed out. “I find you fascinating.”
“Which is probably more frightening than the guy I’m about to face,” Joe admitted. “I’ve beaten him twice. I’ll get him the third time tonight. No worries. I’m in even better shape now than I was last year. Where will you be afterwards?”
She named the suite. “Okay, I’ll shower and come up when I’m done. You going down on the floor?”
“I’m not really sure I want to be close enough to watch sweat fly.”
“Makes for some good shots.” He draped the camera back over her neck and lifted her loose hair so the strap went against her neck. He twisted a curl before letting a strand bounce. “I’m up next.”
“I should probably get back to the suite.”
He pointed. “You’ve got the band. Go ringside.”
She hesitated. “I don’t want to distract you.”
“You already do that.”
A thrill mixed with worry. “Then I shouldn’t—”
He put his fingers on her arm. The touch reassured. Soothed. “Once I’m in the ring, everything else fades to background noise. So don’t worry. You won’t destroy my concentration. You can do that after I win.”
Burning for You Page 12