“I come bearing gifts,” Shannon said, carrying a greasy bag through the door. “It’s fat-laden and will probably clog our arteries, stopping our hearts on contact, but it smells delicious and what a way to go.”
Genie laughed at Shannon’s antics. “Sounds like bliss. When you said we’d have lunch today, I half expected you to blow me off. And why is your eye black?”
Shannon paused in spreading out his bounty across her kitchen table to place a hand across his chest. “Ah how you wound me. What have I done to make you have such a low opinion of me? First you accuse me of being a man-whore, now you claim I can’t keep my word. Good grief woman.”
Genie blushed, feeling a bit ashamed of herself. It wasn’t like her to be so judgmental. “I think it’s because you remind me a little of my brother,” she told him honestly. “He is a man-whore.”
Shannon winced. “I’m not sure which is worse: being a whore, or reminding you of your brother—both are huge blows to my ego.”
“Oh please, we both know that you are very aware of your own stud-like manliness. I couldn’t dent your ego with a baseball bat.”
Shannon threw his head back in laughter. “Stud-like manliness,” he repeated then chuckled again. “Then I feel the need to point out that you are a strange mixture of independent and soft that is virtually irresistible to men. I couldn’t have blown you off even if it were in my nature.”
Genie sat down at the table without a word and bit into the greasy hamburger, trying to hide her reaction. His words were some of nicest things anyone had ever said to her, but it kind of hurt her heart. Weave didn’t feel that way. Apparently, he wasn’t inflicted with any such problem of walking away.
Shannon was openly watching her. “Don’t look like that,” he said softly. “There is a lot you don’t know about Weave. Do you know how I said I didn’t know whether to be right or do right?”
She nodded and he said. “Well, I decided I’m going to be right, and I don’t want to hear any of the Dr. Psycho-babble about being right or being happy, because I think that my being right is going to make someone happy in the end. But first I’m going to have to do wrong by my friend.”
Strange as it seemed, she thought she might be starting to understand him, which only went to show she was hanging around with him too much. Her silence must have been his cue to continue. “I’m going to tell you a story, but you have to swear that it will never leave this room.”
Genie could tell by his expression that he was serious, and though it seemed child-like, she held out her pinkie for him. “Pinkie swear,” she said as he linked fingers with her a second before settling back into his chair.
“I’m holding you to that,” he told her gravely. “You might as well get comfortable because this is kind of an involved story. I need to give you a little bit of background information for you to truly understand. You see, we grew up, Weave, Bob, and I, on the inside of the MMA fight circuit. My dad is Bryant Smith.”
Genie interrupted him. “Oh I know who that is; you do look just like him.”
“Anyways,” Shannon continued on as if there were no interruption. “Growing up, we all believed that one day we would be the next generation of the greatest MMA had to offer, and we started training as early as our parents would allow. We were good too, but none of us was as good as Weave. He knew what it took. He was the real deal. There is not a doubt in my mind that he would have one day rivaled my dad in greatness if everything didn’t fall apart the way that it did.”
“That’s huge.”
“That is huge,” he agreed. “The problem is that it’s a rough life. The highs are really high and lows are really low. One day you’ll be living large, and the next day you could be considered a joke. That’s why so many professional fighters end up abusing drugs, but my dad maintained an extensive drug testing program that we were subject to as soon as we started training in his gym.”
“Oh, he was a tricky, tricky man,” Genie told him. “He let y’all feel grown up while making sure you stayed clean, ha!”
“Yep. Parents are sneaky,” he agreed. “But once we were old enough to be a part of the party scene, Weave was already close to becoming the next big thing and every up and comer wanted a piece of him in order to make a name for themselves. He was hounded everywhere he went, but he got to be pretty good at exchanging insults and cooling tempers. None of us really noticed how heavily he was drinking in order to withstand the pressure, but it was pretty much twenty-four seven, and you couldn’t tell the difference anymore whether he was drunk or sober. One night we were in this little redneck dive, not unlike the one we were in six months ago, and this kid, who looked to be around eighteen, started talking shit. Weave blew him off time and time again, but this kid, he just wouldn’t let it go. When he couldn’t draw Weave into a fight, he just sort of blew up, and the whole bar ended up exploding into this huge brawl. I didn’t see the whole thing, but this kid ends up pulling a knife and attacking Bob, mistaking him for Weave. He stabbed Bob in the back and Weave just lost it. He threw himself on top of the guy and he beat the shit out of him. He was like a man possessed. Nobody could stop him, and the guy ended up dying a few days later, from internal injuries.”
Genie started to say something but Shannon wasn’t finished. “Came to find out it was a sixteen year old boy who used a fake I.D. to get in the door.”
Genie’s eyes fell closed at his words. “I take it Weave was drinking that night.”
“Heavily,” Shannon admitted. “But it was as if he took a vow of unhappiness or something the moment he found out. He never touched another drop of alcohol, which is a good thing, but he doesn’t allow himself anything. He walked away from fighting altogether, and, as far as I know, he hasn’t touched another woman either, not until you. You see, you are special, and Weave would hate me if he knew that I told you that story.” With a snort, he brushed his fingers across his blackened eye. “Well hate me more.”
The phone was ringing as Shannon came through the door, and he tossed his bag inside, making a run for it. He snatched it up. “Hello?”
“I wanted to make sure you made it home safely.”
He smiled at the sound of Genie’s voice. “Yeah, I just came through the door. My flight was delayed twice, and I was beginning to think I’d never make it home. Hold on a second,” dropping the phone to his side he stretched out across the couch, grumbling loudly as he went. Once settled, he pressed the phone back to his ear and Genie was chuckling. “Okay. I’m back.”
“What was that?”
“I had to lie down. I swear I feel like I’ve been sent through the wringer and back. I’m working here and there, plus I’ve taken over some of my dad’s workload since he’s semi-retired now. I’m exhausted,” he tacked on, trying to sound as pitiful as possible.
“You should take a few days off and do nothing. Kick back with your feet up and say ‘screw you’ to the rest of the world.”
She painted a tempting picture except for one detail. “Sounds lonely,” he admitted.
“I guess it does,” she agreed. “So come back to Texas and stay with me. We could lounge around all day eating junk food. Nobody would even know where to find you.”
He groaned again, this time in temptation. He could see it in his mind—no phone calls or paperwork just Genie and him sitting around in their pajamas, only that’s where the image changed. Instead of spending a few lazy days, together Shannon pictured Genie’s sexy legs wrapped around his hips, tangled sheets, and biting kisses. “Sounds wonderful,” he told her honestly.
CHAPTER THREE
Two weeks later, the day after Christmas- Murfreesboro, Tennessee
Smith Security Services turned out to be an easy building to find. It was located right next door to Smith Brothers Fight Club. It was a non-descript red brick building with only a small plaque beside the front door with the name of the company on it. When Genie pushed her way through the front door, she was met by a chunky older lady whose dark skin was touch
ed by a kiss of mocha. She smiled in welcome. “Can I help you?”
Genie looked around at the sparse waiting room and noticed there were several different offices. “I’m looking for Shannon Smith. Is he in today?”
“I’m sorry, but you just missed him. Is there someone else that could help you, or would you like to leave him a message?”
Genie shifted the wrapped present from underneath her arm, holding it out between her hands. “If I left this with you, could you make sure he got it?” She didn’t want to leave it, what she really wanted was to see Shannon, but she kept missing him everywhere she went. They spent four days together talking non-stop when he visited her in Abernathy, and now she was home for the holidays visiting her own family. She wanted to spend some more time with him before she left since she didn’t know when they’d get to see one another again.
She started to hand the present over, but Weave stepped out of one of the rooms behind the receptionist desk. “It’s fine, Mookie. I’ll make sure Shannon gets that, if that’s okay with you, Genie?”
She stood frozen to the floor at the sight of him. He was still just as beautiful as the first time she laid eyes on him, and it made her want to scream with frustration. She was such a stupid, stupid woman forever wanting what she could never have. She cleared her throat uncomfortably. “That’s fine,” she held the package out to him, but he didn’t take it.
“On second thought. He’s right next door. I could walk you over there, and you could give it to him in person.” He closed and locked the door that he’d just exited before handing the key to the receptionist. “Here you go Mookie. I’m going to head out so just forward any calls to my cell okay?”
“Okay, baby. I’ll see you on Monday, and you have a good weekend.”
Genie smiled at the older woman. “Thank you for your help.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie, and happy holidays.”
Weave held open the front door for her, and Genie slipped out underneath his arm, making sure not to brush against him as she went. They walked in silence to the next building over. Weave scanned his thumbprint at the door before opening that door for her as well, and she stepped beneath his arm once more. She expected the inside of one the world’s most famous fight clubs to be noisy and swarming with people, but it was fairly quiet with only about a dozen or so people training or working out. It seemed as if all activity came to a screeching halt at their entrance, although no one openly gawked. She stood just inside the door, looking the place over. The center of the room was caged in, and several punching bags hung from the ceiling in different areas of the room. A spongy material covered the floor, and she could see several other rooms off the main one that included weights and other sparring areas. A gorgeous woman with light brown hair and hauntingly beautiful gray eyes approached them. She was wearing a sports bra and workout shorts, and her hands and feet were wrapped in a way that let Genie know she was caught in the middle of sparring. She smiled warmly despite the interruption to her workout. “Hey, Weave. Who’s your friend?”
“Hey, Lily. This is Genie Cook. Genie, this is Lily Re’Vone,” they clasped hands briefly. “We were looking for Shannon. Is he around?”
“Sure. He’s in his dad’s office.”
“Do you mind taking Genie back there to see him?”
She nodded. “Sure. No problem.”
“Thanks,” he said flashing a quick grin, then, switching his attention back to Genie, he said. “I’m going to leave you in Lily’s capable hands,” lowering his voice for only her ears he added. “I just want to let you know that I do think about you all the time, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Genie smiled sadly. “Oh, sweetie. That makes it so much worse. Now not only was I easy to forget, you regret me too.”
Not giving him a chance to respond, she stepped over to where Lily stood and followed her through the building.
“So, you’re a friend of Shannon and Weave’s?”
The cattiness in Lily’s voice took her somewhat by surprise since it seemed so out of place with her smile.
“Yes,” Genie answered ambiguously then, shrugging out of her jacket, she gave Lily full sight of her gun and badge. Lily chuckled. “Touché, Ms. Cook.”
They rounded the corner, bringing a set of glass doors into view where Shannon sat behind a desk. His large frame seemed to dwarf the desk, and she instantly felt better at the sight of him. He glanced up when her shadow fell across his paperwork. He broke into a huge smile, jumping to his feet and rounding the table.
“Genie!” He pulled her into a bear hug, rocking from side to side, making her want to laugh aloud.
“You’re crushing your gift.”
He pulled back immediately. “Gift?” Looking down at the present she held, his smile turned even brighter.
“Merry Christmas, a day late,” she added.
He brought the present to his ear shaking it. “What did you get me?”
“It’s full of my undying love and affection,” she said sarcastically. “Open the damn thing.”
He stared down at the object in his hand before crowing with laughter. It was a realistic looking badge that had “T.F.P.” engraved across it for “The Fatty Police.” He swiped his eyes. “Where did you find this?”
“My Uncle Dan can forge anything, but don’t worry, that’s not your real present,” reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out an envelope. “Here you go.”
He broke the seal and pulled out the contents. “A ticket to this Sunday’s Titans game.”
“Mm-hmm. It’s their last home game of the season and I was hoping you would go with me while I’m still in town.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Don’t be so quick to agree. My brother is going too.”
“Oh the whore; I can’t wait.” She slugged him across the arm.
“She hits and she’s carrying a gun. She’s a keeper, son.”
Genie turned, blushing, as an older version of Shannon filled the doorway. He had laugh lines around his eyes, and his skin was a darker mocha instead of the golden tone of Shannon’s, but otherwise they looked identical. “Can’t, dad. She’s Weave’s woman.”
Bryant Smith’s eyes focused sharply on Genie, and she wanted to fall through the floor and kill Shannon all at the same time, but she remained still for his inspection. “If she’s Weave’s woman, then why is she hanging out with you?”
Shannon slung one arm over Genie’s shoulders. “Because she might be his woman, but she’s my best friend. Besides, I’m still hoping I can steal her away.”
She elbowed him hard in the ribs making him grunt, then she held out her hand for Bryant to shake. “Agent Genie Cook, and I am nobody’s woman. The best friend part is becoming more and more debatable by the moment.”
Bryant shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Agent Cook,” he told her before turning his gaze to his son. “Now get the hell out. I got work to do,” only his amused smile showed there was no real heat behind his words. “Besides,” he added. “You can’t very well steal her out from beneath him with your dad hanging around cramping your style.”
“Yes sir,” Shannon snapped, keeping his arm over her shoulders as he steered her out of the office and back through the club.
“Shannon, I want you to remember this experience when you meet my family.”
She thought she was easily forgotten, and now she thought he regretted her too. It was a hard pill for Weave to swallow, but he knew she spoke the truth—the hurt was in her eyes for him to see. Shannon and he formed an uneasy truce in the past two weeks but they were still mostly avoiding each other as much as possible.
He sat in his truck waiting for Genie to come back out of the club. When she reappeared, Shannon’s arm was slung over her shoulders and they were talking animatedly. With a quick hug, Genie waved goodbye and she and Shannon went their separate ways. Shannon went inside Smith Security while Genie headed for her car. As she pulled away, he pulled in behind her, following he
r to Harper’s Inn Hotel, taking note of the room she entered. He felt ridiculously like a stalker but he couldn’t ask anyone where she was staying. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but he couldn’t let her continue believing that she was unimportant to him.
He stepped out of his truck, making his way to the door, knowing with each step that he was making a huge mistake. He knocked lightly, unsure of whether or not he was hoping she would answer or be in the shower. He didn’t have long to wait. When she opened the door it looked as if she were debating the merits of slamming it in his face. He didn’t waste any time getting to the point since every second spent in her presence was like torture knowing he couldn’t have her. “There is not a man alive that could forget you or regret you,” he leaned down capturing her lips. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn't resist her. He kept his hands buried deep in his pockets, not touching her with any part of himself other than his mouth. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers, but he kept his eyes closed so she wouldn’t see him dying inside, bit by bit. “You should give Shannon a real chance. He’d always do right by you, and you would never have to be ashamed of him the way you would me.”
He opened his eyes, catching a flash of her tears before he turned away and headed back to his truck.
She snagged the back of his jacket before he made it five steps, pulling him to a stop. He really wanted to drive away, but he didn’t have it in him.
Genie tugged the back of his jacket until he gave in and froze in his tracks. She couldn’t let him get away without speaking her peace. Both of them were getting too good at running from one another, but Shannon tied her hands in some ways because she couldn’t say everything she wanted without breaking her promise; instead, she decided to find a way around him. “I would have never been ashamed of you. I would have stood proudly by your side. I think the real problem is that you were ashamed of me.”
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