Holding Strong

by Lori Foster

  “When the pain sank in, I dropped my guard. He caught me with a wild haymaker, then followed up with a jab that got me right on the chin. I went down and I swear, I thought that might’ve been it.”

  “I’m glad I wasn’t there,” she said, squeezing him tight.

  Usually a woman fussing would grate on his nerves. Not so with Cherry. He liked the shielding way she hugged him.

  While rubbing her back, he inhaled her scent. “Every fighter gets caught now and then. Stick around long enough and you will see it.”

  She sat up to meet his gaze. “I am sticking around.”

  “Yeah, you are.” He gave her a quick kiss.

  Appeased, she settled against him again. “So then what happened?”

  “He landed on me, going for some ground and pound. Instincts kicked in and I defended by rote, gutted it out, and finally my head cleared. When he thought he’d finished me, he got sloppy and I caught him with an arm bar. He tapped out.”

  “Miles said the audience went nuts.”

  “Yeah.” One by one, stars burst into the sky. It was a quiet night, only the distant whine of a siren and the occasional bark of a dog disturbing the peace. Such an illusion. They both knew trouble waited right around the corner.

  “That’s the night the SBC called?”

  He nodded. “Signed my first contract with them.”

  “And soon now you’ll be on the main card.”

  Something in the way she said that set off alarm bells in his head. “A couple of months from now.”

  “That is such an amazing thing.”

  It was, but he’d worked so long and hard that it had felt inevitable more than anything else. He curved a hand around her nape, kissing her forehead, the bridge of her nose, nudging her face up until he got to her mouth. “You’re amazing.” He tried to kiss her hotly enough to show her he meant it.

  But she pulled away. “I need to talk to you.”

  Groaning, he dropped back against the porch steps, arms and legs thrown out, eyes closed. “Somehow, I knew this was coming.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHERRY’S SMALL HAND smacked his chest. “You do not read my mind!”

  “No, but I understand you.” Still with his head back, his eyes closed, he blew out a breath. Damn, he really just wanted to take her to bed and hold her all night—then in the morning, assuming she’d be recovered enough, he’d finally have her again. “Let’s hear it.”

  Scrambling off his lap, Cherry sat beside his shoulder. “You can’t dictate to me.”

  “Never tried to.”

  Her knee gave a rude shove to his shoulder. “Baloney. You—”

  “Cut to the chase, honey, because I have things to tell you, too.” And the sooner they got to it, the sooner he could get her inside, in bed, and against him.

  Drawing her knees up and closing her arms around herself, she said, “Fine. I want to have sex with you. I want to be with you.”

  He cracked one eye open. “If only we could stop right there.”

  “But,” she said, not stopping, “there are some things I have to take care of on my own, and you’re just going to have to accept that.”

  “We’re talking about your foster brothers?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes. I know you want to help.”

  “Help?” She made it sound like he wanted to carry groceries for an old lady.

  Appealing to him, she added softly, “And I love how protective you are, I really do.”

  He clenched his molars. Was that all she loved? “Protective, huh?”

  “It’s part of who you are.”

  Did she think he got this involved with every woman he’d slept with? Soon he’d have to explain a few things to her.

  Once he figured them out himself.

  She forged on. “The thing is, I’ve thought about this all day.”

  He should have been with her. Never before had he resented his various training, but today his thoughts had stayed centered on her even as he went through his routines. He’d sweated his ass off doing cardio, then strength building. He’d sparred, working hits and kicks, different combos, and then concentrated on his ground game.

  And through it all, a part of his mind had been centered on seeing Cherry.

  “If you interfere, it will only make things worse.”

  If he interfered? What a joke, since already she’d interfered with his life in a big way. Heaving a frustrated sigh, he stared up at the moon. “A lot happened tonight.”

  Jerking around, expression stricken, she stared at him. “What?”

  “I think Stack and Vanity are...I dunno. In an arrangement.”

  The fear faded from her widened eyes and she repeated, “Stack and Vanity?”

  “Yeah, surprised me, too,” he said, though he knew that wasn’t what she’d meant. His change of topic threw her off, and maybe that was a good thing. It’d give him a moment to regroup. Plus, surprising her just might make her less guarded—then he could really make some headway in the trust department. “Stack is such a player and from what I’ve seen, Vanity hasn’t dated at all since moving here.”

  “You’re all players.” Diverted, she said, “I kept thinking you’d ask Vanity out.”

  “No.” Even when he’d been resisting Cherry, he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might hurt her. As she’d already pointed out, he knew how she felt about him—physically at least.

  Knowing he could have her had kept him awake many nights.

  Getting together with Vanity without Cherry knowing would have been difficult since they all hung together. It hadn’t seemed worth the trouble, and beyond that, it wouldn’t have been honorable.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “That she is.” But he’d already met Cherry by then, so no one else had appealed to him. He glanced her way. “So are you.”

  Cherry didn’t respond to that, choosing instead to keep speculating on Vanity’s social calendar. “It’s odd that she doesn’t get asked out. I think guys are intimidated by her. Nothing else makes sense.”

  “I hadn’t even considered that.” Maybe he’d clue Stack in, give him an excuse to jump the gun a little since the wedding was still a way off.

  “She’s nice.”

  Did he hear jealousy? He looked over at her. The porch light behind them made a halo of her fair hair. “Stack’s going to take her to the wedding.”

  Cherry relaxed enough to smile. “Do you realize we all talk about it as if it’s the only wedding to ever happen? It’s not Cannon and Yvette’s wedding. It’s the wedding. Like for royalty or something.”

  It amused him, too. “Yeah.”

  She leaned into him. “I assume we’ll go together?”

  He caught her wrist, pulled her hand over to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, then her palm. “Already looking forward to it.” Knowing she wouldn’t expect it, he kept hold of her hand as he told her, “Leese Phelps is in town.”

  He felt the flinch of fear as her fingers tightened on his. “What?”

  “Found him in Rowdy’s bar.” Hoping his casual attitude would calm her, he remained lounged back, relaxed. “He knows I go to the rec center, but it was closed by the time he got to town. It was just happenstance that we ran into each other at the bar.”

  “Wait.” She pulled away from him and shifted so he could better see her frown. “What were you doing at Rowdy’s?”

  Cute, how she looked so suspicious. If she knew how much he wanted her, how badly he’d wanted her all day, she wouldn’t give it another thought. “I wasn’t there looking for a hookup, so don’t get riled.”

  Typical for women, his reassurance only riled her more.

  With her so disgruntled, he sat up, too. He propped his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang between. “I finished up my workouts and training and wanted to talk to Stack before I came back here.”

  She chewed that over. “And Leese was there?”

  “Worked over pretty good.” Watching for her reaction
, he told her what he knew. “Carver and the others took him drinking, drugged him, beat a few answers out of him and then dropped him unconscious at his doorstep.”

  Anger shadowed her expression. “He’s okay?”

  Denver saw no surprise, leading him to believe she expected no less from the brothers. “Mostly he’s sorry. Asked me to tell you he never meant to hurt you.”

  In a faint voice, her thoughts already elsewhere, she whispered, “No, I’m sure he didn’t.” She drew in a single deep breath, as if bracing herself for the inevitable.

  He wanted her to know he’d keep her safe, and to do that, she had to level with him completely. “They drugged him, Cherry. Drugged him, questioned him about you, beat him up and discarded him.”

  “Yes.” She tried to hide it, but she was shaken, and somehow shamed.

  So she expected no better from them? She knew their violent tendencies extended well beyond punking out a young girl? And yet she wanted him to step aside and let her handle it alone?

  Like hell.

  For her benefit, so she’d know Leese’s remorse, Denver shared the conversation. “He said that once he realized how dangerous they could be, he wouldn’t have talked if he hadn’t been drugged, even with a beating. And I believe him.”

  He hadn’t much liked Leese when he first met him. But after talking with him more, seeing his remorse, his shame, he better understood him.

  Leese wasn’t succeeding in MMA as much as he’d like. He covered with more cocky confidence than actual talent and heart. Good training could change that, but not every fighter could afford it. Inviting him to the rec center might help remedy his situation.

  Denver felt indebted to him for coming forward and sharing what he could about Cherry’s foster brothers. He’d stepped up, and he wanted to do what he could to make amends.Denver had to respect that.

  “Soon as he woke up this morning, he came to find me, to let me know.”

  “He should have come to me.”

  Denver carefully tempered the surge of anger; she didn’t completely trust him yet, but he’d work on that. “Finding me was easier.”

  Leese had stared at him with blackened eyes and a swollen nose. “Thing is,” he’d said, “if I can find you, they can find her.”

  Denver wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Now he just needed to convince Cherry.

  Standing, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. After chasing him down and finally getting him, she now wanted to retreat, to cut him out. He wouldn’t let her. “Come on. I’m beat and you could use another good night’s sleep.”

  Her uncertain gaze lifted to his. “You’re leaving?”

  He retrieved his case, tugged her through the door, closed and locked it, then shook his head. “Tonight, I’m staying.”

  * * *

  CHERRY SAT AT the foot of her bed, listening as Denver brushed his teeth. He’d waited for her to go first, and while she’d been in there he’d folded down her bed.

  What a novel thing to have not just any guy, but this guy, staying the night with her. It didn’t escape her notice that Denver hadn’t exactly asked, either, had instead just informed her.

  He was protective, autocratic, capable, bossy, sexy, insistent and sweet, and she loved him. So, so much.

  She should protest his pushiness, but tonight...she just couldn’t.

  She’d never brought another man to this place, much less to sleep over. Since meeting Denver, there hadn’t been any other men for her.

  Did he stay because he suddenly cared for her, or because he worried for her safety?

  He seemed plenty into her right now, but she couldn’t forget that everything had changed at lightning speed.

  Not just her relationship with Denver, but...her entire life.

  Shivering, she accepted that eventually Carver and his brothers would find her. They’d already hurt Leese and they wouldn’t mind hurting others until they got what they wanted.

  If only she knew what that was.

  Despite Denver’s protests, she probably should have called Carver—but would it have made a difference? Even though she’d gone along with Denver’s insistence that she wait, in the end they’d get to her anyway. More than anyone else ever could, she understood the lengths Carver would go to once he’d set his mind to something. Petty, mean and vindictive; one way or another Carver always came out on top.

  If Denver knew the whole truth, what would he do?

  “Ready?”

  The sudden intrusion of his deep voice made her jump. Embarrassed, she put a hand to her heart while turning toward him, a nervous laugh bubbling up—until she saw him. Then she went mute.

  Denver stood there wearing only dark snug boxers.

  He’d probably showered at the rec center, but now his hair was wet at the temples, showing he’d splashed his face. As usual, he hadn’t bothered to shave. The scruffy stubble, longer hair and those amber eyes somehow made him even more handsome. With his gaze direct, he waited to see how she’d handle his aggressive intrusion into her life.

  Ha! She had his attention, and one way or another she wanted to enjoy as much of him as possible before it all fell apart.

  The extended visit from Miles and Brand had surprised her; they dropped by occasionally, but usually didn’t hang out, not without Cannon there also. But Rissy, who had known them all much longer, took it in stride, so she assumed it was no big deal. While there, they’d regaled her with stories of Denver’s ability. She’d already learned what she could about his fighting career, but the guys were always a fount of eclectic information.

  Denver’s style was that of a champion wrestler. Not only did he easily take opponents down—hard—but he had such good balance that other fighters couldn’t take him down. He blocked every shot with ease and usually turned the tables, with his opponent caught in a submission.

  Commentators called him unmovable like a mountain, impenetrable like a steel vault. His winning streak made him the talk of the MMA world, and a lot of people anticipated his next fight.

  What she hadn’t known was that he’d lose more weight as he neared the next competition, or that his body would get leaner, more shredded, stronger and faster. She couldn’t see how. He was already such a specimen, perfected in incredible ways.

  Body relaxed, limbs loose, he tipped his head. “What are you thinking?”

  So many things. “How breathtaking you are.”

  He snorted and started across the floor. Wavy brown hair skimmed his broad shoulders, a few shades lighter than the hair on his powerful chest, muscular forearms and strong calves. She especially loved the treasure trail leading from his navel into the waistband of his boxers.

  While she visually devoured him, he set his folded clothes and a small travel case on a chair, put his cell phone on the nightstand and walked over to stand in front of her.

  Wow. That left her eye-level with his lap. He was semierect now, and even that was impressive. Badly wanting to touch him, to stroke him through the soft cotton, she curled her fingers into the bedspread folded down at the end of her bed.

  She tried to blink but didn’t quite get there. “Are you hoping to distract me with sex?” It’d be a really awesome distraction, but she needed to assert herself first. She had to make him understand that she could deal with Carver. Ugly as it would be, she wanted Denver out of it.

  With one finger under her chin, he got her attention northward. “I usually sleep in the nude.”

  If he wanted an objection, he’d be disappointed. Already warm, turbulent need expanded inside her—typical whenever she got near Denver. “I’m okay with that.”

  The side of his mouth lifted. “I figured it’d be better just to strip down to my underwear.” He toyed with her ponytail. “I’d love it if you did, too.”

  Standing, she tugged her shirt off over her head and tossed it. She reached for the loose drawstring waistband of her pajama pants and Denver caught her wrists.

  “Just to sleep, girl.” He eye
d her taut nipples, and she saw he, too, breathed more deeply. “Tonight I only want to hold you.”

  That had to be a joke.

  Pulling her wrists free, she ran her hands up his chest and around his neck. His hands dropped to his sides.

  “I don’t want to wait.” Brushing her nose against his soft chest hair, she kissed his sternum, up to his shoulder, then nuzzled against his warm throat. He smelled like sunshine and warm skin and musky male. “I can’t wait.”

  “Cherry.” Clasping her waist, he kept his tone far too calm and insistent. “You’re just getting over that bug. You need rest.”

  She straight-armed him. “Listen up, Denver. You don’t just get to play with me.”

  Eyes heavy, sensual, he slid his hands down and around to her behind to draw her closer. Bending, he teased soft kisses over her temple to her ear. “You like it when I play.”

  Damn it, she did, but... “Not if you’re only going to frustrate me.”

  Propping his chin to the top of her head, he hugged her. “It’ll be better if we wait, I promise.”

  What if she waited and lost the opportunity? There was no guarantee that Carver’s bizarre torment wouldn’t eventually drive Denver away. She wanted to make memories with him, to soak up as much time with him as she could while the ugliness remained unconfirmed.

  “Cherry.” With one hand, he eased the band from her hair, then worked her curls loose with his fingers. “I have a full day tomorrow that starts early with conditioning.” Those clever fingers continued on down her spine until he palmed her backside.

  She rushed to say, “And I’m going into work tomorrow, too.” Tonight might be their best chance to be together until the following weekend.

  That is, if Carver didn’t show up and nix the entire relationship.

  Denver continued to tease his fingertips over her rear. The man did seem to have a fixation with her body.

  He dipped lower, delved deeper, explored her. “What time do you get off?”

  How could he talk while doing that? “Any minute now, if you’d just move those fingers where I need them most.”

  He grinned down at her. “Cherry,” he chastised playfully.