Tough Love: Back to Buckhorn

by Lori Foster

  Armie ran a hand over his head. “Yeah, I was due a change.” He bounced his gaze between them. “Everything okay?” He looked at Stack’s arm. “You’re slipping, man. Why’d you let him hit you?”

  Before Stack could warn Armie to shut it, it was already out there, and Vanity slowly pivoted to face him.

  Stalling, Stack said, “Those girls follow you home like stray puppies?”

  “Something like that.” He grinned. “I tried to shake them off, but they were determined.”

  “To invite you to an orgy?”

  Armie laughed. “Nah.” Grin sheepish, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Their friend is getting married, so they’re throwing her a bridal shower. I’ll be the entertainment.”

  Stack wanted to praise him for that outrageous announcement because it reclaimed Vanity’s attention.

  Eyes wide, she pivoted back to Armie. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah, apparently I’m going to offer lap dances, maybe strip or something. Not sure what all the plans are.” Shaking his head, he laughed again. “But whatever. Sounded fun.”

  “You’re nuts.” Stack knew Armie was up for just about anything, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. But that was over the top even for him.

  Armie glanced at Vanity. “You sticking around?”

  “I’m taking the self-defense class.”

  “Great, then let me borrow Stack a minute, ’kay? You can catch up with him when the class starts.”

  Not fooled, Vanity pointed at Stack. “You’ll explain later.” Then she headed down the hallway, taking advantage of the five minutes remaining before the class.

  Soon as she was out of hearing range, Stack said, “Big mouth.”

  “How was I to know it’s a secret? You’re standing there all purple and swollen, and it’s not like the girl is blind.” He frowned at Stack’s arm, grimacing for him. “Why are you dodging the truth, anyway?”

  Stack shook his head, unsure how to answer. “I just didn’t want her involved.”

  “Oh, really? You look plenty involved to me.”

  He shrugged. “Getting there. Maybe.” Stack didn’t even know what he wanted, so he sure as hell couldn’t be sure of Vanity’s intent. A fling? Convenience? Or more? “She has a way of plowing in full-steam ahead. It’s bad enough when it’s my family, but I don’t want her mixed up in this.”

  “Did you tell that to Leese?”

  “No, why would I?”

  Armie tipped his chin toward the room. “Because they’re friends—and he’s chatting her up right now.”

  * * *

  TRYING FOR THE tone of casual conversation, Vanity asked offhand, “So how did Stack hurt his arm?”

  Leese barely smiled while collecting his equipment and stuffing it into his gym bag. “Did you try asking Stack?”

  Okay, so Leese wasn’t fooled. “I have a feeling he won’t tell me.”

  “So you want me to be a snitch?”

  She lightly punched his arm. “You’re my wingman. You’re supposed to back me up.”

  He finished with the bag and straightened, looking down at her with his pale blue eyes. “Not this time. Case you’re unaware, Stack is staring daggers at us both.”

  She stiffened but didn’t turn to see. Lowering her voice, even though she knew he couldn’t hear, she asked, “Is he coming this way?”

  “Nope. Just staring.”

  Her shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad he has enough sense not to cause a scene.”

  “And why would he cause a scene about me?” Leese studied her. “What did you tell him after I left this morning?”

  Flapping a hand and struggling against the urge to glance guiltily at Stack, Vanity said, “We agreed that you were an honorable man. He knows there’s nothing between us.”

  Dryly, Leese laughed. “Let me clue you in about men. He might know we’re not involved, but he won’t like it all the same.”

  Her heart plummeted. “Does that mean you’re going to stop being my friend?”

  “Never that. Anytime you need me, I’ll be around.” He tugged at her braid. “But it does mean you might want to consider making Stack your wingman, at least whenever you can.”

  Probably very good advice. “Thank you.”

  As Leese walked away, he lifted a hand, letting her know he accepted her gratitude.

  Now Vanity turned to see Stack. He stood alone, his expression dark and contemplative. About what?

  With the class ready to start, she blew Stack a kiss and got in line. And though she did her best to listen as instructions were given, part of her mind stayed focused on Stack.

  She’d played an uncertain game to win him over. Did his possessiveness mean it was working—or would she drive him away by being herself?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AS STACK DIRECTED the class of women, he tried to ensure he didn’t pay more attention to Vanity than anyone else. She helped by not really looking at him, even the few times he spoke directly to her.

  Was she so focused on the defense class that she could relegate him to the back burner?

  He didn’t like that idea at all. Especially when thoughts of her stayed crowded into the front of his mind.

  Some of the women were younger, not really into the class. They were more about flirting. Stack easily looked past them, but Armie made up for it by flirting right back, teasing each and every one.

  Only Cherry, Denver’s fiancée, and Vanity were off-limits to Armie’s interest. Cherry stayed at Vanity’s side, and occasionally the two of them would whisper or laugh about something.

  Likely they were amused by the attention he and Armie got from the women who were supposed to be learning how to defend themselves from attackers.

  “I need a volunteer.” Armie glanced over the class, bypassed the raised hands, and said, “C’mon, Vee. You’ll do.”

  Stack swung around. What the hell was Armie doing?

  Vanity lifted her hand and Cherry gave her a high five. Without an ounce of hesitation, Vanity stepped up front.

  Feeling like an extra in a bad play, Stack stood there as Armie arranged her in front of him so they were both in profile to the rest of the ladies.

  “If someone jumps you,” Armie said, “it’s go time. You can’t be timid and you can’t be polite. So where are the best places to aim?”

  Vanity took a stance. “A woman my size against a man your size would do best aiming for the eyes, nose, or ears.” With each part she listed, she went through a practiced move.

  “Right. But if you’re going for my nose, then you use the heel of your hand, and you really bring it. A tap is just going to piss me off.”

  She grinned. “Can’t have that.” In slow motion she went through the strike again, this time with the heel of her hand aimed at the base of Armie’s nose.

  “Better.” He held up his palm. “Pretend that’s my nose. Go for it.”

  She struck, smacking Armie’s palm with precision, the sound of the impact loud and sharp.

  “Nice.” He stood over her, then clasped her forearms. “Now what?”

  She brought up her knee, fast and hard, stopping just shy of nutting Armie.

  He lurched, ducking his hips back, and she laughed.

  So did the rest of the ladies.

  “Brat.” Armie put her in a headlock, knuckled the top of her head, then turned her loose. She snickered as she smoothed her hair back into place.

  And Stack stood there behind them, taking it in, a little annoyed and absurdly proud of her.

  He turned her to face him. “You saw how Armie moved? Your groin strike would have missed. Whenever possible, you always want to aim for the body parts where you can do the most damage. Whether the guy is big or small, trained or a dolt, the eyes a
re always vulnerable.”

  Vanity nodded, then curled her small hands into claws. “Raking, scratching, gouging and poking.”

  Stack and Armie took turns engaging her in different examples for the class. She hung in there, showing that she knew the moves but wasn’t comfortable in actually implementing them.

  “We need to do some real drills,” Stack said to Armie, who agreed.

  “Next time,” Armie announced to the class, “what do you think about putting on protective gear and actually sparring?”

  Vanity’s elbow landed in Stack’s ribs, and she spoke to the class. “Oh, seriously, Armie. I’m sure no one here wants to get locked up close and personal with any of you guys.” Her eyebrows bobbed suggestively. “What do you say, ladies?”

  The women cheered.

  Armie covered his crotch and warned, “I’ll be wearing my cup, so don’t anyone get any ideas.”

  “Too late,” someone yelled, leading to more laughter and a lot of agreement.

  Stack’s pride expanded. Vanity was comfortable and confident in any situation.

  A few of the women had questions, so with the class over, he stepped to the side to answer. He tried to concentrate, but damn. He couldn’t keep his gaze off Vanity.

  Now that he’d slept with her, he looked at everything she did or said differently, more personally.

  Arms over her head, she stretched. Her workout clothes clung to her body in all the right places. She’d long since removed the over-shirt and now wore only the camisole-type sports top that pretty much squished her boobs. It wasn’t that different from what many of the other women wore. It covered her so that nothing showed through, but Vanity looked far better than most.

  Using a soft white towel, she patted her face, her upper chest, then lifted her braid to dry the back of her neck.

  The rest of the class finished up and wandered off, most bundling up and heading for the door. Denver and Cannon started putting supplies away. Leese rolled out the mop bucket. They had a cleaning crew come in once a week for a really thorough job, but in between that they took turns mopping the mats with a special sanitizer.

  Holding her hair off her neck with one hand, fanning her face with the other, Cherry came back over by Vanity. Yvette, who hadn’t taken the class but had worked out while at the rec center, also joined them.

  When Vanity caught Stack staring toward them, she smiled. “I really think you guys should let us use the locker room. I’m perspiring. Cherry’s perspiring.”

  Cherry went still, then looked down at herself and blushed. Sweat dampened the front of her tank top, especially between and beneath her big boobs.

  Denver scowled, giving Stack a shove. Which in turn knocked him into Armie. None of them spoke.

  Cannon took up the torch. “It’s only set up for men.”

  “We don’t need the urinals,” Vanity said. “Just the showers.”

  Yvette plucked at her top. “I really could—”

  Cannon put his hand over her mouth. “We don’t have a door on the locker room, and sure, we’d all know not to step in, but there are other people here, other guys, and—”

  Vanity said, “So put someone there to keep watch for us.”

  Stack opened his mouth, but at first nothing came out. He cleared his throat. “Sounds carry down there.” He gestured. “There not being a door and all.”

  Grinning, Armie said, “Meaning whoever keeps guard—”

  “Watch,” Vanity corrected.

  “—will hear every little detail. Like clothes dropping. And water running. Even slick, soapy hands—”

  This time, Stack shoved him without Denver’s help.

  “I’ll do it,” Cannon offered, and he sounded like he’d just thrown himself on the sacrificial altar.

  “Fuck that.” Denver took a step forward. “I don’t want you listening to Cherry shower.”

  Cherry’s face got hotter. “Denver!”

  Folding his arms, Cannon stared at him. “You think I’d let you listen to Yvette?”

  “Cannon!” Yvette joined the brigade of embarrassed women.

  Only Vanity remained unflustered. “Let Armie do it.”

  Mutually appalled, Stack, Denver and Cannon all stared at her.

  Going along, Armie nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, let me do it.”

  “Hell, no.”

  “In his dreams.”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  Armie laughed. “You guys know I won’t be thinking anything you wouldn’t be thinking.”

  “Maybe,” Denver said. “But we wouldn’t go blabbing it everywhere.”

  Crossing his heart dramatically, Armie swore, “It’ll be between me and my pillow.”

  Denver took a step toward him, but Vanity put herself in his way. “We’re showering. For the future, you might want to think about creating a space for women.”

  “Tried,” Cannon argued. “We’re out of room here. I wanted to expand, but the guy who owns the lot next to us doesn’t want to sell.”

  “Hmm...” Vanity got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well then, I suggest you find a desk to put down there and then, perhaps, we could plan this around when Harper is here doing the scheduling. She could be our lookout.”

  “I could call her—” Cannon tried to offer.

  But Stack noticed that Vanity already had both her arms wrapped around one of Armie’s.

  And damn him, Armie just let her, smiling in a way that just might lose him a few teeth.

  Leese looked at each of the men and started snickering.

  “They’re pathetic, right?” Armie said.

  “They’re something,” Leese agreed. “Not sure what.”

  “You two losers are just jealous,” Cannon accused.

  “Yeah,” Armie said, patting at Vanity’s arm. “So jealous.”

  Denver growled when Cherry cozied up to the other side of Armie, and even Yvette smiled as she followed along, all of them heading to the locker room.

  The men stared until the group was out of sight.

  “I’m going to have to punch him,” Denver said. “At least once.”

  “Get in line,” Cannon told him. Then he pointed at Leese. “Not a word out of you!”

  Trying to bite back his grin, Leese got started mopping.

  Damn, Stack wondered, did Vanity enjoy making him nuts? And unlike Cannon and Denver, he couldn’t protest as much as he wanted because, though he’d thrown out some signals, he and Vanity weren’t official.

  Fuck.

  The door chimed, and they all turned to see Merissa breezing in, her long dark hair blowing out behind her. She had a stack of yellow papers held securely in her arms.

  Cannon all but pounced on her. “Do me a favor, honey, will you?”

  Suspicious, she reared back to look at him, then at Stack and Denver. “What’s going on?”

  “The ladies insisted on a shower, and Armie, the ass, is down there playing watchdog.”

  “And listening,” Denver added, which got Leese snickering again.

  Hip cocked out, Merissa glared at the men. “So, what do you expect me to do?”

  With evil delight, Cannon said, “He’s watching the door, so I want you to watch him.”

  “Um...”

  “Tell him I sent you. Tell him he’s to stay put in case any guys wander down that way. He wouldn’t want you to deal with that any more than I do.”

  “So...”

  Hands on his sister’s shoulders, Cannon said, “But you can deal with him, right?”

  Looking very unsure, Merissa shrugged. “Sure.” Her gaze scanned each of them. “I only stopped by to drop off the new forms Harper wanted me to copy.”

  “Great. Thanks.” Canno
n took the stack of papers from her. “Since you’re here, why not stick around and keep Armie company so he won’t get an opportunity to eavesdrop on anyone?”

  Merissa looked toward the hallway that led to the lockers. She looked at her brother’s smiling face. She took in Stack and Denver’s expectant expressions. With a quick inhale and great determination, she hiked her purse strap higher on her shoulder and nodded. “Consider it done.” Her smile long gone, she marched away.

  Stack whistled. Talk about payback... He almost felt sorry for Armie.

  When Cannon turned back to them, Denver grinned. “That was mean.”

  Cannon clapped him on the shoulder. “I love Armie like a brother, you know that.”

  Cannon never hesitated to talk about love. He was the most comfortable guy Stack had ever known. And his ease with emotions put others at ease, as well.

  Stack and Denver nodded.

  Satisfied, Cannon told them both, “I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t for his own good.” And with that, Cannon headed toward the reception area with the papers.

  Scratching at his scruffy chin, Denver asked Stack, “What the hell was that about?”

  Stack shrugged. “No idea.” But as long as Armie wasn’t listening to Vanity while she showered, he wouldn’t spend too much time stewing on it.

  He had better things to think about—like getting Vanity alone again tonight. Getting her naked.

  Getting her under him.

  He hoped she showered quickly. He was so far off the deep end, he didn’t think he could wait much longer.

  * * *

  SMIRKING, ARMIE STOOD with arms folded, his shoulders against the outside wall on the other side of the locker room entrance. He could hear the women talking about their respective men.

  Funny shit.

  Only Vanity seemed unfazed, but then Stack was dragging his feet about stating the obvious. After tonight, he expected Stack would remedy that.

  The women—all of them as nice as nice girls could be—were pretty awesome. He was happy for his friends. Not that he wanted the same for himself. Hell no.

  Not in the cards. Not for someone like him.

  His future had been molded a long time ago, and rather than fight it, he’d just rolled with the punches. And the kicks.