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Battlescars

Page 17

by Ann Collins


  In fact, it was more money than either Dyson or Kayla had seen in their entire life. They could have blown so much of it, but they had made the decision early on that they would take only a very small amount and spend it on themselves. The rest they would save. They hadn’t yet talked about what they would save it for, but Dyson had caught Kayla looking at a wedding magazine at one point. As for himself, he had wandered into the baby aisle at the department store and started getting ideas. Though he hadn’t brought it up to Kayla, he knew that the direction his mind and heart were heading was a good one. He just hoped that she would agree when the time came to ask those very important questions and make the life-changing decisions that he knew were on the horizon.

  But in the meantime, they did take that little bit of money – a few thousand dollars – and splurged. The sheets on their bed were Egyptian cotton and had a ridiculously high thread count. The television in the living room was huge, bigger than they needed, but perfect for watching his fights in high definition. Besides, Kayla had found it on clearance. The woman had a knack for saving money, even on things that were extravagant.

  She also had a great knack for numbers, and rather than hire someone to handle the money that was rolling in, he turned to her. She had chosen sound investments for the cash, and they had formed a budget that would be easy for both of them to keep. He was completely confident in her abilities, to a point where he asked her to join the attorneys when they negotiated sponsorship contracts. It was a gorgeous sight, to see his woman sitting at the table next to him, putting her steadfast accountant face on and checking every bit of financial information before she gave the okay. He watched her during those moments and was grateful for her financial protection.

  Not only was she taking good care of him, she was also taking care of his mother. Her willingness to embrace everything concerning his mom surprised him, but the more he thought about it, maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised after all. If it had been Kayla’s mother in the residential home, she would have done all those same things. She was simply showing love and affection on a woman who was as close to her mother as she could ever get.

  He knew that Kayla had very carefully negotiated the new contract for his mother’s stay, and she had made sure that the investments took into account that his mother might live a very long time yet. Kayla was steering them in the right financial direction, and she had often said to him that he would never have to worry about his mother’s well being, as long as they didn’t do anything stupid with the bank accounts.

  With Kayla at the helm, he couldn’t imagine doing anything like that. Dyson was deeply satisfied with the track their life together was on, and he looked forward to the day that they’d finally take the next step together.

  Though they slept in his bed each night together, they still hadn’t gone any further physically than kissing and snuggling. The restraint wasn’t easy for Dyson, and he had resorted to taking out his sexual frustration on the speed bag at the gym. He’d told Kayla that the pace was up to her, and he figured that if investing a few weeks or months in making her feel completely safe and secure was what he had to do, then do it he would.

  ***

  Kayla finished putting away the dishes from dinner and turned to see Dyson standing there, staring at her. “Hey,” she said softly, then walked into his open arms. He held her close, burying his face in her hair, and thought about all the things that had brought them together, and all the things the future held.

  Suddenly Kayla moved back and looked up at him with alarm. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

  “Not going in today, darling. The gym is closed for some big event.”

  Kayla broke into a smile. “I’m glad you chose to volunteer with the self-defense classes, but I have to admit, I miss you when you’re gone.”

  Dyson laughed and squeezed her even tighter. He had Kayla in mind when he and Chester set up a self-defense class for kids. It was the right thing to do, to give back to the community that had supported his journey to MMA for so long, but it was also something that he felt a deep need to do. He liked the idea of teaching kids to protect themselves from anyone who might want to hurt them or their loved ones. He often wondered how life might have been different if Kayla had known how to fight back. If she had been able to land a few good ones on her old man, would he have left her and her mother alone? If she had been able to fight him off a few times, would he have decided it wasn’t worth the effort and then put his negative energy toward something else?

  He would never know. But he did know that what he was doing might make a difference for one of the kids in his class, and he liked to think of paying it forward every time he taught a child something new. He hoped that not a single one of them had to deal with what Kayla had seen, but if they did, at least they would have the tools to fight back to the best of their ability.

  He also liked to think that he was giving the kids something even more important than the ability to defend themselves. He talked to them about the things in life that mattered, about how to treat people, about honor and respect and honesty. He talked to them about these things in the hopes that if they ever grew up and put on a uniform, if they ever went into a foreign land and dealt with those who lived by a lesser code of honor, they would know when to stand up for themselves. Dyson knew that not everyone went through what he did, but he also knew that it wasn’t an isolated incident. If he could make an impression on one child, and when that child grew up and had to make some tough calls, Dyson would be very happy to know that kid did the right thing.

  Dyson had been surprised at how quickly the class had filled up, and he was thinking about launching one for women, too. He wondered if Kayla would take the class, if she would let him teach her all the tricks and tools for handling herself in any situation. Though she would never have to do that – he would always be there to take care of her – it would give him great peace of mind to know that she could whip somebody if they decided to take her on. Besides that, it would give her an a confidence that could help her with the struggle to overcome the demons that still haunted her from time to time.

  He decided that he would talk to her about it after this course was over. Who knew, maybe she could even help him with it somehow. Maybe she could talk to people about her story as a way to inspire them and show them just how important learning these things could be. Maybe it would be therapy for her, and help others at the same time…

  Dyson was completely lost in his thoughts when she tugged on his ear to get his attention. “Helllloooo,” she called.

  “Sorry, honey…what were you saying?”

  She put her hands on her hips. “I was saying that you’re awfully distracted. What’s going through that gorgeous head of yours?”

  Dyson smiled. “I was thinking about the past and the future. Especially the future, with you.”

  “Yeah? And what do you see in your crystal ball?”

  “You,” he murmured, kissing her. “Only you.”

  Dyson was just beginning to lose himself in the kiss when a bark came from the bedroom. Dyson jumped. He still wasn’t used to the sound of pattering feet around the house, and he certainly wasn’t accustomed to the sudden noises that animals would make when they were simply in the mood to hear themselves talk. Both Dyson and Kayla turned to look at Mr. Marbles, who walked into the room and looked up them, wagging his tail.

  Within a week after moving in, Kayla had complained that things were too quiet. They needed something to keep them busy, she said. They needed someone to take care of, someone who depended upon them, someone who would wait for them to come home.

  “My mother?” Dyson asked cautiously. He loved his mother, but he knew that she was happy where she was.

  “Of course not, silly,” Kayla laughed, but then grew serious. “Unless you want to?”

  “Mom wants to stay where she is.”

  “Okay…but I’m sure there are animals in the shelter who want to be anywhere but there…”

&
nbsp; Dyson laughed. He knew at that moment that they would have at least one furry friend, maybe two or three, by the end of the week. And sure enough, they had gone back to the shelter and when they came home, Mr. Marbles and Leon had come with them.

  Though they were technically the resident pets of the shelter, the administrator had been happy to let them go to a real home. Kayla was the obvious choice, as both Mr. Marbles and Leon had loved her for a long time, and now they adored Dyson as well.

  Mr. Marbles had settled into his new life within an hour of walking through the door. He had sniffed at every corner, made himself comfortable on his new bed and found the water and food, then proceeded to eat every bit of it. An hour after that he was snoring in a shaft of sunlight that came through the high windows of the living room. It was as though he had always belonged there.

  Leon was a different story. Though he really adored Kayla and Dyson, new places were definitely not his cup of tea. He had sulked around corners until he found a hiding place, which happened to be sandwiched into the smallest space possible, right behind the toilet. How he managed to get his big body in there was a perplexing question, because the space seemed too small for even a kitten. But Leon had made that his spot for two days before he finally got hungry enough to venture out to the food bowls. He growled all the way there but had finally given in to the coaxing from Kayla, and when he was done eating he sat on her lap, glaring at the world around him.

  Leon was still not himself, but he was coming around. Dyson knew that he would eventually settle into happiness and security, just as Kayla had. Leon had been hurt and neglected, but he would never go through that again – and eventually, even that hardheaded cat would come to believe in goodness.

  Dyson had come to believe in a lot of things. He believed his mother was truly happy. He believed the things that happened in Iraq somehow happened for a reason, even if he didn’t yet know what it was. He believed that he could take his career all the way to the top and stay there for a good long while, especially if he had a wonderful woman backing him up.

  And he believed that he and Kayla would always be just fine.

  Dyson kissed Kayla on the forehead and rubbed Mr. Marbles’ ears. “We’ve got a good life here, baby,” he said. “We’re going to have a great future together.”

  Kayla looked up at him with those shining eyes. “I believe you.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kayla had decided it was time.

  Dyson had been the perfect gentleman for months. He had gone above and beyond in his campaign to convince her of his sincerity. In fact, if she hadn’t already seen him as honorable, she would have at this point, considering that he had done his best to keep them chaste. Even when he was dying to go further – even when she knew that his control was barely hanging by a thread and his body was about to betray him – he somehow managed to pull a superhuman move and stop what he was doing before he crossed the point of no return.

  But that didn’t mean that they didn’t enjoy themselves. Kayla had reminded him that being honorable didn’t have to mean being a monk, and he had readily accepted her challenge to do everything but the one thing she really wanted to do. They had spent time playing around in every way imaginable, and Kayla had learned a trick or two that took his breath away. She had also learned what it felt like to give herself over to someone and not worry that she wouldn’t like what he did. Their creativity over the last few months had served its purpose, but it had also given Kayla a taste of what it would be like when they finally did go all the way. If they could be this creative when they were playing around, how creative could they get when they actually did it?

  Though she wasn’t a virgin, she certainly felt like one now. She felt like a woman who had never before had a man, one who was approaching a special night with such a sense of anticipation that sometimes it was tough to breathe. She often wondered if he felt the same way. She would catch his glance from time to time, one that was simmering with need and desire, and she would feel sexier than ever, knowing that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  She also knew that what Dyson had done, as frustrating as it had been, was actually good for her. How would she have reacted it they had taken things too fast and she had dealt with bad memories? What if those memories had invaded their intimate moments, and they had forever been scarred by the past tainting the present? She knew that she needed the time to become comfortable with sex, and Dyson had instinctively known that. He had given her the opportunity to grow into the desire, instead of being overwhelmed by it. She would be forever grateful for that.

  But now Kayla was tired of waiting.

  She knew that Dyson was waiting for her to make the first move, to tell him with utter certainty that it was time to drop the gentlemanly act and become the man she really wanted him to be – the man who would sweep her off her feet, ravish her body and leave her begging for more, then give it, over and over again, until she was satisfied. He had been so careful with her, making certain that the first move would definitely be hers. She was grateful for his care, but now she wanted something else. Something much more.

  The idea of asking for it – demanding it – gave her pause.

  In order to make it clear what she wanted, that she really wanted it this time, she was going to have to be aggressive with him. And if there was anything that made her nervous about sex, it was being the aggressor. Her experiences with sex in the past had been negative at the worst and passive at best, and though she knew that sex could be amazing, she had never experienced that side of things. In a way, perhaps she was a virgin – she hadn’t been in a situation where sex mattered or meant something more than just the act itself.

  With Dyson? It meant everything.

  So she was a very nervous young woman who waited for him to come home from the gym on that Friday evening. She had made one of his favorite dinners – herb roasted chicken with potatoes and carrots. She had chilled a bottle of white wine – a California Chardonnay that the guy at the wine shop had told her would pair beautifully with the chicken. Kayla had even made dessert, her mother’s old recipe for Dutch apple pie. She had lit a few candles and set them on the center of their brand-new kitchen table. Then she had waited, pacing the floor while the candles burned and the sun set outside the big windows. Mr. Marbles and Leon had paced with her, curious about her sudden nervousness and even more curious about the good smells from the oven.

  When she saw his car pull into the garage, she bustled to the oven to pull out the chicken. What she saw made her smile: it was done to perfection, browned just right. She had used the nicer roasting pan, the one that could go from oven to table and still look good, and so she slid the entire meal right onto the trivet next to the candles. She stood back and looked at the table, an immaculate set-up, and realized that he would understand that she’d gone to more trouble than usual to prepare a special dinner and set a romantic mood.

  Once Kayla had made up her mind, she’d decided to go all out.

  The moment the door opened, Kayla’s heart began to pound. She went to the door and threw her arms around Dyson, then gave him a long kiss before he even had a chance to put his keys on the hook. He responded immediately, pulling her body right up against his and kissing her slowly, his tongue sweeping gently into her mouth. He tasted every corner of her, and then sighed against her lips. “Somebody got into the wine,” he teased.

  “You can taste it?”

  “It tastes almost as sweet as you do,” he whispered, and went in for another kiss. This time Kayla ran her hands through his hair and pulled him close. She let him do what he wanted, but when he pulled away to take a breath, she stopped him. With the tip of her tongue, she traced the outline of his lips and then sucked his full bottom lip into her mouth. She took her time, and when she finally let him go the sigh that came from him made it clear that he wanted more.

  “I’m hungry,” she murmured.

  “Hungry for what?” he asked, grinding against her.

/>   “That. And chicken.”

  “Is that the deliciousness I smell?”

  “We had better eat before Leon decides to get on the table and investigate.”

  The chicken had cooled a bit while they indulged in their kisses. Dyson sat down and carved the chicken while Kayla poured the wine. Dyson filled their plates, first hers and then his, and then eyed the candles. He looked at Kayla, suddenly wary. “Please don’t tell me that this is a special day I somehow forgot…”

  She looked at him coolly. “How could you?”

  For a moment he looked as though she had slapped him, but then he laughed. “You pretty little liar. You’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

  “I already accomplished that,” she said, looking pointedly at his crotch.

  Dyson had the grace to blush. “Seriously, honey…what’s the occasion?”

  “Can’t I just have a romantic dinner with my man?”

  He reached over and took her hand, then kissed the back of it while his eyes stayed pinned to hers. “I adore you, and you can have as many romantic dinners as you like,” he answered.

  She gave him a dazzling smile. “Good. Now eat.”

  They were not disappointed. The chicken was done to perfection, fragrant with sage and rosemary and thyme, seasoned with a touch of lime and honey. Dyson took the first bite and closed his eyes, groaning in satisfaction as he slowly chewed. “You are the best damn cook ever,” he declared, going for a second bite before he was done with the first. “Did your mother teach you to cook like this?”

  Kayla shrugged as she chewed a bit of carrot. “She taught me a bit, but I think it runs in the family. Maybe it’s in the genes. I know that my grandmother was a great cook, and she won awards at the county fairs, anywhere she entered the contests.”

  Dyson nodded. “I am not surprised at all. You should enter contests. Seriously, honey, this is delicious.”

 

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