Undefeated (Undefeated Series Books 1-4)

by Charity Parkerson

  “God is watching,” she whispered.

  He jumped away from her with an overwhelming fury clouding his vision. He had long passed the point of seeing reason. The only thing he felt at that moment was the overwhelming urge to make her hurt the way that she was making him hurt. Pulling the utility knife from his belt, he started towards her. The shout of voices and the tugging of his body from restraining hands registered only dully in comparison with his hate. She was dead. She just didn’t know it yet.

  Paul made it exactly three days before deciding to e-mail Jack.

  Per your advice, I have decided to accept your offer of getting daily updates on the progress of my car repairs.

  Reading his words he thought, “Nah I sound like a prick.” Hitting delete, he erased his words and started over.

  Oh, how I have missed the sight of Rally yellow in my garage. It did so much to improve my mood daily. Especially the feel of the leather against my back, and the pedal beneath (my unbroken) foot as I broke the speed limit daily. Do you foresee any such days for me in the near future?

  -Paul

  Jack dragged herself through the front door, weariness and pain pulling her down. Falling face down on the couch, she absorbed the feeling of relief that being off her feet brought to her. Once she was sure she would live yet another day, she pulled her laptop over to her from its spot on the floor. Going straight to her e-mail account she spotted Paul’s right away.

  She felt a spurt of excitement as she read the subject line: “Speeding is bad.” She grunted out a laugh as she read his words. She could picture him saying it.

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she decided how to form her reply. She couldn’t very well tell him the truth. However, she did type the words so that she could see them in black and white.

  Sorry about your car, but my life is a fucked up mess and I haven’t had a chance to work on it yet.

  With a snort of derision, she hit "delete," then typed:

  I haven’t been able to do quite as much work as I would’ve hoped these past few days, since the dealership has been stalling with me. After several phone calls, I gave in and went up there myself. Once I flashed a little leg, I walked out with the parts needed to continue the repairs. Which I will be starting on tomorrow.

  Jack read the e-mail then added:

  I hope you are feeling better, and I have to agree with you about the Rally Yellow. I have some toenail polish in the same color

  -Jack

  Happy with the way it sounded, she hit "send" then let her eyes fall closed as her pain meds lulled her to sleep.

  Paul checked his e-mail one last time before heading off to bed and when he found her reply, he read through it quickly, then sat back with a smile. She might be a woman with a guy’s name, and a guy job, but she was still a woman. Only a woman could flash some leg to get her way, and he had no doubts that it would work miracles for her with her legs. The toenail polish comment told more about her than anything else had, and before he realized what he was doing, he was dashing off a reply:

  I was surprised by not only your choice of polish color but also by the fact that you would wear any. AND I have to know why it is only toe polish and not fingernail polish?

  -Paul

  Despite the fact that she felt horrible, Jack was determined to go back to work. She needed to get this car finished, and back to its owner, the smoking hot guy who was thinking about what color polish she should be wearing. This man was dangerous. He was this irresistible mixture of funny, strong, and sexy that had her looking for reasons to talk to him. She was looking forward to the time when she would be delivering this car to him in person. How was she supposed to resist this kind of man? He had it all. Above all else, she wanted this car out of here before she split. She should’ve left a long time ago. Pride had kept her here, and now it was time to admit that her pride was going to get her killed. Mannie hadn’t made bail, yet, but he would. When he did, she planned on being long gone. Dressed in clean coveralls, she circled the table a few times trying to debate her next move. Giving in to temptation, she snatched up her digital camera before she could change her mind.

  Straightening out his life was turning out to be a full time job, Paul thought ruefully, as he turned down another phone number from a very cute red head who’d had her oil changed at his shop. He watched as she made her exit with a visible swish of her hips, amazed by how unmoved he was. Alone again, he turned back to the computer, checking his e-mail once more, curiously desperate to see a certain name pop up in his inbox. When her name appeared, he read the subject line twice before laughing aloud, drawing strange looks from waiting customers. Dragging his mouse over, he clicked on the words “Jack’s got man hands,” opening the e-mail.

  Working on cars, although my passion, has wreaked havoc on my hands, making wearing polish on my fingernails impossible. However, one of the few girlie treats I give myself is an occasional pedicure. I’ve attached pictures in case you doubt my word on the matter.

  -Jack

  Paul opened the attachment, studying the pictures. The first picture was of her hands with a caption that read, “Notice the permanent grease stains.” The second one read “my only claim to femininity” with a picture of her feet freshly polished underneath. He leaned closer to the screen, trying to make out all the details, enjoying himself more than he had in a long time.

  Enclosed is a picture of my hands and feet only because I was curious to know if you were as oddly turned on by mine as I was by yours. Now notice the one foot is still in a cast but the other one looks like a man’s foot usually does, but my hands are REALLY beat up especially my left one.

  What is Jack short for?

  -Paul

  Her response came so quickly he wondered for a moment if she had been waiting for his e-mail. It only said, “Jack.”

  Now you have made it a challenge. Let’s see, is it Jackie? Jacinth? Jackal? Jacknapes? Jackass? Jackeen? Jaques? Let me know when I get warm.

  -Paul

  He watched his inbox, almost not wanting to blink in case she replied and he missed it by even a second. Five minutes passed and he started to think she wouldn’t respond when her reply came. It was only one word, “Jacquelyn.” He smiled with satisfaction at knowing what her real name was, but he still felt the need to tell her:

  Jack fits you better

  - Paul

  It started the same way it always had, with the phone calls. The first one was always the worst because it was the one that took her the most by surprise. She was making dinner when the phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “I’m sorry.” She had almost dropped the phone at the sound of his raspy voice. Fear caused the air to seize in her lungs choking off all words.

  “I’m so sorry, Jacquelyn. I’m taking a new class, and I swear this time things are gonna change. Give me one more chance, baby, and I’ll prove it.”

  Jack squeezed her eyes closed trying to will it not to be true, but his voice continued to sound in her ear, taking away all hope.

  I got a new cell phone today. This one has a touch screen. I’ve never had one this cool before. Oh, and I have internet access on it so I can snap a picture of your car, and send it to you via text message. Which I am going to do as soon as I get to work this morning. You’ll probably get the picture before you get a chance to read this e-mail.

  - Jack

  Next came the dreams. She had always been told that if you dreamed you were flying then you wanted to be free, but her dreams were of running. Sometimes on the beach with the smell of the ocean filling her senses; other times through the woods as she dodged trees and jumped over fallen brush. More recently, she ran in circles, around a huge, paved circle with the wind whipping through her hair. The sound of her feet pounding on the pavement blurred with the reality of the pounding on her door. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she curled into a ball.

  “Please, Jacquelyn, I said I was sorry.”

  Burying her face agai
nst her knees, she felt the hot seep of tears against them.

  “OPEN THE DOOR!” The door shook beneath his fury, and she cried harder.

  You could send me pictures of other things too. I’m thinking we should do knees and elbows this time. At this rate, I might eventually have you divested of all your clothes, a man can dream, right? lol

  - Paul

  CHAPTER THREE

  Every mile she put between herself and Louisiana eased the tightness in her chest. She had debated on whether she should tell Paul she was on her way or not. She had his address and thankfully, his home address was the same as his work, so she didn’t think he’d be hard to track down. The only thing she wasn’t sure of was her welcome. He had told her he would pay her to deliver the car, but they hadn’t talked about it since. As a matter of fact, they hadn’t talked much at all about the car. She hoped he wouldn’t be angry, but she wanted to surprise him and she had to leave.

  Luckily, she found the house without any difficulty. The GPS had been a big factor in that piece of luck, since normally she couldn’t find her way around the block. Following the paved drive, she circled around to the back of the house, coming to a stop in front of the garage. At the sound of the car, a figure stepped out from inside.

  The bruises had faded, leaving behind such masculine perfection that the sight of him made her pause briefly before she stepped out of the car. She had forgotten how powerful his presence was, even moving at an odd gait because of his walking boot. Only the twinkle in his eyes that said he knew what she’d been thinking saved her from completely embarrassing herself. A part of her wanted to throw her arms around him in greeting. The exchange of their e-mails had given her the feeling that she was seeing an old friend again, but another part of her felt shy and fluttery.

  “I brought your car back,” she told him, realizing the moment the words left her lips that they were unnecessary. He smiled brightly and she thought, He makes the whole world a happier place. She shook her head, trying to clear away her errant thoughts.

  “Did you enjoy the trip up?” he asked, sounding to all the world as if he planned on seeing her today all along.

  She found herself smiling back at him just as brightly. “I love your car. I had so much fun driving here, and the countryside is so beautiful that I think I might stay,” she answered, only half joking. “Sorry about not giving you any warning, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  He waved away her apology. “Have you ever been to Tennessee before?’

  “Nope, this is my first time,” she admitted.

  “Then we’ll have to make this trip a memorable one.” Throwing a companionable arm over her shoulders, he added, “Let’s go take a look at your handiwork.”

  Jack allowed Paul to steer her closer to the car while trying to ignore the delicious scent of his cologne as it teased her senses.

  Paul whistled, letting his arm drop from her shoulders as they approached the car. She watched as he ran a loving hand down its side. She burned to have those fingers brushing her skin. After a minute of looking things over from the inside out, he raised his head. Catching her gaze, he said, “Thank you. You did a wonderful job. I would swear it had never been wrecked if I hadn’t been the one to do it.” The sincerity in his voice made her chest swell with pride.

  She cleared her throat to speak past the lump that had inexplicably formed there. For some reason, his approval meant more to her than anyone else’s ever had. “I’m glad you think so.”

  He tilted his head to one side as if trying to decipher her strange tone. “I think I’ve missed you,” he surprised her by saying. Just like that, all the tension she had been feeling drained away and they were left smiling.

  “Do you want to take a ride or are you too tired from your trip?’

  “Can you drive in that thing?” she asked, nodding towards the boot.

  “Let’s find out,” he answered, smiling mischievously.

  It took several attempts before he ended up taking off his boot to drive. It hurt like a motherfucker, but it was worth it to be back behind the wheel. When he had stepped outside at the familiar sound of his car, he’d had a hard time deciding if he was more excited to see his baby or the woman who had been behind the wheel. Once they were on the road, he opened her up, laying down an inch of rubber and causing Jack to squeal with laughter.

  “Let’s find you a hotel room," he offered, “unless you want to stay with me. I have an extra bedroom.”

  She seemed to be considering his offer, but in the end her good sense must have won out because she said, “A hotel room please.”

  He chuckled but he obligingly found her a room. After checking her into a room nearby, he told her, “Now I have a promise to keep.”

  She looked at him questioningly but he didn’t elaborate. She must have decided to let him keep his secrets because she leaned her seat back as if settling in for a long ride. It only took about fifteen minutes to reach the nondescript brick building. She kept her questions to herself as he led her inside.

  Her look of confusion cleared at the sight of the training area.

  “Is this what I think it is?” At his nod, she tried looking everywhere at once, but he had a specific destination in mind. Heading towards the back of the club, he led her over to where Bryant was yelling out pointers to a pair that was sparring.

  Nodding that he had seen them, Bryant jumped down from his perch in the corner and met them halfway. Paul reached for Jack’s hand, linking their fingers. He pulled her closer to his side. “Dawlin, this is Bryant Smith. Bryant, this is my friend, Jack Swanson.”

  Bryant shook Jack’s hand, flashing her his most charming smile. “Oh, the bodyworks lady.”

  When Jack realized where Paul had taken her, her eyes immediately went in search of Bryant Smith. As soon as she spotted him, she felt a spurt of excitement all the way to her toes. When he shook her hand, she thought she would melt to the floor in a dead faint, but when she turned to share her excitement with Paul, she found herself looking at a stranger. It was Paul, but somehow it wasn’t. She was so stunned by the sight, she forgot what she was about to say. He was still smiling as brightly as ever, but it wasn’t real, and all the light had gone from his eyes, leaving them a flat gray instead of the shining almost silver she had become used to seeing. Reaching out, she squeezed his hand, capturing his full attention, and as if a light switch had been thrown, he was her Paul again. Bryant was staring at Paul as if transfixed. The truth slammed into her like a ton of bricks. They didn’t see the man that she did. Bryant shook his head, then looked at her a little more closely.

  “Come meet my wife,” he offered.

  “Are you leaving right away?” Paul asked as soon as they were back in the car.

  “I think I’ll stay a few days. I haven’t been on vacation for a while, so I think I’ll make the most of this trip. I might take in a few sights.” Find a place to live, she added silently.

  “Go to dinner with me tomorrow night.” After a moment, he added, “Please?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered coyly. “They have restaurants in Louisiana; I can eat at home”

  “Then come eat dinner at my house,” he cajoled.

  “Can you cook?”

  “I can make Huck-a-bucks,” he answered, nonplussed.

  She smiled. “I haven’t had frozen Kool-Aid since I was a kid.”

  “Fo sha that’s what we’ll be having then, dawlin.”

  She laughed at the outrageous suggestion, then found herself agreeing. “Sounds like fun. Since I’m going to be staying for a few days, I need to rent a car. If you would drop me off at a rental place, I’ll find my own way back to the room, and I’ll come back by around six tomorrow. Does that work for you?”

  “Six it is.”

  In the end, Paul decided to pick up take out, and Jack showed up promptly at six. All through the meal, the conversation never stilted and the food disappeared without either one of them noticing where it had gone. He was fascinat
ed by her. Her mind worked so much like a man’s that he found some of her opinions humorous. After setting their plates in the sink, he led her outside to the back porch where there was a swing hanging.

  Sitting side by side, they pushed with their feet in unison, setting the porch swing in motion. A pleasant creak from the chain was the only sound disturbing the peace of the night. A slight breeze stirred through Jack’s hair and she tilted her head back, closing her eyes. Paul watched the motion as he drank in her features. His eyes roamed her face while her attention was turned inward. She was beautiful with her classical lines. Her nose was straight but small, her eyebrows slashed out at the exact right angle, but her mouth kept him in thrall; it was perfect. Her bottom lip plumped out, begging him to taste it, and the temptation to do just that was killing him. Forcing his eyes away, he allowed his gaze to drop to her neck and the air seized in his lungs. A series of thin white scars stood out against her tanned skin there. Her eyes opened meeting his, and as if sensing his thoughts, she pulled at the collar of her shirt uncomfortably. Cutting him off before he could ask any questions, she asked, “Why are you still single?”