Clinched_A Single Dad Romance

by Nikki Ash

“This is where our classes are held. We have classes for all ages including little kids.” I snap a few pictures. Tristan moves to a small octagon shaped area and steps in. “I was thinking we could practice some moves in here. As you can feel”—he bounces on the balls of his feet—“the floors are soft so you can’t get hurt.” I’m suddenly nervous. I haven’t had a chance to speak to my therapist about this yet, but I’m almost positive she’d tell me this is a good idea. For one, I’ll feel prepared if I’m ever in a situation where a man tries to hurt or overpower me, and two, I’ll feel stronger and more confident knowing I can at least attempt to defend myself.

  “Okay.” I set the camera down on the floor, then empty my pockets, placing my keys, cash, and cell phone on the floor before removing my flip-flops. When I turn to Tristan, he’s doing the same. Today he’s in a pair of basketball shorts, a UFC shirt, and his usual white hat. Tristan makes casual look downright sexy.

  We meet in the middle of the fighting ring, and since I’m not sure what to do, I stand in place and wait for Tristan’s guidance. He closes the gap between us and slowly places his hand on my shoulder. With only about six inches between us, I can smell the faint scent of his cologne and for some reason it comforts me. He gives me a soft smile. “Breathe, Charlie.”

  I release the breath I had no idea I was holding and he chuckles softly. “There you go. Just breathe. We’ll start off slow and work our way to more difficult positions.”

  I nod in agreement, waiting for his instruction. “The first move I’m going to show you is an open hand strike.” He takes my hand in his, and with his other hand he rubs his fingers along the heel of my hand down to my wrist.

  “This move is a good one because you don’t need any training. With the heel of your hand all you need to do is strike upward, downward, or to the side. The best areas are to the neck or jawline.” With his hand still holding mine, he runs his fingers along my arm until he gets to my elbow.

  “Keep your hand open and firm.” I tighten my hand, keeping it open as he brings my arm around, softly hitting the side of his neck. “Right here.” He locks eyes with me. “When you hit this area hard, it will hurt whoever is attacking you enough that you will have a chance to run.” We go over the motion I should use a few times before Tristan releases my arm and hand.

  “Okay, now you try. I’m going to approach you and I want you to hit me right where I showed you.” He steps back and then walks toward me. When he gets close to me, I bring my hand up, wincing as it connects with his neck, and he chuckles. “Charlie, you need to pretend like I’m the enemy. I want you to try to hurt me. Nothing you do to me will kill me.” I think about what he says. If Justin was standing in front of me, I would have connected a lot harder, but Tristan isn’t somebody I want to hurt.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I whisper, hating violence. Tears spring from my eyes and Tristan closes the space between us.

  “Hey, hey, you aren’t going to hurt me. But sweetheart, how can you feel prepared if you don’t practice?”

  “I know,” I say sniffling. “But I don’t like violence. Like at all.”

  “It’s just you and me.” Tristan bends slightly, so we’re eye level. “I hope you never have to use any of these moves but I think you’ll feel a lot better once you have them to use if need be. You may not like violence but you can’t stop other people from being violent. All you can do is be prepared.”

  He’s right. I have to accept the world can be a violent, shitty place. Justin is proof of that. And if I can be prepared, maybe I can stop it from happening in the future. Maybe if I was prepared before and fought back, Justin would’ve stopped. I’m done being weak. I said I was ready to take my life back, ready to move forward, and in order to do that I need to be strong.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I say with renewed confidence.

  Tristan smiles. “All right.”

  He comes toward me again, and this time I bring my hand up and strike the side of his neck with more force. He stumbles to the side and I immediately feel bad.

  “Oh my god! Did I hurt you?” I reach for his face but when I look at him, he’s grinning, that one stubborn dimple peeking out slightly.

  “That was awesome!” Tristan beams with pride.

  We spend the next hour or so going over different moves: a kick to the groin in case I’m grabbed from the front and a bear hug and a 360 defense in case I’m being attacked from behind. Tristan is a patient instructor the entire time, telling me with every new move how good I’m doing, and showing me each move however many times I need him to.

  “Okay, the last move I’m going to show you is if you’re attacked while on the ground. Go ahead and lay down in the middle of the mat.” I walk to the center and lay down on my back, my knees slightly bent. Tristan walks over to me and positions himself above me, his legs caging me in. He bends down slightly, his hands on either side of my shoulders. There’s nothing sexual in what he’s doing, yet I can feel my legs tightening and my pussy throbbing in need of something more. Tristan situates himself and then locks eyes with me. He licks his lips, about to speak—probably to give me direction—and I have no idea what the heck comes over me, but all of a sudden I’m grabbing him by his shirt, pulling him the rest of the way down toward me, and kissing him with everything I have.

  Tristan

  I’m leaning over Charlie, praying my dick doesn’t get hard in this position, when her hand comes up and fists my shirt, pulling me down. For a second, I’m frozen in place thinking maybe she’s trying out a move on me. Only I realize all too quickly, she’s actually making a move on me! The woman under me is kissing me and I’m just sitting here like a damn idiot, doing nothing. Her lips are warm and soft, and a beat later mine are curving around hers, my tongue seeking entrance, hers granting access. Our tongues dance around one another and fuck if she doesn’t taste sweet. Her hips come up and grind my erection as she lets out a soft moan.

  Our kiss deepens, my hands moving to her hair, needing to grip something on her, but I stop short, afraid she’ll cower at my touch. Instead, I let her lead as I follow. And let’s be real…I’d follow Charlie any fucking where she goes. Her hand lets go of my shirt and both hands come up to my head, her fingers running through my short hair.

  “Look Uncle Mason! Daddy is loving on Charlie.” The sound of my daughter’s voice is like a bucket of ice water being poured right over my dick. I can feel it visibly shrinking. Charlie’s eyes shoot open and she pushes on my chest. I fall to the side of her and she’s standing up before I can even get up.

  “Looks like Daddy is doing some fishing of his own.” Mason laughs and I let out a groan.

  “Ewww! No, he’s not! Charlie, do you like fishing? It’s super gross and the fish are smelly and slimy.” She scrunches her nose up and walks toward Charlie waiting for an answer.

  “Nope, Lexi, I most definitely don’t like fishing.” Her voice is breathless and the knowledge that kissing me did that to her has me wanting to beat on my chest like a goddamn caveman.

  “Good!” Lexi nods her head in approval. “But Charlie, why were you loving on my daddy?” Charlie’s head swings to mine, her eyes pleading for me to help her.

  “Umm…well…” Charlie stumbles on her words and I almost want to stand back and wait to hear what she says, but I don’t. Instead, I come to the rescue. “I was teaching Charlie some fighting moves and she was thanking me.” Okay, that probably wasn’t the best explanation but cut me some slack here. I’m improvising.

  Mason cracks up laughing. “Really? Charlie, I don’t know if you know this, but I’m the real fighter in this room. I can show you moves for days. Tristan here just owns the place…I’m the expert.” He smiles wide and I shoot him the finger behind Lexi’s back. Fucker! I look over to Charlie, and luckily she’s silently laughing.

  “I thought you were watching Lexi…at home,” I say, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, but you also said you would be home by seven. I have a date tonight and it�
�s almost eight.” Holy shit, I had no idea we were at this for so long.

  “Damn, sorry about that. Go ahead and take off. Thanks for watching her.”

  “No worries. See ya, Lexi girl,” Mason calls out. Before he leaves, he adds, “See ya, Charlie. No more fishing tonight you two.” He gives Charlie a wink and she giggles, shaking her head.

  “Ugh! I love Uncle Mason, but I really hate fishing,” Lexi huffs.

  “Did Uncle Mason feed you dinner?” Lexi darts her eyes to the side, which tells me he gave her junk food and she doesn’t want to snitch on him. “I’m going to go use the bathroom and shut the gym down. Then we can go grab a bite to eat. Meet me up in the front.”

  As I reach the doorway, Charlie yells, “No!” I turn around and she’s walking towards me. “Take Lexi with you, please.”

  I give her a look of confusion. “I’ll only be a minute. Just walk up to the front with her and I’ll meet you both by the front door.”

  Lexi is already running out the door toward the front and Charlie’s eyes dart toward her. “Okay,” she says, her voice shaky as she follows Lexi out of the room. It takes me a second, but I realize this isn’t the first time she has tried to stop me from leaving Lexi with her. I didn’t think much of it before but now it definitely has me thinking.

  Fifteen

  Charlie

  “Scotch on the rocks, a dirty martini, and a White Russian.” Veronica recites the drinks she needs and I go about making them. It’s Thursday night at Plush, and usually the club is crazy-busy but tonight it’s practically dead. Tyler said it’s because most people are attending Halloween parties. The club’s party is Saturday night and we’ll most likely be slammed. I hand Veronica the three drinks and she sighs.

  “What?” I look up and she’s staring at the drinks.

  “I asked for a scotch on the rocks, a dirty martini, and a White Russian. You gave me a scotch without the rocks, a Lemon Drop, and a beer.”

  Huh? I look over at the drinks. Shit! She’s right. “What’s going on with you? You never mess up on orders, and we aren’t even that busy.” My thoughts go back to the other night in Tristan’s gym, on the mat, where we made out and I pretty much dry humped him like a dog in heat. I’ve never reacted that way to a man before. I can’t imagine how far we would’ve went had Lexi and Mason not walked in and interrupted us when they did. Actually, I can imagine, which is precisely why I can’t focus.

  I feel my cheeks heat up as my mind conjures up all the sexual thoughts and fantasies that have been plaguing me these last few days, and Veronica gives me a knowing look. “Ohh…I know that look. Charlie! You have a man on your mind!”

  Of course Bianca walks over while Veronica is saying this. “What?! You have a boyfriend? How did we not know this? Who is he? Is he hot? Is he good in bed?”

  Before I can answer, I hear laughter from behind me. I would recognize that sound anywhere. Turning around slowly, my suspicions are confirmed when I see Tristan sitting on a stool only a couple feet away, and judging by the smirk on his face, he heard everything.

  “Please don’t go speechless on my account. I would love to know the answers to those questions myself.” His grin grows wider, and I glare his way. Needing a moment to gather myself, I make the three drinks—correct this time—and hand them off to Veronica.

  Then I take the order from Bianca and make her drinks. Once I hand them off to her, I check on every customer at the bar before making my way back to Tristan.

  “Is it my turn yet?” he asks. “If not, I can wait. Lexi is sleeping over at my sister’s, so I have all night.”

  “It’s your turn,” I choke out. “What can I get for you?”

  “An Octoberfest.” I grab the beer from the cooler, twist the top, and pour the drink into a chilled glass before handing it to him. Bianca comes over and places another order, so I start working on it.

  “So you’re a dancer and a bartender?” he asks, taking a sip of his beer. Bianca chokes out a laugh and I stifle mine. Tristan looks from me to Bianca confused but continues. “How many other jobs do you have?”

  “Charlie, I didn’t know you were working as a dancer. Will you still be working the bar?” Nick asks. I didn’t realize he was back from his break yet.

  “Charlie?” Tristan says my name in confusion. “You’re not a dancer?”

  “Nope,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I never said I was,” I point out, handing Bianca her drink order. Tristan’s head tilts to the side giving my words some thought. “You assumed. I simply didn’t correct you.” He shakes his head and grins.

  “You work the bar here?”

  “Yep, four nights a week.”

  “Come home with me.”

  “Why? Because now you know I’m not a stripper?”

  He frowns. “Don’t be like that. We have hung out plenty, and the entire time I thought you were one. I apologized for my initial reaction. I’m sorry, Charlie. For assuming. For my harsh words. Please forgive me.” He gives me the cutest puppy dog pout, his bottom lip playfully jutting out and I give in.

  “I work until three.”

  “Actually, I was just about to tell you, you can leave early,” Nick says. “It’s dead in here tonight. Tomorrow will be busy and Saturday will be crazy with the Halloween party. You can cut out early.”

  Before I can respond, Tristan says, “Great!” He downs the last of his beer and throws a couple bills on the counter.

  I pick them up to cash him out. “Okay, I just need to count my till and then we can go.” Tristan nods. I grab my till and walk it to the back room to count my money. After verifying that my receipts and cash match the computer’s totals, I clock-out and head to the front.

  “You ready?” he asks.

  “Yeah.”

  He drove here, so we jump into his truck. “Mason has a girl over, so I was thinking we could go somewhere.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “You hungry?”

  “I could eat.”

  Tristan doesn’t tell me where we’re going and I don’t ask. We listen to music in comfortable silence, and about thirty minutes later we pull up to Santa Monica beach. The pinks and purples of the Ferris wheel light up the surrounding area.

  Tristan comes around to my side of the truck, and being a gentleman, helps me down. Holding my hand, he guides me to a café on the pier. “Let’s order it to go and eat on the beach.” After we get our food, he runs into a touristy shop and comes back out with a large blanket.

  We make our way down to the beach. We pick a spot close enough that we can hear the music and see all the beautiful lights, but far enough away that we can talk without yelling. After handing me my food and drink, Tristan gets comfortable next to me.

  “My name is Tristan Scott. My biological father abused my mom and left us. He was killed in a gambling incident. I have two sisters, Emma and Morgan. They’re twins and a pain in my ass. Morgan is going to fashion school here in LA. Emma is going to college back in Las Vegas for education. I’m twenty-seven years old and my birthday is January 28th. I have a degree in Business Management with a minor in Fitness Training.

  “I thought I was in love with my best friend, Bella, but when she chose our friend Marco over me—after she got pregnant with his baby but didn’t tell him, and I agreed to raise the baby with her—I realized it wasn’t meant to be. I had a one night stand with my ex-girlfriend, Gina, but Mason calls her shewhoshallnotbenamed because he’s a closet diehard Harry Potter fan, and because he hates Gina for walking out of the hospital and leaving Lexi—for choosing a life of drugs over her daughter. But I don’t hate her.”

  He shakes his head, pausing for a second, and trying to come up with the right words. “I pity her. Because even a single day without Lexi in my life would be a cold, lonely day, so I can’t even imagine how she feels going day after day without her. But then again, maybe she doesn’t know what she’s missing because she never got to experien
ce the sunshine and brightness that is Lexi.”

  Tristan smiles, probably thinking of one of the many memories with his daughter.

  “My dad, the one who raised me, Kaden, is wealthy, like really wealthy. He created a trust fund for me and my sisters, which is how I went to college with no debt and then purchased the gym. I’m really lucky. Not because of his money, but because he thinks of me as his own and loves me like I’m really his son.”

  He takes a bite of his food, but I don’t begin to eat yet. I’m too busy trying to wrap my head around all the information he’s feeding me. When he finishes chewing, he takes a sip of his drink, and then goes back to his story.

  “I own the gym, as you know, and Mason is a fighter there along with several other UFC fighters. I own the condo we live in. Mason and I lived together for two years back in Las Vegas, and for the last six years in California. I lived in San Diego but transferred to LA to get a fresh start.

  “My favorite color is blue, I love BBQ chicken, and Key Lime pie is my favorite dessert.” He smirks, but isn’t done. “I have been in one relationship my entire life. I want the family, the kids, the white picket fucking fence, and that might make me sound like a pussy but it’s the truth. I want what my parents have. But until I get that, I’m content with my life with my daughter and Mason. My biggest fear is that something will happen to my daughter and I won’t be able to fix it.”

  A huge knot forms in my stomach at his final words. Those words right there are exactly why I have to keep him and his daughter at arm’s length. I can feel myself falling for the both of them. I can see myself falling in love, but is it fair to them if I can never give them all of me? If I’ll always feel it’s necessary to keep them at a safe distance to keep them safe from me?

  “Why are you telling me all this?” I choke out. He sets his food and drink down and pulls me onto his lap, so I’m straddling him. His hands frame my face so I have no choice but to look him in the eyes. His dark blue to my muddy green. It’s fitting, really. His world is filled with brightness like the clear skies and deep oceans with only just a hint of darkness to remind us he isn’t perfect, while my world is dirty and messy. The dirtiness muddying up the cleanliness I crave.