by Lori Foster
Soon as his headlights hit the front of the house, he realized he’d had a visitor.
Some asshole had stomped on all the new flowers he’d planted in the beds around the front porch.
Son of a bitch. The Wades weren’t the only ones to be vandalized. Could that mean someone didn’t like his connection to them? Probably, and as far as Justice was concerned, Marcus was his number-one suspect.
* * *
SITTING IN THE Body Armor Agency, ensconced in his boss’s office with the requisite coffee and treats, Justice updated Leese and Sahara. Knowing they’d be curious, he’d even taken photos with his cell phone to better show the damage done to the houses.
They both frowned over the red paint and sympathized with him over his squished flowers.
“Sucks,” Leese said. “But it still surprises me that you’d plant all those flowers.”
“My granny and mom bought them for me. I didn’t have much choice. They’re both going to be pissed when they see the mess.”
Sahara looked at him over her coffee cup, and when she finished her drink, she suggested, “Replant. Don’t tell them.”
“Maybe.” The idea had merit, though he knew how disappointed his mom always got whenever he’d told her even the smallest lie. Still, she’d start in worrying if he didn’t.
Absolutely no one could worry like his mom. She’d cornered the market. If Fallon wanted to see melodrama, he should introduce the two of them—No. What the hell was he thinking?
All kinds of crazy connotations went along with a girl meeting a guy’s mom. He definitely couldn’t go there.
“What?” Leese asked. “Did you think of something else?”
“No.” Nothing that he could share with anyone.
Leese said, “I think more research is in order. There’s probably a connection somewhere that we’re missing.”
“Fallon and her family swear there isn’t any real threat. They just want her protected against anything that might come up.”
“So maybe they don’t know. Maybe they’re overlooking something.”
Sahara saluted Leese with her coffee. “You know, you’re proving to be the best at research, often even better than my PI. You have an innate knack for knowing what trails to follow. If you have any free time, maybe you could lend Justice a hand. Just log in your hours for me.”
Leese glanced at Justice. “I don’t want to step on your toes. If you’d rather do some digging yourself—”
“Not offended,” Justice promised. “I’m not nearly as good at it as you are, and I know it, so I welcome the help.”
Leese smiled in anticipation. “Then consider it done.”
“I’m glad that’s settled.” Sahara moved to sit behind her desk, dismissing them with a shooing motion of her hand. “Keep me updated,” she said absently, already logging into her PC.
In silence, Justice and Leese walked out together and boarded the elevator. As soon as the doors closed, Leese asked, “You okay?”
Surprised by the question, Justice growled, “Yeah, ’course.” But he stewed.
Leese snorted. “Give it up. You’ve got something on your mind. I can tell.”
Should he tell? He’d found Leese to be a good confidant, but still, some shit should be kept private.
Folding his arms and resting back in the elevator, Leese waited.
Well, hell. Justice scowled. “Thing is, it’s going to sound ridiculous.” As melodramatic as Fallon had accused.
“Probably not as much as you’re thinking.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Justice tried to think of where to start, and finally just said it. “I don’t feel like me anymore. Hell, I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s like, for so long I was a fighter. End of story, ya know? I woke up and knew what I’d be doing that day. What I wanted to happen and how I’d work on it.”
Leese nodded. “There’s more of a routine to fighting. Training, travel, competition. Whether it goes good or bad, you know what to expect. With this job, not so much.”
“Right,” Justice agreed, jumping on his understanding of the situation. “I’m doing this shit and I like it. A lot. But the guy I used to know isn’t there anymore. The things that come naturally to me, I can’t do. The stuff I can do...well, it feels way too fucking natural. Like I was born to do it.” Frustration crawled over him; he knew most of it centered around Fallon.
They stepped out of the elevator but didn’t head for the front doors.
“I get it,” Leese assured him.
“Do you?” Because Justice wasn’t entirely sure he did, so how could Leese?
“I’ve gone through a few transformations myself.” With a self-deprecating smile, Leese said, “I used to be a dick.”
Justice tried to deny that. “You were just—”
“We both know it’s true. Then I got involved in Cannon’s camp and I finally felt focused. I gave my all to following what I thought I wanted—fighting.”
“That is what you wanted,” Justice countered. Hell, Leese had more heart than a lot of champions.
“No. Once I accepted reality, that I’d never be the best, I starting thinking about other options, and the stuff I enjoyed more.”
“That’s how you ended up at Body Armor?”
“Yeah.” Leese looked as uncomfortable with the conversation as Justice. “And good thing, because now I know this is what I was always meant to do. It feels like the right fit, you know? Far more so than fighting ever did. It’s more natural for me.”
“See,” Justice said, “that’s sort of how I feel. Except there are conflicts, too.”
Leese slowly smiled. “The girl? That’s the conflict we’re talking about, right?”
Would it be disloyal to Fallon to say so?
“I’ve been there, too,” Leese reminded him. “I’m definitely not one to judge.”
True. Leese was going to marry the girl he’d been conflicted over, so he’d been farther down the road than Justice planned to travel. After remembering that, he didn’t need much prodding. He spilled his guts, telling Leese about Marcus, his mention of a scar and Fallon’s reaction. “What do you make of that?”
Brows together, Leese gave it quick thought, then shared his advice. “I think I need to dig a little deeper into her background.”
“I thought you already did that.”
“I did a surface search looking for the obvious stuff, but now I might have more direction.” He clapped Justice on the shoulder. “In the meantime, stay sharp—and make damned sure she’s on board before you push for anything beyond a business relationship.”
Justice put his hands on his hips. “S’that what you did with Catalina?”
Grinning, Leese said, “Catalina didn’t give me much choice in the matter. I tried to resist, but she was pretty damned insistent.”
After a shared laugh, they parted ways, with Leese heading to the shooting range in the basement and Justice heading for his car. He had a lot to accomplish before he went to the Wade house.
Unlike Catalina, he knew Fallon would never push for a relationship. She was too shy, too sheltered. That meant he had to concentrate on keeping it professional, no matter how difficult that might be.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FALLON WAS SO EXCITED, she couldn’t contain her smiles. The parking lot would be jam-packed, Justice explained, so he parked in a pay lot a block from the venue. On their way in, they passed crowds of people ready for the fights, many of them wearing the same type of shirt as the one Justice had given to her, but with different fighters featured on the front.
Groups of young men hung together, already tipsy. Women, dressed to impress, flirted as they went by.
A couple of guys recognized Justice and asked for a photo with him. Even after he explained t
hat he didn’t compete anymore, they were still impressed and adoring, so he gave in, all while keeping Fallon close at hand.
He got them into the venue through a side door, away from the long line of people awaiting entry. They went down a hallway filled with men in shorts and T-shirts, some pacing, some hurrying along, others carrying supplies.
When passage got difficult, Justice took her hand, presumably so he wouldn’t lose track of her. Whatever the reason, she felt a ridiculous thrill from his touch. His hand was easily twice the size of hers, strong and warm. Her heart started thumping hard, and when he glanced back at her with a cocky smile, she realized she was squeezing him.
They ducked through a closed door. She was surprised to find Cannon, Armie and Denver inside.
“You made it,” Cannon said to her, coming forward for a greeting.
“It’s so exciting,” she whispered, then stalled when Cannon drew her in for a hug. Armie got her next, then passed her along to Denver.
If she lived to be a hundred, she’d never get used to how these big, ripped specimens were so demonstrative—and so gentle. It was enough to leave a woman with permanent heart palpitations.
Knowing she blushed, Fallon didn’t object when Justice pulled her back to his side.
She stayed quiet as he asked the group, “How’s Stack doing?”
“He’s ready,” Cannon said with confidence. “I’ll be rejoining him in a few minutes.” Then to Fallon he said, “There’s food if you’re hungry.” He indicated a table filled with a variety of things to eat and drinks in a cooler. “Or if you’re interested, Justice can show you around, introduce you to some people.”
“Whatever Justice wants to do is fine by me.”
All the men grinned at her while Justice rubbed the back of his neck. She realized what she’d said, twisted her mouth and added, “Within reason.”
That made them laugh.
Armie nodded at her chest. “Nice shirt.”
She looked down at it with a smile. “Justice gave it to me.” She’d worn the oversize black fighter tee over a long-sleeved white shirt. Justice wore his gray shirt alone.
And my, how he filled it out. She had to admit, it looked much better on him than it looked on her.
Armie said, “When the ladies wear it, they tie it on the side.” He smiled. “Mind if I show you?”
“Oh...um...” She glanced at Justice.
He rolled his eyes. “Do it,” he said to Armie, “but make damned sure you’re behaving.”
“Stretch would have my hide if I didn’t.”
Stretch, she recalled, was Cannon’s little sister and Armie’s wife.
Armie stepped up to her, turned her to the side, then took the hem of the shirt and knotted it at her hip. It didn’t affect the wolf design on front, but did make it fit her better and look more stylish.
He turned her toward a mirror and asked, “What do you think?”
Apparently Armie had many talents. “I like it. Thank you.”
“You’re going to get warm with that undershirt,” Denver predicted. “It gets downright steamy about halfway through the night.”
“Oh, well...” She couldn’t lose the layer, so she merely shrugged and tried to act like it didn’t matter. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
Justice watched her until the door opened and more people stepped in. Clearly these were other fighters in the group and since she was the only woman, she started to feel like an intruder.
It got more awkward when one of the men asked if she was “with” Justice and he explained they weren’t dating.
The man immediately tried to cozy up to her.
Justice immediately protested—and that had his friends all laughing.
Armie pulled him aside for a private conversation, and while Justice was otherwise occupied, two more men smoothly stepped in with questions about her availability. Fallon was both flattered and flustered. She’d never before garnered so much attention.
Even as she made excuses about why she shouldn’t give out her phone number, she smiled until her cheeks hurt.
Minutes later, Justice rejoined her and that got rid of the interested men real quick.
It might have had something to do with Justice’s sudden cross mood. He glared at everyone, including Armie, who kept snickering.
With the growled excuse that he’d show her around, Justice flipped off Armie, gave a halfhearted wave to the others and urged her from the room.
“What’s going on?” Fallon asked.
“Nothing.”
It was far too crowded to debate while walking in the hallway, so Fallon simply stopped. When Justice turned to her, she said, “Something, and I want to know what.”
He stepped close, backing her to the wall and using his body to block her from passersby. He braced one thick arm on the wall above her head and leaned in. “Fine. You want to know what’s got me irked?”
She’d never seen him in a mood like this. And, good Lord, he surrounded her! With every breath, she inhaled his hot scent, leaving her stomach filled with butterflies. No longer quite so certain, she whispered, “Yes?”
He angled closer still until his face was near hers and she could see her own reflection in his dark eyes. Then he said nothing.
His gaze dipped to her mouth.
Her heart went into her throat and her toes curled inside her shoes. “Justice?”
He drew a slow breath and his eyes met hers again. The impact was enough to weaken her knees.
Suddenly his mouth tilted. “Don’t faint on me.”
She shook her head, unwilling to make any promises.
“Guys are hittin’ on you.”
“They are?” Is that what bothered him?
“Yeah, and don’t give me that innocent act.” He tweaked her chin. “You liked it. But, honey, this isn’t the place for it. Half the dudes here will be toasted by the end of the night, and half the ladies will be willing regardless. So Armie made a suggestion.”
Was it the suggestion, then, that had him riled? Feeling very daring, she prodded him. “Let’s hear it.”
Justice took his time, tucking back her hair, then stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Tonight, if anyone asks, you’re with me.”
Going breathless, she repeated, “With you?”
“Yeah. That’s the safest way for us to play it.” He drifted the backs of his knuckles down her throat, then lightly cupped her shoulder. “So we’ll be doing some of this tonight.”
“This...what?”
“Touching. Teasing. Me making it clear to every yahoo out there that you’re mine.”
She had absolutely nothing to say to that. Little jittery explosions were going off in her body, making it hard to breathe, hard to think, but not to feel. Nope, she could feel just fine and the way he’d touched her...
“Okay?”
Well, shoot. He expected conversation. She managed a nod.
When Justice grinned, crinkles showed in the corners of his dark sinner’s eyes. “You are so sweet.” He looked her over, then playfully asked, “You sure you won’t faint?”
No. “Pretty sure.”
His grin widened. “You sound all raspy.” He dipped his head, then said softly into her ear, “Don’t get nervous. I won’t be pushing the boundaries. We just need to convince everyone else.”
Right. In order to protect her heart—and her pride—she seriously needed to remember that, for Justice, this was no more than a job. All the sudden flirting and intimacy was a game played to make the job easier. It would be beyond foolish for her to keep reacting to him so emotionally.
What she needed to do, she decided, was take advantage of the awesome opportunity now afforded her. How many big, buff, badass and sexy men would want to be this close to her? She c
ould enjoy every second of it while keeping it in perspective by reminding herself that it wasn’t real.
Play it cool, she told herself, but definitely go ahead and play.
“Fallon?”
Justice’s low, gruff voice and the way his warm breath teased her ear wasn’t helping her to get control.
He stayed very near to her, and his scruffy jaw brushed hers.
“Hmm?”
“You ready?”
For what? She didn’t actually ask, because she knew whatever it was, yes, she was more than ready. Anxious even. She’d wanted some new experiences; now it appeared she’d get her money’s worth.
In a lust-induced stupor, she nodded. Satisfied, he pressed his warm mouth to her temple in a brief kiss that made her breath catch.
“For anyone watching,” he explained, then he levered back and slung his arm around her shoulders, keeping her close as he headed back down the wide hall.
Luckily they had a few minutes before she was expected to speak to anyone. The crowds got thicker, giving her time to get her wits together as they wended in and out of human congestion. Eventually they ended up near the “cage.” Justice showed her where their seats would be, right behind the announcers. An entire section was roped off for the group.
Many people—fighters and their wives, past and present champions, a few celebrities who’d shown up to watch, referees and announcers—all greeted Justice like a friend. The scope of his social circle amazed her.
He introduced her each time and allowed people to make the assumption they were a couple. One man grinned and gave him a fist bump with the murmured praise, “Nice.”
After the man walked away, Justice whispered, “He means you,” and gave her an affectionate squeeze.
Fallon bit her lip, but the implied flattery still made her grin.
Once the fight started, many of the women sat together but Justice didn’t like that arrangement. He kept her at his side and she ended up sandwiched between him and Denver.
Since they were both gigantic men, she felt extra tiny and completely insulated from some of the jostling as people surged to their feet again and again to cheer or shout instructions. Fallon didn’t think the men fighting heard all the yelling. If they did, they didn’t acknowledge it. She figured the spectators just liked to give suggestions regardless.