by Lori Foster
The words no sooner left her than she winced. Of course he remembered. As Mary had said, details of the entire ordeal had played out in the news. She’d refused all interviews, but she knew her face had appeared plenty of times.
His attention, friendly as it might be, didn’t help to calm the stampeding of her pulse. “You’re not at all forgettable.”
Nodding, she said in apology, “Of course you’re right.”
One brow lifted and he grinned.
Oh, God, worse and worse. Yvette tried a glance at Cannon, but if anything, he looked more amused than Rowdy. “I meant because of the trial and everything. I sometimes forget how many times they plastered my pathetic face in the news.”
“That’s not how he meant it,” Cannon chided.
Rowdy’s mellow gaze warmed. “No, it isn’t.” Luckily, he let that go as he turned to Cannon. “Make use of the bar however you want.”
Wondering what that meant, Yvette watched Cannon, but he just nodded. “Thanks.”
“I’ll let you get back to your private chat in just a second. But first, a lot of people are calling in, asking if you’re really here. Word is spreading. I suspect we’ll be mobbed very shortly.”
“Damn.” Cannon stretched out his long legs and shook his head. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s not a problem for me. We like the business.” After a glance at Yvette, Rowdy said, “I’m assuming you plan to cut out for the night?”
“Yeah, sorry.”
“No worries. I understand.”
Well, she didn’t. Again, she wanted to protest, but with Rowdy standing between them it would be rude to interrupt.
“How would you feel about announcing a night that you’ll be around? Say in a week or two? That’ll give you time to settle in, and hopefully keep people from crowding you in the meantime.”
“A week or two?” Her appalled tone blew her cool, polite facade. “You’re staying that long?”
“Yeah, I am.” The heated stare Cannon leveled on her held too many meanings for her to decipher. “At least.”
Happiness bloomed—but she denied it. Okay, so it’d be fantastic to see him more. It was still unexpected. She had assumed he’d make it a couple of days at most—long enough for her to explain that she’d handle everything, then send him his check once things were settled. He’d said his sister still had the family home here, and she knew he visited often, but from what she’d understood, his life was now in Harmony, Kentucky. “What about your training?”
“I just finished a fight, so unless the SBC says differently, I’ll wind it down some.” His eyes darkened. “Besides, I have weights I can set up in the basement.”
“The… What basement?”
“Our basement.”
Oh, good Lord. Now he considered her grandfather’s house theirs? Sure, technically it was, but she hadn’t expected him to assert his rights beyond wanting a quick sale of the properties.
Every question she had sounded rude, so Yvette clammed up.
Apparently that suited the men just fine.
“I could throw out some promotion, make a big deal of it.” Rowdy propped a hip on the table. “Think you’d be in for autographs and photos?”
“Sure. Whatever you want. Maybe I could even work that night, like I used to.”
Rowdy laughed. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
“I’m offering. It’d be fun.” He glanced around the break room. “To be honest, I miss the place.”
“Simpler times?”
“Something like that.”
With both men looking at her, Yvette almost squirmed. Were they insinuating that she’d complicated things? Ha! She did her utmost to make it easier on Cannon. He was the one being difficult.
Clapping him on the shoulder, Rowdy said, “If you have the time, come by tomorrow. We can talk more then. And hey, if you need help with anything, let me know.”
“Will do.”
The second Rowdy left the room, Yvette surged to her feet. Cannon didn’t. If anything, he lounged back more, his indolent posture reminding her of a lean, muscular jungle cat.
Just waiting for an opportunity to pounce.
Wound too tight, beyond weary, she rubbed at her temple to fend off an approaching headache.
“Loosen your hair,” Cannon suggested, but the way he said it made it sound sexual instead of sensible.
“It’s okay.” She dropped her hand, then went straight to her top concern. “You really intend to stay at the house?”
Folding his hands behind his head, he nodded. “Yup.”
Keeping her attention on his face instead of his awesome physique proved impossible. That particular position put outstanding biceps on display and pulled his soft cotton T-shirt taut over the solid surface of his chest and rigid abs.
Just looking at him made her breathe deeper. But then, thinking about him did that to her, too. Being in close, personal proximity with him, seeing his easy smile and modest attitude, was enough to keep her flushed with sexual curiosity.
God, the man was fine. Wide, solid shoulders, narrow hips and his… She swallowed hard and skipped her gaze past his lap to his long, solid legs.
Stop, she ordered herself. Only a masochist would continue teasing herself when she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Reminded of her deficiency, Yvette snatched up her purse and shrugged the strap over her shoulder. “All right, then. I guess I’ll see you there.”
All kinds of suspicious, Cannon sat forward. “You’re still going there, too?”
Ah, so he’d hoped to find an altruistic way to spare her from staying at the big, bad house where all her trauma had occurred.
Her lip almost curled—with self-derision. “Yes, I am.” He’d see that she didn’t need to be saved. “Is that a problem?”
Maybe now he’d bow out.
Instead he unfolded that long, tall body until he stood over her. Too close. So close that she felt the heat radiating off him.
He kept doing that, getting in her space in an intimate way. Making her heart race. Making her want things she couldn’t have.
He touched her chin. “Not for me.”
Oh. The way he said that, as if he expected it to be a problem for her…. And it would be. A torturous, frustrating problem—one she’d deal with on her own. “There are three bedrooms and two baths, so it should be fine.”
With probing intensity, his gaze moved over her face. “If you say so.”
Discretion being the better part of valor, she decided to retreat.
Catching her arm before she’d taken a single step, Cannon used his thumb to caress her skin. “It’ll be just the two of us, alone there together.”
“Well, I hope so.” She hadn’t even considered the alternative, but maybe she should have. Unpleasant possibilities had her glaring. “You don’t plan to move anyone else in, do you? Mary or some other woman?”
He laughed before catching himself. “No.” Showing no signs of offense, he caught her other arm, too. “Just you and me.”
The way he stared at her mouth prompted her to lick her lips.
Bad idea, given the flare in his blue eyes.
“I’ll, ah, give you privacy.” It took all her conviction not to lean into him, to resist the lure of his nearness. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Not even close.”
The rough velvet words weakened her resolve. “Then—”
“My worry is a man and woman alone with beds nearby.” He drew her up to her tiptoes. “Unless that’s what you want.”
She couldn’t think. “What?” she whispered.
His breath teased over her lips. “Us, together.” His voice went deeper, rougher. “Making use of the beds.”
When she only stared at him, she saw the smile in his eyes—seconds before his mouth touched the corner of hers.
“Sex,” he breathed.
“Oh.” He wanted to have sex with her. “You’re coming on to me?”
No, his touch was dead-on, heating her with sizzling awareness. “But you just sent Mary away!”
As if she should have understood, he said, “You aren’t Mary.”
The surprise bubbled out as a small laugh. Appalled at herself, Yvette put a hand to his chest. She meant to lever herself away, but instead, the solid muscles had her curling her fingers against him. “No,” she said with apology. “I’m not.”
His thumbs started that wicked caressing again. “I’m glad.”
Only because he didn’t understand the major difference: Mary could accommodate him, but she could not.
Knowing she had to be fair, Yvette tried to explain. “You might want to rethink things. With Mary, I mean. See…I don’t…” Was there a polite way to put it? No, there wasn’t. “Do that.”
Comical confusion showed in his expression.
And no wonder. She sounded so absurd. “That is, I’m not… I can’t…”
“Can’t?”
“Won’t?”
He searched her face. “Pick one.”
She blew out a breath. “Don’t.” Now she pushed away from him, but landing back on her own feet without support left her shaky. “I don’t.” Gesturing, she explained, “Do that.”
Dubious, his gaze roamed over her from head to toes and back again. “You don’t have sex?”
“No.” And now, with him so near and so…focused, she had more regrets than ever.
“You’re not a virgin.”
She sputtered over the accusing way he said that. “No, but that was then, and now…” She rubbed her brow. “Sorry if I’m confusing you. But I don’t do any of that anymore. I mean dating or sex or anything. So anyway, you see, there’s no problem.” Her smile fell flat. More discussion was not going to make any of this better. Knowing that, she backed up one step, then another. “I’m going to head out now.”
Discontent furrowed his brows, making his blue eyes incendiary. “You’re going to say that and then just book?”
Definitely. Inching toward the door, she nodded. “I’m exhausted.” To give credence to that excuse, she staged a huge yawn. “I need some sleep. You probably do, too.”
He didn’t move.
“So…I’ll see you there. Whenever. Don’t hurry on my account, though.” She backed through the doorway. “I think Mary is still waiting for you.”
The frown got darker. “Forget Mary.”
“Okay, sure.” She continued inching away. “You have a key to get in, right?”
Muscled arms crossed over his chest and he looked down his nose at her. “Yeah.”
“Okay, then I’ll leave the door braces off.”
“Door braces?”
“Added security. You know…those bars that… Never mind. I’ll show you. Later.” She cleared her throat. “When you’re there. Though probably not until tomorrow because I’m going straight to bed—”
“I’m coming now.” He started toward her.
“You don’t have to!” More than anything she wanted to avoid another confrontation until she had her wits collected and could speak without sounding like an idiot. She could accomplish that by being in her room with the door closed before he showed up. Tomorrow morning…well, she’d get up early as usual, maybe go for a jog to clear her head and help collect her thoughts.
She hadn’t expected him to want to pick up where they’d left off.
Three years had passed!
But since he did, and since she couldn’t, she’d have to figure out a way to explain it all to him without actually baring her soul.
Still retreating, she almost bumped into someone, looked over her shoulder and apologized to Rowdy’s wife.
“Don’t mind me,” Avery said, her arms laden with dirty glasses after clearing tables. She continued on as if it was a normal night.
As if Yvette weren’t backing away from a superhunk who inexplicably wanted sexual involvement with her.
The night ranked right up there as one of the least normal she’d had—since moving away.
CHAPTER FOUR
CANNON WAS ON her by the time she looked away from Avery.
Green eyes flared wide when she realized he intended to leave with her—as in, right beside her with his hand curled around the nape of her neck beneath her long ponytail.
Unaccountably provoked, he whispered, “Let’s go,” but her feet remained glued to the floor.
Lacing her fingers together, she blinked up at him. “You don’t have to do this.”
He flexed his neck to relieve the knotted muscles there. “This?”
“Dogging my heels.”
That pissed him off.
Until she clarified, “Protecting me.”
No, maybe he didn’t. But he wanted to. Bad. Hell, he was half-hard and all he’d gotten from her so far were denials, rejections and hilarity at his interest.
And that far-fetched tale about her not having sex. He urged her forward, and she reluctantly gave in.
“This is pointless.”
Determined to prove her wrong on that score, he kept them both walking.
She dug in, saying, “I’m not going to cheat you.”
Even in the crowded, noisy bar, a few people looked up—including Mary, who stood among a small crowd of men.
Steering Yvette to the side, Cannon said, “Keep it down, will you.”
Appalled, she looked around, more upset than she should have been. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, and that implacable mask of poise fell into place.
Now, in a much softer tone, she said, “I’m sorry, but I want you to know. Soon as I sell everything, I’ll send you your half. You don’t have to hang around. I’m sure you have other, more important things to do.”
He wanted to do her, and that was as important as it got. She might not realize it, but the more she tried to run him off, the more determined he was to stay. “Understand something, Yvette.”
A little wary, she asked, “What?”
Smiling to soften his inflexible tone, he leaned closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Huffing, she gave in, no longer fighting him as they headed across the floor, but still stiff-necked under his hand.
Good thing he had a healthy ego. He sensed she wanted to avoid something, but he wasn’t convinced that it was him. There was something more going on.
He planned to find out what.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered.
“We’ll talk when we get home.” They were almost to the door when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
Senses prickling, Cannon turned—then ducked out of reach as someone threw a wild haymaker.
Tucking Yvette back behind him, he said, “What the hell?”
Sour beer breath blasted his face when a man swayed toward him and shouted, “You insulted ’er.”
Looking beyond the idiot slurring his words, Cannon saw Mary watching, her hand over her mouth in dismay. Shit. He hated drama over women. “No insult intended.”
The guy wouldn’t let it go. “You thin’ you’re such a hotshot?”
Sighing, Cannon felt the fascinated gazes of the crowd. The guy challenging him was big and muscular—but not a real match by any stretch. It’d be manslaughter if he took him on. “Look,” Cannon said, “why don’t you let me call you a cab?”
“Fuck you!” He poked at Cannon’s chest. “You were shitty to ’er.”
Cannon caught his hand, jerked him forward then around and put him in a headlock. It’d be so easy to put the guy to sleep…but that didn’t seem fair. He looked up at Mary. “Happy now?”
She gasped. “I didn’t know he’d come after you!”
Without much effort, Cannon contained the wild flailing of the man he held and said to her, “You didn’t put him up to it?”
“No! I would never do that.”
He wasn’t sure if he believed her or n
ot, but it didn’t really change anything anyway. “You know him?”
Miserable, she nodded. “He’s a…friend.”
“Then see that he gets home.” Cannon released the man—then had to push him back when the idiot reached for him again. Pointing at him, Cannon said, “No more.”
Too drunk to listen, the guy tucked down and charged.
Shit, shit, shit. Pulling the punch as much as he could, Cannon struck him with a straight right jab—and watched him sink, boneless, to the floor.
Stepping to the front of the crowd, Rowdy watched the drunk stir. “Sorry, I got here quick as I could.”
“It happened fast.”
“Bar fights usually do.”
That had Cannon snorting. There’d been no fight to it.
“Thanks for going easy on him.”
“No problem.”
Shaking his head, Rowdy said, “You are freakishly calm.”
With a shrug, Cannon said, “Not always, but I’m not going to get bent over a drunk.” He turned—and didn’t see Yvette. He searched the room.
“She’s gone,” Rowdy told him. “Lit out the second you got preoccupied.”
Now, that riled him. Only half under his breath, he muttered, “Fuck.”
The drunken idiot groaned. Together, Cannon and Rowdy helped him to his feet.
“All of you,” Rowdy said to the small group. “Time to go.” They grumbled, but followed Rowdy as he started toward the door. As if they weren’t escorting a bloody-nosed patron and his cronies to the curb, Rowdy asked, “You plan to move in on her?”
In more ways than one. Shrugging, Cannon held the door open as the small group departed with their buddy. “I told you, half of everything is mine.”
The last man, on his way out, handed Rowdy some cash to cover their tab. “Sorry about that.”
“If it happens again, he’s banned from returning.”
That caused more grousing, but a second later they were all gone.
Still by the door, Rowdy rested back on the wall. He stared toward Mary, who’d already moved on to a different tableful of men. “She’s trouble.”
“You could have warned me earlier.”
“You’re a big boy.” When Ella the waitress came by, Rowdy handed the money to her. “Besides, she’s only trouble when she finds an idiot to help her dole it out.”