by Lori Foster
Armie just stared at him.
Cannon stared back.
Yeah, now would be a really shitty time to laugh. Might even get him decked. So instead Armie cleared his throat. “If he’s that far away, I don’t see how—”
“I don’t want her attention divided.” Cannon opened and closed his fists in frustration. Voice going low, almost tortured, he said, “I want her one hundred percent focused on me.”
“Can I offer a suggestion?”
Cannon stewed, worked his jaw and finally said with deceptive calm, “Let’s hear it.”
“First, bring it down a notch. Dude, you are seriously heaving like a caveman and it’s just not like you. It’s making me uneasy, and you don’t want to fuck me. I can only imagine how the little lady feels.”
Hands again locking into massive fists, Cannon stewed some more.
Biting back a fat grin, Armie gave some—what he considered sound—advice. “Second, why not use the time she needs to win her over? You’re in the same house, right? So there’ll be a lot of alone time. Rein yourself in, take advantage of proximity and she’ll be the one sinking. Then you can just go down with her instead of drowning alone.”
“Your metaphors are getting more confusing by the minute.”
Armie rubbed his chin and tried to clarify. “It’s old-school, I know, but you might try seducing her. You’ll have time and opportunity. That’s all I’m saying.”
Cannon transferred his gaze back to the lady. She was busy oohing over a kid’s barely there biceps, then listening intently as one of the older boys told her a joke. She laughed, ruffled his hair, and Cannon clenched all over.
“I like her,” Armie stated. He clapped Cannon on the back. “Get it together, do your thing, be your usual irresistible self and like all the other ladies, she’ll be begging for it in no time.”
“God, I hope so,” Cannon told him quietly. “Because I’m not sure how long I can wait.”
He walked off to collect Yvette, so he didn’t see Armie’s surprise.
Huh. Cannon rarely talked about sex. The most the bastard ever did was smile when asked. So Yvette was unique.
Nice.
He’d spread the word around. It wouldn’t stop any of the guys from egging Cannon on when they could, but they’d also go out of their way to assist whenever and wherever possible.
Having Cannon back in town for an extended time would be even more rewarding than he’d first assumed.
Now, if he could just resolve his own issues…
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHILE YVETTE TOOK in all the improvements at the rec center, Cannon went over things in his head.
I can’t, I’m sorry.
Over and over, Cannon heard those softly whispered words. He didn’t buy it. Can’t? What the hell did that mean? She could. She most definitely would.
With him.
But as Armie had suggested, he probably needed to cool it just a bit before he spooked her too much.
They’d agreed—her with relief, him under duress—to discuss her odd statement more later. She claimed to be overwhelmed with all the changes. He could buy that.
But when she kissed him, the way she looked at him, he knew they were on the same page.
For some reason, she didn’t want to be. For some reason, she wanted to deny them both.
Twice more her ex had contacted her. Once again in text, once by a call that she let go to voice mail. The idea that she might be hung up on some other man made him more than a little nuts.
Hell, he didn’t like seeing Denver touch her, even in jest. He definitely didn’t want to stew on some bozo she cared about getting busy with her.
Turning his head toward his shoulder, Cannon cracked his neck. So much strain had crawled in that his muscles were knotting.
Before coming to the rec center, they’d stopped by Rowdy’s for lunch. Luckily, it was a lighter crowd and the women were mostly moms with their kids, or women with their boyfriends. Yvette had relaxed, chatting with Rowdy and Avery, praising them on the bar, answering questions about her life in California.
He wanted to get her alone, but for now, with her hands-off policy, being out and about was safer.
“This place was great when I saw it last, but now it’s amazing.”
“Thanks.” He, too, looked around, trying to see it as she would. Most of the fighters came in the morning and early evening, which left the afternoon free for the neighborhood kids and the after-school crowd. “Armie’s made a lot of improvements.”
She lightly elbowed him. “Don’t be modest. He said most of the equipment came from endorsements you got.”
True enough, but not the point. “He puts the stuff to good use.”
They headed for the break room together. On the way they passed Armie, who greeted a high school boy who’d just come in, dressed for a workout. “What’s he doing now?”
“He works with some of the wrestlers to help them with their techniques and to show them how wrestling can be put to good use in the SBC.”
“Is it the same as grappling?”
“In some ways. Taking a shot, sprawling to avoid one. Doing a switch or running a half, switching to a double leg. A crotch lift, or a suplex…” When she gave him a blank look, he smiled. “Sorry.”
“It’s interesting—when I understand.”
“Wrestling is a great tool to bring to MMA. But the point of wrestling is to get your opponent on his back. A lot of wrestlers naturally panic when that happens. But for real competition in the SBC, being on your back is just another offensive position. There are a lot of submissions that can be done from your back.” Being casual, Cannon smoothed her hair, then tucked it back behind her ear. He felt the stillness that settled over her, but pretended not to. “Armie works with the guys to show them how to transition wrestling moves into MMA skills.”
She cleared her throat, took a breath and focused again on Armie. “How many hours a day does he spend here?”
“More than he should.” As they stepped into the break room, Cannon put a hand to the small of her back and even that, the touch of his palm to her, through clothes, he felt everywhere. “He likes the kids a lot.”
“Funny.” She took a seat. “He said the same about you.”
“Yeah.” If he could, Cannon knew he would save every single child in the neighborhood. Save them from poverty, from neglect, from abuse.
From the bullies who gravitated to gangs and the bastards who peddled drugs.
He wasn’t a superhero, so instead, he did what he could. Luckily, guys like Armie carried more than a full load of responsibility. Denver, Stack, Miles, Gage…they all lent a hand.
Cannon got them both a Coke. “You were pretty good with the boys.”
“I love kids.” She took a sip, turned the can, traced a finger through the condensation. “When I was in school, I used to think about being a teacher.”
“Yeah?” He settled back in his seat, content to watch her.
“After everything that happened, though…”
He didn’t press her, didn’t try to fill the silence. The drone of voices, of strikes against the heavy bag and music from a CD, drifted in around them.
Her gaze shied away from his. He didn’t mind. He enjoyed just looking at her.
Quietly, she explained, “What happened changed my plans a lot.”
True. But she was here now. With any luck, she’d stay. “The important thing is that you don’t let it change you.”
She gave a mirthless laugh that she quickly stifled.
Again, Cannon just waited.
“What will your routine be while you’re here?”
Avoidance? He’d let her get away with that—for now.
He shrugged. His routine would accommodate hers, but she probably didn’t want to hear that. “I was thinking I’d visit tonight with the guys.” Visiting being their excuse to scope out the neighborhood, to make sure everything remained right and tight in their own little corner of the world.<
br />
“I thought you said you usually jog really early in the morning.”
“Twice a day, every day. It’s part of what I do to stay in shape. But I won’t be that late.” And in case she thought to dodge him again, he added, “And I’m always an early riser, no matter how late I stay up.”
Denver walked in, saw them and stalled. “Hey. Sorry.” He started to backpedal.
“It’s fine,” Cannon told him. “We won’t be much longer.”
Still, Denver crept around as if he was afraid of waking the dead. Carrying a white towel, he wore snug shorts and nothing else. Sweat dampened his chest and his long hair. The activity had left his face flushed. He inched quietly toward the water machine.
Cannon met Yvette’s gaze, and they both grinned.
He and Denver shared a similar height, but Denver had twenty pounds on him, making him a heavyweight instead of a light heavyweight. “I was just telling Yvette that we’ll get together tonight.”
Relaxing a little now that he’d been included, Denver nodded. “Sounds good to me. Say nine or so? Meet out front of Rowdy’s?”
“That works. Ask around and see who wants to join us.”
“Gage is out.” Denver upended a bottle of water and guzzled down half of it. When he finished, he mopped his face with the towel again. “He and Harper are burning up the sheets at his place. Making up for lost time or something, Harper told me.”
Cannon noticed how Yvette tried not to stare. But again and again, her gaze went over Denver. He didn’t see the heat of interest in her eyes, just the gawking of a woman surprised to be near a mostly naked man with muscles pumped from a workout.
He supposed if a woman stood in front of him dressed the same, it’d distract him, too.
“Sounds like Harper.”
“They’re so nauseating about it, you’d think they were newlyweds.”
To Yvette, Cannon explained, “Gage was supposed to fight in Japan, too, but he took an elbow to the eye in practice and after too damn many stitches he was medically ineligible to participate.”
“Wow,” Yvette said with sympathy. “What a letdown that had to have been for him.”
“Sounds like Harper is helping him get over it.”
“That she is.” Denver drew out a chair and straddled it, bracing his arms along the back, the water bottle held loosely in one hand, the towel flung over his shoulder. “He’ll fight again and he knows it. But I’m going to miss their verbal sparring.”
“They set sparks off each other,” Cannon told her. “Pretty damn amusing most of the time.”
“So, uh…” Denver again drank from the bottle, finishing it off. “Cherry is in Japan with Merissa?”
Damn it. He didn’t want Yvette to know his house was empty, making it the perfect place for him to stay. Too late now, though. But before he gave it all away, he shot Denver a look. “Why are you asking?”
“No reason.”
“Try again.”
Going oddly defensive, Denver grumbled, “Just curious, okay?”
Yvette looked back and forth between them.
“Cherry lives with my sister,” Cannon reminded him quietly.
“Yeah, no shit. It’s not a secret.”
“No, but if you’re sniffing around Cherry, then it becomes my business.”
Denver pushed back his chair. “It was a simple question, Saint. No reason to get all pissy about it.”
Cannon stood, too. Damn it, Denver wanted to hook up with Cherry. He scowled. “Have you hit on her yet?”
“Cherry isn’t your sister, so back off.”
“This brings us full circle, since Cherry is living with my sister.”
“So what, man? It’s not like I plan to stage a damned orgy with your sister as the audience.”
Hearing the word orgy in the same sentence with his sister made Cannon rigid from his eyebrows down to his ankles. “You—”
Suddenly Armie was there, hauled in by Yvette.
Both Denver and Cannon stared at them.
“Yeah,” Armie said, patting Yvette’s hand on his arm. “I was fetched to referee so you two big dopes wouldn’t maim each other in front of the lady.”
Yvette looked uneasy but determined.
Forcing himself to relax, Cannon looked at Yvette. “You thought we’d come to blows?”
She tugged unobtrusively at the hand Armie continued to hold in the crook of his arm. “I wasn’t sure.”
Seeing Yvette’s unease, Cannon transferred his gaze to Armie. “You can let her go now.”
Grinning, Armie did just that, but then said, “You,” pointing at Denver, “keep your romantic pursuits to yourself.”
Cannon started to speak, but Armie pointed at him next.
“And you. Christ, man, your sister isn’t a baby.” Before Cannon could reply, he said, “And Denver isn’t Chester the Molester.”
“Thank you,” Denver said in a ridiculously snooty voice.
“No, but I know him. I know all of you.”
“So?” Denver asked.
“So I know how you think—and I know what you want.”
Yvette’s foot began to tap. “What? What does he want?”
Her tone didn’t bode well for anyone. “Let’s just say it isn’t romance.”
“So?”
“So women like to be romanced.”
Rolling her eyes, Yvette said, “Some do. Some don’t. Maybe Cherry would enjoy—” a red flush rose up her face, but she finished with “—whatever it is Denver has planned.”
“Jesus,” Denver said. “Does everyone think I’m planning perverted shit or what?”
“Nothing wrong with a little perversion,” Armie cut in. “But the main thing here is that Denver is a trustworthy guy. Hell, Cannon, I’d think you’d like having someone like him hanging around the place, given two girls live there all alone.”
“Women,” Yvette interjected into the tense room.
All eyes went to her.
Her foot stopped tapping and she said again, “They’re women, not girls.”
“Thank you, Gloria Steinem.” Armie skewered each of the guys with his scowl. “Is my work here done?”
“I wasn’t going to maim him,” Cannon told Yvette.
Denver snorted. “No, he definitely wasn’t.”
Their gazes clashed again.
“I’m not quite as radical as Gloria,” Yvette said a little loud and way too fast, and her efforts to distract became perfectly clear to one and all. “But they are women, not girls.”
Dropping his head, Armie laughed.
Yvette propped her hands on her hips. “Well, how would you like it if I called you guys boys?”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” Denver said.
Cannon shrugged. “Who cares?”
“See?” Armie told her. “No biggie.”
“Yeah, well, everyone knows guys are dense.” Irritation had her pivoting around and stalking out of the break room.
“I think she’s getting away,” Armie told Cannon, staring after her.
“I drove,” Cannon explained. “She won’t get far.” And then to Denver, “Armie’s right. I don’t have any personal objections against you.”
Denver threw up his hands. “Great. So I’m cleared for landing?”
“Not entirely, no.”
Armie barked a laugh, but Denver groused.
“Go after Cherry if you want—but only if you’re serious about her.”
“How the hell would I know if I was serious when we haven’t even had a private conversation yet?”
“You know what I mean.” Cannon wanted no misunderstandings. “She’s living with Rissy, so if you’re just looking to get laid, look elsewhere. Cherry’s off the list for one-night stands.”
Denver gave a careless lift of one shoulder that didn’t fool anyone. “I’m okay with that if she is.”
“Like Yvette said,” Armie chimed in, “Cherry might only want one night with him.”
Now they were just
baiting him. Cannon didn’t give them the satisfaction of reacting to that. “Just keep things respectable around my sister.”
Denver wanted to protest again, but Cannon turned on Armie. “My turn now.”
Armie tried to make a strategic retreat. “Sorry, dude. Gotta get back to—”
Cannon stepped around in front of him, blocking him with his body.
“Fine,” Armie groused, and then, “What?”
“You tell me.”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“The hell you don’t. Something’s going on, and I have a feeling it might have something to do with my sister and Cherry living alone.”
Armie stared him in the eye. “That was just random concern.”
“You are so full of it.”
Eyes narrowed, Armie leaned into him. “Why don’t you change into some shorts and we can work it out on the mat?”
Both men were surprised when Yvette suddenly returned and somehow wiggled between them. Cannon’s only complaint with her tactic was that she faced Armie.
“He can’t, sorry,” Yvette said, a little breathlessly given that Cannon touched all along her back.
“No?” Armie didn’t back up at all, so Cannon had no doubt they did a little touching around front, too. “Why not?”
Yvette squared her shoulders. “He has to drive me to the pawnshop.”
“Aw, now, doll, you’re stealing my thunder.”
Gently, hands flat to Armie’s bare chest, Yvette backed him off. “Not now, okay?”
Cannon stared down at the top of her head. “Yvette?”
Without glancing back at him, she asked, “Hmm?”
“Are you protecting me?” And with exaggerated disdain, “From Armie?”
Cannon knew she couldn’t miss the fat smiles Armie and Denver wore, but she had no clue she’d literally gained the attention of the entire gym until she turned and found everyone watching.
Her face went hot. “No,” she whispered low. “Of course not.”
“It’s unnecessary, you know.”
She went all prim and proper. “Well, of course two grown men wouldn’t get into an actual altercation over something so silly.”
“Yeah,” Armie said. “So silly.”
Rolling his eyes, Cannon put an arm around her shoulders and anchored her close as he spoke to Armie. “You going with us tonight?”