Matchmaker (DS Fight Club Book 7)

by Josie Kerr

  “I’m not through with you, Molly Mayhew. You should consider what’s best for you.”

  Molly had enough righteous fury to keep her emotions contained until Boone left the classroom, but as soon as he closed the door, she erupted in angry tears. Growing more furious at herself for crying, she let herself indulge in a few hysterics for five minutes. Then she wiped her eyes and headed to DS Fight Club because Buddy had mentioned they had self-defense classes. And she was determined to make sure that Boone Cash would never manhandle her again.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Buddy sat at a café table, his back to the wall so he could see Natalie come into Pickett & Spence, a popular Cabbagetown gastropub located a few blocks from DS Fight Club. He’d thought about telling her to go to Foley’s but then quickly dismissed that location. The thought of a potentially ugly meeting tainting the good memories he’d come to associate with the shabby Irish pub made him sick to his stomach.

  Of course, Natalie was late. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, resisting the urge to check the time again. Her habitual tardiness was one of the major points of contention in their relationship. Buddy had arrived at the gastropub right on time, hoping to be pleasantly surprised. He sighed, took a sip of his water, and tried to adjust his attitude. There was no need to go into this meeting with a shitty attitude.

  Natalie walked through the door twenty minutes later, pausing dramatically in the lobby. With a resigned sigh, Buddy stood up and waved to get her attention. Natalie lifted her chin in acknowledgment and made her way across the dining room. She was a striking woman, tall and thin, blonde and porcelain skinned.

  “Hello, Natalie,” he said, still standing.

  “Hello, Bud.” Natalie leaned over and floated her lips across his cheek. “I see you’ve grown the beard back. I always hated it. Makes you look older.” She patted his face and flashed him a brilliant smile. “It’s nice to see you.”

  “It’s nice to see you, too.” Buddy looked at his watch. “I have to be back soon, Nat, so we should get to it.” He motioned for her to be seated.

  “How’s our Lucy?” Natalie looked over the rim of her water glass at Buddy.

  “She’s great. Smart as a whip. Kind.” Buddy breathed a sigh of relief at Natalie’s inquiry about their child.

  Buddy spent the next minutes catching Natalie up on Lucy, and they made a tentative date for a late lunch at Foley’s on Saturday. The conversation turned to Buddy, and Natalie surprised him by knowing that he’d taken the matchmaker position at DS Fight Club.

  “I do keep up with the newsworthy gyms, Buddy. I don’t know why you’re so shocked. I’ve always been a fan.”

  Buddy bit back a snide remark, instead choosing to try to get to the bottom of this meeting. “So, Natalie, what did you want to ‘adult-talk’ with me about?”

  “I’m moving to Atlanta. I’ve already booked some modeling jobs, and I’ve got some auditions set up for next week. So much better than LA—such a rat race out there.”

  Buddy leaned back in his chair, studying her. So typical. She hadn’t come to Atlanta for Lucy at all; their little girl was simply a bonus to her acting career.

  “What’s that look, Bud?”

  He just shook his head. “I have to go.” He peeled some bills from his wallet and tossed them onto the table before standing up. “Three o’clock, Foley’s Public House on Saturday?” he asked.

  “Sure. And, Buddy, I know you probably don’t believe that I’m thrilled to be in a position where I can get to know our daughter. Hell, I’d be skeptical of me, too. But I am. Please give me a chance.”

  Buddy simply nodded and, with a wave, walked away from the table.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Buddy jogged through the door of DS Fight Club, where a visibly agitated woman was giving Nanda an earful. The normally jovial and gregarious gym manager’s mouth was drawn into a tight line, and she was nodding her head in agreement with whatever the woman was saying.

  “Mrs. Johnson, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Buddy began to apologize, ignoring Nanda’s facial expressions, which foretold of an unpleasant future interaction.

  “I’m sorry, too, but not as sorry as Matthew’s going to be when I get a hold of him.” Mrs. Johnson held up a piece of a paper.

  “Mrs. Johnson, please come into my office so we can talk.” Buddy smiled at her, but the woman seemed unimpressed; however, she went with him into his office. “Please have a seat.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to be here long enough to sit down, Mr. Thomas.”

  “Please, call me Buddy.”

  “No. I’m not your friend, and I most likely never will be. Matthew is not participating in this exposition, and he’s not going to be coming to this . . . fight club any longer. He told me he was doing extra wrestling practice after school.”

  “He is. Colin Carmichael was a champion collegiate wrestler—”

  “But this says it’s an MMA exposition, and that means a hell of a lot more than simply wrestling. And I’m not letting Matthew go down that path.”

  Mrs. Johnson was breathing heavily, and Buddy could see her hands were balled tightly into fists. He suspected that her objection to her son’s participation in an exposition match had nothing to do fighting at all.

  “Matthew’s very talented, Mrs. Johnson, as in he’s the most naturally gifted wrestler Colin and I have ever seen. Sure, he’s doing some combat sparring, but we’re concentrating mostly on things he can use in his scholastic matches. With the right training, he can go really far.”

  Mrs. Johnson sank down into a chair and exhaled loudly. Buddy pulled a bottle of water from the small refrigerator and offered it to the woman.

  “Thank you . . . Buddy.” Buddy sat in the chair opposite her and waited for her to speak.

  “It’s just the two of us, you know. It always has been. Matthew’s all I have. My parents passed a while ago, and Matthew’s father . . .” Mrs. Johnson twisted the top off the water bottle and took a long drink.

  “It’s just me and my daughter. I know how it is.”

  “How old is she?” Mrs. Johnson seemed calmer but no more relaxed.

  “She’s five, almost six. Kindergarten.” Buddy huffed a laugh. “She’s my whole world.”

  “So you understand that if anything happened . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “I do. I understand you don’t want to see him hurt, but you need to let him take risks. He’s a good kid, smart. He does well in school. We don’t let the guys participate if they don’t make their grades. Matthew is going to go far, regardless of what he does. But please let us work with him. He’s only in the ninth grade, but now’s the time to lay that groundwork for potential college scholarships.”

  “You sound like you know something about this,” she said with a small laugh.

  “Yes, I do. But only if you don’t hold him back. You’ll do your relationship more harm than good if you do.”

  “You sound like you know something about that, too.”

  Buddy only snorted in response.

  Mrs. Johnson heaved a big sigh. “Good Lord, this is exhausting,” she said with a near-hysterical laugh. “I’ll consider it. Letting him fight. But Matthew and I are going to have to have a big talk. A big, huge, gigantic talk.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson.”

  “Suki. Call me Suki.” She stuck out her hand, and Buddy clasped it firmly. “Now, I’ve got a garage to run, but when Matthew comes to practice tomorrow, he’ll have an answer for you.”

  Suki stood, and Buddy did as well, and they made their way to the front of the fight club.

  “Thank you, Suki. I know you’ll do what’s best for Matthew,” Buddy said when they got to the lobby area.

  She nodded. “I will. We’ll see you soon.” Suki turned and pushed open one side of the double doors that led into the fight club just as Maude and Lucy burst inside, in front of Sheila.

  “Daddy!” Lucy ran to Buddy and jumped up into his arms.

  “Hey, swee
t pea. Did you have a good day?” Buddy squeezed his daughter tightly and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

  “We have crabs, Daddy!”

  “Uh, what?”

  “In Miss Mayhew’s room! Hermit crabs!”

  “Oh, yeah. Okay. That’s neat!”

  She wriggled down. “I have to get ready for Tumbling with Tig. I’ll tell you all about the crabs at dinner.”

  “Sure enough,” he said with a laugh as he watched Lucy and Maude run back to his office to change.

  “You get Matthew’s mother sorted?” Colin had wandered out of his office when Buddy’s daughter had arrived at the fight club with Maude. Now he fixed Buddy with those piercing blue eyes. “Let’s go into the office. I wanna talk with you.”

  They sat down in Colin’s office, and Colin said, “Tell me.”

  Buddy recounted his conversation with Suki Johnson and, at the end, just shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s going to decide, but I’ll tell you what—I’m gonna be pissed if Matthew gets screwed out of an opportunity because of his mother’s hang-ups, whatever they are.” He clicked his tongue.

  “She means well,” Colin said with a huff. “The reality might end up being different, but she’s just looking out for her kid. Who wouldn’t want the best for their child?”

  Buddy snorted. He could name one fuck. He cracked his neck, and when he opened his eyes, he found Colin staring at him with an inquisitive look, one eyebrow arched.

  “I was just about to turn eighteen. It was fall of my senior year. There were supposed to be college scouts at a tournament. My old man had put money against me because the guy I was facing first thing had already signed with the University of Texas. The two days before, he barges into my room, blind drunk, and tells me if I don’t lose, he’s kicking me out. See, he and Coach had had words. Coach knew he’d been arranging illegal bare-knuckle fights. Coach showed up one night and literally pulled me out of the pit, costing my old man an assload of money.” Buddy barked a bitter laugh. “I’d been starving myself to make weight, so I was already pissed off. When I told Baylor to shove it, he threw a punch, I returned the favor, and soon, we were brawling.”

  Colin scoffed. “I swear to God if I ever meet your old man, it’s on.”

  “You’ll have to get in fuckin’ line, buddy.”

  “So what happened?”

  “He knocked me out during that fight. I woke up fifteen minutes before the tournament started. I jumped into the car and drove the hour to the high school where it was happening, praying that my match wouldn’t be early.”

  “But it was.”

  “Yeah.” Buddy closed his eyes, remembering that horrible, horrible day. “I missed the match, and unfortunately, Coach was out that day and the assistant that was there, well, he was tight with Baylor. I missed the match and was disqualified. I got into a huge screaming match with the assistant coach and got ejected from the tournament. When I got home, no one was there, all my stuff was in a pile in the front yard, and the locks were changed.”

  Colin was speechless for a long moment, but Buddy could see the red blotches creeping up the man’s neck while seemingly pulling all the color from his face.

  “Bailey doesn’t know this, does she?”

  Buddy shook his head and wiped the sweat from his own face with a shaking hand. “She’d been at a sleepover the night before, thank God, so she didn’t have to witness that beating.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Lived in my car for the next eight months. Worked odd jobs. Got my GED. Managed to get a job in Illinois and enough money to get to that job.”

  “Which is where you met Jett Raptor.”

  “Yep. And the rest you know.”

  “The rest I know.” Colin blew a breath out. “Fuckin’ A, man. That bastard put you through the wringer. I am so sorry, Buddy.”

  Buddy nodded once. “I appreciate the sympathy. Bailey and I will talk about it sometime.”

  “Sure. Y’all need to.” Colin cleared his throat. “Come to the house this weekend. We’ll cook out, kick back, relax.”

  “Oh, man.” Buddy scrubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah, not going to be possible. We’re going to a late lunch with Natalie.”

  “Natalie? Who’s—wait, Lucy’s mother?” Colin gaped at Buddy. His expression grew more incredulous as Buddy related their meeting, and Buddy was once again thankful that his sister had found such a caring lifemate.

  “Dude, you have had a hell of a day. Why don’t you take off? I’ll drop Lucy off when she finishes with tumbling class.”

  “Nah, she’s almost done, but thanks.” Buddy got up and made to leave but then turned around. “I mean it, C. Thanks.”

  Colin inclined his head, and Buddy slipped out of the big former champion’s office and headed to his own to have a small nervous breakdown.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Molly chewed her lip as she looked at the self-defense class listings. The new class sessions didn’t start for a few weeks, but she supposed she could wait even though she didn’t want to. Even so, there seemed to be a lot of options. Who knew which one would be best?

  “Can I answer any questions for you?” The gym manager gave Molly a friendly grin.

  “Um, you’ve got a lot of classes that are for women only. Which one would be appropriate for someone like me?”

  “Well, what are your goals? What are you looking for, specifically?”

  “Um . . .” Molly felt her face heat. She didn’t want to confess her probably delusional fears about Boone. It was embarrassing to admit that she was forty years old and couldn’t take care of herself, that she didn’t have enough sense to realize how horrible the person she was involved with was until it was too late.

  Nanda’s expression softened. “There are a lot of options available, everything from personal training sessions and nutrition consultations to group classes. We can do a combination of them as well. You seem to be looking at the classes . . . ?” Her voice drifted off, leaving Molly to answer.

  “Um, yes. The self-defense classes are what I’m interested in, but I see the new session doesn’t start until next—” Molly was interrupted when a small body crashed into her legs.

  “Miss Mayhew! Miss Mayhew!” Lucy and Maude bounced around her.

  “Hey, girls. Where have you been?” she said with a chuckle.

  “We were at Tumbling with Tig,” Lucy piped up.

  “Tumbling with Tig, Tumbling with Tig!” Maude chanted.

  “Girls, let’s get changed because—oh, Molly. Hello.”

  Molly turned to find Buddy standing at the end of the long, high counter. She’d known he was in shape, but seeing him in a tank top and a pair of fitted pants illustrated just how fit he actually was. Holy cow.

  “Hey, Buddy.” Molly inwardly cringed at the tone of her voice. Desperate much?

  They stood there, eyes locked, until Buddy grinned and gestured at the piece of paper Molly still held firmly in her hands. “Investigating the offerings of DS Fight Club?”

  “Oh, um, yes. I was thinking about some of the classes you told me about this weekend, and I decided to look into something.”

  “So you two know each other?” Nanda asked, leaning on the desk and looking between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match.

  “I’m Lucy and Maude’s teacher,” Molly quietly said.

  “Oh, really. Huh.” Nanda looked pointedly at Buddy. “She needs to know about self-defense classes.”

  “And just general fitness classes. I need to get into better shape,” Molly quickly added.

  “There’s not a thing wrong with the shape you’re in,” Buddy murmured.

  Molly’s eyes popped wide. Did she hear him right? He grinned lopsidedly and shrugged, so yeah, she guessed she actually did. Huh.

  But his demeanor abruptly changed when she answered his question about self-defense classes—that she was living by herself in a house, not in an apartment complex where her neighbors would know if
something happened to her.

  “You have an alarm system?” He frowned at her when she shook her head. “What about a dog?”

  “I do have a dog, and she looks really intimidating, but she’s a big softie.” She gave him a weak grin, but she could tell he wasn’t impressed. At all.

  “What are you doing Saturday morning?”

  “Uh . . . my mother and I go to breakfast on Saturday.”

  “Cancel it. I’m coming over and installing some window and door alarms.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I’ve got them in my house. I’ll put them in yours. Plus I’ve got a security sign to put in your front yard. Studies have shown that signs are almost as effective a deterrent as an actual alarm.”

  “Well . . .”

  “We’ll get the house set up, and you and Bridget can do some one-on-one training until the self-defense class starts.”

  Molly opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, but when Buddy grabbed a calendar and started penciling workout times, she had had enough.

  “Just hold on a second, Mr. Thomas,” she stated in her best teacher voice. Buddy stopped midsentence, and Molly could see Nanda’s barely contained grin out of the corner of her eye. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need you taking control of everything. I’m quite capable of setting up my own schedule and alarm system.”

  “I’d like to come over and see if your doors and windows need any reinforcement. I used to do construction. I know what I’m doing.”

  Molly rolled her eyes. She was sure he did, but his approach to this bugged her. She wasn’t about to let herself get sucked into a relationship with another domineering man.

  Wait? Relationship?

  She must have paused too long, because Buddy cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly.

  “Oh, all right. I suppose it’s a good idea to let an expert check me out.”

  Nanda snorted a choked laugh, and when Buddy and Molly both treated her to hostile glares, she cleared her throat and tried to look innocent. Buddy turned away first. Nanda grinned again, and Molly thought she detected the slightest eyebrow wiggle. Oh boy.