by Lori Foster
“I kept a roof over his head.”
“Barely.” If Cannon thought it would work, he’d offer Mac ten times what Armie paid him—for him to stay away. But he’d always come sniffing around if he thought there was a buck to be made.
“Feeling sorry for him?” Mac sneered.
“Armie? No.” He straightened. “You’re the one who’s missed out on everything. I feel sorry for you.”
As he walked away, Cannon heard Mac say, “I don’t need your pity, damn you! Tell him I don’t need his, either. Tell him—”
Cannon stopped listening. He couldn’t tell Armie anything he didn’t already know.
* * *
THERE IN THE AUDIENCE, front row, sitting with their group, Merissa stared toward him. Beside her, Bray squirreled around in his seat as he cheered.
“Not the time,” Simon snarled.
Right. He bounced on the balls of his feet, his muscles warm and loose. Music blared, bright lights burned down on him and already sweat beaded out of every pore.
Again he looked at Merissa.
“Jesus,” Simon said. “Now you’re smiling? At least the camera loves you.”
Armie glanced at the Jumbotron and sure enough, his face filled the massive screen. Hamming it up and making Simon happy, Armie put a fist in the air.
The audience roared.
Carter Fletcher walked in to a hard rock song. Some of those cheers were for him. Well deserved, Armie knew.
Cannon, Simon and Havoc were all telling him different things, doing different things.
Armie just wanted out there.
This was how he felt when fighting. Anticipation. Joy. He’d never thought to feel this at the SBC level, but other than how he felt for Rissy now, it was all the same.
This was his zone. A part of who he was.
Cannon said something to him and he nodded, his gaze glued to Carter.
They called a start to the fight. Rules were read and agreed to. He and Carter were both ready.
Armie touched fists with Chaos and they both began the dance.
They exchanged blows and a few kicks, but Armie was timing himself, waiting for an opening. When Carter threw a kick, Armie caught his leg, tucked his ankle into his armpit, and put pressure on the inside of his knee so that Carter went down.
They both scrambled, but Armie hit him once, twice, throwing all his strength behind the punches. Methodical. Fast.
When Chaos shifted, going for a submission, Armie’s instinct was to stand back and let him up. But in the back of his mind he remembered what Dakota had told him. Yeah, that was probably the move Chaos expected.
Instead, Armie shifted with him. They rolled, and Armie came up in the dominant position again. He threw an elbow that caught Carter just beneath the brow bone.
A few more blows and Armie had the full mount, free to rain down heavy hits. A cut on Carter’s eyelid made a slippery mess that looked a hell of a lot worse than it was. The ref hovered over them, ready to call a halt.
Carter said, “I’m okay,” and rather than cover up, he threw his own punches, leaving his face open to more punishment.
Armie landed yet another elbow, one more—
Suddenly the ref tackled him, saying, “It’s over, it’s over.”
The arena went nuts.
Fists in the air, Armie grinned—for about two seconds before Cannon had him half lifted in the air. Havoc and Simon were there, laughing, clapping him on the back.
The audience stayed on their feet, the cheers nearly deafening.
Bloodied but far from done, Carter sat up cursing, but only for a second. Like any professional he pushed to his feet and allowed the doctors to clear away the blood.
Lights went off in a strobe effect but Armie still found Rissy in the audience. She had her uninjured arm in the air as she shouted her happiness. Bray jumped up and down like a wild monkey.
All in all, it was pretty damned great.
When things finally settled down he went over to talk to Carter, who embraced him. “We need to do this again.”
Armie nodded. “Anytime.” He lifted Carter’s arm and the audience went crazy all over again.
Cannon dragged a shirt over his head and Armie remembered he was supposed to be touting Jude’s sports gear. Showing off the shirt, he mugged for the cameras until the commentator pulled him front and center.
At first they talked about the fight—and Armie gave Dakota her due, which made Carter pretend to collapse on the mat. Everyone cracked up over that.
“Seriously,” Armie said. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
Simon put his head in his hands, but he was laughing, too.
“Mostly, I’ve got great coaches and a best friend who kept me in line and got me ready. A man is only as good as his team.”
There were more cheers for that sentiment.
Lastly the commentator asked, “So what’s next?”
Armie grinned. “Well, I’m hoping to marry Saint’s little sis.”
The commentator blinked at him. “What’s this? Marriage?”
“She asked and I said yes.”
The camera switched to Rissy. Eyes damp and one hand over her mouth, she nodded.
Going with it, the commentator asked, “What does Saint have to say about this?”
As Cannon bounded into the cage, the audience loved it—because they loved him.
When Cannon reached Armie, he put his fists up. Laughing, Armie pretended to duck—then Cannon pulled him into a bear hug.
“So you approve?” the commentator asked him.
“Hell, yeah.” His arm draped over Armie’s shoulders, Cannon grinned. “I want my sister to have the best. That’s Armie.”
Armie smiled toward Rissy.
“He’s always been my brother,” Cannon said. “Now it’ll finally be legit.”
* * *
CURLED IN BED, which happened to be Armie’s favorite location with Rissy, they talked about the exclusive he’d be giving tomorrow, which Jude had arranged. What really surprised Armie was finding out that the reporter had received testimonials from the guys at the rec center, from Bray and his parents, from Kizzie and some of the other women.
And even from Lea herself.
Half the neighborhood had wanted it known that he was a good guy. He hadn’t realized his heart could hold so much love and appreciation, but damn, he liked it.
Finally, once and for all, the rumors would be destroyed.
After that, they’d segued into wedding plans. Armie couldn’t wait to have her tied to him, but he wanted her to have whatever type of wedding she wanted—be it simple or elaborate, large or small.
While she went over her preferences, she seemed to inspect every inch of him, finding marks from his fight that he hadn’t been aware of. He didn’t complain. Rissy’s attention was always a turn-on. He just wasn’t sure how much more he could take before tucking her under him and making them both nuts with release.
“So you don’t mind if we keep it just our family and friends?”
He didn’t have family—except that the guys at the gym were all that and more, better than any blood tie could ever be. “Whatever you want is okay by me.”
“So agreeable.” She kissed a bruise on his cheekbone. “You looked so handsome in your tux at Cannon’s wedding. Would you mind wearing one for ours?” She wrinkled her nose. “I sort of want the fancy white dress.”
“You will be killer-hot in a fancy white dress and I can rock a tux again, no problem.” He’d do anything for her, except let her go.
Next she kissed his ribs. “I don’t want to assume, but Cannon will be your best man?”
“He’s been that since we were in high school, so yeah.”
That made her happy and she smiled as she teased her lips over a spot on his abdomen. “Shouldn’t we put something on this?”
Grinning, he said, “I can make a suggestion.”
“Ice?”
“I was thinking of something
warmer. Maybe even hot.” Holding her gaze, he trailed a hand down her side to her hip, then in to her still-flat belly and down until he curled his hand over the hottest part of her.
With a sigh, she said, “You are so bad.”
“Yeah, but apparently you like me that way.”
“I love you—any way you want to be.”
Armie carefully turned her under him. Now that a week had passed, her arm was much better and the bruising on her face had faded enough that she could cover it with makeup.
Since they were fresh from the shower, he could make out each faint mark. Her hair fell back, showing the stitches that would come out tomorrow.
Steve, Keno and Boyd were being held without bail. They wouldn’t be a problem for Rissy or anyone else for a very long time. Far as Armie was concerned, they could all three rot.
Rather than dwell on that and how it made him feel, he’d rather concentrate on his future with Rissy.
She’d taken the pregnancy test and was, indeed, carrying his baby. His and Cannon’s kids would be very close in age.
And they both loved it.
“I need to set an appointment with the tattoo parlor.”
She smiled up at him. “For what now?”
“Gotta get the one on my back altered.”
Her lips parted and her eyes went wide. “Altered how?”
He’d never explained the significance of that particular tat, but it felt like a good time for spilling the truth. “You hold my heart now, so the thorns have to go.”
She blinked. “That was about me?”
“My whole life has been about you, Rissy. For so long, it seemed I could never have what I wanted most.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Hell, I love you so much, you are my life.”
Her eyes went liquid.
He’d never get used to this weepier side of her, but she claimed it was the pregnancy and he believed her.
“I had a heart,” he told her, after kissing away her tears. “But it wasn’t free until you forced your way into my apartment and ignored my idiotic objections.”
“And I took off my pants.”
He smiled. “Yeah, that helped.” His hand covered her belly. “You started talking about sex—and spanking—and you destroyed my determination to leave you be.”
She softened. “I’m so glad I did.”
He cupped her face. “I never knew life could be this good.”
“I knew,” she bragged. “Why do you think I didn’t give up?”
Thank God she hadn’t. Ready to tease her, he said, “So since we’ll be living here in your house, can I bring over my big mirror? It’d look nice on the wall at the end of your bed.”
Rissy pushed him to his back and climbed over him. “No.” She took his mouth in a lusty kiss. “But the Velcro handcuffs are welcome.”
* * * * *
Leese, Justice, Brand and Miles
from the Ultimate crew
will return in an all-new BODY ARMOR series,
coming soon.
Meanwhile, read on for
an exclusive excerpt of
DON’T TEMPT ME,
a brand-new novel
from Lori Foster
and HQN Books...
Don't Tempt Me
by Lori Foster
HONOR BROWN WASN’T USED to eating with three men. It astounded her how fast the pizza got devoured. But then, she’d pretty much inhaled her own slice, too. Working up a hunger through unpacking all her belongings, it seemed, overshadowed other concerns—like feeling self-conscious and knowing she was an intruder despite her new neighbors’ efforts to put her at ease.
They all chatted easily, except for Jason who seemed introspective. He’d gone from staring to teasing, to warning, and now quiet.
At first she’d worried that she might have offended him. But how? Not by asking that he wear a shirt, because that was a request he’d ignored.
The man was still half naked.
And it couldn’t have been from accepting his help unloading her furniture, because he was the one who’d bullied his way in and insisted on...being wonderful.
She rubbed at her temples. When she’d imagined neighbors, she’d never imagined any like these.
“You okay?” Jason’s nephew Colt asked.
A fast smile, meant to reassure the teen, only amplified the headache. “Yes. Just a little tired.”
“She works too much.” Lexie shoulder-bumped her. “I’ve tried to get her to play a little, too, but she’s the original party pooper.”
Lexie, at least, seemed right at home. But then she always did. Confident, beautiful and fun—that described her best friend.
They were polar opposites.
As if she’d known the guys forever, Lexie had heckled Hogan, teased Colt and praised Jason. Repeatedly she put her head back and drew in deep breaths, closing her eyes as she did so. Honor understood that. It was like being in a park with the scents of freshly mowed lawn, earth, flowers and trees all around them. Jason’s backyard was a half acre, same as hers. But while hers was nearly impassable with weeds, his was park perfect.
A gigantic elm kept them shaded, and with the help of an occasional gentle breeze, the summer day became more comfortable. Honor glanced around at the neatly mulched flower beds, the velvet green grass and the well-maintained outdoor furniture. His garage was spectacular, matching his house. Every so often she caught the faint scent of oil, gasoline and sawdust.
She also smelled sun-warmed, hard-working male. Not at all unpleasant.
“Where do you work?” Colt asked.
“She’s a stylist,” Lexie offered. With a nod at Jason, she said, “Honor could do all sorts of amazing things with your hair.”
Honor choked on her last sip of Coke.
Unaffected, Jason ran a hand through the dark waves. “I have a barber, but don’t make it there as often as I should.”
“He’s always working,” Colt said. “He’s usually out there in the garage before Dad and I even get out of bed.”
“Good thing messy looks so sexy on him, then, huh?”
Colt laughed. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Lexie half turned to face the garage. “You guys have a lot of vehicles.”
“The blue truck is mine,” Colt told her. “Dad drives the motorcycle. Or when it rains, he takes the Escort. Uncle Jason has his own truck, the red newer one, and the gray SUV. The flatbed truck he uses for deliveries.”
Wow, so many vehicles. Honor glanced over and saw that the two-story garage also housed a fishing boat on a trailer, and another, older truck parked front and center.
“Who drives that one?” Lexie asked.
With something close to hero-worship, Colt said, “Uncle Jason was hired to work on it.”
“Hired?”
“Yeah, that’s what he does. He fixes things. He’s really good, too. All these old houses? They’re always needing something repaired and usually Uncle Jason can do it. Everyone around Clearbrook hires him for stuff.”
“Sounds like it keeps him busy.”
Colt snorted. “Yeah, sometimes too busy.”
“I don’t mind.” Jason’s gaze cut to Honor and his voice deepened. “I enjoy working with my hands.”
Honor felt like he’d just stroked her. She caught her breath, shifted in her seat and tried to think of something to say.
Clearly tickled, Lexie looked back and forth between them. “So you’re a handyman?”
Again, Colt bragged. “More like a contractor. He can build things from the ground up, including the plumbing and electrical. Or make stuff like custom gates or unique shutters, or repair just about anything.”
“Nice,” Lexie praised.
“He’s a jack-of-all-trades.” Hogan toasted Jason with his Coke. “Whatever’s broke, Jason can fix it.”
Jason gave him a long look. “Maybe not everything.”
“Right. Can’t fix big brothers, can you?”
Tipping
his head slightly back, as if he’d taken that on the chin, Jason replied, “I only have one older brother, and far as I’m concerned, he’s not broken.”
Colt went silent, and God, Honor felt for him. Too many times she, too, had been caught up in the middle of squabbles.
“So with the truck,” Lexie said, interrupting the heavy tension, “are you doing engine or body work?”
Before Jason could answer, Hogan said, “Why are you so curious, anyway?”
Lexie leveled him with a direct stare. “I was making conversation.”
With a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan, Hogan sat forward. “We already covered that he can do anything.”
“Anything is a big word. I mean, can he get the stick out of your butt? Because seriously, you’re being a pill.”
“He does both,” Colt cut in, clearly anxious to keep things friendly. “Uncle Jason I mean. You asked about the truck?”
Lexie gave Colt a genuine smile. “So I did.”
“He does body and engine work. But this time Uncle Jason’s just tricking it out some.”
Honor watched the back and forth conversation, noting the indulgent way Jason looked at his nephew, while also feeling the growing tension from Hogan. But why?
The quiet smothered her, especially with the palpable acrimony now flowing between Hogan and Lexie. After clearing her throat, Honor asked, “Is that what we interrupted when we first got here? You were working on the truck?”
Jason shook his head. “Tractor.” He nodded toward the side of the garage. “The owner of the truck is making up his mind between two options I gave him. Today I was repairing the tractor, but it needs a part I won’t have until tomorrow. I’m at a standstill on both projects so you didn’t really interrupt. I was already done for the day.”
Hogan ran a hand over his face, popped his neck and finally worked up a smile. “He built the garage a few years back.”
“You helped,” Jason reminded him.
“By help, he means I followed directions. No idea where Jason got the knack because our dad wasn’t the handy sort. But if there’s an upside to us staying with him right now, it’s that he’s teaching Colt.”
“And Colt does appear to have the knack,” Jason added.
Both Honor and Lexie looked at the garage with new eyes. Wow. Just...wow.