The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2)

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The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2) Page 3

by North, Leslie


  She clicked her seatbelt and glanced at him. “Hey, I don’t want to offend the one person that might be able to persuade Dustin to stop this foolish…I mean.”

  “Great, you’re going to insult my sport now.” He grinned at her and put the truck in gear.

  Mason drove and tried to keep his mouth shut so he could ignore the woman next to him. But her scent filled the truck with something flowery and sweet. And how could he not notice that profile—the straight nose, those killer cheekbones and those shadowed eyes.

  Since his last fight, he’d been doing without any female company. The family martial arts school and training Dustin were taking all his energy and time—not to mention his own recovery work. That hadn’t been a problem, until now. He’d just have to hope she works things out fast with Dustin. He didn’t need her kind of distraction right now.

  Maybe after my next fight I could call her up and we could spend some time together. He almost laughed at himself. As if she’d ever hook up with a fighter, given the way she felt about the MMA. She was more likely to tell him to go punch himself.

  Mason turned off the main highway and started up the road to Ander’s training camp. Five miles of winding road needed most of his attention, but not all of it. He’d driven this road every day for months now.

  As they neared the compound, he wondered what she might find in the training gym. Today was Friday, which meant that several of the local fighters had arrived for some sparring practice. That meant Dustin would more than likely be in the ring. Hopefully faring better than last week.

  The kid was over-confident in his ground game. He’d been sparing, Mason knew, with one of the local fighters who didn’t have the same handicap. The last session, Dustin had found himself on his back, his hands up as he tried to stave off the multiple elbows, hammer fists, and punches to his headgear.

  His protective gear had kept Dustin from coming out of the first round a bloody mess. But he’d gotten himself two black eyes. It wouldn’t be great if Avery walked in on Dustin getting pounded again. Which means he should probably prep her for meeting the guys, and a few bruises on her brother, just in case.

  “Dustin should be in the training gym with some of the other fighters. I’ll be happy to take you over there, but…I need you to promise me you won’t over react.”

  Avery looked at him and narrowed her eyes before asking, “What’s your definition of over reaction?”

  Mason glanced at her and then back to the road as he pulled into the driveway that opened out into the parking area, “Dustin’s been working hard, but he got bested last week. His headgear protected him, but he came out of it with some bruising. Are you going to faint at the sight of blood?”

  She pulled in a sharp breath. He noticed her gloved hands clench. “Some bruising? And you keep telling me this is a safe sport.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and then said, “If Dustin’s gotten a few bruises, maybe it’ll help convince him to give this up.”

  Parking up in front of the main gym, a large barn-shaped building, Mason got out. Avery didn’t wait for him to open her door. She hopped out and glanced around. Mason did, too, wondering what she thought of the place.

  Rustic and rambling Terry Ander’s training camp offered up a large log cabin for the main building, with a wide wrap-around porch, several porch swings, and a large stack of firewood off to one side. Smoke rose from the cabin and yellow lights glowed in the windows with welcoming warmth. The gym sat in the middle of the compound.

  A few other trucks were parked out front. Shadows swallowed up most of the pines, leaving them inky giants that blocked the stars starting to pop. The silence of the place soaked into Mason, and the crisp air stung his lungs. The setting was paradise, even covered in snow.

  Avery gestured to the six smaller log cabins where the fighters bunked. “How many people are here?”

  Mason counted up the cars and trucks and then shrugged. “Looks like enough for a full house. Hey, no need to be nervous. The more people around the less likely your brother’s going to lose his cool, right?”

  She chewed on her bottom lip.

  Mason watched her nibble on that lush bottom lip of hers. He stifled a groan. That’s what he’d like to be doing—getting a taste of those lips. Reaching out, he touched his thumb to the corner of her mouth. “You’re going to freeze your mouth, you keep that up.” He saw her stiffen so he pulled away and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Looks like the next batch of fighters are here. Including Dustin and myself, and the local boys, there’s probably around fifteen guys here, plus the trainers.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide. “That’s a lot.”

  “You should see it in summer. How about we go in and let Dustin know you’re here. Then we’ll see about snagging you a bed?”

  Bed…yeah, that’s where he’d like to see her. An imaged flashed of her naked and that glorious hair of hers spread over white sheets. The picture seemed far too vivid—all that pale skin and golden hair. He shifted his weight and pushed the fantasy away. She wasn’t a ring girl looking for fun, and he wasn’t looking for female trouble. Better to just let her and Dustin work out their differences so she could head home.

  Avery nodded and said, “Yeah, that sounds like a really good idea.”

  Turning, Mason led the way into the gym. He told himself he was not going to look back at her, he was not going to let those lost eyes of her drag him into anything, and he was going to make sure Dustin handled this.

  But then he had to stop and open the gym door for her, and he glanced at her. Her eyes seemed huge and worried. Mason mentally kicked himself, because every time he looked at her all his good intentions to stay clear of her went out the door. He knew he was going to end up playing referee between Avery and her brother.

  Chapter Five

  Avery stepped into the brightly lit gym and stopped. Heat washed over her. She pulled off her woolen cap and gloves and started to unbutton her coat. The musty odor of sweat and leather hung in the air, and loud rock music bounced off the walls. Van Halen she thought. She glanced at Mason and hollered, “Is it always this loud?”

  He grinned and nodded. “When they’re not sparring, you bet.” He glanced around and strode toward what looked like a ring. Avery glanced around. She could see a few guys in sweats, working out with weights. One guy stood in front of a punching bag and another was doing pushups. But she didn’t see Dustin. She let out a breath. Maybe he had already wised up and had listened to her. She hung onto the thought. She’d be more than happy if this trip turned out to be wasted time.

  Glancing at Mason, she saw him frown. He waved to a couple of the guys and headed to an older man with gray hair who had a towel around his neck. The older man couldn’t be one of the fighters, but was he Terry Anders, or the other guy Mason had mentioned earlier?

  “Hey, Tavvy. Where’s Dustin? I thought he’d be here.”

  Tavvy stepped forward. He had kindly brown eyes, Avery thought, and a wiry body. He looked far too nice to be a trainer. He faced her and extended his hand. “Who’s this you’ve brought to brighten up the gym with?”

  Avery shook the older man’s hand. “Avery Caldwell. I’m Dustin’s sister.”

  Tavvy swapped a look with Mason, his eyebrows raised. Mason gave a slight shrug, and Avery wondered what those short-hand gestures meant between the two men. They obviously knew each other very well.

  For a moment, she wondered if it was good for Dustin to have guys like these around. Edward’s death had hit Dustin hard, leaving him touchy and moody at times. After their parents had died, Edward had become the dad in the family—up until his death, too.

  Dustin had never wanted to talk about it, but she knew Dustin took it hard. There were times she thought Dustin was trying to make himself into Edward. That that was why he’d taken up MMA fighting. She had to make him see he was meant for more than that—that he had other talents he could use.

  Tavvy gave her a broad smile, shook her hand a
nd nodded to the side. “Mason, could I speak with you for a brief moment? Ma’am, good to meet you.”

  Turning to Avery, Mason waved at the gym. “Go on and take a look around. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  *****

  Mason followed Tavvy a short distance away and asked, “Okay, so where’s our golden boy?”

  “Ain’t here. That gal he’s been spending his free time with saw you and his sister in the diner. She called up here to talk to Dustin and mentioned seeing you with someone. She described Dustin’s sister to a tee and he took off like the hounds of hell were on his heels. I’ve never seen a man strip off his sparring gear so fast!”

  “Damn. All she wants to do is talk to him—and he bolts like some kind of total wimp!” He glanced at Avery and back to Tavvy. “She’s here to try and convince him to come home because MMA fighting is dangerous.”

  Tavvy gave a snort and rolled his eyes. “As if living ain’t? I tried to talk to Dustin, get him to stay. All he’d do was curse and say some rather colorful words about what a meddling piece of work his sister was. I was expecting the Wicked Witch of the West to come pounding in here, ready to take scalps if she didn’t get what she wanted.”

  “Any idea where he went?” Mason asked, turning back to watch Avery. She had walked to the edge of the gym and kept her arms folded, staying clear of the fighters. Her forehead wrinkled and he could see sweat sheen her nose and cheeks. She needed to take her coat off, but was glad she didn’t.

  Once the guys here saw her figure and all that beautiful hair, they’d be falling over themselves to do a lot more than just say hi to her. “What am I supposed to tell his sister? That her brother’s vanished? She’s really going to think we’re taking care of Dustin then.”

  “Well, now. That I don’t rightly know. You could send her packing for the night and have her come back tomorrow.”

  Mason shook his head. “Can’t do. She doesn’t have a place to stay, so I figured she could bunk in Dustin’s cabin in the second bedroom.” Glancing down at the floor, Tavvy shook his head and tried to hide a grin. Mason sighed and asked, “Okay, why is that not a good idea?”

  “These guys brought one extra with them. I put him in the second bedroom in Dustin’s cabin.”

  Mason dug a hand through his hair. “Great. So where am I supposed to put her?”

  Tavvy grinned. “You have the only extra bed on the premises. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are still here visiting Mr. Anders, and they’re using his daughter’s room.”

  Mason’s mouth dried. “The last thing I need is to spend even more time with her. I’m already having a hard time keeping my hands to myself as it is!”

  “Oh, come on. A big boy like you? Haven’t you learned restraint by now? I hear it’s good for the soul.”

  Shaking his head, Mason punched Tavvy’s arm. “If it’s so good, why don’t I give her your room and you can bunk with me?”

  Tavvy held up his hands. “Son, I don’t give up my bed or my room for no one, no way. Besides, I need to be close to Mr. Anders in case he needs me, you know that. Now, go work that charming personality of yours on her to see if you can smooth some ruffled feathers, ‘cause I’m pretty sure she’s going to be more than unhappy to find out Dustin bailed on her. Dumb-ass kid! I almost think maybe she’s right about him. Running out like this is the kind of stunt a teenager pulls, not a grown man!”

  Mason nodded. And Tavvy was right. Guys who wanted to train to fight in the MMA needed to manage their private lives like an adult. Fighting was tough work meant for adults. It wasn’t a sport for kids who only wanted to pretend to be grown up.

  “Dustin and I are going to have a nice long talk about responsibilities. When I find him that is. Do you think he’s hiding out with that gal from town?”

  “Sharla? Probably. Her dad has a cabin on the other side of the lake. I could ask around tomorrow when I go into town. By the way, I already tried calling the kid’s phone. Found it ringing away in his locker. He tore out of here so fast, he left most of his stuff in his locker, so don’t think you can nail him that way.”

  “Man, he is just racking up the ways I’m going to make him pay when I finally get him back in the ring!”

  Tavvy grinned. “Well, don’t let his sister see you pounding that boy. Not unless you want her screaming at you.”

  “Or fainting on me,” Mason muttered. He was a firm believer in learning from your mistakes. But he had the feeling he’d made a big one by ever getting mixed up in this family argument. He couldn’t see a way out of this now. “Guess I better go get this over with. Not only do I have to tell her Dustin’s flown the coop, but I also get to invite her to share my cabin for the night. She’s going to love that.”

  Tavvy laughed. “What are you complaining about? She’s gorgeous. Turn on that famous Burton charm and you should be just fine. In fact, you should have no problem at all getting her to think about something other than her missing brother. A little wine. Steaks on the grill maybe?”

  Mason shook his head. “We already ate. And she hates fighters. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up sleeping in my truck or on the sofa in the lodge.” Turning, he put on his best smile and thought, Here goes nothing!

  Chapter Six

  From the corner of her eyes, Avery watched Mason approach. She had to admit to a certain fascination with fighters as they trained. She could see a lot of muscle and skin on display, and the way they moved around each other almost looked like dancing.

  Both young men on the mats had taken turns being the aggressor. Avery watched them go through the various physical movements. It was compelling in a way, and if this was as far as it went, she’d have no trouble with Dustin and this sport. But she thought of Edward and shivered.

  “Think you could pull off those moves?” Mason asked. He came up next to her at the edge of the mats.

  “Me?” She shook her head. “I’d probably faint before I could even think about escaping!”

  “Oh, I bet you could do more than you think. Especially if you were afraid and your fight or flight response kicked in. Adrenaline’s a wonderful thing during times of intense stress.”

  Avery looked at him. “Really? I thought it only gave you a quick burst of energy.”

  “It does. But is also increases your heart rate and breathing. That can translate into strength, endurance, and even the ability to temporarily ignore pain.” She pulled back. He smiled and waved at the fighters. “Mostly, it just gives you that little bit of extra umph needed.”

  “That ignoring pain stuff—is that why some fighters continue to fight even after their face has been turned to hamburger?”

  “Where’d you see that? I thought you weren’t a fan of the sport?”

  “How can you ignore something that’s all over cable TV these days? And there are the videos, and the commercials for fights. I get that its big business, but it seems to me the fighters are the ones being exploited.”

  “They’re making money, too. But…well, you don’t fight to fight. There are a lot of reasons guy get into the ring. And sometimes…well, sometimes it’s just sheer determination—you have to keep going to prove to yourself that you can. You learn after lots of experience how to ignore certain things.”

  She punched a hand into her coat pocket. “Like blood running into your eyes, or dripping off of your opponent onto your chest, or the inability to see out of your eye because it’s completely swollen shut?” She said, glancing at the scar under his eye “How many times have you been injured fighting?”

  “Enough. Nothing real serious though. But nice try there to try and get me to see your point of view and switch sides. Except that’s never going to happen.”

  “Really? I’m not sure you and I would agree upon what constitutes a serious injury. So where’s Dustin?”

  “About that, let’s step outside. The music’s starting to give me a headache.”

  She smiled. “Really? Don’t you listen to it this loud when you’re training?” Avery asked. She foll
owed him back outside, pulling her coat tight as the cold air hit her face and stung her skin.

  “Yeah. Mostly it helps me focus on what I’m doing. Having the music loud keeps the guys from talking too much, and makes them pay attention to the training task in front of them.”

  Avery shivered. She glanced back at the gym and then at Mason. “I can see that part of it. My first semester of college, I couldn’t study in my dorm room if it was quiet. I’d turn on both the television and the radio.”

  He gave a laugh. He had a good one—deep and genuine. “Sounds chaotic.”

  “That’s what my roommate said! If my parents hadn’t…” She let the words trail off. She didn’t want to remember that time. The hole that the loss of her folks had left inside her. Her asthma had kicked up again then.

  She’d had an inhaler as a kid, but she’d thought she’d grown out of it. And then she’d started losing her family. It had seemed as if her chest had been crushed by those losses—leaving her always gasping for air. Now, here, in the crisp cold air, she could feel a tickle in her chest—a little shortness of breath. Cold always kicked it up again.

  Mason led the way toward the larger building—what seemed to be the main lodge. Thankfully, he didn’t pick up on the comment she had let drop about her parents. “You didn’t get along with your roommate?” he asked.

  She glanced at the snow. She was glad it had stopped coming down. About a half an inch of new powder over the surrounding landscape. She glanced at Mason—why was he being so friendly now? And where was Dustin? She shook her head. “No, we did. But she was a morning person. My first class wasn’t until ten most days and I liked to stay up late studying. So our schedules didn’t mesh too well.”

  “That sucks. Did you finish your degree?”

  Avery stopped in the middle of the parking lot. “Why are you’re stalling? Where is Dustin?”

  Mason grinned and shook his head. “How about some coffee?”

 

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