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

by North, Leslie

  Oh, not a good thought. Now he was hard and aching again with the worst case of blue balls ever. He was going to explode if something didn’t happen soon.

  But what?

  She seemed to be doing better with watching her brother train, but she still wouldn’t watch fight tapes. And he could always tell when she started to worry—her inhaler came out and her breath shortened. It took everything inside him not to pick her up and hold her close—and not to tell Dustin to just forget it.

  Hell, no wonder Dustin had been so worried about facing his sister. It wasn’t her yelling that was the problem. No, it was when she turned those big eyes on you, and her face paled, and the tears glistened—that was enough to tear a guy up.

  What he really needed was to blow off some steam. And since he didn’t have a fight, he grabbed Bryant and Dustin and told them they were getting on the bikes and heading out to the salt flats.

  *****

  Alice raised her glass to take a drink of her iced tea, the ring on her finger captured Avery’s attention. Grabbing Alice’s hand, she asked, “Is that what I think it is?”

  Wiggling her finger, Alice nodded. “Bryant asked me last night. He’s telling his brothers this afternoon on their ride. That and also that in approximately seven and a half months we’ll be bringing a new little life into the world!”

  Avery squealed with delight. “A baby? How great. Mason’s going to make a great uncle. What ride did the guys go on?”

  “Oh, Mason pulled your brother and Bryant out to the salt flats for a ride. But tell me…how are you doing about the fight that’s coming up? I haven’t seen the inhaler out for a couple of days.”

  Avery took a deep breath. “I still don’t know if I’m going to be able to sit and watch the fight. I’d like to support Dustin, but I think I might pass out.”

  Leaning forward, Alice started to say something, but her cell phone rang. She answered and said, “Hey, sweetie, are you guys finished with your ride already?” Her face drained of color, and Avery’s chest tightened. Voice tight, Alice said, “Bryant, what’s wrong?”

  Avery sat very still, her hands cold and her stomach knotting. She knew that tone of voice—the tone that said something bad had happened. Alice listened intently and then said, “Okay, we’re on our way.”

  “What’s wrong?” Avery whispered. “It’s Dustin, isn’t it?”

  Alice put a hand over Avery’s. “Before you start worrying, the doctors at Zion Memorial are the best. They’re going to take excellent care of him. And it’s not your brother. It’s Mason.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Avery froze. All this time she’d been trying to hold back—to keep herself safe. She’d been afraid for her brother—or she thought she was. It wasn’t Dustin she had feared for. Well, it was. But even more, she'd been afraid for herself. Afraid she would lose Dustin. Afraid to love Mason for fear he, too, would be taken. Instead, she had cheated herself out of time with him. She’d held back and it did not thing to ease the sharp pain lodged in her chest.

  Now she saw how impossible it was to guard against loss—not without putting herself into a bubble. Not without cutting away everyone and she didn’t want that.

  Alice was talking and Avery nodded, dumb and unable to talk. Something about ICU. A crash. A cracked helmet. She could only think, He was trying to be safe. He did the right thing. And still he’d gotten hurt. Maybe it was just like Alice had said—sometimes your number just came up. Was this Mason’s time to go? Had she missed out on telling him she loved him just because of her stupid, stupid fears?

  Somehow, Alice got her to the hospital. Clean walls, hard surfaces, and the terrible smell of disinfectant and death left Avery stumbling. It was too much like when Edward—

  She cut off the thought. If she kept letting the past dictate her future, she wasn’t going to have much of a future at all. She had to get past this—for Mason. For herself.

  Pushing her shoulders back, she slowed her breathing. She had her inhaler in her purse if she needed it, and she was in a hospital, after all. She could do this.

  Mason’s room in the ICU seemed to be all wires and windows, with Mason lying still in a bed, white sheets over him. It looked wrong to see him so very still, his tan skin sallow. Walking to his side, Avery fingered the hospital gown he wore—one with cartoon characters all over it. Was that a good sign?

  People were talking in low voices. Something about hitting his head. A bleed inside his skull. Broken bones. Casts wrapped around Mason’s left arm. Avery swallowed the tightness in her throat.

  A nurse came in bright pink scrubs, and Avery asked, “Can he hear me?”

  The nurse offered an encouraging smile “We believe so. Talk to him as you would normally. Sometimes it’ll bring them around sooner.” She left. Alice stood outside the room with Bryant, talking to a doctor.

  Avery turned to Mason. She touched his face. Blackened eyes left him looking like a raccoon. She bit down on the urge to cry. One large scrape crossed his cheekbone. They’d shaved his head and tubes seemed to come out of everywhere, including one for breathing. Avery closed her hand around his wrist.

  “Mason, don’t you do this. You’re a fighter. You don’t give up. So you fight, dammit. You better fight and put everything into this! I’m not done with you and…and you’re not done with me. You’re…you’re supposed to seduce me again, you know. You’re supposed to sneak into my bed and make love to me, and make me yours! And if you wake up and come back, I’ll…oh, it doesn’t matter what I’ll do.” She laid her forehead against his hand. Straightening, she kept her face close to his. “I love you, Mason. I think I loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. You’re the one who rescued me. You’re my white knight, and now I’m here to tell you I want you to get up out of this bed and be the fighter I know you are. You’re the bravest man I know—you’d have to be to get close to me.”

  She heard steps and glanced over to see Dustin and Mason’s brother, Beck. She straightened. Dustin walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Avery. I don’t know what happened. One minute everything was fine and then Mason’s bike flipped. We were—”

  “Don’t.” Avery shook her head. “He knew the risks, yet he was willing to take them. He…he was doing what he wanted to do. What he loved.”

  Dustin stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m going to cancel my fight.”

  Avery faced him. “Would Mason tell you to do that?”

  “No, but—”

  “You do what Mason tells you. That’s the deal. Remember? And wouldn’t he tell you that you’ve been training for this and you need to see it through? You don’t quit. You don’t run. Mason taught both of us that.”

  “But Mason—?”

  “Is going to be here, watching you fight on TV. He’s going to wake up because I’m going to be here telling him about your fight, and making sure he knows he has to be there for you. He has to be in your corner.” She swiped at the sudden wetness in her eyes. “Now get back to training. That’s what Mason would tell you. And you better bring back a belt or a trophy or whatever it is they give you for winning so you can show Mason how great a trainer he is.”

  Dustin gave a nod. He left with Beck, and Avery turned back to Mason. She pulled up a chair and took his hand. “So, what are we going to talk about, Mason? I know—I’m going to tell you just what I’m going to do with that beautiful body of yours as soon as you’re well. And it starts with dragging you into a hot tub with me, and both of us naked.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Avery set up camp in the hospital. The nurses seemed to be fine with that, dragging in an extra bed for her, and keeping an eye out for her. Alice insisted on pulling Avery out for meals and breaks, telling her, “Quit hogging the man. Bryant and Beck need to be here, too, and you know they raise a fuss if it starts to look like a party in there. Besides, the doc said he’s getting better.”

  Better—but not awake. Avery’s stomach knotted every time
she thought about losing Mason and she knew she had to pull it together. She couldn’t think that way—not any more. She needed to focus on thoughts of Mason getting better. She needed to picture him smiling as he watched Dustin fight. And she was going to have to learn how to watch that, too. She only let herself fall apart in the shower, where the water could hide her tears. And she knew this was going to take time.

  Most of her clients were fine when she told them about the accident and her shifted priorities. Only one client raised a fuss about her temporary limited hours, and she flatly told them that if they were unhappy she would quit. They immediately back peddled and said they understood—and she made a mental note to raise their rates next contract cycle. She couldn’t work on her laptop in the hospital—no Internet—so she had to grab time at a local coffee shop to try and at least stay current. But that was hard. She kept thinking about Mason.

  His bruises were starting to fade. The nurses pulled the breathing tube and the doctor started to talk about moving Mason out of IC. Everyone kept telling her not to worry too much. Debbie—the nurse in the pink scrubs who seemed to love bright colors, told her, “He needs to let his body heal—the swelling is down in his brain, and it’s looking good.”

  Avery stared at her “So why isn’t he awake?” No one gave her an answer that made sense. The doctors had performed yet another scan of his head, pronouncing him healing nicely, and the bruises and scrapes of his body were healing.

  But Mason himself seemed to be gone. And Avery kept thinking about all the stories she’d ever heard about people in commas who never woken. She kept thinking about Edward. She kept kicking herself for backsliding and letting the negative creep back in. Mason needed her to stay positive.

  All too soon, Dustin had to leave for his fight. He came to see Avery at the hospital. He stopped beside Mason’s bed. “How’s he doing?”

  Avery shook her head. “You better ask Mason. Hey, Mason, look who’s here. Dustin. He’s been working so hard—you’d be proud of him.” She motioned for Dustin to keep talking.

  With a sideways look at her, Dustin stepped up to the bed. “Yeah, working my ass off. Beck says I’m ready, but Bryant keeps telling me not to get cocky. He sounds a lot like you. And, uh, Anders got reserved seats for everyone. He says it’s going to be a media frenzy and everyone’s going to be asking about you. My big fight, and you get to be the star. And…and well, I gotta go now.”

  Standing, Avery gave Dustin a hug. “Be safe. Okay. Be smart. And…and…” She broke off and pulled in a breath. “And I’m going to be watching you from here on the pay per view, so you better be good.”

  Dustin gave her a smile. “How are you going to get a TV in IC?”

  “Oh, I’m going to make sure Mason can at least hear the fight.”

  That took more doing than Avery anticipated. She had to argue with the doctors, the nurses, and the administrative staff. Since they were already talking about moving Mason out of intensive care, she convinced them to get Mason into a room near IC—and then she set about making sure the TV would handle the paid fight programs.

  She’d just gotten everything set up when the lesser fights were starting. Sitting down next to Mason, she took his hand. He’d lost his tan during his stay in the hospital and while it was no longer so strange to see him lying in a bed so very still, she knew she’d give anything for him to squeeze her fingers. Please…please just open your eyes. But he just lay propped up in his bed, the feeding tubes and monitoring wires hooked up to a body that seemed to be lacking in a soul.

  Sitting in the chair next to him and trying to watch him and the fight wasn’t working, so Avery tucked herself into Mason’s bed and held him close. “Better, hun?” she told him. “I can’t wait to get you home, you know. I bought some new pajamas—black and lacy, just for you.” She toyed with his hair as she spoke.

  The hospital staff had kept Mason shaved and bathed—and Avery had taken over some of that job from them. She liked rubbing a sponge over his muscles. Feeling the life and strength still in his body reminded her that he was still in this world—he was healing. And she’d talk to him when she washed him, telling him all the things she wanted to do with him when he was better. How she wanted to touch him—how she wanted to make love again.

  But his hair was getting long and curled on the ends now. “You need a haircut,” she said, bending close.

  From the TV, the crowd roared and she glanced at the screen. She winced when she saw one man getting pounded by another. For a moment, her chest tightened and her breath wheezed. She sipped down breaths and hugged Mason. “Oh, that wasn’t good. Did you see that? Dustin better not get thumped like that or I’m going to thumping you for not training him to be good enough.”

  Mason lay unmoving in her arms.

  The fight ended, and Dustin entered the arena. Avery’s palms grew sweaty. Her chest tightened and she started to gasp for air. Dark spots danced at the edge of her vision. Just in case she pulled her inhaler from her purse and left it on the bed. Snuggling in close to Mason, she held him tighter.

  The announcer’s voice came on and Avery finally saw a ring girl—a girl wearing almost nothing walking around with a sign, as if any guy was looking at anything but the amount of skin showing. Avery caught a breath and punched Mason’s arm. “You ever hang out with those girls and you are so much toast, mister.”

  “And now, for the fight you’ve all been waiting for. In the red corner, wearing the black shorts is Dustin Caaaaaaldwellllll! In the white corner, wearing the green shorts is Shamus the ‘Fighting Irish’ MacDougallll!”

  On the TV, Avery watched the other fighter climb into the ring and strut around. “He looks a lot bigger than Dustin. I thought you said the guys were supposed to be matched?”

  Mason didn’t answer and Avery’s chest tightened even more. She reached for her inhaler, but it had gotten lost in the blanket. She couldn’t find it. The fight began. She watched Dustin move in close. She recognized the roundhouse kick he launched—but then it was just a lot of punching. Avery winced and put a hand on her chest. Dustin backed away. Somehow he managed to duck the other guy’s wild swings.

  And then Dustin got hit.

  Avery closed her eyes—and her chest closed, too. She gasped for a breathe—and found her throat closing and her chest shutting down. She tried to sit up, but the world swam. She could hear the crowd on the TV go wild about something, but her world narrowed to just the next breath. She needed to get to her inhaler—or to the call button for a nurse. She needed…

  Something tightened around her hand.

  She glanced down and saw Mason’s fingers twitch. For an instant she forgot to struggle to pull in the next breath. She glanced down at Mason and saw his eyelashes flutter—so dark against his skin now. His fingers twitched again, poking at the inhaler she’d lost. She grabbed it and took three hits from it.

  The tightness and wheezing in her chest eased. Dragging in a slow breath, Avery smiled. “Can you hear me, baby?” She hit the nurses’ button and slipped her arm under Mason’s head again, glancing back at the TV when a roar erupted from it. “Wow, look at that. Dustin’s got that other guy on the run. I think he’s running out of breath faster than I was.”

  Dustin landed several kicks and punches to the other fighter’s middle and then he let loose a string of kicks. Avery winced. She looked down at Mason and leaned close. “You really should be the one watching this. Come on, Mason—take a look. Please wake up. Please.”

  She glanced back at the TV to see Dustin throw another kick. Now she could see that while Shamus had a longer reach and more size, Dustin was fast—and fit. The other fighter stumbled backwards and fell. Dustin followed him down, swinging his fists. The referee moved in and suddenly Dustin was on his feet and everyone was shouting.

  Avery frowned. “What happened?”

  She heard a low mumble. Her heart stopped and then thudded hard. She glanced down to see Mason’s eyes open a fraction. He wet his lips and whispered. �
��Won…he won. Water.”

  “He won!” Avery leapt up from the bed, causing a groan to rise from Mason.

  From narrowed eyes, Mason shot her a glare. Avery smiled and wrapped herself around him, soaking in his eyes. “It’s so good to see your eyes again. I missed them so much. I missed you. I’m so glad you’re awake... I thought I was going to lose you…”

  “Never,” Mason croaked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

  Getting up, she got him some water, calling out for the nurses to come quick.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I do not need a wheelchair.”

  Avery put her hands on her hips and faced Mason. “And I am not going to be able to catch you if you fall on your face. Beck’s outside with Dustin and the van. Alice and Bryant had an appointment with her OB, so you are stuck with me to get you to the door. And I will not have you spoiling the party everyone’s been holding off on having until you could get home.” She grinned. “Dustin has a surprise for you.”

  Mason eyed her. His body still ached in places it shouldn’t. He had a cast on one arm, a hip sore from too many days in bed and the only thing he was sick of now was being poked, prodded, and scanned. “What about a surprise from you? You do know I remember you talking about something black and lacy.”

  Her cheeks colored. She waved at the wheelchair. “The hospital wants you to use this to get to the door. Do that for them—for me—and I’ll see about a private showing of just what I was talking about.”

  Reaching out, he took her hand. “You know, I’m kind of fond of cartoon characters. The sexy stuff is cool, but I’ve been dreaming about getting you home and peeling off your layers. It’s like unwrapping the best birthday present ever.”

  Leaning down, she threw the long braid of her hair back over her shoulder. “If you get in the wheelchair, I can sit in your lap on the way out.”