Stone_Bad Boys of Willow Valley

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Stone_Bad Boys of Willow Valley Page 2

by Shannyn Leah


  Pressing forward, as he’d perfected over years, he found his dad reading a fighting magazine in his small, cubical-sized office. His old man looked ten years plus his ripe age of sixty. Deep lines etched his face even when a smile didn’t lift the edges and doubled whenever he scowled—which was more often than not. He needed a haircut as much as Stone, only his father’s grey hair sprung out in every direction.

  Stone leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms in front of him. “What’s your poison today?”

  Without moving his head, his dad looked up over the wire-rimmed glasses he’d only started wearing later in life. He gave his son a snarling look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Drink, dad. What drink do you want me to pick you up?”

  “Why the hell would I need you to pick me up more alcohol? You just went on Wednesday.”

  Stone held back an easy quip about the many occasions he’d gone more than once a week for him.

  “I called you because you have a visitor.”

  “A what?”

  “What are you deaf as much as stupid today? You have a visitor.”

  His dad nodded to someone over his shoulder and Stone turned, saying, “What the hell are you talking about?” His sentence was cut short as his eyes fell upon the one woman who had promised then him everything and left him with nothing.

  His heart stopped beating like time itself had stopped and his inhale of air caught in his throat.

  Was he imagining her?

  Why the hell would he imagine her?

  But why the hell would she be here, in his dad’s gym, walking toward Stone?

  He could have pinched himself a dozen times and he still would’ve considered her a figment of his imagination, but then he smelled her. Long before she took her first step, the familiar smell of Bowie Blake, the cities well-known socialite, drowned his nostrils—designer perfume with a blend of island smell, jasmine, if he recalled correctly.

  When the sudden realization that she stood in front of him as real as the men around them who didn’t hide their gawking curiosity, something deep inside him snapped—instant, dark, and familiar.

  Each step she took toward him in her expensive high heels pounded layer upon layer of anger inside him.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  She had a lot of nerve showing up at his father’s business when she held a restraining order against him.

  Now, he knew exactly who the Jaguar belonged to—the predator herself. Sauntering toward him, in a dress that dipped down her front and hugged her curves, she shared the animal’s sleek outer skin as much as it’s stalk and ambush qualities. Her expensive taste hadn’t changed much either. The oversized purse hanging off her shoulder looked bigger than the guy’s gym bags.

  She looked like money.

  She walked like money.

  And when it came down to love or money, she chose money.

  His body froze in the spot, paralyzed as he watched her approach. He dug deep within him for the strength to move, to walk away and not demand answers to questions that had plagued him all these years. To not damn well lay it on her for being the spoiled princess everyone had warned him about and not the woman he’d believed her to be behind closed doors.

  Damn it. He’d been the fool and he sure has hell wouldn’t fall into her trap again.

  Finally, his legs kicked in and he started moving, but there wasn’t a chance he’d be walking out of his father’s gym. This was his turf and no one had invited her.

  She blinked the darkest, brownest eyes at his abruptness, as she should. He ignored the worry lines her face carried and even inwardly snickered at the reluctance he saw in her eyes. Reluctance and fatigue mixed with even a dash of hope.

  What the hell kind of game was this?

  She stopped, but he didn’t even slow as they reached each other. “I have nothing to say to you.” He continued straight past her and, damn, it felt good.

  Screw being the victim this round.

  But as he passed by, she caught his forearm with both of her cold hands. “Stone, please.”

  He had to give his head a shake so he wouldn’t get lost in the sound of her desperate pleading. Knowing better, but unable to resist, he glanced over his shoulder. His vision landed where her frantic hands gripped his arm before rising to her now desolate eyes. No matter the emotions running through him, all he saw were lies, deceit, and pain.

  He jerked his arm free, disregarding the gasp that passed her lips. “Get the hell out.” Each slow, calculated word looked like it thrust down on her already slumped shoulders.

  Setting his sights on the men’s locker room as his escape, he stalked toward the door. Just as his hands lifted and slammed the swinging doors, he heard, “I’m in trouble.”

  He stopped dead cold and watched the doors swing until they no longer could.

  Son of a bitch.

  He couldn’t walk away from that.

  Chapter Two

  HER BODY SHOOK.

  Bowie Blake trembled with a frightening sensation she hadn’t expected coming face-to-face with this man again.

  Guilt, pain, and regret had been among some of the emotions she’d mentally prepared herself to fight during this encounter. But having already fought those feelings for so long she’d thought she’d nailed the method. Apparently, no amount of groundwork could warn her body to the explosion of emotions penetrating through every part of her now.

  Her chest tightly throbbed in pain and she could hardly take a short breath without her head spinning. The sound of her racing heart rang in her ears and suddenly an intense need to escape gripped her.

  Was she having an anxiety attack?

  Is this what an anxiety attack felt like?

  Anxiety wasn’t even a feeling she’d ever experienced. She was Bowie B for crying out loud. Socialite and the woman every girl wanted to grow up to be.

  A brown paper bag popped into her thoughts—did they really work? She could use one right now. She could use five and a solid chair to sit on.

  Thank goodness there were no cameras currently aimed at her. Well, not that she was aware of. Did these muscle men recognize her? Did they care? Did they even notice her at all? At the moment, none of that mattered.

  Breathe.

  She reminded herself why she’d tracked Stone Patino down—not that finding him was hard—he’d only gone back to his small home town.

  Taking another deep breath, the cool central air stung her constricting lungs. She blinked away everything else and focused on Stone.

  He remained standing motionless quite a distance away—the man had always moved deliberate and quick—and still her hands tingled from the sensation of touching him. Her heart slowed its wild beating now, waiting and knowing he stood there debating his decision. His back muscles tense under a white BOSS Hugo slim fit jacket. Finding him wearing a tux had weakened her knees alone. Not because Stone scared her. His opponents would beg to differ, but he’d never been anything but a gentleman to her. A big, strong, sexy as hell gentleman who knew to leave that side of him outside the bedroom door.

  She nearly choked on the images of him lying naked beside her. This wouldn’t work if she couldn’t keep it professional—keep from getting lost in her feelings for him. However, the distant look he’d cast upon her just seconds before had verified that he loathed her. As he should.

  She’d never before seen that much hatred in his eyes. Not even when he’d faced his opponents in a ring. He’d fought more for sport then anger.

  Too damn cocky.

  But the man standing before her now wasn’t the same. There were small differences she’d spotted right away. The way he stood more relaxed and casual, lacking that once cockiness. His face looked tired, but at the same time almost content. But also hard, shielded, protected...but was that only from her?

  Standing before him, she didn’t feel as confident that her plan would work. In fact, the longer she stood here, the quicker she lost hope.
He might literally throw her out on her ass.

  “My dad’s office.” His snarl rang in her ears. As he walked by her she thought he might grip her arm and drag her there, but he breezed by without touching her. Probably for the best. They never had been good at resisting each other.

  Needing to regroup, she let her eyes fall closed and took deep breaths, held them, released.

  She could do this. It was one little request.

  A wicked laugh almost worked its way up her compressed throat. The favor wasn’t little and she was a fool for asking him. But she didn’t have any other option to save her brother, the only person left in her life.

  Finally, after what felt like a lifetime and then some, and still not nearly long enough to stop her trembling hands, she turned and followed Stone to his father’s office. She got to the door just as his father walked out.

  “Good luck, doll.” Slate’s low chuckle lacked conviction.

  Stepping inside the office, her eyes landed on Stone. She’d never been able to resist looking at him, but today he wasn’t sending her his normal flirtatious smirk or tempting wink.

  He resonated anger. All anger.

  “Shut the door.” His bark made her insides clench. Damn the man who thought he could speak to her in such a tone.

  Without another option but to listen and obey, she reached behind her and shut the door.

  Her stare never left him. Standing tall behind the desk, he folded his arms across his chest—acting superior and making the small office feel smaller.

  “You haven’t changed much.” His eyes raked across her and she felt naked standing before him.

  “I can’t say the same about you.” She inwardly sighed, relieved when her voice didn’t shake. She mentally patted herself on the back for sounding cool and collected. She let her eyes take him in from top to bottom. “Suit, tie, hair longer.”

  So damn handsome.

  A thin line stole his lips—he didn’t seem to enjoy her assessment. “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “Do you want the long version or the short?”

  “Try the version that gets you the hell out of my town faster.”

  Now or nothing.

  “I need you to step into a fight on my brother’s behalf in less than two weeks.” She resisted the urge to bite her lip at the request and instead clamped down on the inside of her mouth.

  He wore his emotions on his face like she’d never seen before. As if in a trance, she drank in the wrinkle of his forehead as he contemplated her request and then a smirk of confusion and, finally, the way he suddenly shifted everything back to his anger. So much exposed she nearly forgot she’d asked a question. This man had been a hidden wall of secrets she’d always wanted to unravel and in a matter of seconds he’d exposed more than ever before.

  “No.” He walked around the desk, leaving barely enough room for them both. “When you walked away from me, you also walked away from the privilege of my help.” He walked out the door, leaving the scent of something new, oil maybe, or gas. She’d expected as much.

  She chased behind him, geared up for a fight. “Did you think I was asking!” She shouted as she picked up her pace to catch up. She didn’t care that her loud voice drew the eyes of others, including his dad, a man who’d never approved of her.

  He held his arm up without looking at her and she couldn’t help but love how his shirt stretched across his maintained toned muscles. “Woman, you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

  “Don’t you woman me.”

  He pushed the front door open and disappeared outside. She broke into a jog. She’d once loved his long, lean legs, but right now she cursed them for making it so difficult to catch up to him.

  Outside, the sun momentarily blinded her and she almost ran straight into his backside.

  Swiftly, she scrambled in front of him, holding one hand above her eye to block the sun peeking through the tall maple trees. “He’ll die.”

  “He’s a big boy who’s always been able to buy himself out of any situation.” He glanced at her car. “And clearly, you both haven’t spent all of Daddy’s inheritance.”

  Her hand flew out and slapped his cheek. Her fingers stung as her hand dropped to her side. An apology sat on the tip of her tongue as she watched his callused hand rub his cheek. She’d made her own bloody money and even if she’d been born into a world of money, she’d surpassed her father’s fortune long before he died.

  Stone’s amused look annoyed her. “You city girls will never quite master favor asking.”

  “One fight.”

  He took one large step closer and she smelled the man she’d fallen head-over-heels in love with all those years ago. Her head stretched upwards when his leather loafers—another material item that didn’t remind her of him—stopped inches from the tips of her heels. He narrowed his menacing eyes on her and she skipped a breath.

  “You want me to fight? Come to The Caliendo Resort at seven tonight. Find the firemen’s fundraiser. Buy me. Depending on how much this fight means to you and the pretty penny you spend, if I’m feeling generous, maybe I will listen to what you have to say.”

  Without missing a beat, he retreated, leaving her breathless, and confused. He hopped into a car that looked as fancy as his outfit and not something he’d ever drive.

  Where was his bike? Had he gotten rid of it because of her?

  The tires of the black car spun down the road leaving a squawking car sound echoing in her ears while people around her voiced their irritation with his driving.

  She smiled.

  For the first time in months, her lips curled upwards and a spark of light flickered inside her. Clearly Stone knew she’d outbid any person attending the auction, which meant he might help her. It wasn’t a signed deal, yet, but a possible meeting with him, on his terms, had been the only positive aspect in her life since her brother’s accident. She was one step closer to keeping her dimwit brother out of a match and alive. Maybe an arrangement with Stone would give her brother an ounce of hope to lift his spirits.

  Her smile dropped. The latter seemed so far away she could hardly comprehend Reed having hope again.

  One thing at a time. Tonight she had an auction to attend.

  Chapter Three

  STONE’S PHONE BUZZED on the passenger’s seat. He’d switched it to vibrate earlier, but its constant buzzing against the leather seat annoyed him as much as, if not more, than the ringing.

  Glancing down, he saw Dax’s name across the screen ... again.

  He was running late.

  Really late.

  Who knew how long he’d been sitting in the car trying to sort out what the hell had happened at his dad’s gym. He refused to look at the clock, still not ready to face his word, his responsibility, to be at the auction on time.

  He ignored his cell, again, and ran his hands over his face. Leaning his elbows on the steering wheel, he dug his palms into his closed eyes, trying to shut out the world. But that only left an empty space for Bowie to invade like a whirlwind he couldn’t outrun. In less than ten minutes she’d managed to mess up his head. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d left, everything. To top it all off, she’d the nerve to ask him to fight. The damn woman was ruthless and he’d given her the ticket back into his world.

  Son of a bitch.

  Pounding on his window jarred him from his thoughts and he sent Dax a deadly glare through the glass.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Dax shouted through the window.

  Strategizing or hiding like a coward. Dax could take his pick. If Stone walked onto that stage it was guaranteed he’d be walking off arm-in-arm with Bowie. He could lie to himself and promise he’d snub her, refuse to listen to her request, but he’d only be fooling himself. So he faced the fact that he’d listen to her. He was curious as much as he tried to ignore it, but the question lingering was after she said what she needed to say would he walk away from her or step right back into her world and take on this fight.
The reality that he even pondered stepping into her world made him a damn fool. A sucker.

  When Stone ignored Dax’s persistent pounding, his friend walked around the car and climbed in the passenger’s side, slamming the door shut behind him. “The chief’s been breathing down my neck because you’re nowhere to be seen and you’re just sitting out here? I’ve been texting and calling you.” He picked up Stone’s cell phone and gave it a little wave. “What the hell, buddy?”

  Where should he even begin? The woman he almost died fighting to start a new life with had just walked back into his life. And, like the last time, she’d asked him to fight her battles.

  “How bad was he?”

  Stone blinked at Dax more confused than in his thoughts. “Who?”

  “Your dad.”

  “My dad?”

  “The reason you went to his gym...”

  Stone only stared. It had been merely hours and yet the conversation at Dax’s shop felt like a lifetime ago.

  “Alright, what the hell is going on?”

  Stone’s chest constricted as he answered. “Bowie’s here.”

  The air around them tensed and grew so thick it made it difficult to breathe. He didn’t have to look at his friend to know that her name alone would be ruffling Dax’s insides almost as much as Stone himself.

  “That’s why your dad called you.” It wasn’t a question so Stone didn’t reply. “I hope to hell when you say ‘here’ you mean Willow Valley and not inside the resort.”

  “She asked me to fight.”

  Dax cursed. “Are you shitting me?”

  “No.”

  “And you told her where to go, right? I don’t care if she’s a woman.”

  “I told her to be the highest bidder and maybe I’d listen.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Dax slammed both hands on the dashboard and Stone silently apologized to Charlie. “Listen to what? Oh, screw it, who cares. No. Absolutely not. Let’s go.” He hit the dashboard with less force before pulling his seat belt on. “Start the vehicle. We’re getting out of here. As far away from this resort as possible.” Stone would’ve told his friend to relax if his own worry didn’t resonate the same panic.

 

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