“I’m just going to dump this out back,” I called to Lola, who was still on the phone. She gave me a quick nod to let me know she heard me, and I made my way to the back of the shop, to the heavy door that separated the warm cozy interior of Bouquets to the stinky alleyway that sat beyond. I latched the door back so it wouldn’t slam closed and lock me out, then stepped into the alley. My eyes scrutinized everything. There were several large dumpsters that belonged to the other shops along the strip of road we occupied. Some were overflowing, scattering trash across the black, icy asphalt. It smelled dank and spoiled. The shadows made my heart hammer with unease, but I’d be damned if I was going to turn into a chicken shit damsel in distress. Heaving the bag of garbage off the ground, I moved out into the alley, towards our appointed dumpster. I pushed the lid open, and with a small amount of effort, I managed to haul the large bag up and over the side of the dirty steel monstrosity. I nudged the lid shut and it slammed closed. At the same time, another loud bang echoed from somewhere behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed the back door to the shop had closed. I became rigidly still, my brain coming to the conclusion that if I didn’t move, I would become invisible to any possible threat. I stood like that for the longest time, my heart beating so fast and furious I could feel my pulse in my hands and feet, my ears deafened by the loud thundering beat. From the corner of my eye, I thought I noticed movement in the shadows—finally my rigid, paralyzed mobility disappeared—and I ran for the door. I had no idea if there was someone behind me, but every sense I possessed screamed at me to move. When I reached the door I pounded on it so hard my hands stung with each slap against the metal, and I screamed so loud my throat hurt. I heard heavy footsteps behind me, and a low chuckle that made my stomach curl as I continued to pound on that door like my life depended on it. When the door finally opened, I fell through it with such force I would have landed on my face if Dillon wouldn’t have been there to catch me. I was quickly moved aside into Annie’s waiting arms as Dillon moved swiftly into the alley. I couldn’t stop the slightly hysterical sobs that forced their way out of my mouth. As I sank to knees that would no longer hold me, Annie followed me down, rubbing what I guess was supposed to be comforting circles on my back.
“Rebecca,” I knew Dillon was now behind me, but I was so embarrassed at my hysterical breakdown that I refused to turn and look at him.
“What the fuck?”
My entire being sighed at the sound of his voice and my sobs stopped. Just like that, his voice forced the panic away, and I felt safe. Charlie’s big strong hands pulled me from Annie and I didn’t fight him. I allowed myself to sink into his chest, my ear pressed hard against him as I listened to his beating heart, the sound soothing me to my core.
“What the hell happened, Betty Boop?” His voice was a command, and unlike Dillon’s, I could not ignore it.
“I...I was putting the t…t…trash out,” I tried, hating the sudden stutter I developed. I took a deep breath and tried again, “I was putting the t…trash out, the door shut. S...someone was out there.” I glanced around Charlie’s arm so I could see the empty alley beyond the open door.
“Did you see who was there?” asked Dillon in what I recognized as his all-business voice.
I shook my head, my eyes watching the alley warily. It looked empty and quiet. Had there been someone there? Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. With a finger under my chin, Charlie moved my confused gaze back to him.
“What did you see?” he asked.
My brow furrowed as I tried to recall exactly what had happened. “I tossed the trash in the dumpster, and when I closed the lid, I heard a loud bang from behind me. When I turned around, the door was closed. Then I thought I saw something in the shadows, not really a person, just movement.” Damn it! I clenched my fists, my anger bubbling under my skin. How the hell did I become this wallowing miserable mess of pathetic female? “I’m going insane aren’t I?” I laughed humorlessly.
“Did you latch the door?” Lola asked from behind us.
I didn’t even realized she was there until that moment. Great, now my only employee was going to think her employer was completely nuts.
I hesitated before answering, because as sure as I was that I had in fact latched the door back, a small insecure part of me was beginning to think I was losing my shit. “Yeah, I latched the door back. I was nervous going out there, so I latched it back to the wall and stood at the door just looking at the stupid damn shadows for five minutes before I could bring myself to walk outside.” I watched a silent exchange between Charlie and Dillon which pissed me off. I didn’t want to be the fragile fucking weak woman who everyone tip-toed around. I’d be damned if they were going to start keeping things from me in a bid to protect poor Rebecca Donovan.
“What?” I growled at Charlie when his gaze returned to me.
“If you latched the door it means someone had to unlatch it.” I could see the desperation in his eyes. At that moment I think he would have preferred I was insane, hell, suddenly I preferred the idea of a little insanity. Because the only other option was someone was screwing with me, and not in a good way. Dillon called in Braiden to do a thorough search behind the shop, hoping that whoever had been snooping around left behind a clue as to who they were. They also put in a quick call to Frank to let the police know what had happened. Then I spent the next twenty minutes arguing with Charlie about accompanying him to the gym for his sparring session.
“I refuse to be some spineless, crazy maiden who can’t deal with her shit.”
Charlie raised a brow in my direction. “Maiden? Seriously? What era were you born in, woman?” I glared at him. “You are not spineless, you are not crazy, and you are definitely no maiden. Strong willed, stubbornly determined, intelligent, and one hundred percent sexy as hell woman is a more accurate description. And you have all that without needing to hang out with a bunch of testosterone filled men in a sweaty ol’ gym.” I drilled my nails in a determined beat against the door of Charlie’s truck, my gaze in Charlie’s direction unwavering. He was not leaving me behind. “Fine,” he threw his hands up in the air before settling them once again on the steering wheel, “like I said, stubborn as a damn mule,” he muttered. Somehow I managed to hold in the satisfied grin that begged to be let out, and watched the outside world pass by in a blur as we made our way to Lee’s Gym.
Climbing down from Charlie’s pick-up was a feat in gymnastics and balance, I almost needed a damn ladder. I would have clearly thought he was over compensating for something if I didn’t know better. Charlie stood by the front door to the gym, a cheeky grin on his face which made me wonder if I had toilet paper trailing from the back of my jeans or something. It wouldn’t be the first time the Humiliate Rebecca demon came out to play, making my cool and stylish persona look like a farce—poppy seeds stuck in my teeth, red wine spilled in my lap, broken heel on my pumps, sitting in gum—you name it and I’ve more than likely faced the awkward humiliation of it.
“What?” I asked nervously, looking down at my clothes and running my tongue over my teeth.
“You know, you look like a damn teenager dressed like that?”
I looked down again at my simple outfit and quirked an eyebrow. “Ella picked it out.” I shrugged.
“Ahhhh...that explains it.”
“You don’t like it?” I couldn’t help but blurt out. If he said no, I wasn’t sure if I would slap him or burst into tears. Pre-attack Rebecca would have slapped him, post-attack Rebecca was a turbulent mix of emotions that seemed to err on the side of ball-your-eyes out teenage drama.
“I think you look beautiful in anything you wear,” his smile turned devious, “or don’t wear.” I blushed, just like a fucking teenager! “Come on.” He pulled open the door and guided me inside, the warmth of his hand at the small of my back made me feel safe and cherished. His previous words about me being beautiful made me feel hot and possibly the tiniest bit horny—something I never expected to feel again after my brutal
attack.
I have never stepped foot in a gym, so my expectations were probably carved from hearsay and movies. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve dabbled in exercise. I ran, well, jogged slowly. Some may call it a brisk walk, but I preferred the term leisurely jog. I attended yoga in the park during summer; it was…interesting. I even attempted a pole dancing class once, which was a catastrophe. Lee’s Gym wasn’t anything like I expected. What I was expecting to find was a state-of-the-art gym, full of fancy machines, walls lined with mirrors, and pretentious men and women too obsessed with staring at their reflections to notice the world around them. Instead, Lee’s Gym was very understated. There was a small part of the gym sectioned off for weights, the equipment obviously quite old, yet it was clean and tidy. A few treadmills and exercise bikes lined one wall and on the opposite side of the gym were punching bags and mats. All of the exercise equipment surrounded what was obviously the iconic representation of an authentic gym—the boxing ring. It smelled a little funky, not in a gross way, but used—sweaty with an underlying scent of bleach. There were a few guys pounding on the bags and a few others were lifting weights. The ring was empty. As I followed Charlie, a silver haired man that stood almost as tall as the giant Jaxon Carter, strode towards us scowling. He had to be pushing sixty, but he had the physique of a man that took care of himself. He looked every bit like Beast from Beauty and the Beast that my grandma read to me as a little girl. His irate glare made me instantly nervous.
“Cole,” the towering giant growled.
Charlie glanced back over his shoulder and sent me a cheeky grin accompanied with a wink. “You’ve got that look, General,” Charlie said, a hint of humor in his voice.
The gruff looking Beast scowled even further, if that were at all possible. “And what look would that be?”
“The look you get when your wife makes you sleep on the couch because you’ve been an ass.” Charlie chuckled. I stood nervously at Charlie’s back. I wasn’t sure if this was playful banter or something that was going to end in a brawl. Beast’s scowl broke and a grimace replaced it. He peered over Charlie’s shoulder, his eyes softening as they settled on me. Beast was really nothing more than a slightly rough looking kitten.
“Two nights of couch time and counting. Apparently when your wife asks if she’s gained weight, answering honestly is not recommended. Mind you, I did tell her I thought her curves were sexy!” Beast gave me another curious glance. “What is a beautiful young lady like this doing with an arrogant ass like you, Cole?”
Charlie laughed and it made me feel at ease, and a little more comfortable. “General, this is Rebecca Donovan, Rebecca, General Lee, owner of this smelly excuse for a respectable establishment.”
The General clipped Charlie on the back of the head as he stretched out his large meaty hand that consumed my tiny one. “The flower lady, my wife talks about your shop all the time.” The General grunted and I think he smiled. It was pained looking, but I couldn’t imagine this brick of a man giving up anything more than a slight tilt of the lips.
“Perhaps she’s giving you a subtle hint,” I replied. “Women like flowers. They might even help get you off the couch.” The General nodded, and those lips twitched. Even though he was a big man who obviously rarely smiled, I felt safe in his presence.
“There’s nothing subtle about my wife, darlin’. A wise man once told me that the moment you gave in to a woman’s demands, she’d have you by the short and curlies.”
Regardless of how barbaric and ridiculous the notion was, I couldn’t help but smile. “Then you obviously haven’t heard the saying, ‘a happy wife is a happy life.’” Damn, I was beginning to sound like Lola. The General nodded again.
“Touché’,” he said, running a hand through his buzz cut, silver hair. “Cole, Brent is gearing up, go get yourself ready.” Charlie dropped my hand and gave me a reassuring smile as he backed away to, what I assumed, was the locker room. “You can come hang out over here with me while our boy gets changed. Maybe you can tell me what will make help me get a happy wife so I can get my happy life.” The General was in the process of explaining how his wife, Liz, was due in shortly and would love to meet me, when Charlie reappeared from the locker room.
The General’s voice became lost in a fog of lust and desire. Charlie was wearing knee length gym shorts with some sort of padding over his shins. His chest was deliciously bare and smooth, tattoos adorned his perfectly sculpted biceps and his hands were wrapped in tape. I had seen Charlie in all his naked glory before, but the way he looked right now—partially naked, raw and ready to fight—had me all hot and bothered, in a good way. Charlie gave me a knowing grin as he strode with confidence towards the ring in the center of the gym, my eyes following him the entire way. His muscles seemed to flex and move with fluid grace, his back coiled with strength as he pulled himself up through the ropes. As Charlie continued to move around the ring, stretching and bouncing on his feet, a gentle clearing of someone’s throat at my side caught my attention. The General was watching me with a gleam in his eyes.
“Sorry, I missed that,” I choked out.
He grunted, then nodded before standing. “Not important, little lady. Come on, let’s get up close so I can keep an eye on my boys.” I followed the General to the side of the ring and Charlie leaned over talk to me.
“You okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine, Charlie, stop worrying.” I scowled, noticing the General’s curious sideways glance.
At that moment, a tall man, dressed almost identical to Charlie, strolled into the gym from the locker room. I assumed this was Brent. He was as tall as Charlie and just as well built. A warm grin—on a face far too handsome for a fighter—graced his features. He was gorgeous--his eyes were a rich chocolate brown that sparkled with the promise of fun and adventure; his dark brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun, which should have looked feminine and ridiculous, but with this man’s confidence and sex appeal, he totally pulled it off; his skin was bronze, as if the sun god himself had kissed him with a permanent glowing tan; his body was taut and strong, and not a single tattoo or imperfection marred his lean athletic muscle. I followed the corded trail of abs that disappeared where his distinctive magic V kicked off. My mouth was begging to drop open in a display of shock. Claymont had apparently become heavenly-man central. With Charlie, Jax, Dillon, Braiden, and now this fine specimen before me, I only needed seven more divinely crafted men and we could put together one hell of a calendar for next year! Brent winked my way, or maybe it was meant for the General, either way I was absolutely taking it with a gracious smile.
“Brent,” Charlie growled, “keep your fucking winks to yourself.”
Brent laughed and began to bounce around the ring just as Charlie had done earlier. “Think you can keep your concentration with a pretty girl watching?” Brent quipped.
“Think you can keep your eyes off the pretty girl before I introduce your cocky face to the floor?” Charlie quickly replied. I tried to stop my grin, truly, I did, but heck, they were two deliciously handsome men referring to me as a ‘pretty’ lady. Their banter helped feed my starved ego.
“Both of you stop fucking around and get your heads in the right place,” grumbled the General from beside me.
The faces of both men seemed to wash clear and concentration filled their handsome features. “I’m glad you’re here, the boys need a challenge,” the General added.
Charlie and Brent turned towards each other and tapped their gloves. There was no hesitation as they began to dance around each other, throwing light punches that barely connected. My eyes followed the gentle boxing match, completely mesmerized by the beauty of it. The two men had perfect bodies that moved effortlessly around the ring. Obvious strength and surprising flexibility were combined for a fight that was varied with punches and kicks. Charlie moved effortlessly around Brent’s punches, and swept his foot high for a kick that narrowly missed Brent’s head.
“Watch yourself, Cole,
” Brent hissed.
Charlie grinned. “What’s the matter, princess, I scare you?”
As the sparring went on, Brent’s assault became a little more determined, but before I could allow worry and anxiety to enter my thoughts, someone murmured from over my shoulder.
“We need to talk.”
Four simple words from a familiar voice, and I knew we had an Oh-Shit moment on our hands. I turned around and came face to face with Luke Hollywell. He didn’t look angry, concerned if anything, but Charlie Cole was seriously going to flip the fuck out. His eyes didn’t scare me like the eyes of my attacker did, they were different. Too pale and not at all crazy enough.
“You son of a bitch!” came the roar from behind me. And here was our oh-shit moment.
“Do you have a death wish, son?” asked the General from beside me.
In an impressive display of agility, Charlie jumped clear over the ropes of the boxing ring and landed gracefully on the floor. His eyes were full of fury, which absolutely freaked me out, but not in the same way those angry eyes did the night I was attacked. In a moment of complete insanity, I stepped into the path between Charlie and Luke, hoping to God that I didn’t end up squashed in a brutal male collision. Charlie’s eyes looked confused and he became as still as a statue, watching me with his fists clenched at his sides. Behind him, Brent had jumped from the ring and seemed ready to hold Charlie back, as the General took a step closer to Luke, ready to do whatever necessary to prevent bloodshed in his gym.
“Charlie, it wasn’t him,” I quickly began to explain.
“How the fuck do you know that? His face was covered!” Charlie demanded.
“His eyes, Ella is always carrying on about eyes. And since I’ve been friends with her, I’ve taken more notice of them. Luke’s eyes aren’t dark enough, they’re like a pale, baby poo brown, not dark brown.”
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