Holding Strong
Page 132
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And God help him, she was so hot he had to sing a litany in his head to keep his body from reacting to her nearness. Cannon’s sister, Cannon’s sister, Cannon’s sister. In his towel, he wouldn’t be able to hide a rise.
“I heard you were signing with the SBC.”
Her light blue eyes were the same as her brother’s, but damn, they had a very different effect on him.
“Yeah.” Discomfort had him rubbing the back of his neck.
With rapt focus, Rissy stared at his biceps, and then his underarm.
He scowled at her as he lowered his arm. “Heard that from your brother, I assume?”
“Was it a secret?”
“No.” But it wasn’t something he wanted to advertise yet. He needed time to get used to the idea.
Rissy took a step closer, making him catch and hold his breath. “You’ll be away a lot now, won’t you?”
Since he’d have to exhale to answer, he shrugged.
She stared into his eyes, and he felt her soft sigh on his mouth. “I’m thinking of relocating, too.”
It hit him like a liver punch, stealing all his air. “Since when?” he wheezed.
Turning, she leaned on the wall, her arms folded behind her, one leg bent. Looking pensive, she kept her head down. “I got offered a promotion if I relocate to Indiana.”
He’d half been hoping she’d say Kentucky, since that’s where he’d be dividing his time going from the rec center to the camp where Cannon trained, with Havoc and Simon.
He wanted to say, “Don’t go,” but instead he growled, “Congrats, then.”
“I haven’t accepted yet. I have a little time to think about it.” Her gaze sought his. “You’ll be in Kentucky, right?”
“Sometimes.”
In a rush, she asked, “Why do you have to do that? Go away, I mean. What’s wrong with training here?”
“Rissy.” She already understood damn near as much about MMA as he did. Every step of the way she’d been a dedicated supporter of her brother’s career path. “Different camps make better rounded fighters.”
“The variety, I know. But why can’t those guys rotate here?”
“Havoc and Simon are a big deal.” He choked out the words, saying, “It’s an honor to be invited to their camp.”
She made a rude sound. “You don’t care about stuff like that.”
His muscles tensed. “Honor?”
“Prestige.”
“Oh.” Yeah, he didn’t much care about that.
“Armie?”
Wary, he said, “Yeah?”
“I would never question your honor.” As she walked away, she trailed her fingertips over his right shoulder, across his chest, and off his left shoulder.
Stymied, he watched her go, specifically the gentle sway of her ass. Damn it, he had wood after all.
Then he remembered Cherry’s sicko foster brothers and jogged to the end the hall in time to see Cannon walking her out.
If they both left Ohio, that could well solve his problem.
Then again, he had a feeling that particular long-legged, sassy-mouthed, tall temptation of a problem could only be solved by giving in.
And that was no real solution at all.
* * *
THANK GOD THE rest of their Friday went well.
Denver had been so entertaining through dinner and the action movie that Cherry almost forgot about the uproar Carver had caused. He treated their first official date very seriously and went out of his way to make it wonderful for her.
She had to think Armie was right—giving over to Denver 100 percent had made a marked difference.
It still wasn’t easy for her. She’d gotten used to doing for herself, to making ends meet on her own and doing without when she couldn’t. Having Denver take on some of her responsibilities left her uneasy.
For her, a new phone and additional bill would have been staggering. He treated it as no big deal. And she did understand the importance of cutting off all contact with Carver. In fact, Denver kept her phone in his pocket, and she carried his. First thing tomorrow, before they went to his father’s party, he said they’d stop to get her a new number.
Repeatedly he thanked her for allowing him to do it. So ridiculous. Who thanked a person for letting them spend their hard-earned money on gifts?
In her heart, she knew it was a person who understood the importance of independence. In so many ways, Denver proved what a remarkable man he was.
Now they were at Rowdy’s bar, as were most of their friends, and everyone seemed in a good mood. They took up two big tables and a booth toward the back corner of the bar. Denver had fans continually approach him. Cannon, too. The men took it in stride, laughing, signing autographs, always receptive.
“I heard you were signing with the SBC.”
Her light blue eyes were the same as her brother’s, but damn, they had a very different effect on him.
“Yeah.” Discomfort had him rubbing the back of his neck.
With rapt focus, Rissy stared at his biceps, and then his underarm.
He scowled at her as he lowered his arm. “Heard that from your brother, I assume?”
“Was it a secret?”
“No.” But it wasn’t something he wanted to advertise yet. He needed time to get used to the idea.
Rissy took a step closer, making him catch and hold his breath. “You’ll be away a lot now, won’t you?”
Since he’d have to exhale to answer, he shrugged.
She stared into his eyes, and he felt her soft sigh on his mouth. “I’m thinking of relocating, too.”
It hit him like a liver punch, stealing all his air. “Since when?” he wheezed.
Turning, she leaned on the wall, her arms folded behind her, one leg bent. Looking pensive, she kept her head down. “I got offered a promotion if I relocate to Indiana.”
He’d half been hoping she’d say Kentucky, since that’s where he’d be dividing his time going from the rec center to the camp where Cannon trained, with Havoc and Simon.
He wanted to say, “Don’t go,” but instead he growled, “Congrats, then.”
“I haven’t accepted yet. I have a little time to think about it.” Her gaze sought his. “You’ll be in Kentucky, right?”
“Sometimes.”
In a rush, she asked, “Why do you have to do that? Go away, I mean. What’s wrong with training here?”
“Rissy.” She already understood damn near as much about MMA as he did. Every step of the way she’d been a dedicated supporter of her brother’s career path. “Different camps make better rounded fighters.”
“The variety, I know. But why can’t those guys rotate here?”
“Havoc and Simon are a big deal.” He choked out the words, saying, “It’s an honor to be invited to their camp.”
She made a rude sound. “You don’t care about stuff like that.”
His muscles tensed. “Honor?”
“Prestige.”
“Oh.” Yeah, he didn’t much care about that.
“Armie?”
Wary, he said, “Yeah?”
“I would never question your honor.” As she walked away, she trailed her fingertips over his right shoulder, across his chest, and off his left shoulder.
Stymied, he watched her go, specifically the gentle sway of her ass. Damn it, he had wood after all.
Then he remembered Cherry’s sicko foster brothers and jogged to the end the hall in time to see Cannon walking her out.
If they both left Ohio, that could well solve his problem.
Then again, he had a feeling that particular long-legged, sassy-mouthed, tall temptation of a problem could only be solved by giving in.
And that was no real solution at all.
* * *
THANK GOD THE rest of their Friday went well.
Denver had been so entertaining through dinner and the action movie that Cherry almost forgot about the uproar Carver had caused. He treated their first official date very seriously and went out of his way to make it wonderful for her.
She had to think Armie was right—giving over to Denver 100 percent had made a marked difference.
It still wasn’t easy for her. She’d gotten used to doing for herself, to making ends meet on her own and doing without when she couldn’t. Having Denver take on some of her responsibilities left her uneasy.
For her, a new phone and additional bill would have been staggering. He treated it as no big deal. And she did understand the importance of cutting off all contact with Carver. In fact, Denver kept her phone in his pocket, and she carried his. First thing tomorrow, before they went to his father’s party, he said they’d stop to get her a new number.
Repeatedly he thanked her for allowing him to do it. So ridiculous. Who thanked a person for letting them spend their hard-earned money on gifts?
In her heart, she knew it was a person who understood the importance of independence. In so many ways, Denver proved what a remarkable man he was.
Now they were at Rowdy’s bar, as were most of their friends, and everyone seemed in a good mood. They took up two big tables and a booth toward the back corner of the bar. Denver had fans continually approach him. Cannon, too. The men took it in stride, laughing, signing autographs, always receptive.
