Winning Love by Abby Niles
Copyright © 2014 by Abby Niles. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Demolished homes. Mangled cars. Strewn bodies. All around him lay death and destruction.
Panic locked in a chokehold around Mac “The Snake” Hannon’s neck, rendering him incapable of drawing in air. He squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on mentally fighting his way out of the tormenting memory’s submission hold. Forcing in a deep inhale, he held it for a few seconds, then slowly released, repeating the action until the death grip around his throat slackened, and only then did he reopen his eyes.
The destruction was gone. The only thing speeding by the passenger window of his childhood friend’s truck was miles upon miles of flat open land.
The flat open land of Kansas, to be exact.
No place like home? What a load of shit.
What the hell had he been thinking in coming back? To actually step foot back on the cursed soil known as Tornado Alley?
Damn Lance and his whole “I could really use your help, buddy.” How the fuck was Mac supposed to say no? He shot a glare at his childhood friend, who was too busy driving to notice his edginess. Or maybe he did notice and was refusing to acknowledge it. Most likely the latter. Lance knew Mac hadn’t wanted to return to Kansas any more than a fighter wanted to lose a goddamn fight—but that hadn’t stopped him from asking Mac to help him train for an upcoming fight.
After trying to come up with every reason known to man to have Lance come out to Atlanta instead, and the asshole always having a damn good excuse why he couldn’t, Mac had reluctantly agreed. Because he sure as hell couldn’t say no. Not when this was the first favor Lance had asked for since he’d saved Mac’s life four years ago.
“Mac.”
Lance’s deep voice cut into the thick silence, causing him to jolt. Fuck, he was whacked out.
“I know we haven’t really stayed in touch since you moved to Atlanta,” his friend continued. “So I appreciate you doing this for me.”
Other than a few phone calls—made by Lance—over the years, Mac had cut all ties with the past the moment the plane’s wheels had lifted off the runway and carried him away to Georgia.
“Yeah, well.” Scowling at the roughness in his voice, he cleared his throat. “It’s the least I could do, considering. Besides, your kid’s here. I didn’t want to take you away from your kid.”
Especially after he’d learned Lance had moved over two hundred miles to stay near the child. It also meant Mac wouldn’t have to return to Emerald Springs. Thank God.
“.
Mac glanced out the window. No clouds. Just endless blue skies. How quickly that could change, though, especially at the end of April. Mac clenched his teeth. Goddammit, he was going to drive himself fucking mad before he left.
“How old is she now?” he gritted out, determined to focus on their conversation.
“Eight. She remembers you. When I told her you were coming out for a few weeks to help me train, she was excited about seeing Uncle Mac again.”
Uncle Mac. He remembered that man, too. He’d died, along with his wife, over four years ago.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and shifted on his seat.
Don’t go there.
He inhaled another steadying breath and sat back against the leather seat, studying Lance. Anything to keep from being crushed by the influx of fucked-up emotions this damn trip was already causing.
Except for a couple more tats added to the sleeve his friend had been working on for years, and a beefier build since he’d decided to fight light-heavyweight instead of middleweight, Lance hadn’t changed. Same unruly dirty blond hair, same mischievous gleam to his gray eyes, same laid-back attitude. Mac used to be like that…before.
Fucking hell!
“When did you move out to Cheney?” The edgy feeling of wanting to crawl out of his skin had him scouring his palms on his jean-clad thighs until the skin burned. Trying to relieve the building tension, he worked his neck back and forth. He hadn’t felt this tightly wound in years. It was what had pushed him into the cage—which had ended up being the best damn therapy a guy could’ve asked for. Pummeling the shit out of something released it all. And he sure as hell could use a pummeling session right now.
“You okay?” Lance asked.
Mac grunted. “Cheney?”
A sigh came from across the cab, which he ignored. If Lance thought Mac was the same guy he’d grown up with after all that had happened, he’d soon learn how wrong he was. That guy was long gone. Once his friend realized that, maybe he’d get the boot back to Atlanta early. He’d be okay with that.
“About two years ago Piper’s husband got a job in Wichita, and I couldn’t be three hours away from Skylar. Since I can technically work anywhere, I packed up and moved here, too. Cheney’s nice. It’s only thirty minutes from Wichita, but still has a small town feel.”
“How are things between you and Piper?”
His friend shrugged. “Unlike popular belief, divorce doesn’t have to be horrible. We have a great relationship, I like her husband, and he loves Skylar. He doesn’t try to take my place or step on my toes, and he leaves the parenting to me and Piper. So I think I got a pretty good deal.”
The more Lance talked, the more Mac’s tension eased. If distraction helped, he’d make sure to keep him talking.
“That’s great. If anyone could make a divorce work, it’s you two.”
“There’s still love there, man. Just not love. I guess that’s what happens when you marry right out of high school. We grew up together, then grew apart together. There’re no hard feelings, the shit just happened. As a result, Skylar gets two parents who can be in the same room together and honestly like each other.”
Lance veered right, off the main street running parallel to the town of Cheney, onto a dirt road. A few seconds later, he turned onto a long, gravel driveway leading to a large two-story farmhouse. He pointed to a wooden barn behind it. “I have a home gym setup in there. With my schedule, it’s hard for me to get out to a training facility daily, but I have to train, even if the only time I can find is at two in the morning. It’s a rough setup, but it gets the job done.”
“You got to do what you got to do, man,” Mac muttered. No one knew that better than he did. It was why he’d left in the first place.
“With your help, I hope to be ready for the fight in six weeks. There’re supposed to be some big-name promoters from Cage Match Championship there. If I can get CMC to notice me, I’ll be golden.”
Mac hid a grimace. At thirty-six, Lance’s chance of getting into the top dog of Mixed Martial Arts was slim to none. Though he’d give the guy credit— he never gave up on his dream, even if he’d had to postpone working toward it for a few years.
His friend parked the truck, and Mac climbed out, surveying the area. After being in the hustle and bustle of Atlanta, the endless expanse of land before him was almost overwhelming—made him feel like a walking target. He fucking hated it. “You really went for isolated, didn’t you? There wasn’t a part of you that wanted to live in, say…a neighborhood?”
Lance chuckled. “I did, actually. For Skylar. But I couldn’t pass up this house. I got a killer deal. I would’ve never been able to afford a place like this if it hadn’t been in foreclosure. The house needed a ton of work but, since I spent years working construction with Dad, I knew I could fix it up.”
Looking at the house now, Mac would never have known it’d ever needed work. Soft sage siding made the white trim and shutters stand out. The gigantic wraparound porch was decorated with potted plants and hanging baskets, with a wicker seating area, and a porch swing. Lance had sown grass around the perimeter of the house so there was a large, lush lawn that stood out against the dried-out land surrounding them. The flower beds were filled with hostas, boxwood shrubs, and pansies. Cozy. A home. Easily destroyed.
He shook away the thought.
“You’ve been busy.”
“You know me. I can’t sit still. Always got to be doing something.”
He did know that. Lance had the energy of ten men. His inability to just relax had been one of the problems he’d had with Piper.
“Surprisingly, I love it out here,” Lance continued. “Skylar loves it out here. And if I had moved anywhere else, I wouldn’t have meet Gayle.”
“Gayle? She a new girlfriend?”
“Nah, man. It’s not like that.” Lance pointed to one of only two houses in the distance—another two-story farmhouse, but with white siding and black shutters. Though the house was beside Lance’s, it sat farther back off the road and was at least a good five minute walk away. Talk about privacy. Sheesh. “She moved in about six months ago. She helps me with Skylar when I get a call. She’s never bothered about the time, either.”
“You still repo’ing, then?”
“And towing, jimmying locked doors. The life of a single dad, bro. Skylar comes first. I can’t fight as much as I want. The little I bring in is a nice bonus but, with you here, I can get in a little quality training and hopefully knock those promoters’ socks off.” His friend slapped him on the shoulder as they started toward the house. “It’d be nice to get out of the smaller circuit. I’m only averaging about a grand a fight right now. Because of my schedule, I’ve only been able to do one every other month or so. Can’t make a living like that.”
“How’s your record?”
“Won the last five consecutive fights, hence the grand payouts. Overall record is 12 to 2.”
“Pretty good. Have they already slotted you against your opponent?”
“Yeah, some young kid. Man, it sucks to be old in a young sport.” A strained smile came to Lance’s face. “Do you think I’m chasing a pipedream? Should I just hang up the gloves and be happy with what I did get to do?”
No reason to sugarcoat it. “Ultimately your decision. It’s not going to be easy. The chances are slim. But I got into CMC at thirty-two. Others have come in their mid-thirties—though few. We still have guys fighting into their forties. So it’s not impossible.”
His friend nodded. “As long as there’s a chance, right?”
“Never give up.”
As they neared the porch, a tiny body with a mass of blond curls came barreling around the house, squealing at the top of her lungs. The piercing shriek, however, wasn’t from happiness at her dad being home. Mac tensed, preparing to take down whatever was chasing the child. The little girl suddenly dove to the left into a thicket of bushes.
“Ah-ha! I’ve got you now.”
A figure jumped from around the corner of the house and a cold blast of water hit Mac in the middle of the chest, soaking his shirt to his skin. Stunned, he stared at the woman for a moment, his arms splayed wide at his sides, then he tugged the drenched material away from his body.
Lance burst into laughter.
The woman didn’t miss beat. Turning slowly in a circle, she kept the water gun close to her face as if she was peering through a scope. “Did you see that, missy? I just took out a civilian. You will pay for that!”
She pumped the lever on the bottom of the gun and a peal of childish laughter erupted from the bushes. The woman spun around, pulled the trigger, and saturated the greenery in a spray of water.
Skylar crawled out, laughing so hard her sides heaved. “I-I surrender.” She flopped on her side, giggling. “Did you…did you see his face?”
Heat crept up Mac’s neck as his gaze bounced from the laughing child to the young girl who’d assaulted him with the water gun. He knew he should see the humor in the situation, but with all the suppressed emotions trying to explode forward since he’d stepped off the plane, being laughed at as soon as he got out of the truck irritated the piss out of him. “Who the hell is she?”
As Lance accepted the hug his daughter threw around him, he said, “Mac, I’d like to introduce you to Gayle.”
“The neighbor you were just talking about?”
“One and the same.”
Mac frowned at the girl. From the way his buddy had spoken about her, he’d expected someone more grandmotherly, hell, motherly at least. But this…this kid in front of him couldn’t be more than twenty-one.
Her auburn hair was split into two low pigtails that made the gathered strands fall over her shoulders onto her upper chest. A tight blue tank that didn’t reach her navel strained out of the lapels of the plaid overshirt she had knotted at her ribcage, making her bountiful breasts pop forward. The sleeves had been ripped off and were frayed at the seams, giving him the impression of a farmer’s daughter.
Except for the indecently low ride of her nothing-there jean shorts that displayed way too much flat stomach and tanned legs. Those things spelled trouble. His gaze lowered. Yep, the look was complete. Barefoot, with bright purple painted toenails.
“Hi, Mac. Sorry about the soaking. The little booger got away from me.”
Uncomfortable with the appreciative way she was eyeing him so openly, he pressed his lips together in a disapproving scowl. “You should be a little more careful. Someone could get hurt.”
Her lips twitched at the corners. “This coming from a cage fighter? How…ironic.”
How in the hell did she know he fought? He glanced at Lance, who was watching the exchange with amusement.
“What I do has no bearing on the matter,” Mac said, returning his attention to Gayle.
“Really? I’d say fists have a better chance of inflicting more damage than my poor little water gun.”
Mouthy thing, wasn’t she?
She sauntered closer to him, an alarming sway to her hips. The fact that he noticed horrified him.
“Let me rectify the damage. Dinner. My place. Eight o’clock.”
At a loss for words, Mac blinked. Not that he hadn’t been asked out before by a woman. He had. Just not so bluntly.
“I have better things to do than play tea party.” He needed to get control of the situation. She might find it fun to hit on older men, but he wasn’t going to be a part of it.
Those twitching lips split into a full grin, revealing a radiant smile brimming with mischief and mirth.
“Come on, handsome. I make a mean cup of tea.”
He got the craziest idea she was laughing at him. He shot a glance at Lance for help, who grinned and shrugged.
“That’s Gayle,” he said. “She holds nothing back.”
A throaty chuckle that was all woman came from her, and an odd sensation crackled in Mac’s chest. Frowning, he instinctively moved into his stance, preparing to mentally knock that unwanted feeling into submission.
She either noticed his defensive movement or decided to change tactics, because she stopped in her advance and studied him in an extremely unnerving way that made him shift his feet. “Well, I’ll let you get settled in.”
She turned and started to walk away, Skylar right on her heels. Mac breathed a sigh of relief. She’d picked up on his disinterest and was taking the hint.
The relief was short-lived as she glanced over her shoulder at him. “See you at eight, handsome.”
Her eyes eased up his body with such appreciation he felt it all the way to his groin. Another husky chuckle came from her as she turned her head back around. The seductive sway of her jeans-covered backside held him captivated. Mac shook himself, appalled he was gawking.
He spun on his friend. “She’s trouble, Lance.”
“Gayle? Ah, you’ll love her.”
“Really? What could I possibly have in common with someone that young? For that matter, what doyou have in common with her? For God’s sake, Lance, she’s teetering on the edge of jailbait for guys like us.”
Lance laughed. “Dude, she’s thirty-two.”
Mac whipped his head back toward her. She and Lance’s little girl had made their way to the side of the house. She was only four years younger than him? “No way.”
“Way. She has a damn doctorate in meteorology or something to that effect. But don’t feel bad, okay? I made the same mistake when I met her. I even asked where her parents were after she moved in. I got the same amused reaction. She knew you thought she was young. She’s a lot of fun. She doesn’t have a filter, though. So be prepared.”
Okay, so the age difference was a no-go as a reason to stay the fuck away from her. Damn it, he didn’t like that. Didn’t like his reaction to her. He needed something negative to focus on. She seemed to be a handful. Two handfuls, actually. And he didn’t have time for a handful. Or any woman, for that matter. “I don’t need to prepare, because I’m not going.”
“Come on, Mac. She doesn’t bite.” He nudged him. “Unless you want her to.”
Mac jerked back, scowling. “I don’t want her to bite anything. I have absolutely zero interest in women.”
Except for just now. And it completely freaked his shit.
His friend sobered. “Wait. Are you telling me you haven’t dated at all since… It’s been over four years, Mac.”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I knew it.” Lance scratched the back of his head and gave a derisive snort. “I told Piper she was wrong, but I let her convince me otherwise. Damn it.”
At his friend’s sudden change in attitude, Mac’s defensive shield locked into place. “What the fuck are you talking about, man?”
“That cold motherfucker I’ve been watching on the TV for the last few years. The one who is short with reporters. Never smiles. That’s not for show. That’s who you are now.” Lance glared at Mac. “Itold you to stay here. That leaving your home wasn’t going to fix anything, but you were adamant. Now look at you…you didn’t heal. You’re hollow. Lifeless. Ally would be horrified.”
Rage erupted so quickly he charged forward, raising his fist to slam it into Lance’s disapproving face. At the last second, he made himself stop, and instead grabbed a handful of shirt and tugged him forward until their noses almost touched. He said between gritted teeth, “If you’ve got a problem with the way I’ve dealt with my wife’s death, I’ll be more than fucking happy to leave.”
The man didn’t even flinch, just gave another snort as he shook his head. “Man, you really have changed. In almost thirty years of friendship you have never raised a fist at me in anger.”
Stunned, Mac jerked back. Jesus. He’d never snapped like that. “Lance, I—”
“So, that’s it,” he interrupted. “That’s how you’ve coped. You beat the shit out of people—legally.”
Anger started to fester again. “You know what? Fuck you, man. I didn’t come here for a goddamn intervention. It’s my fucking life, and I’m fine with the way it is.” He took an aggressive step forward and pointed a finger at him. “People change, buddy. If you can’t handle that, that’s your deal, not mine. Just count yourself lucky your life has been so perfect you haven’t been forced to change to cope.”
“My life has been anything but perfect, and you would know that if you’d checked in at all over the last four years. But you haven’t. The few times I called, you rushed me off the phone because you were too busy becoming”—Lance’s chin notched up—”Mac ‘The Snake’ Hannon.” Distaste coated his voice as he used Mac’s fighter name. “It’s time for you to get reacquainted with just plain old Mac Hannon.”
They squared off for a few moments, then Mac muttered a string of curses and stormed toward the house. He didn’t need this shit. Had he known this was what he was in for, he would’ve said to hell with debts owed and found a reason to stay the fuck at home. Lance didn’t know him anymore, and it was complete bullshit for him to believe Mac would be the same person. So he preferred solitude to hanging out. Who gave a fuck? He wasn’t hurting anybody.
So he took his anger out on his opponent in the cage. Who the hell cared how he beat his opponent, as long as he did?
If Lance pushed this, Mac would find the first flight back to Atlanta.
***
Eight thirty.
He wasn’t coming. Mac Broom-Shoved-Up-His-Ass Hannon.
Gayle twisted her lips in annoyance. Not that she was really surprised. The man had been uppity to the point of humor. But if he thought for one second she’d let him off the hook, he had another think coming. Gayle Matthews didn’t back away from a challenge—and unknowingly, he’d issued a very exciting one she couldn’t ignore.
After making the trek to Lance’s place, she stomped up the porch steps and rapped on the door.
As Lance answered, an amused snort came from him and he shook his head. “I should’ve known it was you.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “You know I admire your tenacity, right?”
“Uh-oh. Did the terrified fighter make you pinky swear that the next time you saw me you would convince me he wasn’t interested?” He chuckled, but it quickly faded to a seriousness so unlike him it put her on alert. “What, Lance?”
“Listen, I know you. You’re going to do what you’re going to do. I can’t stop you. Hell, you might be exactly what Mac needs. Just be careful, okay?”
The warning intrigued her. “What are you saying that you’re not saying?”
“He’s damaged, Gayle. I don’t know this Mac, and I don’t know what he is capable of if he’s pushed into a corner. I’m not telling you to back off, because honestly, I think he could use a good dose of you, just…tread carefully.”
So the grrr-worthy fighter was damaged goods. That worked to her advantage and made him safer for her. The last two men she’d enjoyed a few weeks of fun with had been too emotionally available—a mistake she didn’t plan to make again. “Message received.”
Over his shoulder, Lance yelled, “Mac!”
A few seconds later, the man himself trotted down the stairs. He’d exchanged the soaked shirt that had given her a panty-wetting glimpse of the hard muscles underneath for a black wife-beater that displayed his powerful arms very nicely. A Celtic half-sleeve decorated one bicep and the curve of his shoulder with different shades of black and gray.
For the second time that day, her breath caught tight. When she’d come around the side of the house, she’d been stunned at the towering hunk of male hotness before her. She’d known Lance was going to pick up a friend who was helping him train, knew this man would probably be as attractive as Lance, but the reality of Mac blew her imagination to smithereens.
Tall, possibly six-four, nothing but bulging muscles. Dark brown hair topped his head and was a little long, so a strand fell onto his forehead.
As he approached the door, she didn’t miss the clench of his jaw or the slowing of his steps.
Undeterred, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, it’s rude to stand a woman up.”
He mimicked her stance. “I believe I told you I had better things to do.”
“And I believe I told you eight o’clock.”
A moment of shock lit his brown eyes. He seemed to catch the slip and put his grumpy face back on.
“Now, come on. The sun is about to set. The food is past cold and I didn’t slave away at a stove for nothing.”
She bounced down the steps. No footsteps followed. She twisted and lifted a brow. He was still rooted to the spot. The mask had completely fallen off, revealing an interesting amount of reluctance. She turned all the way around and tilted her head to study him. How could a man who looked like him have a second of hesitation at being alone with a woman? Lance had said he was damaged. Just how bad was it?
Mac glanced at Lance, who had his eyes narrowed on him. Tension crackled between the two men. Oh. Something had happened here.
“Gayle is a fixture at my house,” Lance said. “You might as well get used to her. She’s going to be around.”
She could almost hear his teeth grind. “Fine.”
Gayle hid a smile of triumph and started walking. This time, footsteps followed her. She didn’t slow her pace or look behind her. When she reached her yard, she went around the side of the house toward the back.
Those footsteps stopped. “Where are you going?”
She didn’t slow, nor did she respond, just headed for the four-wheeler ATV parked outside her backdoor with a picnic basket strapped to the back. She hiked the hem of the sundress she’d changed into to mid-thigh and climbed on. Twisting, she patted the area behind her.
Mac stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
She revved the engine and inched the four-wheeler forward until she was by his side.
“Lance is right, you know. I’m not going away, so you might as well give me what I want. I promise to be on my best behavior…at least for tonight.”
As his gaze roamed over her face, his brows pulled together in a fierce frown. “You have laugh lines.”
To keep a burst of laughter in, she pressed her lips together and then worked her face into a serious expression. “It’s never nice to point out a woman’s wrinkles. Though, if we’re being honest with each other, you could use a few laugh lines.” She circled her index finger in front of his face. “You’ve got that curmudgeon look down to a science.”
Again those lips didn’t even begin to initiate a smile. Wow. Curmudgeon might not be that far off. Not that he appeared old—not with a body like his—but his features carried a haggard edge to them, especially around the eyes. And in those eyes was a sadness that made her wonder what had put it there.
“Sorry,” he said. “You just seemed so young before. But I can see now you’re not as young as I first thought.”
Another chuckle tried to erupt. She mock-scowled. “Are you calling me old?”
Being mistaken for a kid in her early twenties happened on a regular basis. That was, until they got a really good look at her. However, having her crow’s-feet pointed out was a first.
“I’m just stating an observation.”
“Fair enough.” She pointedly nodded her head at the ATV. “Get on.”
Mac muttered, “What the hell,” and climbed on behind her. Muscular thighs surrounded her hips, causing tingles to erupt over her. She wanted to feel his chest pressed into her back, his hands wrapped around her waist, but he didn’t move to hang on to her.
We’ll see about that. She gunned the four-wheeler forward. As his body jerked back, his thighs instinctively clenched around her and his arms flew around her waist. She smiled.
Better.
“Hang on, handsome. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”
She took off toward the wheat field that billowed behind the farmhouse. The heat of Mac’s touch seeped through her sundress and she inhaled a pleased breath. When she moved out here from Kansas City, she’d worried she’d have a hard time meeting someone, especially since the very hot Lance didn’t do a thing for her. Not that she would’ve started anything with him even if he had. Having a fling with her neighbor carried the risk of upsetting her day-to-day life. The men she chose to play with were temporaries, and when she moved on, seeing him every day wasn’t an option. Which made Mac perfect. Not only did he make everything inside her come to life, but he was out of here in a few weeks. Just long enough for her to scratch her itch.
She just had to get him on board—and she would.
Five minutes later, she stopped in the middle of the field. She loved this spot. It was far enough away from the houses so the artificial light didn’t dim the night sky. With no moon and the sun having set, they were in complete darkness. Stars glittered above them, and the canopy seemed to go on forever.
She climbed off the ATV and waited for Mac to stand. When he did, she stretched around him, making sure her breasts caressed his arm as she unhooked the picnic basket behind him. Every muscle in the man’s body tensed and he moved back into the same braced position he had when he met her. All he needed to do was bring his fists up next to his cheeks as she’d seen Lance do when he trained and he’d be in fighter mode.
Interesting.
Lifting the basket, she flipped on the ATV’s headlight, then carried the picnic things to the lit spot. She pulled a blanket out of the basket and spread it out over the ground.
As she did so, Mac relaxed his stance.
So the fighter didn’t like anyone getting near him. Even more interesting.
“Aren’t you worried about being out here alone with me?” he asked.
She strolled toward him until she was inches from him. Smiling, she looked up at him through lowered eyelashes. His entire body froze. She walked her fingers up his chest. Instantly, he shifted back into the same stance.
At his reaction, Gayle chuckled. “Lance has put his stamp of approval on you, so I don’t think I have anything to worry about.” She reached into the pocket of her dress. “Besides, I have this.”
She dangled the pepper spray from her fingers. Nodding, he grunted in approval. “At least you’re not completely reckless.”
Good. Lord. Even his praise was grumpy. Luckily for him, that made him all the more entertaining.
“Are you as hungry as I am?” To toy with him, she put a seductive undertone to the question.
A deep groove formed as his eyebrows dipped down, his suspicious gaze unwavering. “If you think we—”
“For food, handsome.” She winked, then walked over to the blanket and sat down. “Since someonewas playing hard to get, I’m about an hour late for dinner and starving.”
A rushed exhale sounded behind her. “You really don’t hold back, do you?”
“Hmm. Has Lance been talking about me?”
“Just said you don’t have a filter and I needed to prepare.”
“That’s pretty accurate.”
Mac finally strolled over to the blanket and sat down. Crickets chirped in the background as she tugged out the fried chicken, potato salad, and green beans. “Thank goodness this stuff is awesome cold. Next time, just show up when I tell you to, okay?”
“Next time?”
As she followed the muscular lines of his arms, she bit her lower lip. “If I get my way, there will be.” She lifted her gaze to his. “And I always get my way.”
A flash of heat warmed the coolness from his eyes, then he glanced off into the distance.
So, he felt it, too. Good.
She made Mac a plate and handed it to him. An awkward tension settled between them. He seemed to be filling it by munching on his chicken, but she refused to just sit there mute. If she had to steer the conversation, so be it. “How long have you known Lance?”
Mac froze, and she got the distinct impression he wasn’t expecting her to speak. Too bad. She loved to talk.
He swallowed his food and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Since we were kids.”
“So you know Piper, too?”
“We all hung out. I take it you know her?”
“Yeah. Lance has me keep Skylar when he goes out on runs. Today, he could’ve taken Skylar with him to the airport, but he wasn’t sure if there’d be a delay, and Piper was supposed to pick Skylar up.”
“It’s nice that you help him out.”
“I believe in community, and there are no better ones than the ones you live beside.”
Community had been there for her during her darkest days, and she always made sure to reciprocate.
“Well, it’s still nice of you.”
“Lance mentioned you were going to help him train. I’m sad to say, I don’t really follow MMA.”
“Not a fan, huh?”
She had the man talking. Holy hell.
“I’m not not a fan. I’ve just never really watched it.”
“Not even with Lance as your neighbor?”
“Nope.” Again she let her eyes do the talking as she surveyed the very male body beside her. “However, I think I’m a little more interested now.”
Red crept into his cheeks, and she thought it was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Such a strong, imposing man embarrassed by a little compliment.
She turned her gaze to the sky. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Doesn’t look like this in Atlanta. I’d forgotten how endless the night sky is out here.”
Will wonders never cease? Had there been a hint of awe in the curmudgeon’s voice?
Since she was on a roll, she asked, “When did you move to Georgia?”
His body tensed, jaw clenched. Okay. Touchy subject.
“Almost four years ago.”
“Ah. Won any major titles out there?”
She kept close tabs on his body language. His muscles relaxed as he turned his head toward her. “Nope. One day, maybe, but my usual opponents are extraordinary fighters who are all out to win a title fight.”
“Humble. I like that.”
“It’s the truth of the business.” He placed his empty plate beside him. “I’m friends with two title holders. Neither one of them came about their title bid easily. They busted ass for it. I got into fighting much later in life than they did. It was really only a hobby until a few years ago. Fought amateur, but never had any plans to make it a career.”
“What changed?”
Again, his body tensed. So, the move to Atlanta and the fighting were connected in some way. In a way he really didn’t want to talk about.
He finally looked over at her, his lips pressed into a hard line that tightened her chest. “Life just has a way of changing in a split second.”
They stared at each other. The haunted look in his eyes was all too familiar. She’d seen it reflected in her own. Mac had obviously been through something traumatic, but had lived to face life anyway.
He toyed with a chicken bone, then tossed it onto the plate. “Dinner was great. Thanks.”
She took the cue. She’d gotten him out here. Had made him relax a smidge in her company, but he was ready for the evening to end. She gathered up the plates, quickly folded the blanket, and attached everything to the ATV.
Instead of driving back to her place, she passed it by and dropped him off in front of Lance’s porch, just wanting a few more seconds of feeling his powerful body behind hers, his muscular arms around her waist.
He slid off, and she immediately missed the warmth.
“Feels weird having a woman drop me off,” he said.
She grinned. “I’ve never done things the way people expect.”
He snorted. “I’m not surprised. But you’re not as much trouble as I’d initially thought.”
She climbed off the four-wheeler, walked up to him, and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You haven’t experienced the full Gayle yet. I’m all kinds of trouble.”
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