Midwest Fighter (Kendall Family Book 2) (8 page)

“You need something in your stomach.” I pull her over to the island and help her onto a stool, moving it at an angle. With any luck she won’t fall over. After handing her a bottle of water, I grab the carton of eggs and sleeve of bacon left from my shopping trip the other day and fire up my sister’s industrial stovetop.

“Of
course
you can cook,” Hope mumbles behind me. “Do you know how hard it is to find a guy around here who doesn’t want anything more than a little wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am? Should’ve known Evelyn’s brother would be a nice guy. I mean she told me you box and work your ass off on the farm. But the cooking thing? You’re unreal. Half the guys I know are hooked on video games an’ think cereal’s considered a meal. Why is it so hard to find someone who’s grown up and ready for commitment beyond the fuckin’ weekend?”

Good question. I throw the bacon into a cast iron skillet and crack an egg into a bowl, shaking my head. “Don’t know. You’re not going to find the kind of guy you're looking for when drunk in a bar. That makes you a prime target for assholes.”

“Where do you suggest I look? In a boxin’ ring?”

I turn to glance at her over my shoulder. “You suggesting something?”

“Maybe.
And maybe I shouldn’t have had that last Long Island, but getting smashed seems to be the only way I can find the courage to do this kind of thing.” She wraps a hand in her long blond hair and grins while batting her lashes. It’s flirty and cute as hell. “What do you say, big guy? Care to take a girl out for a night on the town?”

Moving over to the island, I set both hands on the counter before looking her in the eye. She may not remember the conversation in the morning, but I don’t want her to get the wrong idea and I’m not going to be a dick about it. “You seem like a good person and I appreciate the offer, but I’m only in the city for a short while. I’m not interested in a short-term fling with one of my sister’s friends.”

She leans in toward me, pierced eyebrow cocked. “Who said it’d have to be short term?”

“I’ll be back in Minnesota by the end of the month.”

“Plans change, James.
People
change. When there’s somethin’ worth fightin’ for, we evolve for each other. No couple starts out as a perfect match. Sacrifices are made, lives are rearranged. It’s in our nature to pair off.”

My eyebrows draw together. “You always get this deep when you’re drunk?”

“Prob’ly. It’s easier to speak the truth after a few shots.”

Looking down to the floor, my back stiffens. What if she’s right? Hell, she could be perfect for me. I’ll never know unless I give her a chance. Same could be said for Sharlo, and she’ll be back in town by tomorrow night. Then again, the radio silence from Sharlo might be a sign that it’s time to move on.

“I’m in a shit-poor place to be dating,” I finally admit, meeting her hopeful gaze once again. “I’m not going to pretend I’m up for this when my head’s not in the right place. I’m here to train. I couldn’t give you the kind of attention you deserve. I’m at the gym all day and ready to crash at night.” When a slight frown pulls at her lips, I fold my arms over my chest and tilt my chin. “You’re a fun, beautiful woman with an impressive job. I’m sure it won't be long before you come across someone who’s good for you.”

Before catching her reaction, I turn back to flip the bacon and put the eggs in a pan. With any luck she’ll understand where I’m coming from and not see me as an asshole who refuses to date. The reasons sounded lame to my own ears, but I’m not ready to admit to her or anyone that I’m holding out for someone else.

“One drink
at Leona’s, t’morrow night,” she pleads. “My treat. We don't even have to call it a date. We can say it’s the start of a friendship. I’ll slug you on the shoulder a time or two if it’ll make you feel more comfortable, like you’re hangin’ out with one of the guys.”

I turn back to her, shaking my head. “You’re also persistent.”

“Damn right. How’d you think I got hired to manage one of the hottest joints in the city?”

She doesn’t say anything more about the subject as I finish cooking and serve her the late night meal on one of Evelyn’s square plates. Instead she tells me stories of Evelyn and Charlie’s first dates while she cleans her plate. Before long, her eyes grow heavy. I make her drink the last of the bottled water, then lead her up to the guest bed. She removes her strappy sandals before I tuck her under the blanket, fully clothed.

“One day you’ll make the world’s best husband—prob’ly a daddy too,” she says with a hum, eyes closed. “Whatever chick you decide to settle down with will be one lucky bitch.”

My gut roils with unease. Until she said “daddy” I had forgotten all about not using protection with Sharlo. Christ, I really need to have a talk with her. Whether or not I decide to see where this thing between us goes, I have to know if I’m going to be a father.

“I’ll be gone by the time you wake, so let yourself out,” I tell Hope, gathering a set of gym clothes for in the morning. By the time I turn off the lights, I can hear her light snores.

I take watch on my sister’s couch downstairs in case Hope decides to wander off later. It’s almost impossible to fall asleep knowing it won’t be long before I’ll be face-to-face with Sharlo again.

I
’ll always have
a bit of a soft spot for the endless beauty of California, but it will never compare to the warmth that fills me when the familiar sights of Brooklyn Heights come into view. The closer the private car gets to home, however, anxiety begins to claw its way up my throat. Upon graduating from NYU, I moved straightaway into the converted church flat with my then-boyfriend, and for a time it seemed where I belonged. Something about the unique feel of the modern decor mixed in with the old world charm of wood and iron had always called to me, made me at ease. The desire to live elsewhere didn’t arise until that nutter reporter stormed in with a gun and kidnapped Evelyn in an attempt to get Charlie’s attention.

After setting my luggage by the island, I sort through the mail to find the usual bills. As I pour myself a glass of water, I see an envelope without a return address that must’ve slipped from the pile. It’s lodged between the foot of a stool, near the same spot where I was knocked unconscious.

A great shudder runs down my back with the memory of the reporter holding a gun to my head. Evelyn refuses to talk about that night, saying it’s too painful to remember how she had to shoot the woman, and I don’t dare mention the fact that I no longer wish to live here as she’ll undoubtedly feel as if it’s her fault. Accordingly, I’ve been doing overtime with the therapist I’ve been seeing since Richard first cheated on me.

As a little girl, I was once the unfortunate recipient of a robbery gone bad in Oakland. The bloke was desperate not to go back to prison and grabbed me, holding a pistol to my head as the policemen arrived. Many sleepless nights were to follow until a child psychologist was able to convince me that I was safe, and the man was not coming back for me.

With a sigh, I retrieve the envelope from the floor. It would seem someone wrote my name and address in a hurry as it’s barely legible. Ripping the envelope open, I find a small piece of paper with an odd sentence scrawled in black ink.

“That’s rude,” I say to the empty room. Throwing the note to the counter, I don’t give it any more thought. The city is filled with nutters, though I can’t imagine why one would take the time to seek out my name and address specifically. Perhaps I should be more concerned after all.

Then it’s as if the clouds have parted after a brutal storm when I remember James is somewhere nearby. I haven’t the faintest idea what to expect once we’re reunited, but a girl can dream—especially with the aid of a 3” vibrating mate.

After showering and running a blowdryer through my hair, it seems nothing in my closet is sufficient for a visit to James. Eventually I’m able to whip together a little something using a blouse I created for our upcoming line that Katie sewed with a pair of lace-covered shorts. It’s feminine and flirty, matching the mood I’m in. By the time I’m standing on Evelyn and Charlie’s stoop, I’m more nervous than a stoner who’s been handed a drug-test and nearly dash off before the door creaks open.

“Hope?” I nearly choke on her name when seeing her with a towel wrapped around her naked body, blond hair hanging wet around her shoulders. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Ev asked me to check on James, so I came by last night,” she answers, leaning up against the doorframe and cocking one leg. “He left for the gym early this morning.” A small, wicked grin stretches her lips. “That man is one tall drink of water.”

“If big and brooding is your type, then I suppose he is,” I agree, hoping the words don’t come out as surly as they feel. A surge of envy swells inside my chest, making it difficult to properly breathe. Apparently our short-lived affair didn’t mean anything to James, though I suppose that’s really all it was ever meant to be. “I wanted to pop in to grab some designs off Evelyn’s laptop. Won’t take but a minute.”

When she opens the door, the lie sinks into my gut. I’m not about to let on to someone I consider a mate that I’m an unflattering shade of green with envy all because she shagged someone I thought I had unrequited feelings for. That kind of thing will have to wait until I’m back in my flat behind closed doors, able to make a spectacle of myself in private.

* * *

I
’m not normally
the type to mope around, but whenever I recall visions of Hope standing in the doorway, it feels as if something inside of me will implode. So I do my best to distract myself for the afternoon, taking to a tub of ice cream while tearing through a marathon of 80s adventure flicks. When that doesn’t do the trick, I stare down a bottle of Jack, debating whether it’s worth risking the well-being of whatever pin-sized fetus may be growing inside of me. My period isn’t due to arrive for more than a week. Getting mashed to cure my woes is out of the question.

Damn James Kendall for weaseling his way inside my head as well as my knickers.

Deciding being alone in my flat is only adding to the direness of the situation, I pin my hair behind my head and don a pair of stilettos with one of my favorite dresses before hitting the cobblestone path toward Leona’s. It comes as a great comfort to be surrounded by the familiar lull of rock music and immersed in the local culture. All day I was keen to call Evelyn, but as it has to do with her brother and one of her mates as well, I knew it would only give her something to fret about.

The next person in queue to always offer a steady shoulder stands behind the bar when I arrive, chatting it up with a few young girls who look smitten with his large muscles and overall fit appearance. Can’t say I can blame them. When Nolan first inherited the bar from his grandmother a few years back, I was already a loyal customer but hadn’t had the pleasure of making his acquaintance. Those dark eyes and lush beard alone were enough to wet my knickers on the spot. I mean bloody hell. The man makes Henry Cavill appear to be a mongrel. It wasn’t long before we learned we had plenty in common as trust-fund babies. Then he told me of his adventures as a Marine, and I was ready to give him a proper shag.

Unfortunately, my weasel of an ex was still in the picture and the bond I formed with Nolan began to resemble more of a sibling nature, ruining any thoughts I had of wanting to jump his bones. I can’t help but think he would’ve eventually run off like everyone else in my life if we had been anything more anyway.

“Shar!” he calls out the moment he spies me headed his way. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you were staying home tonight,
sugar cookie.”

The two young women immediately scowl in my direction with the dreadful code name for “save my ass” we established long ago when some bloke I had only just met got down on bended knee and asked me to be his bride. At the time I was desperate for Nolan’s assistance and came up with a term so ridiculous he knew I’d never otherwise use.

“I couldn’t possibly bare a moment longer without seeing my little
sweet-tits,”
I reply, flashing the women a wide smile.

Chuckling, Nolan moves around the bar-top to my side, and places a kiss on my cheek. “Excuse me, ladies, but this British beauty already stole my heart.”

Snarling beneath their breaths, they scurry away, eliciting a giddy laugh from my lips. April, one of the feisty waitresses with whom I’ve gotten shit-faced with a time or two, waves at me from his side and tilts her hand toward her mouth in the universal symbol for drink. I shake my head in small bursts, praying Nolan doesn’t catch on.

I grab Nolan’s thick bicep and smile. “Why on earth would you purposely ruin your chance at getting a proper shag?”

When he smiles back, a dimple pops into his right cheek. “They were students at NYU. Too young and naive for my taste.”

“What
is
your taste?” I tease, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “Inquiring minds want to know.”

“I’ll let you know when I find her.”

I straighten the collar on his dress shirt and sigh. “Really, Nolan. You mustn’t continue working yourself to an early grave. Take some time off. Travel the country. Have a go with an exotic woman in every port if you must. Just get out and
enjoy
life. There’s no need for you to be here twenty-four seven when you have a perfectly capable staff and a healthy inheritance. You could give the place to charity and you’d still be set for life.”

“You know this place
is
my life.” Sadness creeps into his gaze as it flitters over my shoulder. “Besides, it’s the only thing that has kept me going since my grandma’s memory turned to shit. At least when I’m here I remember the good times with her and not all the times she’s asked me my name or gone off on some rant about how she thinks she’s a teenager and needs to hide her weed from her parents.”

“Maybe you should take a note from Grandma Leona’s childhood and let loose. I know it’s hard to see her in such a way, but you need to visit her while she’s still around. You’ll hate yourself one day for it if you continue to simply communicate with her through the nurse you hired. I’ll come along, if you’d like.”

When he doesn’t answer and the pain in his expression doesn’t lessen, I collect him in my arms and squeeze tight, wishing I could carry some of his troubles. I know too well how it feels to have an absent family and be abandoned by those you love. Perhaps it’s the reason why I was eager to latch on to Nolan as a family member when we first met.

“Eventually it’ll be okay,” I say to him. “You’re strong…you’ll get through this just like you survived those dreadful haircuts in the service.”

“Dammit, Shar. Why can’t all women be like you?” he asks, finally giving in to wrap his arms around me. His cut muscles become lax beneath my hold. “Things would be so much easier if we would’ve acted on the chemistry we felt the night we met.”

“Perhaps, but I value your friendship more than you’ll ever know. You helped me realize Richard wasn’t the right one. And you were there for me long before Evelyn came along. Now that she’s off touring the countryside with her fit husband, I need someone to call me out when I’m having foolish thoughts.”

He draws back, brows pulled downward. “What’s going on? You alright?”

“Nothing copious amounts of alcohol won’t cure,” I answer with a tittering laugh. Not that I can actually
consume
any, but I can at least pretend by sipping soda with a straw. “How about you pull your fabulous ass away from this place so we can hit the clubs in Manhattan? Maybe you’ll find my doppelgänger after polishing off a bottle or two of your favorite bourbon.”

“I can’t leave. Hope has the night off.”

The mere mention of her name has my stomach sloshing about even if it’s foolishness on my part for believing the thing with James actually
meant
something.

Hooking my arm through his, I give him a bright smile while playing with the elastic band on his thousand dollar watch. Once again I mourn the fact that we’re missing a physical attraction as we’re so well-suited for each other’s lifestyles. “Right, then. Guess drinks here will have to do for tonight.”

Nolan shakes his head, unwilling to let it go. “What aren’t you telling me, Shar?”

My eyes catch on a tall, dark-haired figure working its way through the crowd. I suck in my breath until the familiar brown gaze lands on me, warming every inch of my body. Looking fit as ever in a pair of khaki shorts and a white, short-sleeved dress shirt, James makes his way toward where I stand clutching Nolan’s arm. He’s a sight to behold, all muscle and brawn, towering over the crowd in a commanding way and soliciting longing glances from random women.

I’m so caught up in the delectable sight of him that I nearly miss how Hope hurries along at his side like a puppy dog, her bright green eyes sparkling with excitement. Before now I’d welcome her with open arms, but the sight of her with
my
James has me ready to use my claws.

“Bloody hell,” I mutter. What are the chances? Pretty high, I suppose, all things considered. Coming to Hope’s place of work was a shit idea.

“Who’s that with Hope?” Nolan asks.

“Evelyn’s brother, James,” I answer under my breath.

Nolan releases a deep chuckle. “They grow them big on the farm.”

They’re soon at our side, James’s dark gaze flickering between me and Nolan. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was jealous that I was with someone else. Nails now digging into Nolan’s skin, I straighten my back and pat the back of my head to ensure I at least
appear
to be holding my shit together.

James says my name in a sultry way that drenches my knickers. He seems to be fighting against a scowl when adding, “It’s good to see you again.”

“James!” I reply brightly, hoping no one else is able to hear the hitch in my tone. “How lovely to see
you!”

His dark gaze burns into my skin as he glances down to my stilettos before meeting my gaze once again. There’s desire in those beautiful eyes that he’s unable to hide and it makes my heart flutter. An awkward moment passes before I step forward to give him a half-hearted hug. His bear-sized arms coil around me, holding on like I’m his prized possession. Caught up in his musky scent and memories of him buried deep inside of me, I’m rendered useless in his massive arms, relying on them to hold me upright. Every part of me wants to drag his beautiful ass back to my flat for another go.