The Fighter Duet: Two Full-Length, Red-Hot New Adult Fighter Romances (32 page)

Quickly turning away, I hurry back to where Sally and Jim are talking about god knows what. When I get there, I quickly pour another large cup of beer, and take a seat in the row opposite them.

Koa follows me from a distance, and I can feel the weight of his gaze. His eyes roam my body like a caress, and the memory of his touch makes my inner cat want to stretch out and slide along his body. The thought evokes a shiver. His eyes darken, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s so serious and composed and fucking sexy in his aloofness.

“Okay, dude,” Jim says, lifting Sally’s hand. “I’m going to teach you to bowl the way Mercy taught you to kick my ass today. You ready?”

Sally laughs, and for a moment, I can’t believe it. It seems like she might be interested in my goofy-sweet assistant. Not that I’m saying the idea is impossible. It’s just not something I saw coming.

The two of them head toward the lane, and Koa and I are left sitting apart from each other, watching them go. I want to say something to cut the tension, but I can’t think of anything casual. My traitorous brain wants to say the words that will take everything back. Bending my knees, I hug them to my chest, resting my cheek against them and focusing my eyes on our friends. In my peripheral vision, I see Koa pour himself a drink.

He might not understand it, but he’s honoring my request to stay away. He’s not saying a word, keeping his distance, and driving me crazy. Sitting here, so close to each other, the tension between us tightens with every breath. My eyes ache from being forced to watch Sally fumbling with her bowling ball.

A noise sounds from the desk, and my rebel gaze flies back to him. My chest clenches when intense green meets them. He’s looking right at me, I can’t seem to breathe. My entire body is silently begging for him, and I decide I’d better call it a night before I lose the battle. He might be strong enough to follow my request, but I’m clearly not.

Blinking rapidly, I manage a slight smile before I wave to Sally and make my excuses. I hope it doesn’t look like I’m running, but I have to get away from him.

* * *

I don’t know what to make of this. When Jim knocked on my door tonight and asked if I’d like to go with him to the local bowling alley, I never dreamed it would put me face to face with Mercy.

This town is fucking bullshit on a stick. First Andy lectures me on how Mercy is some kind of princess, which I already knew by tasting her blood, then I go to a piss-ant bowling alley, the commonest of the commonplaces, thinking I’ll drink a bunch of cheap-assed beer and forget how stupid this morning was, and what happens? In walks Princess.

Not only that, she looks like the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in her tight dark jeans and black top showing her cleavage. I remember vividly how her breasts taste and feel against my mouth.
Shit
.

I know how soft her skin is. I know how it smells like little flowers. She leans forward to throw a perfect strike, pointing her round ass in my direction, and I have a real battle on my hands. Instinctive urges vibrate beneath my skin every time she moves.

“You going to bowl, dude?” Jim tears himself away from Sally, the little mongoose of a girl who doesn’t even begin to distract my attention from the blazing siren accompanying her.

“No.” It’s all I can manage.

If it hadn’t been for what happened last night, I’d give up on this place. Ever since I’ve landed here, it’s been nothing but bullshit female drama. The sex might be out of this world, but I’m looking to rebuild my life. Mercy is clearly not a part of that objective.

I do my best to keep myself apart from her. I sit behind the row of seats trying to act like I don’t notice how hard she’s working not to look at me. How could she go from the confident, sexy woman of two nights ago to this? In that moment, her head turns and our eyes meet. Desire clenches my stomach, and I see it reflected in her eyes.

Two things are in my head. The first is Mercy’s request to stay away. The second is Andy’s warning. Her lip goes between her teeth, but I don’t look away. Let her squirm. She asked for this.

Granted, I’m a smart guy. I can be a bit obstinate at times, and one of my favorite things is to do the opposite of what everyone tells me I should; but, in cases like this, where females are involved, I always maintain control. As a result, that sexy little lynx can sit in that plastic chair and wonder what I’m thinking. The answer is nothing. I’m not here for her. I’m not sure why I’m here, but it isn’t for this.

Our eyes hold a moment longer, and she stands abruptly and goes to where Jim and Sally are giggling, fumbling over whose fingers go where.

For a moment, I feel like a self-absorbed idiot for not recognizing my simple-minded friend is making more play with the ladies than I am tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Mercy’s warm voice touches my insides like a brand. “I’m so tired, I’d better call it a night.”

“Dude, you’re kicking our asses,” Jim says, looking up at the scores on the television screens above.

She ducks her gorgeous brunette head and laughs. “I guess that’s why I’m tired. Or maybe you were too rough with me today?”

“I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Jim’s voice is suddenly serious.

Her face relaxes in a smile, and my grip on being angry falters. So much for not caring about her. “I was only teasing,” she says.

“I never get that,” he says flatly.

“I know.” She nods at Sally, who does a little wave.

She doesn’t even look at me before she jogs up the aisle to the exit, and it takes every bit of my willpower not to go after her. Instead I focus on keeping my ass firmly in this plastic chair, despite how it’s killing me to let her go.

I’ve scented her. I’ve bit her. I’ve tasted her blood. Everything about her is deeply familiar to me. We connected on a primal level. Still, I have to honor her request. Besides, I’m not so desperate I’ll chase after a woman who has her boss threaten to fire me.

Mercy leaves the Spare Lounge, and all my interest in staying goes out the door with her. Waiting a few extra minutes to give her time to be gone, I watch Jim and Sally play the remainder of the game. After what seems a safe interval, I stand and say my goodnights before heading out the door and back to Doris’s place. I don’t go upstairs. Instead, I slip out of my boots, and in the darkness of the empty garage, I strip down before shifting into my panther form.

Running feels good tonight. I worked out pretty hard this morning, but when I’m like this, I want to jump and climb. I also want to see what I can find out about my strange encounter last night. Mercy had me distracted all day, but lingering in my thoughts is a possible reason I’m here.

I’m back up the mountain, near the little creek, when I switch into stealth mode. Stepping quietly, retracing my steps from the night before, I keep to the shadows as I investigate the underbrush. Nothing looks unusual or out of place. For a moment, I stop and inhale deeply, trying to detect a scent. The air is crisp with the scent of warm fires, stinging pine, and moldering leaves. It’s all forest. Lifting my head, I look up at the moon. It must’ve been a fluke, a one-time encounter. I’ve heard of such things before.

It’s late, and I decide to try sleeping in a bed tonight. Following a different trail back to town, I’m only running a little while when I realize I’ve wandered onto someone’s property. It’s not too far from the little meadow, an easy distance in shifter form.

Hanging around the tree line, I see an enormous house lit up like a beacon in the night. It’s strange because the place appears empty, and for a moment, I pause and wonder at it. Another step, and I drop to a crouch.

He’s here—or at least he was.

The sensation is all around me in the shelter of the trees. Jerking my head around in all directions, I find nothing. I’m alone. Still, his scent is in these woods. He either comes here often or he just left. Looking back at the house I almost shift when I see Mercy standing at the window looking up at the moon.
Is that thing after Mercy?

For a moment, I gaze up at her. Even if I’m angry, I can’t deny her beauty. She’s wearing a thin robe, and her dark hair is swept over one shoulder. I watch as she leans her head against the glass, an expression of longing on her face.
What’s on your mind, princess? Why are you pushing me away?

A feeling I don’t recognize spreads through my chest. I’ve never felt this way in my life. I can’t leave her alone. I’m staying to protect her.

Bending my legs, I get comfortable in the shadow of the trees. If that thing tries to come back, I’m more than ready to fight. She asked me to stay away, and I fully intend to follow her wishes. I might not understand it, but nothing will threaten Mercy as long as I’m here.

S
undays
in the fall are my favorite days of the week. The gym is closed, and the weather is perfect for hiking in the woods, peeping at the changing leaves. It’s beautiful and fragrant, and I always save time to do a little shifting. Jumping around, hunting in my lynx form is exhilarating and fun. I’m bouncing with excitement as I head down the stairs to breakfast.

Aunt Penny’s at the table, and I pause, waiting to see if she’ll make an excuse to leave the room when she sees me. She doesn’t. A newspaper is spread beside her, and she’s reading as she sips her coffee.

“Good morning!” I say, pulling out my chair and reaching for the white bowl of fluffy yellow eggs.

She blinks up at me and smiles. “Hello, dear. I heard you go out last night.”

Taking a large bite of savory bacon, I nod. “I went bowling with a girl from the gym.”

“Bowling!” Aunt Penny straightens, a smile teasing at the edges of her mouth. “We’ll just keep that between us. Was it fun?”

“It was,” I say, considering everything that happened. “I can’t remember the last time I bowled, but I seem to be a natural at it.”

“Of course you are,” she sips her coffee. “You’ve always been athletically gifted.”

I can’t help a little frown. “I’ve never participated in sports. How can you know that?”

“It’s in your genes.”

Her attention returns to the paper, and I reach for the carafe to pour myself a cup of coffee. When I got home last night, that presence was back. My insides were jumpy and unsettled, the same as last night. It wasn’t as strong, but it lingered in the yard.

“Did you have a visitor last night, Pen?” I lift the cup and take a small sip of the rich, dark blend.

“Hmm?” She tears her eyes away from the news to look at me.

“Last night? Did someone come to visit?”

“No…” Her brow lines, and I decide I must be losing it.

“Sorry. When I got home, it felt like someone had been here. Strange, like a presence I didn’t recognize.”

A shadow flickers across her face, and she hops out of her chair, going to the window. “I hate it when Dylan’s gone so long.”

I disagree with that sentiment, but I let it go. Penny’s far more attached to the notion of alpha-protector than I am, probably because she’s getting older. Bluish-purple jam is in a little pot to my left, and I spread it across a piece of toast.

The presence had troubled me when I got home, but before I went to bed, I looked out the window in case it was back. As I stood there, the most incredible sense of safety flooded my body. It was warm and secure, and I’d slept like a baby all night.

Tossing my napkin on the table, I quickly gulp the last of my coffee. “I’m going out for a hike.”

“Oh, be careful, Mercy.” Her eyes are still full of worry, but I’m happy remembering the warm sensation from last night.

“Don’t you worry about me.” I kiss her cheek. “I’m safe in our woods, and I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

She’s wringing her hands as I skip out the front door, headed across the lawn in the direction of the trees.

* * *

Sunlight blazes through my windows, forcing my eyes open. The air is crisp this morning, but I hear happy noises of breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing. The baby isn’t crying.

I’d left my post outside Mercy’s house as the first rays of dawn lifted the horizon and came straight to my apartment and crashed. Nothing unusual happened the rest of the night, and I spent the darkest hours intermittently dozing. I planned to head back out into those woods today and do more investigation.

It’s possible I was mistaken in what type of creature I sensed. It’s definitely not a shifter, but I’m out of practice when it comes to identifying rogue supernatural beings. The wave of unconsciousness it sent at me could be excused as self-defense, but I’m convinced it has bad intentions sneaking around Mercy’s window.

Thankfully, Andy gave me my partial check yesterday. I’ll sleep another hour then track down some place to get breakfast before heading into the woods. I’m just rolling over when a
WHAM!
hits my door with such force, I’m on my feet at shifter speed.

Moving quickly around the room, I grab my jeans and step into them, jerking them roughly over my hips.

WHAM!
It happens again, and anger is building in my chest. If someone or some thing has followed me home looking for a fight, it’s about to be sorry. Reaching forward, I jerk open the door just as a ladies shoe flies past my head.

“Watch it!” I shout, dodging to the side. I barely avoid catching a slipper in the face.

A creaky voice barks up to me from below. “You up, Kona?”

Groaning, I rub a hand over my eyes. I’ve given up trying to correct my elderly landlady on saying my name right.

I look down to see her standing at the base of the stairs dressed in a compact green suit that makes her look like a Lego person. She has a pillbox hat on top of her puffy white bouffant hairdo and a brown ladies’ boot is in her hand. I can only assume she was about to throw it at my door.

“Do you need something from me?” I say, still half inside my apartment.

“I need you to come down here.” Her voice is a stern order.

With a deep exhale, I leave my apartment and jog down the stairs. Her grey eyebrows are pulled together tight as always, but when I stop in front of her, she relaxes a bit with her smile. She reaches a wrinkled hand out and pats my bare stomach, pinching my skin.

“To be sixty years younger,” she murmurs, and I don’t miss the twinkle in her eye.

“You said you needed something.”

She snaps out of whatever naughty old lady thoughts she’s having and the frown is back. “I need you to take me to church. It’s Sunday!”

“Doris, I have plans for today.”

“Your plans can wait,” she turns and makes her slow progress back toward the house. “It’s a condition of renting the room. You have to escort me to church on Sundays.”

I catch up with her in a few strides and put a large hand on her shoulder. “Hang on a second and look at me.”

She pauses and lets her old eyes move slowly up my body. “I see you.” She nods. “You look good.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what kind of church you attend, but I’m guessing I have to wear something better than this to go.”

She nods and resumes moving at her slow pace, using her cane to keep her balance. “Come on.”

I watch her go through the silver screen door before hustling up to catch it and follow her inside. It’s the first time I’ve been in Doris’s small house, but it’s exactly as I would’ve expected—ancient.

The kitchen is a tiny square. Wooden cabinets and counter tops are painted spring green, and the floor is a network of tiny white tiles with green ones here and there in a design. Built-in shelves hold large dinner plates and platters, and her refrigerator and stove look like they’re left over from the 1950s.

I only have a second to note her small, metal table and four chairs. She’s through the house calling me to come back wherever she is. The living room is next, and a large recliner with a pink crocheted blanket thrown over the top is positioned in front of the television. A TV table is beside it holding a remote and what looks like Doris’s empty breakfast plate.

“Where are you?” I call, scanning the dark-wood paneled room.

A picture of Jim in a cap and gown is in a frame on an end table under a lamp.

“Back here,” she calls. “I’ve got something you can wear.”

Aw, shit
. After all this, I can only imagine the clothes I’m about to encounter. At least I’m confident whatever lime-green polyester leisure suit she’s got waiting for me won’t fit. Making my way down the short, dark hall, she’s in the first room to the right.

I step inside and freeze. “What the…” The words die on my lips.

She’s standing beside a charcoal suit that looks like an Armani. A white button-down and silver tie are on the single bed that has a patchwork quilt for a coverlet.

“You’re going to look mighty fine escorting me to church in this.” She grins, smoothing her fingers down the suit.

“Where did you get it?” I can’t believe my little old landlady just happened to have a suit exactly my size waiting around for me to show up and wear.

“Midge Henderson had a garage sale.” She waves her hand and starts for the front. “Services start in half an hour, so move your butt.”

I take the hanger off the closet door and scoop up the shirt. Only two things are missing. “I don’t have shoes.”

She’s back with a plastic bag. “You have pretty regular-sized feet for how… big you are everywhere else.”

I’m going to let that pass. “Okay,” is all I say.

“See if any of these will work. Mr. White had a weakness for shoes. Most of them are Italian.”

“I’ll take care of them.”

She waves a hand as I leave. “Wear them out. Shoes are no use to you when you’re dead.”

They sure come in handy when you’re living
, I can’t help thinking. Back in my apartment, I dump everything on the bed. Sleek black loafers in exactly my size spill out along with canvas slip-ons and sneakers I know an old man would never wear. I squint an eye back toward the house and wonder what else Doris White has up her sleeve.

The church is a one-room wooden building that looks as old as Doris. She holds my arm as we slowly climb the concrete steps leading up to the white structure. We’re just entering as organ music blasts triumphantly. I feel her giving me a scowl and look down.

“You made us late,” she gripes.

“It wasn’t on my schedule for today.”

“As if you have a Sunday schedule.” She smiles to an elderly man in a suit handing out folded-paper programs.

“Good morning, Doris,” he says smiling at her. When his eyes move to me, the smile dissolves.

I don’t smile back. The last thing I need is to give these guys any ideas about my interest in membership.

“You must be…” he waits, and Doris hastily fills in the blanks.

“My nephew Kona. He’s visiting from the islands.”

It’s an internal struggle, but I keep my expression neutral.
What the hell?

“The islands?” The old man frowns.

“We’d better get inside,” she says, giving my arm a tug.

“Nice to meet you,” I mutter, escorting her through the narrow door and down a skinny aisle.

She takes the lead, going straight to what I can only assume is her designated spot. I don’t make eye contact with any of the parishioners, but I do notice Jim sitting next to Sally at the end of our pew. She’s in a burgundy dress with little white flowers on it. Jim’s in a suit with his light-brown hair combed back, and I have to give him a second glance. He actually cleans up well. They’re both smiling way too much to be in church this morning.

A tug on my arm reminds me to sit down. My ass hits the pew just as everybody’s on their feet again, hymnals in hand. I don’t know any of the songs, but I hold the hardcover red book and do my best to follow along.

Finally, we seem to be finished sitting and standing, and an older fellow in a long, black robe with a deep purple sash ascends to elevated pulpit.

“Brothers and sisters,” he begins in an affected tone. “We’re entering that time of year when the conflict between good and evil grows more distinct in our midst.

“Ephesians teaches us our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against unseen enemies in the spiritual world…”

It’s difficult for me to sit through these types of sermons, as there’s so much more these well-meaning people don’t know. Still, the direction of this guy’s message sends my mind down the path of what I can do to track down the unseen enemy I encountered two nights ago.

I’m still thinking I encountered a powerful spirit from the underworld, only what would something like that be doing here? And what does it want with Mercy?

As much as she’s asked me to leave her alone, I’m afraid I might have to go against her wishes and tell her what I experienced. I don’t have to tarnish her pristine image to let her know her life might be in danger. I just wonder why…

I’m considering my words when everyone is on their feet again. I stand quickly, glancing around to see hymnals are in hands. Reaching down for the red book, I feel a sharp elbow in my kidney. Doris holds one up for us to share. I nod and look down at the words. I don’t know any of them, but I do my best to follow.

Books closed, the minister raises both hands over the congregation and recites a blessing. He’s done, and the entire room breaks as everyone makes their way to the door. I hang back unsure what the hell Doris expects me to do now.

“Jim,” she fusses at her actual nephew. “I know you’re bringing this young lady to my house for lunch today.”

“Oh yeah, Aunt D. This is Sally.” He motions to the girl, whose cheeks pink attractively. “Sally, this is my aunt Doris.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sally’s voice is timid as usual.

“I guess you know Kona,” Doris says.