Halston Sidney - Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1)

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Against the Cage is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. A Loveswept eBook Original Copyright © 2014 by Sidney Halston Excerpt from Full Contact by Sidney Halston copyright © 2014 by Sidney Halston All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York. LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Random House LLC. eBook ISBN 978-0-553-39096-4 Cover design: Georgia Morrissey This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Full Contact by Sidney Halston. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the

final content of the forthcoming edition. www.readloveswept.com v3.1

Contents

Cover Title Page Copyright Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Epilogue Dedication Acknowledgments About the Author The Editor’s Corner Excerpt from Full Contact

Chapter 1 “Fan-freaking-tastic!” Chrissy slammed her fists into the steering wheel of her piece-of-crap ten-year-old car. The red and blue lights flashed behind her. Annoyed, she pulled over to the side of the road. Not even an hour ago, she had broken one of the heels of her favorite red stilettos when she ungracefully left the courthouse and stumbled on a crack on the sidewalk. She then hobbled to her car; it was listing to one side, which she foolishly ignored. Of course, the lopsidedness was a flat tire, which became painfully evident a few minutes later as she was driving down the highway. She then called AAA and waited an hour for her tire to be changed. Now, the icing on the craptastic cake was making his way toward her car. Suddenly a blinding flashlight pointed right into her eyes. All she could see was black spots floating around her line of vision and an outline of a tall man outside her window. Just great! As soon as she began rolling down the window, the Florida heat and humidity flooded into the car, causing sweat to trickle down the nape of her neck and her hair to stick to the sides of her face. And, yes, she rolled it down manually because her crappy car didn’t have electric anything. “License and registration,” said the husky voice from

outside. Still seeing spots, she let out a loud sigh and shifted her body away from the window to grab the heavy oversized mess of a purse that sat on the floor of the backseat. Her hands shook slightly and her eyes squinted as she looked for her license in what some might consider small carry-on luggage rather than a purse. She felt her pulse accelerate; she hated dealing with police officers. Who didn’t? God, where was her license? As soon as she got her life together, getting her purse organized would be the first order of business, she thought, berating herself for being such a mess. When she finally found her driver’s license in the black hole she called a purse, she let out a triumphant “Aha!” Then she reached toward the glove compartment and began throwing out papers in search of the elusive registration. After organizing her purse, the glove compartment in her car would be next on her to-do list. “Anytime now, ma’am,” he said as his fingers drummed on the roof of her car. It was annoying. She groaned. “Did you just growl at me, ma’am?” No, stupid. I groaned, not growled. She groaned again. “Lady, I’m speaking to you.” After the day she’d had, all she wanted was to get the hell out of this Podunk town, which just happened to be

the town where she’d grown up. Not having returned since she was eighteen, she regretted the moment she’d answered Slade’s phone call that morning asking her to bail him out of jail. For eleven years she had avoided Tarpon Springs, Florida. Eleven long drama-free years. And now, after the series of events that had transpired during the last twelve hours, she realized why. This town brought out the worst in her. “Here it is!” she squealed victoriously, and without looking, she hastily swung her arm toward the open window to hand the officer her documents. Instead of a hand meeting hers, she found herself ramming her paperwork right into a bulge. A very large bulge. A moan and an “ugh” was all she heard before he crumpled. “Oh, my!” She clasped both hands to her mouth, mortified. “Oh my God, Officer, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—” “Shh!” he snapped at her from the ground. Unable to open the door because he was crouched against it, muttering something she couldn’t make out, Chrissy unbuckled her seatbelt, stuck her head out the window, and looked down. “Please tell me I didn’t just hit you in the …” She was too humiliated to say the word. “In the balls? Yes, lady, you punched me right in the balls.” “I’m so sorry, Officer. It was an accident. I’ve had a

terrible day. My purse is a mess, which made me nervous ’cause I wasn’t sure where my license was—and, by the way, you tapping your fingers on the roof of my car wasn’t helping, not that I am using your incessant tapping as an excuse, but really, it didn’t help—and anyway, AAA took forever, and then you blinded me with your lights, I couldn’t see, and then—” Okay, now she was rambling a mile a minute. She shook her head frantically, as if that would stop the verbal diarrhea from spewing out of her mouth. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, I am so, so sorry. I’m a doctor—let me help you.” “No! No. Just stay in the vehicle. I think you’ve done enough. Just give me a second to recover,” he grumbled, sounding a few octaves too high. She settled back into her seat, her cheeks flaming. There she’d been, thinking optimistically that things couldn’t possibly get any worse, and then bam! she rammed a cop right in the nuts. She’d probably get arrested for this. Life imprisonment. It was plausible, considering the kind of day she’d had. “Officer?” Chrissy stuck her head out the window once again, adjusting the eyeglasses that had dropped to the end of her nose. “Can you just be quiet for a goddamn minute!” he snapped at her. He was still crouched down, his back to her car. Now that the spots weren’t impairing her vision, she could see the back of his khaki shirt, his shoulders hunched as, she presumed, he clutched his manhood.

The shirt looked like it was struggling not to rip down the middle from the strain that went shoulder to shoulder across his very wide back. “You don’t have to be an ass,” she murmured under her breath. But as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth, she regretted them. “Did you just call me an ass, right after punching me in the balls? Ya know, I’ve Tasered people for less.” There it was: domineering alpha male who thought he could go around intimidating women. The precise definition of a cop in her book. She sat back and crossed her arms. “I didn’t punch you in the nuts. Well, I did. But it was an accident. I’m trying to help. I already apologized. By the way, you shouldn’t be so close to the street. It’s night out, and a car could run you over.” He cleared his throat. “You’re right. That’s what you learn in Traffic 101 at the academy. Although I don’t remember learning the correct protocol for this particular scenario, where a crazy woman punches you in the balls. I’m wondering what the proper procedures should be.” Behind the pain, his voice hinted at amusement. Ever so slowly, Officer Domineering stood up and turned toward her window, one arm holding on to the roof of her car, bringing her face-to-face with his nowinjured male organ. She cleared her throat nervously. Gingerly he bent down to window level, and for the first time she was able to see his face. Like a lightning

bolt, Chrissy’s past—a past she so wanted to forget— collided right into her. “Holy shit! Fuck. My. Life!” She closed her eyes and thumped her forehead against the steering wheel.

Jack squinted. “Chris?” “Hi, Jack.” “Now it all makes sense. You punched me in the balls on purpose!” “No way! That was completely by accident. But had I known it was you, the results would have probably been the same.” “What are you doing back in town?” “I think you know,” replied Chrissy. “Your brother?” She nodded. “Yep. The one and only, the notorious Slade Martin.” “He shouldn’t have called you. I was going to handle it tomorrow,” said Jack. “Too late now. I’m here. So, now that you know it’s me, you sure I can’t charm my way out of this ticket?” Jack chuckled. “Charm was never your strong suit, Chris.” When Slade was five and Chrissy was two, their

mother had died, and their father, Richard Martin, had uprooted them from Miami, Florida, moving them five hours northwest to Tarpon Springs. Slade had told Jack how his father thought it would be better to raise his children in the small town, closer to his best friends, Abbot and Joan Daniels, Jack’s parents. As luck would have it, the house right next door to the Danielses had been for sale, and within three months of his wife’s death, Richard had purchased the small oceanfront home. Jack and Slade had met when they both ate sand from the sandbox in kindergarten (and they’d both gotten sick from it), and from that time on the boys had been best friends. Inseparable, really. Three years younger, Chrissy tried to tag along with them everywhere, but she had been nothing but a nuisance. Where she’d always been Chris the Priss, the straight-A do-no-wrong tattletale, Jack and Slade were the always-in-trouble, barelypassing-their-classes menaces of the town. It was a nobrainer that Chrissy would get the hell out of Dodge (or in this case hot, humid, mosquito-infested Tarpon Springs) as soon as she had the opportunity. She’d left a few months after graduating from high school. Jack had never had a chance to say goodbye—one day he’d woken up and Chrissy was gone. When he’d last seen her, she’d been a frumpy, slightly overweight bookworm with a short black pixie hairdo. She’d always worn glasses, and her clothes were always on the practical side. There wasn’t anything

extraordinary about her looks. By no means was she ugly, she was just … Chris. His best friend’s nerdy little sister. Not exactly one of the boys, but she did try to hang around her brother and his friend as much as possible. She hated getting dirty, but tried to play in the mud because Slade and Jack were playing in it. She tried her hand at stickball, but got hurt more times than not. She’d tried so hard to impress them, but always failed. But neither was she into ballet or frilly dresses, like the other girls. She was into reading and homework. She was the town darling and everyone loved her. Probably because she was friendly and didn’t know the meaning of no. In truth, she was a pushover—he’d even say meek. She’d always ended up doing whatever Slade or Jack said. No questions asked. Sometimes she’d stomped her feet or pouted, but she still ended up doing whatever they said. The woman staring back at him now didn’t look like she’d be caught dead playing stickball or anywhere close to mud. She sure as hell didn’t seem meek. And she sure as hell wasn’t trying to impress him. She looked furious that he’d stopped her. In fact, she was seething, and he could feel the heat coming out of her pores, even through the barrier of the car door between them. The glasses were still there, highlighting the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, but from what he could see from the neck up, that was all that remained the same. Now she had a spark in her eyes that had been missing all those years ago.

Suddenly he was dying to see the rest of her. He didn’t normally abuse his position of power, but … He attempted to give her his I’m-a-police-officer-whomeans-business face that normally intimidated the hell out of everyone, but he couldn’t seem to hide his smirk. He hoped she didn’t notice. “Have you been drinking?” “What? No!” Yep, she’s definitely seething. “Are you sure? You were driving rather erratically,” he lied. “No, I was not. Maybe I was going slightly over the speed limit, but I was not driving erratically.” “Why don’t you step out of the car?” “Are you serious?” She looked as if she was going to reach out and wring his neck. This is new! If there was one thing he didn’t remember, it was an angry Chris. “As a heart attack.” She let out an amused snort. “Did you just cliché me? Ugh! Could this day get any fucking worse?” “You curse a lot.” “Get out of my way, Jack Daniels, so that I can show you I’m not drunk. If I can prove it, may I go without a ticket?” “Yes. I’ll let the speeding ticket go if you pass the sobriety test and don’t call me Jack Daniels again.” “Fine. But that is your name.” “Yes. But you’re mocking me.” “How? I’m not the one who named you Jack Daniels.

Blame your parents for that. And don’t call me Chris. I hate it.” “Fine. I won’t call you Chris, Christine.” “Chrissy, please. Not Christine, not Chris. Definitely not Chris the Priss. Just Chrissy. You never were capable of calling me Chrissy, for some reason.” “Because it was more fun to get you all riled up.” “Some things never change. Eleven years later and you’re still mean to me,” she said, her hands still clenched around the steering wheel. “Okay, fine. For the sake of fairness, I’ll stop. Chrissy it is. And you know how I feel about my name. I don’t need a smart-ass teasing me. Especially when that smartass should be a little worried about not passing a sobriety test and assaulting a police officer.” “I didn’t assault you. It was an accident. Just get out of the way so I can open the door.” He stood aside as she opened the door. One long, fair, well-defined leg in the sexiest red high heels he’d ever seen stepped out of the car. Then the other. Jesus Christ! Is this the same goofy little Chrissy Martin? Jack felt as if he had somehow transformed into one of those cartoon characters whose eyes popped in and out of its sockets. Holy hot legs, Batman! He silently prayed that she had grown a tail or a third arm, because all he’d seen so far was causing his brain to melt down. He didn’t think he could handle any more,

and all he’d seen so far were her legs. She finally got out of the car and went to take a step forward but then she lost her balance and stumbled toward the ground. Instinctively he reached toward her, grabbed her waist, and pulled her up before her face made contact with the street. The full length of her frame was flush against his body. Every single little inch was pressed against him. He gulped. Actually gulped. A few beats of awkward silence later, he reached for her chin with his finger and brought her face up to meet his eyes. “You okay?” “Uh … yeah. I forgot I had a broken heel.” She brought her right foot up behind her and looked over her shoulder. He leaned in toward her body to look at the broken heel, bringing them closer together, if that was even possible. “What a shame. Those were nice shoes,” he said, inches from her ear. “Tell me about it.” She moved back a little, and he reached forward with his index finger and pushed her glasses back up her nose. He’d never had a reaction like this to a woman before. She straightened her black dress and ran her fingers through her long black hair. She stood up straight, shoulders back. Ready for war, it seemed. Well, one thing hadn’t changed—she was still self-righteous and proud. But Little Miss Pushover was gone. And he was liking this new and improved hellcat. “So, where do you want me?” Chrissy asked as she took off her shoes.

Completely naked and spread over the hood of my police cruiser with that tiny little black dress pulled up over your hips, is what he almost blurted out. “Excuse me?” he managed to say instead. “The sobriety test. I’ve never had to do one of these. What do I do?” “You know what? Never mind. You can’t do a sobriety test in a shoe with a broken heel, and I don’t want you walking on the side of the road barefoot.” “Does that mean you’re going to give me a ticket?” “No. Just go,” he barked. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’ve always been such an ass. I guess you haven’t changed.” “I’m sorry, Chris. It’s been a long day. I don’t mean to be a jerk. Where are you staying while you’re in town?” “Chrissy,” she said through gritted teeth. “What?” “You called me Chris. I was correcting you.” “Oh, shit. Sorry. Habit, I guess.” She wasn’t a Chris any longer. No sign of the nerdy little girl anywhere. She was all woman, from the tips of the sexy-as-hell high heels to the top of the jet-black hair on her head. “At Slade’s house,” she answered. He looked at her, confused, and she snapped her fingers at him, bringing him back to the present. “You asked me where I was staying. I’m answering. I’m staying at Slade’s. I kind of have to break in.” She leaned into him a little and whispered, “Don’t tell the cops,” then giggled. He had

forgotten all about her giggle. She was a giggler. It was infectious. He used to think it was annoying. What an idiot he’d been. “Why?” “I don’t have a key. You know I let him have the house after Dad passed away, and it’s been years since I’ve been back. Technically, it’s half mine, so it’s not really breaking and entering.” “Come on. Follow me home. I have a spare key,” said Jack. “You do?” “Yeah. He’s like a brother to me, you know that. He has a spare key to my house too.” “Oh, okay. Where do you live?” “Same place.” “You mean you still live with your folks?” she said incredulously. Her face was full of judgment and pity. That had always been her thing—she was judgmental as hell. He didn’t remember caring so much about her judgments eleven years ago, but he sure as hell cared now. In fact, he was suddenly angry, and he wasn’t even sure why he felt a need to correct her. “No, Chris. I don’t live with my folks. I bought the house from them before they moved to a retirement community a few miles away.” She took a step forward, closing the gap between them, and poked his chest with her index finger. “Do. Not. Call. Me. Chris! And it’s great that you bought the

house. It was just a question, so relax. I didn’t mean anything by it. You don’t have to be so moody.” He grabbed her finger with his big hand. “I’m not moody. You’re just so judgmental.” “I wasn’t being judgmental,” she answered. He looked at her in disbelief, and her shoulders slumped. “Okay, maybe I was being a little judgmental. Seeing you reminded me of that girl that you and Slade used to push around, and I guess it made me defensive. I’m sorry. Look, it’s been a terrible day. I just need a long hot bath and a good night’s sleep so I can go to Slade’s arraignment tomorrow morning and bail him out.” “Okay, let’s go. Come on. Follow me home.” He waited for her to get into her car, then walked back to his police cruiser. A few hours earlier, he’d been called to a bar fight, where he’d had to wrestle four guys into handcuffs. He was at the tail end of a very long shift, and all he’d wanted to do was go straight home, drink a nice cold beer, and sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Dealing with a speeding driver was the last thing he’d had in mind. But his sense of duty had gotten the best of him, and he had stopped her—not knowing that a pair of smoldering blue eyes waited for him in the driver’s seat. He found himself adjusting his pants a few times on his way home, and it wasn’t from the punch to his balls. She was gorgeous. The once insecure, slightly overweight, frumpy girl was now a confident,

voluptuous, well-put-together stunner. He was glad she still wore the glasses. On anyone else, the thick black frames probably would’ve looked goofy, but on Chrissy, it gave her that naughty-nurse look men fantasized about. As he drove, his mind drifted to Christine, the naughty nurse, who wore a short white dress—tight on the top, accentuating the swells of her overly-large-for-her-smallframe breasts—giving him just the teensiest preview of the garter from her stockings, and a little white hat that contrasted severely with her pin-straight inky black hair. Jack could picture her bending over to check his reflexes and reaching up to his mouth to put a thermometer in, and of course she would be a good and thorough nurse and ask him in the softest, shyest voice to please pull down his pants so that she could examine … Get a fucking grip, Daniels! Did you just make little Chris a porn nurse? What is wrong with you, dude? Snap out of it! She wasn’t even a nurse, she was a doctor. The last he’d heard, she’d been overseas volunteering her medical services in third-world countries. She was so out of his league, he couldn’t even see the field. But hell if he wasn’t completely turned on by her unexpected attitude. She hadn’t been like that before. She had always been smart and goofy. But feisty and sultry? Nope, never feisty, and never ever sultry. She would do something Slade and Jack didn’t like and they’d scold her and she’d just take it, never rebelling. Yet she’d still follow him

and Slade around like a little puppy. He hated when she would hang around his and Slade’s friends. They were all hooligans and he damn well knew it. She had no business being a sidekick in their troublemaking schemes. But then the last few months before she left, she had avoided him like the plague. He had always wanted to ask her why, but she’d been gone before he ever had the chance.

Chapter 2 “Christ, has he always been so … so … There are no proper words. Male! That’s the word! I can’t believe I punched him in the nuts. How humiliating!” Chrissy gave herself a self-deprecating thump to her forehead. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Growing up, Chrissy had always had a crush on Jack, but his jerkiness overshadowed the crush. In fact, it crushed the crush. Every time she found herself swooning over Jack, and she had swooned often, he’d do something to remind her of what an ass he really was. Slade had always ignored her and pushed her away. But whereas her brother completely overlooked her, Jack never did. He was always the one who brought her straight back home when she snuck into one of their backyard cage fights. He always scolded her when she did something he considered to be reckless, like joining the girls’ basketball team. He told her: “You’re gonna get hurt, Chris. You’re a munchkin. What do you know about basketball?” Or like that one time, senior year of high school, when she wanted to go to a party hosted by the head cheerleader. The plan had been to sneak out of the house after her father went to bed. Her best friend, Veronica, had lent her some clothes and helped her with her hair and makeup. Chrissy even decided against

glasses that night—it didn’t matter that she couldn’t see two feet in front of her. She had been so excited. It was a cool-kids party, and she and Veronica were going to flirt with Roger and Nick, some wrestlers on the varsity team. She was sure Roger would finally notice her; she was, after all, wearing a tiny denim skirt. That night she had planned to indulge in her first kiss, and Roger was the target. As soon as they arrived at the party, they noticed the crowd cheering around a table where a game of beer pong was under way. One of the teams the crowd was chanting around was none other than Slade and Jack. After gulping down big red cups of beer, Slade and Jack glanced sideways and saw Chrissy. Both guys glared at her. Slade rolled his eyes, annoyed, and said something along the lines of “go home.” She shook her head and stomped her feet. Yes, stomped her feet. Just like a toddler. Jack didn’t even bother to talk; he grabbed her by the wrist, dragged her into his car, and drove her home, all the while lecturing her on why she shouldn’t and couldn’t be at the party. The excuses mostly centered on how she’d cramp their style while they tried to get laid. The worst part was that Veronica, her best friend of six years, completely stopped talking to her after that night. Lots had changed since then. She wasn’t the same naïve and defenseless little girl any longer. She was a woman. A woman who’d been through a lot. She had lived in the worst parts of the world and survived. She’d

been through hell and back in her personal life and survived. That stupid love-struck teenager was gone, and now every time Jack gave her one of those pantydropping dimpled smiles, she’d remember how mean he had been to her growing up and how he’d ruined her relationship with her best friend. How he’d never seen her as anything other than Chris the Priss, a dorky little sister in need of a protective big brother. How he had stifled her and never let her do what she wanted. But she had managed just fine for the last decade, and she didn’t need a man to watch over her like that now. If Jack thought he could swoop in after eleven years and push her around like he used to, he was totally mistaken. I am woman, hear me roar! Roar! She had riled herself up, and only snapped back to reality as she approached her house, Jack still driving his cruiser in front of her car. “He’s an ass. Keep chanting that to yourself, Christine. Don’t let the gorgeous looks confuse you. Ass. Ass. Ass …” God, she wanted to see that ass. Naked. In her bed. No, wait! That’s not right. A few moments later she pulled into the driveway of Slade’s house and he pulled into his. “Were you talking to yourself?” he hollered from across the lawn as she got out of the car. “Huh?”

“I couldn’t see too well since it’s dark out, but I thought I saw you in my rearview mirror talking to yourself. You’re animated when you talk, and your hands were flailing around, like you were having a conversation with someone.” She laughed, though to her ears it came out sounding a little hysterical. Humiliation seemed to be the theme of the day. “Just singing. I sing sometimes,” she lied. He looked at her questioningly for a moment, but apparently decided against commenting. “Come inside. I have to look for the key. I haven’t used it in years.” She leaned against her car. “It’s okay. I can wait here.” “Don’t be stubborn. Just come in.” She pushed off the car, let out a breath, and walked— well, hobbled, since she was missing one heel—across Slade’s front lawn to his. Jack opened the front door of his house and moved aside to let her inside first. “Do you mind if I take my shoes off? It’s hard to walk with one four-inch heel and one flat shoe.” “Sure. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” Chrissy couldn’t stop stealing glances at him when he wasn’t looking. She couldn’t believe how different he looked after all these years. He had always been tall, and that hadn’t changed—she estimated he was at least six foot three now—but he’d been leaner back then. Skinny, actually. And whereas he used to have long dark blond hair that, when he didn’t have it tied back, would always annoyingly fall into his face, now his head was shaved—

not completely bare, but almost. Only the slightest stubble of hair adorned his head, and she imagined it felt like prickly sandpaper. It was the kind of bald head that made women want to rub it. She was certain it was shaved purely for esthetic purposes, probably to add to his bad-boy image. He was extremely bulky, and she was sure there were muscles on top of muscles hidden under his uniform. Wide shoulders, wide neck, and thick biceps. The smooth lines and boyish features of his face had disappeared and been replaced by harder and more defined lines that came only with age. To someone else, his dark brown eyes and chiseled cheekbones would seem intimidating, but not to her; she knew he was all bark and no bite. Well, maybe a little bite. Plus, on those rare occasions when he smiled, the glorious dimples on his face softened his overall I’m-a-badass-so-beware look. He was currently sporting a five o’clock shadow that matched the short length of hair on his head. It made her imagine how it would rasp against her inner thigh. Where did that thought come from? In addition to his khaki shirt, his police uniform also consisted of ugly khaki shorts. However, they were far from ugly on him. The shorts strained against his burly thigh muscles. My God, one of his thighs was almost as wide as her entire body. Okay, not quite, because she wasn’t exactly petite, but standing next to him made her feel tiny. As he made his way up the set of stairs, Chrissy took

off her shoes and looked around. The layout of his house was identical to that of her old house right next door. But it wasn’t exactly as she remembered. Jack’s mom had decorated the place on the kitschy side, with knickknacks everywhere and not a single inch left undecorated. But now Chrissy stood in a simple and warmly decorated bachelor pad. “Warm” and “bachelor pad” could have been an oxymoron, but not in Jack’s home, she noted. Even though it lacked a female’s touch, the furniture was nice and airy, typical of Florida beachfront properties. The television was huge but didn’t take up the entire wall the way most men’s electronics usually did. And instead of it hanging on the wall with a lawn chair planted in front, it was set atop a nice wooden hutch opposite a white linen sofa with blue decorative pillows. Closer to the kitchen, there was a round wooden dining table with matching chairs. She turned the corner and walked into the kitchen, which had been redone. There were brand-new stainless-steel appliances surrounded by dark wood cabinets with granite countertops. Everything was simple and tasteful. The wall that faced the ocean had been replaced by windows. If it hadn’t been night, she would’ve been able to see the ocean from the living room. She stood by the window and squinted. She could faintly hear the ocean and see the outline of the sea oats and sea grape plants that gently swayed with the ocean breeze. “Hungry?” The gruff voice startled her.

She turned around to see Jack leaning against the doorframe. “No, I’m okay. Just looking at the view. Trying to, at least. It’s too dark. Your house is lovely. You did all this?” She waved her arm around. “I did.” He nodded proudly. “When my parents moved away, I got rid of most of my mom’s leopardprint chairs, gold-plated vases, and anything and everything pink and zebra-striped.” Chrissy laughed. “She always did have interesting taste.” “She still does. You should see their apartment. It’s awful. I don’t know how Dad puts up with it. Anyway, I went on a shopping spree and basically bought a display that was already color coordinated and combined. ‘Island Chic,’ it was called.” He air-quoted the name. “So I didn’t have to think too much. It was all already done for me at the store.” “Well, still, you have good taste. You could’ve chosen something like ‘Space-Age Chic,’ but instead you went simple and classy.” She giggled nervously. All of a sudden she couldn’t seem to get a handle on her nerves. “Is that a compliment? I think that’s the first time in twenty years I’ve heard you say anything nice to me.” “Well, it’s hard to say something nice to someone who’s always being an ass.” He looked a little sorry, which made her feel guilty for having insulted him—yet again. She’d never been in this situation with Jack before. It was unsettling. He slowly

stalked over to her, and her heart started to beat faster. His eyes looked down toward her mouth, and Chrissy began to think he was going to kiss her. That was the last thing she wanted. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. She could feel his breath by her neck as he reached over a few inches above her head and to the right and flipped a switch, then stepped back. Damn it, why didn’t he kiss me? He nodded toward the window, and she turned around. “What I really wanted to do was make sure I could see the ocean from the house at any time. That’s the whole point of living by the ocean, isn’t it?” “Wow, Jack. That’s amazing. It’s beautiful. You did good. Real good.” She couldn’t help but smile. With the outdoor floodlights on, she could see the beach. It was eerie to see it deserted. She was used to the actionpacked beaches of Miami. But this was different. There was a boardwalk that went from his backyard over small sand dunes and sea grass to an empty beach. The fact that Jack was merely inches away unnerved her, so she quickly took a step to the side and changed the subject. “So about that key?” He gave her a wary look and held out a shoebox full of keys. The box jingled. “It’s one of these.” “Shit.” She plopped down on the chair right in front of her. “I know. There are a lot of keys in here. Let’s go next door and try them one by one.”

“I don’t want to put you out. Are you still on duty?” “No. I was on my way home when I pulled you over.” “Well, I’m sure I’m interrupting some sort of date or something. I can do it myself.” She reached for the box, but he pulled it away. “It’s no trouble. The only plan I had was to make myself a sandwich and plop in front of the television with Drogo for the next forty-eight hours. But if you don’t mind waiting, I’d love to take a quick shower first. I’ve been on duty for twelve hours now, and I feel grimy.” “Drogo?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “My Chihuahua,” he said. He opened a door and out came the smallest dog Chrissy had ever seen. “Oh my goodness!” she squealed, and clapped her hands together. She loved animals and instantly reached for the tiny little dog with the spiked collar, but Jack quickly scooped up the pup with his palm before she had a chance to touch the little guy. “He bites. He’s a quarter pit bull,” Jack said matter-offactly. “Oh, please. How can that tiny little beauty bite?” Chrissy went to reach for the dog again, but Jack moved the animal behind him. His hand was larger than the dog. “You must be kidding about the pit bull thing.” Chrissy laughed. “Trust me. He bites and growls. The whole nine yards. He has a Napoleon complex. Thus the name Drogo.”

Chrissy looked at him quizzically. “Uh … sorry. I don’t think I know what or who a Drogo is.” He waved a hand. “Don’t worry ’bout it. It’s just the name of a character, Khal Drogo, from a show I watch. The guy is big and tough, and I was watching the show one night when this little thing came to my doorstep barking and growling at me like the character. I opened the door expecting to find a German shepherd.” “Hmm. Not a lot of television in the places I visit overseas.” She put her hands behind her back and moved forward a little to speak with the tiny black dog with huge bulging eyes. The animal looked so at odds with its big owner. “I’ll make you love me. Just you see, little Drogo,” Chrissy cooed. Jack laughed. “Don’t call him little, he hates that. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. He’s bitten several people. All of whom underestimated him. Including your brother. Actually, he bites your brother a lot,” he snickered as he set the dog down. “Okay, okay. I’ll be careful. Go ahead and take your shower. I’ll make you a sandwich while I wait.” “Are you sure?” he asked. “Of course. Still like ham, cheese, and butter, or did we finally graduate to mayo, mustard, lettuce, and tomatoes?” “Nope. Still the butter. Vegetables are for girls. Ham and cheese is man food,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t believe you still remember.”

“How could I forget? I made you sandwiches every day the entire summer before my junior year of high school, so you and Slade could beef up and kick ass in the ring.” “That’s right. I forgot about that. That’s the year we got into cage fighting. How’d you get stuck making us sandwiches?” “Dad made me. He said that you two needed calories for the amount of hours you were working out, and he didn’t want you guys passing out. He was at work, and so were your folks, and I wasn’t doing much that summer, so I was tasked with the honors. I always tried to change things up, but you’d get grumpy when it wasn’t the usual ham, cheese, and butter. Slade was always peanut butter and jelly.” “Well, the ham, cheese, and butter are in the fridge and the bread is in the pantry. Get to work, woman.” He winked at her and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Wh-what are you doing?” she stammered. “Oh, sorry. Force of habit, I guess. I always dump my shirt in the basket in the laundry room.” He pointed behind Chrissy. “There’s a lady that comes once a week to iron them for me.” Unsure where to look, although really she wanted to stare at his bare chest, she made herself busy in the kitchen while Jack placed his gun and holster on the kitchen counter, tossed his shirt into a large basket, and headed upstairs. While she made the sandwiches she

carefully placed a few bits of ham and cheese by her feet for Drogo, who cautiously made his way closer and closer to her until he finally reached the scraps, sniffed them, and then walked pompously away, not bothering to taste them. Chrissy laughed. She knew animals, and food always got them on your side. She was going to figure out what the pup liked to eat, and win him over. If all she accomplished while in town was winning Drogo’s affection, so be it. After she finished making Jack’s sandwich, she placed it on a plate with some potato chips she found in the pantry and grabbed a beer for him. Then she slumped down on his couch. It had been a long day. That morning, after almost a year of dating, Gary had broken up with her via text. Yes, text! She had been upset about the breakup but not devastated. What had stung the most was the casual send-off. She had seen potential in Gary. He was a good guy. Like Chrissy, he was a doctor. But unlike Chrissy, he was a filthy-rich plastic surgeon who didn’t understand why she had to be “traipsing around godforsaken countries.” He wanted a wife who’d stay home, have his babies, and have dinner ready for him when he arrived. What did he think this was, the 1920s? He’d hoped she would tire of all the traveling and settle down with him in Miami. What she hadn’t told him before the insensitive text was that she hadn’t renewed her contract with the nonprofit that organized her trips overseas and was planning on taking

a job offer at Miami West Hospital. Not twenty minutes into her pity party, complete with anger and vindictiveness as the guests of honor, she had received a call from Slade telling her he’d been arrested on charges of assault and battery and needed bail money. Within an hour of the call, she was on the road heading north to Tarpon Springs. As soon as she arrived in town, she’d gone straight to the jail, where she spoke with Officer Ramos, who was handling the case. He let her know what time Slade’s arraignment would be the next morning, and suggested she hire a bail bondsman. She asked if she could please see Slade. Officer Ramos agreed to a five-minute visit. Of course, Slade looked like his normal nonchalant self. As if the five-hour drive she’d made and the fact that she would need to cough up money to get him out of jail were no big deal. As if it were her duty to help him. Not a “Thank you, sis, for dropping everything and bailing my ass out of jail.” Not even a “How are you doing, sis? It’s been years since I’ve seen you.” Nothing. But she owed it to him and their dad to help him. He was her brother, after all. He’d do it for her. Maybe. Probably not. Irritated, she had walked out of the jail after her very brief visit with her brother and stumbled on a crack on the sidewalk. A crack that was now the proud owner of one beautiful red four-inch heel. She’d tried to pry it out,

but the heel was jammed in too tightly. So she left the heel in the middle of the sidewalk, stood up, gathered her dignity from the ground, and straightened her black dress. Head held high, she wobbled, like a pirate with one wooden leg, all the way to her piece-of-shit car and started for her old house. But the tire went flat, which was the reason for the call to AAA. After waiting an hour for AAA, she’d thought that nothing else could possibly happen. But of course the fates had been out to get her, and she had been stopped by Officer Domineering. Now, about twelve hours after being dumped, she was sitting in her childhood neighbor’s house with a fivepound beast growling at her and refusing to eat the ham and cheese she had offered. Plus she’d probably have to spend an hour searching through a box of keys. She’d definitely fallen down the wrong rabbit hole. She should have just broken into the house, skipped the bath, and gone straight to the nearest bed. Exhaustion overtook her body. She tucked her legs under her on the couch, trying not to think about the hellish day she’d just had.

“I hope I didn’t take too lo—” Jack strode into the living room to see a tiny sleeping ball on his couch. She looked so small on his big white sofa. It was quite the contrast:

her long straight pitch-black hair and black dress against the white of the couch. Her alabaster legs were tucked under her, her head rested on the arm of the couch, and her dress had unceremoniously inched up her thighs. Drogo was sitting on the floor, inches from Chrissy’s face, staring. It was odd, because he normally went in for the kill—okay, maybe not a kill, since his teeth were tiny, but he definitely tended to bite. Instead, he was just sitting there staring at her. Not exactly a friendly staredown, but not menacing either. People never believed Jack about the pit bull blood that ran through Drogo’s veins, but it was true. What kind of man would have a girly little Chihuahua? Not a real man, and Jack was a real man. His dog had spirit, even if that spirit didn’t match its size. And when the dog bit, his jaw locked and didn’t let go. Pit bull for sure. Real men had pit bulls. He looked over at his dining table to see that she had set the sandwich and a beer on a place mat she’d found in one of the drawers. It felt nice to have someone at his home, taking care of him. Not wanting to wake her, he grabbed a small blanket he kept by the television and went to drape it over her, but Drogo ran toward the blanket, bit down, and pulled on the corner. Jack pulled harder, but the feisty dog wasn’t letting go. He yanked the blanket up, but the dog held on, dangling a foot off the floor. Damn dog! A year later and the dog still hated people—Jack included. After a somewhat long tug-of-war, Drogo finally

admitted defeat and released his death grip on the blanket, scampering back to his corner—most likely to plot revenge. The pup kept his eyes on Jack, showing off all of his little razor-sharp teeth in a move that clearly was meant to intimidate. If the dog could speak, he’d say: You win this battle, Daniels. But it’s on now! Jack softly draped the cover over Chrissy. He then went to the table and tried not to think about the woman who was sleeping on his couch. When he was finished, he put the plate in the dishwasher, grabbed the box of keys, and headed out toward her house. And of course, the last key he tried, after trying all three zillion keys, was the one that unlocked her door. “Yes!” he said out loud, to no one. Jack crossed the lawn back to his house, where he was greeted by a squeaky growl from Drogo. Jack rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to disturb Chrissy, but he felt bad leaving her to sleep on the couch all night. He crouched down with the intention of waking her, but just as he was about to gently tap her shoulder, he found himself pausing to admire her for a few moments. Asleep, she displayed no signs of the feisty attitude he’d witnessed earlier. She looked like an angel, even with her blackrimmed glasses partially crooked. He reached under her with both arms and lifted her effortlessly. Drogo eyed him cautiously but didn’t bother moving. As if by instinct, she snuggled closer to him, and he could smell her soapy scent. He started walking toward the door, but

apparently the movement startled her and she jerked, causing her to fall right out of his arms. Hastily, Jack reached down and pulled her up to her feet, their bodies brushing against each other on the way up, her hand lingering on his forearm. “Shit. You okay?” he asked. “Y-yeah.” She pulled her hand away as if she’d been electrocuted, straightened her skirt, and leaned back against the wall to put some distance between them. She looked at him as if she were prey and Jack were the big bad lion. There was a sudden electrical spark between them, and it took him about a year to move his attention from her legs all the way up to her big blue eyes. “What were you doing?” Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted. Her chest moved in and out, causing his eyes to want to dart down to the swells of her breasts, but he kept it controlled and arduously maintained eye contact. “Sorry, Chrissy. You looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. I was going to carry you home. I found the key and was able to unlock the door while you were sleeping. God, you smell good.” He hovered inches from her face, both his palms flat against the wall on either side of her head. She was caged in. His head moved down to her neck and she felt him breathing in her scent. “Oh. I guess I was tired. I must have dozed off. Did you eat?” She was talking a mile a minute. “Yeah. Thanks, it was delicious.” His thumbs, having a

mind of their own, reached toward her face and caressed her cheeks. Drogo growled, and Jack hushed him. He noticed her eyes glassing over, though they never left his, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. The sight of her pink tongue sent him over the edge. “And wh-what are you doing now?” “I’m getting ready to kiss you.” His voice was husky and low. “Oh.” She licked her bottom lip and whispered, “Is that a good idea, Ja—” He placed his index finger on her mouth to quiet her. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”

Chapter 3 Chrissy felt the butterflies in her stomach kick into high gear. Jack moved his head lower and oh so slowly brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. Automatically her lips parted and a little gasp escaped. Traitorous lips! That was all the permission he needed; his mouth crushed down on hers and his forearms gave way, his body melding into hers as he pressed her against the wall. His hand slid down the contour of her body as her right leg hitched around his hip. Traitorous leg! Her body parts were on cruise control; she didn’t seem to be in charge of them anymore, and they were up to no good! His knee nudged between her thighs, and as the kiss deepened so did her gyrations against him, their hips rocking together. Chrissy’s arms wrapped around his neck as she took the lead and deepened the kiss. It was a tug-of-war between their tongues. She nipped his lower lip and he groaned. He licked her upper lip and she moaned. Everything that made her inherently female was on high alert, and his very prominent hard-on rubbed against her. She sighed in pleasure. “Jack …” “I got you, babe.” He released her for a second, took half a step back, and peeled off his shirt. It took Chrissy

a minute to stop gawking. She had been right: there were muscles on top of muscles. All she wanted to do was lap him up. She responded by grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head. He took a step back to look at her. “Fuck,” he gasped when he saw her in just her itty-bitty black panties and a matching bra. In a split second he was on her again. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and her mouth happily accepted it. This time, instead of wrapping her arms around him, she reached between them and started undoing the button on his jeans. “Jack! Hurry, help me take these off.” Trying not to break contact with her mouth, he took his jeans off with one hand while swatting Drogo, who was jumping on his hind legs and snarling, with the other. “Go away, Drogo!” Jack commanded. From the corner of her eye Chrissy noticed something red. She pushed him away, still panting, and pointed to his hipbone. “What’s this?” She reached toward the waistband of his boxer shorts, where a big square BandAid stuck out. “What happened?” “Nothing. Just got hurt, is all. Don’t worry.” His jeans hit the floor and he again looked ready to pounce, but she kept him at arm’s length. “Wait, it’s bleeding. Look, it started to seep through. Let me take a look at it. It must hurt.” “Not as much as my dick is going to hurt if we stop now.”

She pointed to the couch. “Oh, don’t be a baby. Sit.” Jack groaned, picked up the incessantly snarling dog and set him on his pillow, and then sat down as instructed. Chrissy kneeled between his thighs. God, is she trying to kill me? Did I verbalize the nurse fantasy? Still mostly naked, she slowly began to take off the Band-Aid and gauze, and he winced. “It hurts, doesn’t it?” “Yeah, I guess it does. But only a little. It’s no big deal.” She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to pretend with me.” Once she lowered the waistband of his boxers a little and carefully removed all the bandages, she shook her head. “Shit, Jack. It looks pretty deep. Who taped you up? They did a terrible job. You should have gotten stitches on this. Did they even clean it out? It looks ripe for infection. How’d this happen?” She was inspecting the wound, but it didn’t go unnoticed that she was crouched down by his hip and directly in front of his hard-on, which was mere inches from her face. “I taped it up myself. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” He jumped when she touched along the edges of the cut. “Son of a bitch!” Jack hissed. “Go to my car and bring me the black backpack from the trunk. Luckily, I have some medical supplies in there from my recent trip.” “Chrissy, can we—” “Just go.” She pointed toward the door. “This is not

good, Jack. You may need stitches and antibiotics. I need to boil some water to sterilize my supplies.”

Clad just in white boxer briefs, Jack went outside, crossed his lawn, and strode to her car with the biggest hard-on he’d ever had in his entire life. Disconcerted yet wound up, he prayed that none of his neighbors would see him. But really, he didn’t care. His mind was elsewhere, specifically on the half-naked vixen inside his house playing nurse. Actually, his mind and all the blood in his body were elsewhere—south. He walked back in, startled to see her in his black Tshirt boiling water in his kitchen. She had to have been a late bloomer, because eleven years ago her breasts hadn’t been as full as they were now. She was small in stature but voluptuous where it counted—breasts and ass. “I think that should be the official uniform for doctors. In fact, you aren’t welcome back in my house unless you’re wearing one of my T-shirts and nothing else.” She giggled as she continued working in the kitchen. There’s that giggle again. That giggle is going to be the death of me. “Okay, go sit down.” She pointed toward a dining room chair, and he obligingly sat down. Drogo followed.

The dog looked at his owner, and it almost seemed as if he was concerned for Jack, because his tiny head tilted to the side and he let out a little whimper. Either that or the mutt was hungry. Probably the latter, Jack decided. Chrissy smiled at the pup and said, “Excuse me,” and Drogo actually moved. The dog didn’t bark, didn’t bite, didn’t disobey. He simply gave Chrissy room to work. Jack couldn’t believe what had just happened between Drogo the devil dog and Chrissy the dog whisperer. He knew she probably didn’t even realize she had just had a conversation with Drogo. When Chrissy began to work on Jack’s wound, she was assertive and in control, all business. Any sign of the wanton vixen had been wiped away, despite her stimulating attire. She pulled out another chair and sat down, taking out tape, scissors, more gauze, a needle, and little bottles filled with different liquids from her bag. He couldn’t help himself—she was just so close. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her. She squealed, and he placed her down on her knees between his parted thighs. “You want to work on me? Fine. But you do it right here. Between my legs.” He reached for her bag and slid it across the table so that it would be closer to her. She looked at him with those big sapphire eyes and smiled. The wanting in her eyes returned. At some point she had put her hair up into a tight bun, which made her look like a librarian. One of those fantasy librarians. As she prepared her supplies, he reached under the hem of

the shirt and rubbed her thighs, working his way up to her ass. She looked up at him as she straightened her glasses. “Never take those off. You’re a fantasy, you know that? This right here is a fantasy,” he said, pointing at her. “Oh, you’re into the whole doctor thing, aren’t you?” That made his imagination soar. Scratch the whole naughty-librarian thing. She was a naughty doctor. He could certainly work with that. In the span of an hour, he had managed to conjure up all sorts of role-play scenarios: nurse, librarian, doctor. What the hell had gotten into him? “No, baby, I’m into the whole sexy-Chrissy thing.” He wrapped an arm around her small waist, pulled her close to him, and began to plant openmouthed kisses along her neck. “I need to concentrate and you need to sit up. You’re being a very bad patient. I can’t get to your hip if you’re bent forward.” She pouted and moved back a little, but with a mischievous little wink. Oh, she was playing his game, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. “Sorry, Doc. It just hurts so much. Maybe you can kiss it and make it better,” Jack whined. Even though she was going along with the game, she continued to work diligently on his wound. “Oh, poor baby. Where does it hurt?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down and slowly dropped his gaze to between his legs. She laughed out

loud. “Well, as soon as I’m done fixing this”—she pointed to his hip—“maybe I’ll kiss that.” And she pointed to his throbbing erection. Suddenly she was all business again. She pushed him back against the chair and started rubbing alcohol on his open wound. “Fuck. That shit really stings,” he protested. “Oh, don’t be such a baby.” As she kept probing and prodding, he winced and clenched his teeth. “So, you didn’t tell me how this happened.” “Are you trying to make me forget that you’re inflicting major pain on me right now?” He flinched again when she rubbed something else on the cut. “Nope. I tried to do that with the flirting. Now I’m just really curious.” “Last week I was arresting a drunk driver, and he fought back with a broken bottle. I let my guard down because he was so drunk. I should’ve been more alert. It was my fault.” “You get injured a lot on the job?” she asked, concerned. “Not really. It was a rookie mistake.” “And you’ve been bleeding for a week and haven’t gotten it checked out?” “No. It was almost healed, but at last night’s fight I got kicked, and the wound reopened. I bandaged it up myself.” If Jack had wanted to get Chrissy’s full

attention, he’d just figured it out, because she stopped cold. “Fight?” “Yes. The card Slade and I were headlining last night.” “You mean you fight too?” “Yeah, of course. You knew that, though. Remember the sandwiches? We talked about this.” “That was a million years ago. I thought you’d grown up. You got a real job. You’re a cop, for Christ’s sake. What are you doing fighting?” As she spoke, she continued meticulously working on his cut. She pressed the gauze against the wound forcefully this time. “Hey, don’t take out your anger on my injury. You think you could be a little bit gentler?” Clearly she couldn’t, because he had to bite his tongue at the pain she was inflicting. “So, you’re a cop by day and a boxer by night? I don’t understand.” “No, I’m a cop all the time—night and day. And I’m not a boxer. Heard of MMA? Mixed martial arts? It’s sort of like a super-full-contact sport. It’s boxing, judo, kickboxing, and jiujitsu, all in one. When I’m not working I train, and a few times a year I fight. It’s a hobby that pays very well when I win. I love it, and I’m good at it.” She snorted. “Clearly.” “Your sarcasm is duly noted.” He grimaced as she kept working on him. “Injuries are normal in my line of work

—and when I fight. I’ve had far worse. And Slade … that guy’s probably had most of the bones in his body broken at one point or another.” “You say it like that’s a good thing.” “No, it’s not a good thing, but it’s not a bad thing either. It’s what we do. It’s what we’ve always done. I do it for fun. Your brother does it for a living. He’s a professional MMA fighter. I thought you knew that.” “Of course I knew that, but I never really saw you guys fight. I tried to sneak into some of those backyard matches, but you always took me home before I got to see anything. By the time Slade went pro, I was already out of town. And I always just assumed that once you became a cop you stopped fighting. I just don’t understand it. It’s so violent. And a lot of good it’s done —I have to bail him out of jail tomorrow, remember? Remind me, what was he charged with again?” He didn’t answer, and she finished bandaging him up in relative silence. “You need to change the dressing every day. You should’ve gotten stitches. It’ll leave a scar. But …” She let out a gush of air. “You’ll probably love the scar. You can brag about it with the guys,” she said as she began putting away all her things. “And the groupies who love an ass-kicking brawler.” Jack stood and helped her pack up. At the same time, Drogo began to bark. “Your brother didn’t do anything wrong last night. I had already left before it happened, but I know him better than anyone. I know he had a

good reason. I was going to talk to Chief Lyon tomorrow to have him released.” “Why didn’t you get him released today? It would have saved us all this aggravation. I wouldn’t have had to come here and we wouldn’t be fighting right now.” Chrissy looked down. “Drogo, hush!” she said sternly. The dog quieted. Jack scowled, both at Chrissy’s comment and at Drogo’s disloyalty. He pulled her toward him and crouched down to meet her gaze. “First of all, I didn’t know he’d call you. Normally he calls me—” “Normally? This happens often?” “Can you just listen for once?” He clasped her lips shut with his thumb and index finger. “Second, the fight wasn’t during our match. It happened afterward. It’s a long story, one that I prefer he tell you, but suffice it to say it was over a girl. I thought he should stay locked up for a day to cool off. And lastly, I couldn’t be fucking happier that you’re here. So I’m not sorry he called you.” “I hate that my brother is a professional fighter. I hate violence. I took an oath to help people, and you two idiots are getting yourselves beaten to a bloody pulp— my brother professionally, and you for what? Fun?” She was yelling now. “And I hate performing these stupidectomies. I—” “What did you say?” “Stupidectomies. That’s what I call it when I have to

bandage up someone for doing something stupid. And what you do—your fighting—it’s stupid! Maybe even stupider than Slade’s, because you do it for pleasure!” “I didn’t get hurt in the fight. I got cut while working. And let me stop you before you start your rant on my job. Sometimes I get injured at work. It’s par for the course with being a cop. I’m good at my job, Chris, but shit happens. Either way, I guess it doesn’t matter— apparently I’m just stupid. Thanks for putting down the one thing I enjoy doing apart from work. I suppose some things really haven’t changed. You’re still a selfrighteous bi—” He saw her flinch just as the word was about to come out of his mouth, and he stopped himself, but it was too late. “Bitch? Just say it. Don’t worry, I’ve heard far worse. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.” Drogo jumped up and down, barking, to join in the melee. Chrissy threw her bag over her shoulder, stepped over the yapping dog, and pushed Jack aside. Right before she reached the door she yelled, “By the way, you’re still an ass, Jack Daniels!” She stomped out of the house, slamming the door behind her. When she reached her house she noticed he was right on her heels, sans Drogo. “What are you doing? Go back home. Tend to your Chihuahua. Pit bull? Pfft! You’re delusional!” She was on a tear. “I hope you don’t think that we’re still going to, you know …” She shoved the door open, but he remained right

behind her. “What? Fuck? You can say the word—you’re a big girl, right? Yeah, we’re still going to fuck. But not tonight. Tonight I just wanted to make sure you were in the house safely.” “We?” Indignant, she whipped around to face him. “You and I are never going to happen. There is no we. I don’t date or screw bad boys. I don’t do one-night stands. And I hate violent men. Forget it happened. It was a colossal mistake. You were a jerk while we were growing up, and I will never forget that. What just happened was a momentary lapse of judgment. Last I recall, you hated me. I was just Slade’s annoying little sister.” All of a sudden he was unsure whether he wanted to shake her or throw her down and have his way with her right there on the floor just to shut her up. He decided neither was such a good option at the moment. “When you’ve calmed down, I’m going to bend you over that couch right there.” He forcefully turned her around so she could see the couch and whispered into her ear. “I’m going to rip off those tiny little things you call panties with my teeth, lick your pussy from behind, and then when you’re good and ready, I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t remember the Hippocratic oath.” Her chest rose and fell. Still standing right behind her, he nipped her neck and kissed right behind her ear. He knew she was turned on, but he also knew that if they

slept together tonight it would be out of anger and it would happen only once. And once with this firecracker of a woman would never be enough. He turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, Chrissy put on a conservative black pantsuit, slicked her hair back and tied it into a tight bun, applied very little makeup, and headed to court. The previous evening she had called Mr. Robertson, the only bail bondsman in town, and hired him. He was already there waiting for her. “Little Chrissy Martin! It’s been a helluva long time since you’ve been back. Sorry your brother’s troubles are the reason for your return. We’ve missed ya ’round here. You always were a ray of sunshine.” Chrissy smiled. Before she’d left for college, before all the crap that had made her a cynical mess, she really had had a sunny disposition. She’d volunteered at the neighborhood animal shelter, babysat some of the local kids, and was always friendly with the townsfolk. “Ya know, I was surprised when you called. There was a time when your brother used to keep me mighty busy. Disorderly conduct, public intoxication, bar fights … ya know, the usual.”

Chrissy sighed. “How long has it been since his last arrest?” “I reckon it’s been about a year or so.” Well, at least that was something. During the last year he had either matured and stopped his shenanigans or just hadn’t been caught. She hoped it was the former but expected that it was the latter. Mr. Robertson explained the process, and then they sat and waited for Slade’s case to be called. She noticed Jack walk in, wearing civilian clothes, and sit a few seats back. He didn’t make eye contact with her. When Slade’s case was called, the judge said a few things, then the court-appointed attorney said a few things, and in a few minutes, before Chrissy even thought it had begun, it was all over. “Okay, honey. Did you understand all that?” Mr. Robertson asked her. She shook her head. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Jack was now standing right behind her. “Since this was not his first or even second offense, and because the alleged victim is the mayor’s nephew, bail is thirty thousand dollars. I provide a bond for that amount, and you pay me a ten percent fee—three thousand dollars.” “Wait, what? Isn’t thirty thousand dollars for bail excessive?” asked Chrissy. Chrissy felt Jack’s hand resting on the small of her back. She knew he was supporting her, physically and

emotionally. He bent down and whispered, “The guy deserved to be punched in the face, Chris, but he’s still the mayor’s nephew and this is a small town. Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to get the charges dropped.” She looked up at him, pushing her glasses up her nose, and he smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.” “Come on, honey. This way.” The bondsman led them through a set of doors and down a corridor to a counter where Chrissy would have to write a check and fill out paperwork. “Well, look who’s back in town! The big fancy doctor!” Melinda, a thin woman in her early forties, came around the counter and gave Chrissy a big hug. “Hey, Mels. It’s been a long time. How have you been?” “Not as good as you, honey. Look at you with your swanky clothes and shiny hair. You look good.” “Oh, thanks.” Chrissy blushed. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk, but Melinda had always been very chatty. Actually, now that she thought about it, the entire town was very chatty. “You know, my brother Miles just got divorced. Remember Miles? He’s a doctor too. A chiropractor. You should come over and meet him. How about tomo—” “Hey, Mels,” Jack interjected, “Chrissy hasn’t had such a great morning. Ya think she can take a rain check on the matchmaking? I’m sure she’ll call you soon enough

to discuss it further.” Chrissy had the impulse to reach over and hug him, but she didn’t want to be rude. She remembered Miles, even though he was about ten years older; everyone knew about his reputation for hitting on all things female. He wasn’t a bad guy, just a little too old and a little too creepy for her taste. “Oh, my. Honey, I’m so sorry. Of course. We’ll talk about it later this week. Let’s get all the paperwork filled out so I can get Slade released.” Chrissy nodded and forced out a friendly smile. “You okay?” Jack asked while they waited for Slade. She shrugged. “I’ve had better days.” She rested her elbows on her lap and dropped her face into her hands. Jack sat next to her and caressed her back. “You need help with the money, Chris?” “No, I’ve got it. But thanks,” she answered with her head still hanging. “God, he better not skip town. I’ll kill him. You know he thinks I’m rich because I’m a doctor?” She rolled her head to the side to look at him, her glasses once again sliding down her nose. “I’m not, you know? Rich, I mean. I’ve basically been volunteering since I got licensed. It’s helped bring down my student loans from medical school, but my bank account has suffered along the way. I’ve enjoyed it, though. Going all over the world and helping others—it’s exciting. I wish I could do more to help.” She looked back down. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this, since we didn’t exactly part on good terms last night. Sorry.”

“Because you’ve known me forever. Because your brother and I are close. Because you can trust me. You can tell me anything, you know?” Jack leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead like she was his little sister, although after last night she didn’t want to be thought of as a little sister. Scratch that—she didn’t want Jack to think of her at all. You’re here to bail Slade out of jail and go home. In and out, that’s the plan. But Jack was being so sweet, and God, he was hot. Smoldering hot. Sister? Eek. Gross. “I’m sorry about last night,” she told him. “I didn’t intend to be so mean. I just … it took me off guard. The whole MMA thing, it was just … unexpected.” “You’re forgiven,” he said with a smile. She was overwhelmed by the emotions of the last twenty-four hours, not to mention the dent this little fiasco was going to make in her checking account. “The mayor’s nephew.” She shook her head. “Slade’s an idiot. You see why I hate violence?” She sat up and looked him straight in the eyes, but before Jack could say anything, a man she’d never met before came over to them. “Jack,” the man said by way of a greeting. Jack stood and reached for the man’s hand. “Cain, buddy. How’s it goin’?” “How’d the arraignment go?” “Thirty thousand dollars, dude. His priors and the fact the mayor’s nephew is involved didn’t help.” The man shook his head. “You got the flow covered?”

Chrissy was looking back and forth between the two men. This other guy, who looked intimidatingly serious and stood as tall as Jack, seemed to be a man of very few words. “Yeah, man. It’s covered. His sister’s got it.” Jack looked down at Chrissy. “Cain, this is Chrissy, Slade’s sister. Chrissy, this is Cain, a friend.” Cain’s head tilted up in a sort-of nod. Was that a hello? Intimidated and unsure of what that small interaction had meant, Chrissy awkwardly smiled at him. She was glad to see Slade had another friend ready to help if need be. “You fucked up Jas real good. Heard he won’t be fighting for a while. Talk is that when he got to the hospital, there was so much blood coming out of his nose, they thought he’d need a transfusion.” Cain held out his fist, and in some sort of caveman ritual, Jack pounded his fist against Cain’s. Jack beamed. “Thanks, man, glad to hear it. That guy was huge. Wasn’t sure I’d win.” Cain looked down at Chrissy’s ashen face, then back up to Jack. “See you got this covered. See you ’round.” “Later, man,” Jack said as Cain turned and left. Just as Chrissy was trying to wrap her head around the conversation and how calmly and proudly they had discussed the barbaric sport and the injuries Jack had inflicted on his opponent, the doors opened and Slade came strolling out. Sauntering, really.

“Hey, sis. Thanks for coming to bail me out.” He leaned down and kissed Chrissy affectionately on the cheek. He then turned to Jack and playfully punched him on the arm. “What the fuck, man? You didn’t get me out yesterday!” Slade was taller than Jack, at least six foot four. And, just like Jack, he was bulky. Between his name and his enormous stature, Slade really was made to be a professional fighter. His chest was wide, and his biceps and forearms had muscles that bulged every time he gestured. Whereas Jack barely had any hair on the top of his head, Slade’s slicked-back long black hair curled at the nape of his neck. He could have given Conan the Barbarian a run for his money. He had a thick black tribal tattoo that peeked from the neckline of his T-shirt and another on his right forearm. At least those were the two that she knew about. Like Chrissy, Slade also had piercing blue eyes and long black eyelashes. “Dude, you needed to cool off. I was doing you a favor. What the fuck happened after I left?” Jack looked around as if he’d suddenly realized where they were. “Hold that thought. Let’s go across the street and grab breakfast at EE’s and you can explain there.” Chrissy felt tiny between the two gladiators flanking her. But while most women, or even men, would be intimidated by them, she wasn’t. These were the same guys who when they were fifteen had used Mrs. Daniels’s expensive eyeliner to paint lines under their eyes as

camouflage before they went to toilet-paper the neighbor’s house. Within five minutes they had been caught and brought home to face the wrath of her dad and Mr. Daniels. All that camouflage on their faces, yet they’d worn yellow T-shirts and white shorts: Tweedledee and Tweedledum. She had to take two steps to one of theirs, and at some point before crossing the street toward the diner she just refused to walk that fast in her heels, so she slowed to a normal pace for her five-foot-four-inch frame. She’d just meet them there. After eighteen years of being the third wheel to Dee and Dum, she was used to being ignored. When they reached the intersection, she saw that Slade looked both ways and crossed the street, but Jack looked to his right and to his left and then glanced back. “What are you doing all the way back there?” he hollered to Chrissy. “Walking.” He headed toward her. “Why so slow?” “I’m not slow. You guys take gigantic steps. I couldn’t keep up. Next time I’ll bring roller skates.” “Fuck, Chrissy. I’m sorry.” “For what? It’s no big deal.” “It’s a big deal to me. Come on.” Jack slowed his pace, and when they reached the intersection, he rested his hand on her lower back, guiding her, protecting her. As soon as they reached the small diner, a heavyset older woman with pink chubby cheeks and a friendly

smile greeted them. “Hiya, Jack. Haven’t seen you ’round in days. Heard about the bar fight yesterday. Glad you caught those hooligans. Earl and I were just sayin’ how proud we are of ya, son. I remember when you were just a little boy and—” She stopped midsentence when she noticed Chrissy at his side. “Oh, my word!” She clasped her hands together. “Is that little Chrissy? I haven’t seen you in a long time. Come here, darlin’.” She reached for Chrissy and gave her a tight hug. “Esther! Wow, it’s so nice to see you. You’re still running this place, I see.” “Of course. We’ve been here for thirty-five years and don’t plan on leavin’ anytime soon. Earl would wither away if he didn’t have this ol’ place to come to every day. How long you in town for?” “Just a few days.” “Oh, my son Jeffrey is in town too. Maybe you can come over for dinner. I think you two have so much in common. Remember Jeffrey?” “Oh … um, yes, I remember, Esther. Even though that sounds super nice, I’m only here for a day or two, and then I have to go back home. Maybe next time.” What the hell? Do I have a sign on my forehead that says Husband Needed ASAP? “Then go have a seat, darlin’. I’ll tell Earl you’re here. He’ll be delighted to see you.” “If you’re in the market for a date, a boyfriend, and/or steamy sex, I know someone I could hook you up with,”

Jack whispered in her ear. Chrissy affectionately shoved him. “My goodness, I must be exuding desperation. If one more person tries to hook me up with their son, nephew, or any other relative, I’ll scream.” Jack let out an amused snort. Her mood lifted as they walked to the booth where Slade was already sitting. They slipped into the booth, facing Slade. “What took you guys so long? I’m a starved man. You know what kind of shit they serve in there?” Slade motioned with his thumb in the direction of the jail. Jack was about to answer, but Chrissy put her hand on his thigh and squeezed. He whipped his head to her and saw her eyes telling him to just let it go. She didn’t want to argue with Slade. Slade hadn’t cared that she couldn’t keep up with him. He couldn’t have cared less whether she wired him the bail money or came in person. Sure, they’d talked on the phone over the last eleven years; it was small talk and it was brief, but they had stayed in contact. The last time she’d seen him, though, was about ten years ago at their father’s funeral. The last thing he’d said to her there—the reason she’d decided not to return to town—was forever ingrained in her head: “This is all your fault, Chrissy. You should’ve called me the first time that guy touched you. The minute you got to town you should’ve called me and told me what was going on. You knew Dad was

going to get into that car and set things right. You knew he had a temper and would want to protect his perfect little girl. You knew it! You were selfish to come back to town when the shit finally hit the fan instead of letting us know before it got as bad as it did. And now I’ve lost my dad. I have no one left.” He had been drinking that night and the words came out slurred, but the truth of them had shone in his misty eyes. Jack had been consoling his parents at the other side of the funeral home and hadn’t heard the argument, but she was fairly certain he too had been drinking, because his eyes had been unfocused and when he’d greeted her earlier his hug had been a little too tight and unsteady. Bottom line: Slade always took Chrissy for granted. He thought because she was a doctor she could afford to bail him out. He resented her for their father’s death. And because the guilt ate her up, she didn’t bother standing up for herself. She felt she owed him, because had it not been for her, their father would still be alive today. So the pace of his step was not worth an argument. Slade was concentrating on the menu and didn’t notice the exchange. Jack reached under the table and put his hand on Chrissy’s, the one that was squeezing his leg. The waitress came by, took their order, and brought water and coffee. And still Jack and Chrissy’s hands stayed together under the table. In and out of town, Chrissy. Hand-holding is not a part

of the plan, she reminded herself. Jack had flipped her hand over and was drawing small circles in her palm and tracing the bluish-green gathering of veins on her wrist. Oh, God, what am I getting myself into? Jack looked at Slade. “Start talking, brother.” Slade picked up his cup of coffee, and Chrissy noticed a small tremor in his hand. Her eyebrows furrowed, and Slade must’ve picked up on it because he quickly set the cup back down, put his hands on his lap under the table, and began to talk. As Slade began to tell his story, Chrissy instinctively reached into her messy purse and dug around for the antibacterial towelettes she kept in there. Her purse had almost anything she’d ever need for almost any occasion. Her head was practically inside her oversized bag when Jack placed his hand on her forearm to get her attention. “Chrissy? What’s with the scavenger hunt?” Her head snapped up, and she looked at both men. “Sorry. Don’t mind me. Continue your story.” “Continue?” Slade said. “I can’t even begin with that huge-ass bag taking over half the table and all the noise you’re—” “Aha! Found it.” She placed her bag by her side, put a little tube on the table, and ripped open the paper packaging. Then she leaned over the table. Slade pulled back. “What the fuck, Chris? Is that a condom?” “You are such a moron!” She let out a breath. “It’s an

antibacterial towelette and some antibacterial cream. Stop being such a baby and let me see that scrape on your neck. I bet they didn’t even clean it before you went to jail. It’s probably infected.” “No, Chrissy, there’s not a nurse giving out sponge baths in jail. Stop being such a mom. Leave my cut alone and listen to my story.” Chrissy ignored him and leaned almost completely across the table. Her ass was practically in Jack’s face. She wiped the wound clean and then put some cream on it as both men silently watched her work. When she finished she sat back down. Then she looked at the men. “What?” “You’re my little sister, but you’re acting like the older sibling.” “I’m a doctor. That’s why I did it.” That’s a lie. “And anyway, if the older sibling is a huge idiot who’s fighting and getting arrested, how’s he going to tend to his little sister?” Jack took Chrissy’s hand, which was under the the table, and placed it on his lap again. Slade seemed to ponder her words for a few moments before he cleared his throat and began to speak. “Okay, so after you left the fight, Jack, I was getting my stuff together and was about to head out to my car. That pretty chick Jessica—you know, the classy brunette I’ve been trying to hook up with for months who tends bar at the Pier—started talking to me. She told me she finally broke up with Dennis. So I asked her out. Again. For the

hundredth time. This time she agreed. I was walking her to her car, just talking, when all of a sudden I get pushed from the back. It was a pussy move. When I turned around, that asshole Dennis took a swing at me. I ducked and threw two good body shots, and apparently broke his rib. Then the son of a bitch lunged at Jessica. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Stand by and let a man hit a woman?” Slade glanced at Chrissy, whose body seemed to constrict; under his fingers, Jack could feel her pulse accelerate. But when Slade turned back to Jack and continued to explain, Chrissy instantly relaxed again. Jack looked at Chrissy and then at Slade; had he imagined that there been some sort of quiet exchange between them? “So I punched him and broke his nose. Dude, the guy’s a jerk-off, mayor’s nephew or not.” Slade took a sip of coffee before he spoke again. “Would do it again. He was going to hit her. I don’t regret it.” When the food arrived, Chrissy pulled her hand out of Jack’s lap, and before Jack began eating he gently squeezed her thigh. They ate, mostly in silence. “Well, I’ll do my best to get the charges dropped, but I can’t promise anything, brother. It’s the mayor. He has a lot of pull at the precinct. Small town and all.” “Thanks, Jack,” said Chrissy. “And Slade, don’t do anything stupid while you’re out and everything should be fine. Don’t jump bail or anything.” “Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving town. I have a fight

tonight. I have to stick around,” Slade said. Chrissy choked on the coffee she was sipping, causing her eyes to water. Slade quickly stood and went around the booth. He began patting her on the back, while Jack handed her some napkins. She dried her eyes and waited a moment for the coughing to subside, then used the napkin to clean up the small amount of coffee that had spilled. “You okay, sis?” Slade asked. When she could speak again she asked, “Slade, what did you say?” “I have a fight. Tonight.” “Bro, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jack put in. “You’re supposed to be on your best behavior.” “Don’t worry about me. I have it all under control.” “Slade, you cannot fight tonight. Are you out of your fucking mind?” Chrissy’s palms were on the table and she was leaning toward him. “Calm down. It’s not a big deal. I do it all the—” Slade’s cell phone began to ring. He immediately answered and said a few things into the phone as Jack and Chrissy looked at him. He hung up and stood. “Thanks for everything, guys. Gotta go to the gym. That was my trainer. They’re waiting for me. Jack, can you give me a ride?” Chrissy’s steel-blue eyes were begging Jack not to take Slade anywhere. Jack hesitated for a moment, then took out his wallet, threw a few twenties on the table, and

stood up. “See you later,” he said to a stunned Chrissy. Instead of helping her convince Slade not to fight, he was taking Slade to train. Her eyes watered again, but this time it wasn’t from choking but from anger. She didn’t know whom she was angrier at: Slade for getting arrested and for fighting tonight, Jack for taking him to train, or herself for caring. Just before walking out, Jack glanced back at Chrissy, whose blue eyes were fixed on him incredulously. He cocked his head to the side trying to convey an apology. Chrissy shook her head in disbelief and looked away. She sat alone at the diner for another half hour before heading back home. Back at the house, Chrissy shut herself in her room and booted up her laptop. She still had not formally accepted the job offer at Miami West, and the HR department at the hospital had been emailing her for an answer. She heard the door open and close downstairs. She stayed in her room, too angry to speak with Slade; besides, she knew there was nothing she could do to convince him not to go tonight. Actually, what she really wanted was for him to stop fighting altogether. After an hour of surfing the Web and listening to the array of noises coming from downstairs—the microwave beeping, the door of the bathroom opening and closing —she heard the front door close and a car take off. Not able to stand it any longer, she hopped out of bed. She’d arranged for his bail, so she owned him! She’d make sure

he was a good little boy tonight, fighting his little fight and then coming straight home. After quickly getting ready, she slammed the front door shut and stormed to her car. She turned it on and then realized she didn’t know where the hell she was going. She couldn’t very well call Slade and ask because he would never tell her. That left only one person. She looked over and saw his car parked in front of his house. She was going to have to swallow her pride and talk to Jack.

Chapter 4 Knock. Knock. Knock. Bark. Bark. Bark. Silky black hair fell on his chest as Chrissy slid onto him. Her piercing blue eyes begged him for more pleasure. She didn’t talk, she didn’t argue, she just enjoyed and accepted what he had to give her. It felt like a triumphant fuck-you because he’d managed to shut her up with pleasure. He put his hands on her hips and lifted her up and then thrust her down while he simultaneously pushed his pelvis deeper into her, again and again until her eyes rolled back in agonized pleasure. She moaned his name as she … Knock. Knock. Knock. Bark. Bark. Bark. “For the love of God! Can’t a guy dream in peace around here?” He hopped out of bed, adjusted himself, and painfully walked downstairs to where Drogo was jumping up and down facing the door, barking. “There better be a damn good reason you’re waking me up, Martin.” He flung the door open. “There is. I need to know where Slade’s fighting.” “Oh. Sorry. Wrong Martin.” His fantasy didn’t do

justice to how gorgeous she really was. I hope she doesn’t look down. He tried to adjust his shorts again, stealthily this time. She reached down to pet Drogo, but he growled, so she pulled back with a small pout. Sexiest damn pout he’d ever seen. “Pardon?” “I thought it was Slade knocking. He’s usually the only one that knocks relentlessly like that. I guess it runs in your DNA.” He let out a sigh and stepped aside. “Come on in.” “No. No time. I need the address of where Slade’s fighting.” He could tell she was trying not to be affected by him, but her gaze trailed down his bare chest and then quickly found his eyes again. “Address. Now. Please.” “What for?” “So I can go.” “Why?” “I want to make sure he’s safe and comes straight home.” “He’s not twelve years old, Chris. You can’t control him.” “Are you going to help me or not? This is a small enough town. I’m sure if I ask around someone will give me the address of the fight.” “Is there any way, any way at all, I can convince you not to go?” She shook her head. “Fuck, Chris. Give me a minute. Let me get dressed. Come in for a sec.”

“Why? I don’t need you to go. I only need the address.” She reached down again, and Drogo growled once more. As if she owned the house, Chrissy walked over to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and took out peanut butter and grape jelly. Jack looked at her, completely bewildered. Did she even know what she was doing? Was she hungry? She slathered a slice of bread with peanut butter and jelly and cut it into small pieces. She placed a small square on her palm and bent down. Jack shook his head as if he was trying to get the weirdness out of his brain. “I’m not letting you go by yourself. And what the hell are you doing?” He reached down to pull her up. “Never mind what I’m doing!” She swatted his hand away and stayed crouched down. “Save the big-brother act. I’m not the same little girl you thought you had to protect. I’ve grown up. I can fend for myself.” Drogo hesitantly walked over to her, sniffed her palm, and backed away. Chrissy placed the small squares on the floor, stood, and wiped her hands on a nearby washcloth. “Please, I just need the address.” Jack sighed. Didn’t she understand that the dog would never like her? He didn’t like anyone, including Jack, who fed and housed him! “Oh, trust me, I know you’re not the same little girl you used to be.” His heated gaze swept her body. “That’s exactly why I have to go with you. You’re not going alone to a testosterone-fueled cage fight. So be a doll and

sit your pretty little ass on this chair for five minutes so I can get dressed.” Five minutes later, Jack was tying the laces of his sneakers. He was wearing black sweatpants that fell low on his hips and a white tank top. Chrissy sat on the wood floor, her legs crossed, feeding Drogo small PB&J squares with her right hand while cautiously petting him with her left hand. The dog still appeared tentative about being touched, but it seemed that if petting came as a package deal with the food, Drogo had conceded to it. Jack rolled his eyes at the sight of Chrissy on the floor of his house, so sweet and docile—a very big change from the feistiness of just a few minutes ago. “Come on, beautiful girl. Let’s go keep your six-foot-four, threehundred-pound professional cage fighter of a brother safe and sound.” She tried to give Drogo one last pat before she stood up, but the pup took a step back. “Damn, I thought I’d won him over,” she mumbled. “Stop making fun, Jack. Come on, let’s go.” She pulled him by the arm as if she were twice his size. It was adorable. Ridiculous, but adorable. “Wait. Before we go anywhere, you need to go change your shoes. You can’t go in heels to where we’re going.” “These aren’t heels. They’re wedges.” “I don’t know what you just said, but you can’t go in those shoes. Go get something more appropriate.” “Fine, bossy man. I’ll be right back.” She ran across

the lawn and was back in a minute. “Better?” He looked down to see her tight jeans tucked into cowboy boots. He ran a hand down the back of his skull and squeezed the back of his neck, trying to keep his head from exploding. He mumbled, “Evil, evil woman.” “What?” Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked down at her feet. “They’re boots. They’re not open-toed.” “Chris, seriously? You’re going to get me killed. Let’s go before I hurl you over my shoulder and carry you straight into my bed, where the only thing you’ll be thinking about is a different kind of contact sport.” “You wish, buddy. I’m still so pissed off at you for taking him to train today that if I didn’t need the address, I would have never spoken to you again. If you really cared about him, you’d understand how stupid this is. He was just arrested for fighting. This has to be some sort of violation of bail or something. As a cop, not to mention his friend, you should be on my side. I don’t know why you just can’t give me the address and let me go on my own.” She took a step toward him and poked his chest. “And stop calling me Chris!” “He was gonna go whether I drove him or not, Chrissy.” He slowly and loudly drawled out her name, as if making a point. “The entire way there I tried to convince him not to fight. I thought he’d listen to me if it was just him and me shooting the breeze. He doesn’t do well with confrontations.”

“Look, I don’t have time for this. If you’re coming with me, we have to go. Hurry up.” She started to cross the lawn toward her car, but he reached for her forearm and swung her back and around to the garage. “We’ll take my car. Come on.” He pointed to the massive Jeep parked in his two-car garage. For once, she didn’t argue; she just shook her head, amused. “Big car.” “Big guy,” he replied, pointing at himself and giving her a big, dimpled, mischievous smile. They drove in silence. When they arrived, Chrissy looked around, taking in her surroundings. They were in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The warehouse was dilapidated, damp, and very crowded. Jack’s senses were on high alert, telling him that it was a bad idea for her to be there. But if he hadn’t gone with her, she would’ve gone alone, and that was not something he would have permitted. “Just because you’re here doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you or at this entire situation,” she said, waving her arm to indicate the warehouse. From the way she held her head up high and stood in perfect posture, Jack could tell she was trying to be brave. But fear was written all over her face and her eyes were wide open, like a blueeyed Bambi. To top it off, she was dressed completely inappropriately. She had her hair in a long ponytail and was wearing jeans that were practically painted on, a

black tank top, and cowboy boots that should have looked unfeminine but might actually have been the most sexually arousing pair of shoes he’d ever seen, even more so than her broken red high heels. Okay, probably because they were on Chrissy. He knew this was not a place that women frequented, and the men would most certainly notice her. The proper outfit would have been … well, he couldn’t think of one, because she shouldn’t have been there. The closer they got to the center of the warehouse, the thicker the crowd got. “Where’s the ring or the cage?” she asked. “These underground fights don’t work like that. The crowd is the ring. Slade will fight in the middle.” He pointed to a large group of people. “You see those rowdy people over there? They will form a circle, and that circle will act as the ring. Do not go anywhere near that area. You hear me?” “Don’t worry. I won’t.” She continued looking around. “So this isn’t a professional fight, is it?” “No. Definitely not.” He noticed that she had slowly inched her way closer to him. Admittedly, he’d never felt ashamed of what he did, but bringing Chrissy into this seedy environment disturbed him. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer, tucking her under his left arm. She looked up at him, and in her face he saw absolutely no trace of humor or even the lust that had glazed her eyes the last few

times they’d been together. All he saw was concern, and it tore at his heart. “Just trying to keep you safe,” he told her. He looked around, trying to do a quick surveillance of the premise. He wanted to acquaint himself with all the exits, find where the rowdiest groups were standing, and see if anyone looked suspicious—just a habit he’d picked up from spending all these years as a cop. She leaned into him on the tips of her toes and said into his ear, “I thought you said this was safe.” It was so loud, it was hard to hear her. He bent down. “That’s not what I said. I said that I know what I’m doing when I get in the cage and fight. I can’t vouch for these assholes that stand around betting and drinking.” “This doesn’t look legal. I remember seeing something similar to this in a small town in Brazil a few years back. People got seriously injured that night. You’re a cop— how can you be okay with this?” He clenched his jaw and whispered, “You’re right, Chrissy, this isn’t legal and this isn’t the kind of place I fight in. My fights are sanctioned. This underground shit is something entirely different. But I’m going to pretend I’m not seeing this, as I’m off-duty. You understand?” She nodded, grasping what he was saying—or, more important, what he wasn’t saying: that he was risking his career by being there. “Do you know why I’m doing this, Chrissy?” “Slade’s like a brother to you. I understand. Thank you

so—” “No, Chrissy,” he snapped at her, and palmed her cheeks a little more roughly than he had intended. “I’m not risking my career or your safety for your brother. He can take care of himself. You know why I’m doing this.” Her big doe eyes looked into his, and she gulped. “For me?” “Yes. I’m doing this for you, Chrissy.” “I didn’t ask you to come.” He shook his head. “God, you’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met. You’re this headstrong woman with me and a complete pushover with your brother. You come back to town after eleven years the minute he calls you to bail him out of jail. Jesus, you don’t even tell him to slow down ’cause he’s walking too fast and you can’t keep up. Do I just bring it out in you, a need to constantly fight me? I don’t understand you. You never used to be that way. When I would take you home after you sneaked into a party, you’d complain, but you just followed me to my car and pouted all the way back home.” “I don’t mean to argue with you, Jack. And I wish I weren’t such a pushover when it comes to Slade, but I have my reasons.” “Which are?” Chrissy looked around and said, “Not the time or place.” Jack nodded. “Come on, the fight is about to start. Do

not leave my side for one second. Can you do this one single thing for me, please?” “Yes. I promise.” “Good. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and walked toward a wall at the far end of the outer ring of the crowd, close to one of the exits. It was darker than the rest of the warehouse but less crowded. “God, what the hell was Slade thinking being here? Does he need money that badly?” Chrissy asked. Jack just shrugged. He was wondering the same thing. The bell sounded, and an announcer yelled, “Next up, Slade the Slayer versus Killer Kilpatrick.” Chrissy gasped and covered her mouth. “Oh my God. Killer?” “It’s just a name. Calm down. Take a deep breath. He’s fought much bigger men. Your brother’s good.” Without much fanfare, Slade made his way into the center of the unruly crowd. He obviously hadn’t noticed Chrissy or Jack. He jumped up and down, loosening his muscles in preparation for the fight. He had on black gym shorts and sneakers. Killer, on the other hand, came out to loud, boisterous background music. He was wearing flashy lime-green shorts and apparently had a big fan base, judging by the cheers from the crowd. Without noticing she was even doing it, she was clutching Jack’s forearm with one hand and covering her eyes with the other. “Come here.” He turned her around, pulled her into his chest, and cupped the back of her

head while stroking her hair. “Don’t watch. I know you’ve seen all sorts of things as a doctor overseas, but it’s different when it’s your brother.” She nodded into his chest. Chrissy fisted Jack’s shirt as the yells and screams from the audience escalated, and he drew her in even closer. “Fuck!” Jack yelled. She pushed away from Jack and turned around. “What? What happened?” Chrissy tried getting on the tips of her toes to peer over the crowd but couldn’t see a thing. She tugged on the hem of Jack’s shirt. “What? Tell me. Is he hurt?” He gently peeled her fingers from his shirt. “Nothing. He took a big blow to the face but he seems fine. I told you not to watch.” But just as the words finished coming from his lips, Killer lifted Slade over his body and slammed him into the ground. Jack’s eyes widened, but he tried not to flinch in order to keep Chrissy calm. Half a second later, Jack started breathing again when he saw Slade stand up. Thankfully, Chrissy was too short to see the bloodbath that was taking place in the center of the circle. He was glad that Chrissy had never seen them fight before, at least not since he and Slade had turned pro. When they had just been amateurs, they were the ones who left the ring battered, bruised, and losers. Now they took some blows but gave a lot more in return. “Well, then don’t scream ‘fuck’ if you don’t want me to turn around!” She punched him on his biceps and then

went back to burrowing into his chest, oblivious to the ass whupping that had just taken place. The hand that had been cradling her head had somehow made its way underneath the hem of her shirt and was splayed against her lower back holding her close to his body. The rapid beating of her heart pounded against him. The noise of all the people yelling, combined with the muskiness of the warehouse and the fact that her brother was currently getting pummeled, was obviously making her anxious. He felt the exact moment when her resolve wavered, because she became jelly in his arms. He leaned back against the wall and spread his legs so that he could completely support her weight against him. “Hey, stay with me okay?” She nodded into his chest. “This is the last round. He’s doing great.” She looked up at him. “I can’t see my brother get beat up … I just can’t. I feel like such a wuss. If he survives this fight, I’m going to kill him.” “Take a number.” A second before the final bell of the final round, Slade threw a jab to Killer’s nose, and when his opponent bent down in agony, Slade finished him off with a flying knee to the face. Blood spurted everywhere. Killer looked like a rag doll on the floor. Everyone screamed. “He won, babe. It’s over.” She was about to turn around, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to meet his gaze. “Listen to

me. I want to warn you. He looks bad.” He looked across the room and then back down into her eyes again. “Real bad. Don’t freak out. Okay?” Slowly she turned around. “I’m a doctor, I’ve seen it all. I don’t frea— Holy shit!” Somehow she wriggled her way out of his grip and ran toward the crowd to help Slade. “Son of a bitch! This woman doesn’t listen to anything!” he groaned. “Chrissy! Wait up!” he yelled, but she paid no heed. The crowd was all worked up. Some were angry because of the loss, others cheerful because of the win, but every single one of them was drunk and full of adrenaline. Jack couldn’t imagine a worse scenario for a girl like Chrissy on her own. In the blink of an eye, the crowd consumed her and she was nowhere to be seen. His heart pumped and his mind began to race. As a cop, he faced danger every day, but there he was equipped to handle the situation. At the moment, however, he was a lost man. He couldn’t think straight. His sole thought was to find her. Jack pushed his way toward the center, where Slade towered over the mob of people. When he was a few feet away from Slade, he looked around but didn’t see Chrissy. If he went up to Slade and explained that he’d lost his little sister, Slade would kill him—something that Jack would find completely justifiable. He backed away so that Slade wouldn’t see him, and continued to look.

There was an old scaffold in the far corner. Thank God for his daily workout routine, because it wouldn’t have been an easy task to climb up had he not been in peak physical condition. He placed both palms on the edge and did a pull-up. Once he got his legs over, he was able to stand up and look down at the mass of people. It was dark, but the crowd had started to disperse, making it easier to search. When he didn’t see her, he thought he’d lose his mind. His heart began to race. Then from the corner of his eye he saw some commotion—and recognized those damn cowboy boots. He couldn’t see her face because of the men standing in front of her, but who else would be wearing cowboy boots and causing trouble? It looked like her back was pinned against the wall and a big man had his arms bracketed on either side of her, caging her in. Another man also hovered close by, obviously interested in the situation but not coming to Chrissy’s aid. Without hesitation, Jack jumped down and ran toward them. He heard her before he saw her. “Do. Not. Touch. Me!” she yelled. Jack grabbed Asshole #1, the one who had her pinned against the wall, by the back of the neck and slammed him to the floor. When Asshole #1 tried to get back up, Jack punched him in the face. “Hey, fucker, there’s enough pussy here to share,” yelled Asshole #2 to Jack as he grabbed Chrissy’s wrist and pulled her toward him. Jack immediately elbowed

Asshole #2 in the nose, causing him to release Chrissy’s arm. Just then Chrissy pulled her knee up and slammed it right into Asshole #2’s groin as hard as she possibly could. “Bitch!” was all Asshole #2 was able to mumble as he cupped himself and dropped to his knees. “Good girl!” Jack said proudly to Chrissy as he reached for her, but Asshole #1 had somehow managed to get up and sucker-punched Jack square in the face. Chrissy screamed. Half a second later, Asshole #1 lay on the floor attempting to protect his face as Slade, who’d come from nowhere, beat into him. Left. Right. Left. Right. “Stop it!” Chrissy screamed. “Stop it!” She hammered Slade on the back until he finally stepped away from the guy he was pummeling. Then she turned her attention to Jack. “Oh my God! Are you okay?” He nodded. She reached for him to help him up, which was silly given that he was at least a hundred pounds heavier, but he took her hand anyway. “Come on, Slade. Let’s get out of here, fast. Cops will be here any moment,” Jack said. The irony of that was not wasted on them. With Chrissy’s hand firmly held in Jack’s, the three of them ran toward Jack’s car. “I’ll drive,” Chrissy said, snatching the keys from Jack. He was going to argue, but his nose was gushing and his eye was beginning to swell. He was in no condition to drive, and being a

doctor, she knew that. Even through the pain and the blurry vision, it amused him to see Chrissy hop into the driver’s seat of his big Jeep and struggle slightly to move the seat forward. Once they were a few miles out and all three had somewhat composed themselves, Slade asked, “Dude, why’d you bring her?” “Really, Slade? Really? This is how we’re going to start this conversation? What the hell were you thinking, fighting in there?” Chrissy answered, even though the question was intended for Jack. “Seriously, Slade, what were you doing there?” Jack added. “I needed the money. I just made twenty-five grand.” “What could you need money so badly for that you would risk your life?” Chrissy asked. “You are so dramatic, sis. You’ve always been such a Goody Two-shoes. What’s the worst thing that could’ve happened? I could break something or need a couple of stitches. It’s still worth the money I made in ten minutes. And you,” he yelled, turning to the backseat, where Jack was sitting. “Again, why did you bring her?” “Brother, since when does she listen to anything I say? She was coming no matter what. I came so she wouldn’t be alone.” “First, I am not a Goody Two-shoes. Every time I ever tried to do anything, one of you two cretins would stop me. Second, don’t yell at Jack. He was protecting me.

He risked his career coming here!” Jack’s heart swelled at hearing her defend him to her brother. “Great job at protecting her, dude. She was practically molested by those— Ow! What the fuck?” he said as Chrissy swung her right arm across the center console into the backseat and backhanded him across the chest, hard. “That wasn’t his fault. Had you not been there in the first place, none of this would have happened. It’s your fault, Slade.” “Do you realize that if you’d been caught, you would have been arrested? She’s already put out three thousand dollars for your bail—did you expect her to do that again?” “She would’ve survived. She’s loaded. She’s a doctor.” “No, I’m not loaded!” Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Not even a little bit. Have you seen my car? Do you even know what I do for a living? No, you know what—don’t even bother answering that. We’re here.” She hit the brakes hard as she pulled into Jack’s driveway. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I guess I’ll perform a few more stupidectomies and then head on home tonight.” Jack could see Chrissy’s eyes tearing up, and his heart broke for her. “Stupidect-what?” Slade asked. “Stupidectomies. The irritating procedures by which I bandage up stupid people for doing stupid things. Oh, never mind. Just get out of the car.”

She jumped out of the car and slammed the door. Unsure of what to do, Jack headed across the lawn back to his house. “You,” she called, pointing at Jack. “Follow me.” Obediently he followed her into the house she’d grown up in. “Both of you sit down here.” She pointed to the couch, then went up the stairs. “You’re a dick,” Jack whispered to Slade. “I feel like we’re in detention or something. She’s being overly dramatic. What a drama queen.” “A drama queen who saved your ass. Again!” Chrissy came back downstairs lugging her backpack and set it on the floor. “Both of you, shirts off.” She was in a don’t-mess-with-me mood, and neither of them let out a peep. They just obeyed orders. She looked over the rims of her glasses, back and forth between the bare chests. “You first, since there’s more blood.” She pointed to Slade, used her finger to slide the glasses back up her nose, and immediately got to work cleaning and bandaging. It was clear she wasn’t being gentle, because Slade winced and let out a number of expletives. When she finished, she turned to Jack. She looked up at him. But her gaze was different than when she had looked at him before. It was gentler. He noticed a scratch above her right eye by her hairline. He reached up to touch it, but she flinched and moved back. “You’re cut,” said Jack. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Your hip wound

reopened, again. Let me just change the dressing and bandage it up and then I’ll take a look at your nose and your eye.” When she finished with his hip injury, she began to inspect his face. She kneeled between his thighs, and her big blue eyes with those long black eyelashes looked into his eyes. He hated to see the sadness in them. She cleaned his nose and stuffed it with cotton. She got up, went to the kitchen, and returned with small plastic bags of ice and a package of frozen peas. She tossed two small bags of ice at Slade and told him to put the ice on his eye while she finished mending Jack. Then she gently placed the bag of frozen peas on Jack’s swollen eye. “Hold it here.” Quietly he followed her instructions. “Okay, all done.” She started packing up her things, then went upstairs again and came back a few minutes later with a small suitcase. First she pointed to Jack. “Keep putting ice on that eye, and keep your head forward until your nose stops bleeding. Remember to change the dressing on your gash tomorrow.” Then she pointed to Slade. “You may have a broken rib. But really, who cares—you made twenty-five grand. I’d like to ask you to try to not get arrested again, but, since that seems to be inevitable, I guess I’ll see you at your next arraignment. Though it seems like you should have enough money now to bail yourself out for a while. Bye, Slade. See you around, Jack. Sorry for all the trouble we’ve caused you in the last forty-eight hours.”

“Come on, Chris. Don’t leave. I’m sorry I was an ass. I guess … well, I seem to be an ass all the time, but I’ll do better. I promise,” Slade begged, his head back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling, the bags of ice held to his face. Chrissy let out a large puff of breath but otherwise didn’t reply before shutting the door behind her. Jack thought he must have been hit harder than he’d realized, because he was not processing what had just happened. “Dude? Did your sister just leave?” “Looks that way.” “You’re not going to stop her?” “I tried. She never listens to me. She hates me, dude. I feel terrible that I asked her to post the money. How the hell was I to know she wasn’t making bank as a doctor? I guess I should’ve used my money for bail.” “You guess? You’re a fucking dickhead.” Jack pushed himself off the couch, slapped the back of Slade’s head, and ran toward the front door, but she was already gone. Rather than take his Jeep, he fumbled for the keys of his police cruiser, then drove off in it in search of Chrissy, his head throbbing. He scrolled for her phone number on his cell. He’d had it for years but never used it. He’d only known about her through Slade, and the details had been minimal, since Slade wasn’t a master conversationalist. Once he found her name, he called, but it went straight to voicemail—though when he heard her voice on the voicemail greeting he was relieved she

hadn’t changed her number in the intervening years. After an hour of driving, he admitted defeat and headed back home. But on his way back he caught sight of her car on the side of the road, not two miles away from his house. He released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Parking behind her, he walked toward the car and saw the spare tire that had been mounted to replace the flat tire had gone flat as well. When he got to her door, he gently knocked on her window as to not startle her. As she ever so slowly turned toward the window, he immediately saw her puffy red eyes and the thick red indentation that marred her forehead from resting on the steering wheel. She reached for the window and rolled it down. She looked utterly defeated, and having known her his entire life, this was something he was completely unaccustomed to. Slade had always been Jack’s lifelong friend, a brother, really, but at the moment he wanted to break Slade’s kneecaps for having put this look into her eyes. Leaning his forearms against the open window, he couldn’t help but reach over and stroke the red indentation on her forehead. “What are you doing out here?” “Waiting on AAA again.” She sighed. “I wonder if they have frequent-user rates.” “You need a new car.” “Duh!” He wanted to smile at her quick response, but she

looked so damn sad. He opened her door and extended his hand to help her out. “Come on.” “I can’t. I have to wait for—” “Just leave it. We’ll deal with it tomorrow. It’s been a long day. Let’s go home.” “I’m not going back home—well, Slade’s home. I need to get my car fixed and get the hell outta this town. I shouldn’t have come back.” “You probably shouldn’t have come back to help him. But I’m glad you did because I got to see you again. Anyway, you’re not driving anywhere tonight. Call AAA, tell them not to bother, and come home with me.” “No way. Nothing’s changed. You’re a violent cage fighter who sleeps with women and never calls them again. I can’t get involved with you. I am not going to go home with you, and I’m certainly not sleeping with you. Last night was a mistake.” “You couldn’t be more wrong about my history with women. Either way, I didn’t say anything about sleeping with you.” “Oh. Um … I just assumed. Sorry. I …” Her smooth white cheeks crimsoned immediately. “Don’t get me wrong, we are going to sleep together. That’s a given. Just not tonight. You’ve had a rough few days. Not to mention that my face hurts. Come on—I have a spare room.” “Jack Daniels! I can’t believe you just said that. You’re

outta your mind if you think I’m stepping out of this car and going anywhere with you, especially after what you just said. Pfft!” Chrissy huffed. “You’re going to sit there and pretend there’s nothing between us? You know very well it’s just a matter of time. But fine, have it your way. You’re gonna hang out here in the dark in a car with a flat tire for God only knows how long? You’re exhausted and helpless, not to mention that any weirdo can come by and attack you and no one will ever know. Oh, and the alligators. There’s probably hundreds of alligators mere feet from you right this very moment. Have it your—” “No, wait! Alligators?” “Seriously, woman? That’s all you got from my little speech? How about the part about the weirdo attacking you?” “I don’t like reptiles!” She stepped out of the car quickly and walked toward his car. “Please note that I am only going with you under duress, and you better not try any funny business. As a police officer, it is your civic duty to assist me. Got that, Daniels?” Jack shook his head and snorted. “You’re leaving under duress, with protest. Some shit about civic duty and no funny business. Got it. Come on, crazy girl.” He opened his car door, and when she sat down, he leaned his enormous body through the door and buckled her seatbelt for her. His face was inches from hers. On his way out, he slightly nuzzled her neck and inhaled.

“Are you smelling me?” “Soap and vanilla.” He let out a little groan with closed eyes. “Yum.” “I’m a big girl, you know. I could’ve buckled myself up. And it seems that in fact you didn’t note my previous comment about not being happy about this situation and no funny business.” He gave her a playful smile. “Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve never sat in a police car before. It’s a little scary.” He laughed. “Why’s that?” “I don’t know. I feel like I’ve done something wrong.” “You feel naughty, don’t you?” She didn’t answer immediately, but when she did her face was flushed. “Yeah, kind of,” she admitted uncomfortably. “Interesting.” “What does that mean?” “Just an interesting observation. I’ll keep that in my vault.” “You have a vault?” “Oh, baby, I have quite the vault,” he said, pointing to his head. “There’s a whole bunch of very interesting observations I’ve made about you. When we’re finally naked together, I plan to unleash all the knowledge I’ve accumulated.” He looked over at her with a mischievous grin. She let out a little gasp.

They sat in comfortable silence for the few minutes it took them to arrive back at his house. He noticed that she glanced over at her house and shook her head. Jack cut off the engine and turned his body toward her. “He loves you, you know.” “No, Slade only loves Slade. I feel like an idiot. He says jump and I say how high. Since our dad died, I have this sense of obligation to help him. Do you know how many times I’ve had to send him money for one thing or another?” “He’s a grown man, Chrissy. He can take care of himself. You’re enabling him every time you bail him out of some problem. And the strange thing is that in every other situation you are far from being a pushover. I will admit, you used to be easily manipulated, but not anymore. Now I can’t get you to stay put for one damn second, even if it’s for your own safety.” “I know. You’re right. But he’s my only family and I owe it to him. What am I supposed to do? He never told me what he needed the money for. You think he’s in some sort of trouble?” “Truthfully, I’m not sure. He’s always told me everything, and I don’t know what he’s keeping from me. You know, he makes a very good living as an MMA professional. Don’t underestimate the amount of money he makes. I don’t see why he’d need money so desperately that he’d call you to bail him out, but mark my words, I’m going to find out. Tomorrow I’ll talk to

him.” “Thanks, Jack. Not just for talking to him, but for everything. For taking me to the fight, for getting beat up on my account, for rescuing me yet again.” “You’re kind of a pain in the ass. You seem to need rescuing a lot.” He smiled at her. “Normally I’m a rather independent woman. I travel all over the world to the worst environments and manage just fine. I lived in Haiti after the earthquake for a year. Did you know that? We had no running water, there were looters, I was treating the worst injuries I’ve ever seen, and to top it off we had to be careful of mudslides. And I survived just fine. A few days back home and I’m a complete and total mess. A damsel in distress.” “Of course I knew you were in Haiti. We may not have spoken over these last years, but I knew about you through Slade and worried about you. But you two didn’t keep in touch enough. There were times I asked about you and he didn’t seem to know where you were. And by the way, I wouldn’t go as far as calling you a damsel.” She reached over and punched him playfully in the stomach. “Ouch. Injured guy, remember?” He pointed to his hip and pouted. “The hot doctor who treated me told me I couldn’t fight until I’m healed. So the, ah, wrestling match you want has to wait.” “You asked about me?” He didn’t answer. Well, at least not verbally. His face

softened as he looked into her eyes. His dimple came out in all its glory with a brilliant smile that made her heart pitter-patter.

Chapter 5 “Such a crybaby. A big guy like you can’t handle a playful little punch from a girl?” Chrissy said nervously, trying not to think much about Jack’s smile, which was worth a thousand words. She got out of the car and quickly walked to Jack’s front door. “You know, I think I’m coming down with a fever,” he told her. Chrissy looked at him quizzically, not sure if he was being serious. “You can always take my temperature … with your tongue.” He gave Chrissy a big, toothy grin and wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh my God, you are such a pig!” She punched him again, but this time a little harder. She knew him well enough to be aware that he was using humor to deflect the comment he’d made, which had made her nervous. His boyish grin combined with those delicious dimples made her smile. Just being in Jack’s presence made her feel so much better. He opened the front door and stepped aside, as he always did, to let her in first. The sound of tiny claws running on the hardwood upstairs could be heard from the door. “Come on in, Mike Tyson,” he said to her. “By the

way, I was very impressed with the way you took out that guy earlier tonight,” he said as he grabbed her hand and led her upstairs, where Drogo ran to greet them. Maybe “greet” was an overstatement—it was more like growl at them. “Thanks. I took self-defense classes years ago, though I’d rather hoped I’d never have to use them.” Chrissy bent down and held out her hand. Drogo took a sniff and backed away, all his little teeth exposed. Chrissy smiled and blew a kiss at him before standing up. “Well, you did good. The jerk’s probably still trying to pull his balls out from his throat.” He smiled at her. “Here’s the spare room. The bathroom is right across the hall.” “This was your old room,” she said. “Yeah. You remember?” “Of course I remember. I spent as much time tailing you guys as I did in my own house.” Jack smiled but said nothing. “I know, I know—I was a pest. You guys reminded me of that every single day. Do you mind if I take a shower?” “Go ahead. There are towels in the closet. But first can I take a look at your cut, please?” He reached toward her forehead, but she swatted his hand away, and Drogo barked at Jack. He stared at Drogo incredulously. “I think he just defended you.” “Aww, such a sweet puppy,” she cooed at Drogo,

careful not to touch him, and then looked back up at Jack, who was examining her cut. “Oh, it’s nothing. It doesn’t hurt. Don’t worry about it.” “Doctors make the worst patients.” He pulled her by the hand and gently sat her on the bed. Now it was his turn to kneel between her legs. He swiped the hair away from her forehead to look at the cut. “You were not supposed to leave my side. I specifically said, ‘Beautiful Chrissy, pretty please stay by my side so that I can keep the crazy drunken perverts from trying to maul your pretty little ass.’ And you replied, ‘Yes, sir.’ ” “Oh, really? Me? I said ‘sir’?” She laughed. “I highly doubt that.” “Okay, maybe you didn’t say ‘sir.’ You’re not that docile. I think you said something along the lines of ‘I promise I won’t leave your side, sexy man.’ ” “You’re right. I did promise to stay by your side.” She giggled at his silliness. “Sorry about that. I thought you were right behind me. One of those assholes sort of pushed me against the wall, and I went to fight him off, and he had on some leather bracelet things. I think that’s what cut me. But really, it’s fine.” He cupped her face with his hands and looked into her eyes. Searching. Longing. Aroused beyond comprehension. He let out an agonizingly long breath. He was only inches from her. “Go take your shower, but at least let me put some antibiotic ointment on it when you’re finished.”

“Okay,” she whispered. After a moment of awkwardness—with him still holding her face and their eyes connected—he pushed away from the bed in an attempt to shake off their trance. However, being that he was still on his knees, her standing brought them to an even more intimate position. She quickly shifted nervously. The attraction between them was intense. It was a living and breathing thing that pulsed around them, but she wouldn’t allow it to go anywhere. She’d been down this road before, and it had ended badly. Very badly. The crux of her dilemma remained: once a bad boy, always a bad boy, and bad boys were violent. She had to remember that. If not for her sake, then for the sake of her father and all that had transpired eleven years ago. “Damn. My stuff is on the side of the road, in the trunk of my car.” He pushed himself up. “I have antibiotic ointment. Don’t worry.” “No, it’s not just that. I don’t have clothes with me.” “Oh, well. Being that we decided yesterday that your uniform would be one of my T-shirts, you’re in luck. I have drawers full.” “We,” she said, waving a finger between them, “didn’t decide on anything. It seemed to be a decision made by you alone. But since I have nothing else with me, I guess I will have to borrow one of your shirts again.” “Well, I’m nothing if not flexible. If you don’t want to

wear one of my T-shirts, I’m also okay with you not wearing anything at all. In fact, I think I prefer that option.” “I’ll take the shirt.” She laughed. “I knew we could reach a compromise.” He patted her on the ass playfully before she sauntered off to the bathroom. Drogo stayed by the foot of the bed, chasing his own tail.

How could he resist the beautiful woman who ignited all these newfound feelings in him—desire, protectiveness, possessiveness, a constant flip in his stomach—when she was sleeping only a few feet away from him? This was going to be one hell of a long night. All those years he’d believed that Chrissy was just his best friend’s innocent little sister. Nothing more. Nothing less. He hadn’t been lying when he told her he’d always known where she was. He asked Slade about her often in a platonic, friendly sort of way. He’d known her most of his life; how could he have pretended she didn’t exist? Of course he’d asked about her. How could she not have known that? He wondered if she’d ever asked about him. But now, eleven years later, it was as if he’d never really seen her before. Looking at her for the first time when he had

pulled her over for speeding two days ago, he had been truly blown away. God, she was sexy, and so close. All night Jack had wanted to walk into the room where she was sleeping and just slip into bed with her. Bury himself inside Chrissy. It took all his self-control not to do so. Honestly, though, that wasn’t exactly the case. It wasn’t so much self-control as it was a vicious little pup that had been standing guard in front of her door all damn night. The one time he had succumbed to his desire and made his way to her room, Drogo grunted and nipped at his ankle. Pain-in-the-ass dog! He hadn’t slept at all, and at eight the next morning, while Chrissy was still sleeping and after he had let Drogo out to relieve himself, he found himself in Slade’s kitchen. “Dude, what the hell is going on with you?” asked Jack. “You know better than to fight in those backyard brawls. They’re nothing but bad news.” “I need the money.” Slade was putting ingredients into a blender. “Protein shake.” He pointed at the machine. “Want some?” Jack nodded and reached for a glass. “For what?” “You should know exactly why I need the money. I don’t want to fight forever. I can’t fight forever. I’ve had so many concussions, the docs say that the next big blow may cause some permanent damage. I want to open a gym. With my notoriety, I can get some big clients. I can train the next generation of MMA fighters. But I need some startup capital.”

“Why didn’t you say anything before? There has to be another way of getting money. Why don’t you get a loan or something? Go legit.” “That’ll take months. My next fight is right after your fight on Thursday night. Assuming I win, I’ll have all the money I need.” “You mean you’re not done? There’s another fight? While you’re still out on bail?” “I need this one, brother. It’s big. A hundred thousand dollars, dude.” “How about your sister?” “What about her? You better not rat me out. I don’t need her lectures. I need to train these next few days in peace. While I’m in the cage trying to concentrate, I don’t want to be worrying about her getting felt up by the jerk-offs that come to watch.” “Why are you such a douchebag to her?” “I’m not trying to be. I just never seem to do right by her. When Dad was alive, we were pretty close. I mean, she was always annoying, but in a kid-sister sort of way. She thinks of me as a fuckup who only calls her when I need something. Since Dad died, I’ve always felt as if she hates me, and I have no clue why. I’m going to pay her back the three thousand dollars she spent on my bail bond. I’m sure she can’t wait to get back to Miami. She hates it here. She ran away the first chance she could. By the way, you need to help me get these charges dropped. I don’t want to spend a fortune on an attorney.”

“She doesn’t hate you. She loves you. You guys need to hash this shit out. A heart-to-heart, or whatever it is that chicks call it. You’re being a real asshole by only calling her when you need something from her. You’re only thinking about yourself.” “She tell you that? She tell you I only call her when I need something? Well, it’s bullshit. I call her to say hello too, but she’s always hard to get hold of, since she’s usually oversees. Dude, she left for Haiti for a year and called like two times! What the hell was I supposed to do? We emailed back and forth, but if we’re being real, I probably made more of an effort than she has. She barely calls me, and when I try to call her it’s almost impossible to reach her. I guess I can see where she might think I only contact her when I need something, but it just seems that way because we speak so rarely. If she’d try to stay in touch with me, she’d realize that I’ve made an effort throughout the years.” Jack thought about what his friend was saying, and it made sense. Most of the times Slade hadn’t been able to reach Chrissy since she was in some remote jungle somewhere; therefore the few times they did speak and it just so happened that Slade needed something—well, Jack supposed it hadn’t looked great. He’d known Slade a long time, and truth be told, Slade wasn’t a heartless or selfish bastard who wouldn’t call his sister. In fact, Slade had bragged about his doctor sister and all the accolades she’d gotten, even if he didn’t know where she was.

“Well, then, more reason to hash shit out. And about the charges … dude, you beat up the mayor’s nephew! I’m going to do my best, but I can’t promise anything. This is a small town. The mayor practically owns it. You know that.” Pouring the shake into his glass, Slade said, “Speaking of which, this is mostly your fault. You made me stay in the tank overnight. I wouldn’t have had to call her if you’d bailed me out sooner or pulled some strings.” “You needed to sober up and calm the fuck down. I did you a favor. I never thought you’d call her.” “Whatever, dude. What’s done is done. No hard feelings.” “Wait, are you forgiving me? I didn’t do shit. I wasn’t even there. I wasn’t the one that made you get into a fistfight over some chick. This is all on you, buddy.” Slade sat down with his glass full of the green liquid. He seemed completely unperturbed by what Jack was saying. His I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude was really starting to piss Jack off. “You know what, man? I’m done. I’m not bailing you out again. I suggest you don’t fight. If I catch you fighting in a nonsanctioned underground event, I’m arresting your ass and everyone else involved. I don’t want it on my conscience if you get killed. There are no rules and anything goes in those fights. Look at you. I’ve never seen you as fucked up after a real fight as you were last night.” Slade’s right eye was swollen shut. There was a big gash under his left eye, and his lip was

split. “You hate protein shakes, man,” Jack went on. “I know you’re only drinking this shit because your jaw hurts too much to chew on real food. I don’t think you’re even physically capable of fighting right now. You’re all fucked up. And you’re going to get seriously hurt next time.” Slade didn’t seem concerned and didn’t even bother with a reply, which just angered Jack even more. Before walking out the door, Jack turned around to ask a final question. “Do you even know where Chrissy is? Do you care?” Slade shrugged. “I suppose she’s home and getting ready to fly to the other side of the world for work.” Jack shook his head in disbelief, slamming the door so hard on his way out that he heard something come crashing down on the other side. He crossed the lawn and went back home, unsure whether to let Chrissy know about the upcoming fight. If he told her, surely she’d go, and Slade was right—he’d be more worried about his sister than about the guy inside the cage with him. Also, Jack didn’t want her there. One groping was enough; he didn’t want a repeat of yesterday. On the other hand, if something happened to her brother and he didn’t say anything, she’d never forgive him. The house was silent; she must have still been sleeping. He walked upstairs to find Drogo sitting in

front of her door. “What? Are you the daytime guard too?” The dog barked at him, and Jack shook his head. “You growl at her almost as much as you growl at me. I don’t understand you. Move over, buddy,” Jack said to the dog, who seemed to understand, because he moved aside so that Jack could quietly open the door. Chrissy was sprawled out on the bed diagonally. It amazed him how such a tiny woman could take up so much space. Her hair was spread over a pillow and the sheets were wrapped around her body, half covering her and half displaying her sexy, toned legs. She looked so peaceful. He almost jumped in bed with her, but managed to control the urge. Quietly he closed the door and made his way downstairs to make breakfast. Drogo didn’t follow, apparently deciding to stay on guard duty by the door. Several minutes later, a half-asleep, half-naked Chrissy padded barefoot into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes and yawning, Drogo contentedly walking next to her. “Smells good,” she murmured sleepily. Jack’s eyes, of their own volition, scanned her body from her pink toenails up to her very well-endowed breasts, which bounced with every damn step she took. Her long black hair was on the top of her head in a big messy bun. Her blue eyes were crystal clear as she took in his stare. He didn’t even pretend not to stare. In fact, he might even have drooled a little. She had to know that walking

around like that was bound to get his attention. “I’m making bacon and eggs. There’s coffee and juice. Help yourself. I’m almost done cooking,” said Jack. “I’d never have taken you for a guy who cooks.” She bent down to reach into the refrigerator for the juice, and the hem of the T-shirt she’d borrowed shifted up, giving him a phenomenal view of her pantyless behind. What the fuck was she thinking? He dropped the spatula, causing her to jump. He quickly picked it up and shook his head, trying to get the image out of his mind. “I don’t cook many things, but bacon and eggs I can handle.” “Juice?” she offered. He nodded. She placed two glasses of orange juice on the table and sat down, pulling the tail of his long shirt under her. He fixed them each a plate of food and brought them over to her. Then the most astounding thing happened: Chrissy patted her lap, and Drogo the vicious, ferocious killer Chihuahua jumped onto her lap and peacefully rested his head on her knee while Chrissy caressed behind his ear and along his spine as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Jack even thought he heard the dog sigh. Traitor! “Finally! I knew you’d fall in love with me,” she squealed, and gave a triumphant fist pump in the air. God, she’s adorable. “I can’t believe he’s on your lap. What the hell?” “We sort of reached an understanding,” she said to

Jack. “Didn’t we, little guy?” Drogo sighed again, and Jack rolled his eyes. “Understanding?” “Yeah. I give him food, and in turn he gives me love. Don’t you, cutie?” Chrissy cooed as she continued to pet him. As unbelievable as it might seem, the damn dog nodded happily. “Fucking traitor,” Jack said under his breath, with a hint of a smile. Chrissy took a bite of the food Jack had prepared. “Wow, Jack. This is delicious. I was starving. Thank you.” “With everything that happened, I forgot to offer you something to eat last night. Sorry about that.” She shook her head and waved her fork as she chewed. When she swallowed, she said, “Mmm … don’t worry about it. Wow, so good. I haven’t had bacon in forever. They don’t exactly have bacon in poverty-stricken countries.” She surprised him when she reached over the table and grabbed a piece of bacon from his plate. She then tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and put the thin strip of bacon into her mouth, savoring each and every crumb. He adjusted himself under the table as he took in her nipples pressing against the thin material of the shirt. Had bacon always been so erotic? He cleared his throat and smiled, taking her out of the

bacon orgasm she seemed to be having across the table from him. “So, what’s your plan today?” he asked. He couldn’t help but notice how adorable she looked eating. He was used to women who ate only salads and other healthy stuff. It was refreshing to see a woman who ate heartily. “Well …” She took a sip of the orange juice while feeding Drogo small pieces of bacon. “First I have to deal with my car. Once that’s fixed, I guess, the plan is just to drive home.” His heart fell at the thought of her leaving, and apparently Drogo felt the same way, because he whimpered. Dude, where’s your loyalty? Jack thought. “You’re not going to stay and talk to Slade?” he asked. “What does it matter? Slade made it clear he’s going to do whatever he wants. I might as well go back home and deal with the mess I left behind.” “What mess?” he asked. She waved her hand and shook her head. “It’s nothing, really. Let’s just say I’ve had a shitty few days.” “Well, it’s about to get shittier. I have to tell you something.” “What now?” she groaned, pushing back her plate. She rested her elbows on the table and buried her forehead on her palms, obviously bracing herself for whatever bad news lay ahead. Jack got up from across the table and walked over to her. Startling her, he pulled her chair out from under the

table and turned it sideways. Drogo growled at him. “What the hell? You’re my dog, Drogo,” he scolded the dog. Then he grabbed the chair next to hers, turned it, and sat down so they were facing each other and their knees were brushing. He took her hands in his. “I went next door this morning. I know why he needs money. It’s not a bad thing. It’s not for anything illegal. I hate to admit, I thought it would be, since he was being so secretive,” he said as he lazily caressed the tops of her hands with his thumbs. “He wants to open a training center for boxers and MMA fighters. He realizes that his shelf life in the fighting world is about to expire. He’s had too many concussions.” Her hand involuntarily squeezed his. “Concussions? Plural?” she said. “I know that for a professional fighter, concussions are the norm, but how many are we talking about here? Has he had MRIs? Has he—” He interrupted her. “Listen, Chrissy. He knows he can’t continue fighting. Haven’t you noticed the slight shake in his right hand?” “I saw it the other day at the diner, but I didn’t think much of it. He’d just been released from a night in jail, and … I don’t know, I just let it go.” “It’s just the way it goes,” he told her. “I fight for fun, but I have a job, a career. He doesn’t. Fighting is his life. It’s his career, it’s his fun, it’s his everything. He wants to open a gym and train others. He’s always told me about his dreams, but I wasn’t sure how serious he was.”

Her back straightened, and a smile began curving at the corners of her mouth. “This is good news. He’s maturing. Giving up that barbaric fighting nonsense and opening a gym. A legitimate business. If he has some cognitive degeneration from the concussions, maybe it can be reversed, or at least it shouldn’t progress any further.” She let out a breath. “Whew—I thought you were going to give me bad news.” She squeezed his hands, and her eyes beamed. He didn’t want to be the one to dim the light in her eyes, but he knew he was about to do just that. “Chris, he doesn’t have all the money he needs yet. He’s going to fight again in a few days. I’m afraid that because of the big purse in this fight, it’s not going to be an easy one, and I know he’s not going to back out.” And there it was! All the light in her eyes vanished. Her shoulders drooped. The corners of her lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Chris. I thought you should know.” She sprang to her feet, the dog jumping off her lap to the floor. “No. He can’t! We just have to convince him. This is crazy. There has to be another way. One wrong blow to the head and he’s a vegetable for the rest of his life. Does he understand that?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Of course he doesn’t understand, otherwise he wouldn’t be doing something so insane. He could die, Jack. I have to explain it to him.” She got up, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. “Thanks for telling me. Really, thank you.”

He pulled her back down to the chair, and Drogo immediately jumped back onto her lap. “I don’t think he’ll listen,” Jack told her. “All he sees are dollar signs right now. If I had the money, I’d give it to him. I have a little savings I can—” “No. No! Thank you, Jack, but no. This is ludicrous. He needs to understand that this is reckless.” Chrissy thought for a moment. Drogo seemed annoyed, if that was possible for a dog. Finally she said, “Why can’t he get a loan?” Jack shrugged. “I don’t know.” “There are other options. He doesn’t have to fight. I’m going over there.” She stood up again and started walking toward the front door, the dog right on her heels. “Drogo, stay! Chrissy, wait.” She twisted back around and huffed, “What?” The annoyance in her voice made him chuckle, even though Drogo had of course completely ignored Jack’s command and was standing next to Chrissy. “We’ve already established that you can walk around my house dressed like this anytime. However, I think your brother may have issues with it, especially since he doesn’t know you spent the night here. You are coming out of my house dressed in just my T-shirt and nothing underneath.” She looked down. “Oh. Right. Fine.” She ran up the stairs. Jack tried not to watch her go,

but he couldn’t help his wandering eyes. Damn, she had a nice ass. Two minutes later she was headed back down. She had slipped on her jeans, and he could tell she had not bothered with a bra. “You don’t mind me borrowing your shirt, right?” It was more of a statement than a question. He shook his head, and before he had a chance to say anything, she stormed out. She was a woman on a mission, and apparently Drogo was her sidekick, because he went with her. Jack followed after them. He loved this fiery side of her.

Chapter 6 “Slade, I know you’re here. Open up.” Chrissy pounded on the door, and Drogo barked. “Fuck, Chris. You’re going to wake the entire neighborhood,” her brother said as he opened the door and stepped aside so that she could walk in. Drogo immediately began growling and gnawing at the bottom of Slade’s sweatpants, so Chrissy bent down and scooped him up. “What the hell? Be careful with that thing. That dog hates people,” Slade said as he took a step back and put his hands up in surrender. Then he saw Jack right behind her. “Wait a minute! Where’d you come from, Chris?” “From Jack’s.” Slade looked Chrissy over, top to bottom. “Why the fuck were you at Jack’s? And why are you wearing one of his shirts?” Chrissy looked down at her shirt. Perhaps she should’ve chosen one of Jack’s plain white tees. Instead, the shirt had the logo of Jack’s gym, WtF Academy, emblazoned right on the center. It looked bad. Jack took a cautious step back as Slade glared at him. “ ‘WtF?’ ” Chrissy asked. “Your gym is called ‘What the Fuck’? That’s an awful name.” Jack shook his head. “ ‘Worth the Fight.’ Not ‘What the

Fuck.’ The old man doesn’t know about the modern-day acronym.” “Oh!” Chrissy cocked her head. “Someone should really think about telling him.” Chrissy squared her shoulders and glared at Slade. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.” “What the hell were you doing at Jack’s and why are you wearing his shirt?” Slade repeated, his arms crossed and his legs shoulder width apart. He looked like a bouncer. “Is that really what we’re going to talk about?” She crossed her arms, mimicking his stance. “You bet your ass that’s what we’re going to talk about.” He took a step toward his best friend. “What the hell, Daniels? You had a lot to say earlier today but forgot to mention my sister was sleeping at your house.” Chrissy quickly got between the two men as Drogo continued his relentless yelping. The dog really didn’t like Slade. “Oh my God. Relax. My car broke down, he picked me up from the side of the road, and I stayed in his spare room. Not that it’s any of your business, considering that all I am to you is a bag of money. You don’t give a shit about me.” “That’s not true, Chris. You’re my kid sister.” “I don’t want to talk about that now. He’s not my type, anyway. You know how I feel about violence. And anyway, I’m not Veronica. So I’m sure I’m not his type either. We’re just friends. Listen, I want to talk to you

about this fight.” “Wait, what? Who’s Veronica?” Jack stepped forward, looking confused as hell. “Seriously? We are not having this conversation right now. Let’s focus, boys! I want to talk about the upcoming fight, Slade.” “It took you all of ten minutes to go blabbing about the fight. Thanks a lot, Jack.” Slade hissed at Jack. “No, wait. Time out!” Jack grabbed Drogo from Chrissy’s hand and set him down, then took her wrist and pulled her toward him, forcing her to look at him. “Who is Veronica?” he repeated slowly, but Drogo evidently didn’t like his tone and was furiously barking. “Oh my God! What have you done to my damn dog? I think I liked him better before. Can you please shut him up?” “He probably doesn’t like you because you’re mean to him. Don’t tell him to shut up. Speak to him nicely.” Chrissy crouched down, patted Drogo, and in a stern yet friendly voice commanded him to hush and to sit, which the pup did. “Un-fucking-believable!” both Jack and Slade exclaimed simultaneously. “Anyway, who the hell is Veronica?” Jack repeated. “Don’t play dumb, Daniels. Veronica. My best friend in high school? The one you slept with and never spoke to again. Thus causing her to never speak to me again. You ruined our friendship with your little one-night tryst.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Chris. Is that what had you so mad at me?” “Yes. That’s why I didn’t speak with you for months my senior year. I needed my friend, and I lost her because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants. But it was a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it. Although the fact that you’ve had so many women you don’t even remember her makes me think you’re even more of a jerk than I thought.” She pulled her hands away from him and turned back to face Slade. “Dude, I didn’t know you bagged Veronica too,” Slade said, and reached toward Jack for a congratulatory fist bump. Jack kept his hands by his side, still looking confused. Slade dropped his hand and said, “Anyway, about the fight, I’m—” “Wait—what? You slept with Veronica too?” a completely shocked Chrissy interrupted Slade. “Fuck yeah! Your friend was a hot piece of ass. You were at a party and you left with someone that night … Jack, I think. If I remember correctly, Jack was angry you were there and he took you home. Veronica was pissed off that she was left behind. One thing led to another and she was all over me. How could I resist? I was young. Hormones controlled my brain back then. You know how that goes, man,” he said, appealing to Jack with his palms out. “I mean, not even you were able to resist. How come you never told me?” “You’re a pig!” Chrissy slapped the back of Slade’s

head. “Dude, I did not sleep with Veronica!” Jack said to Slade, and then turned to Chrissy. “Seriously, Chris, I didn’t sleep with her. I remember your friend. I would never do that to you. I always thought you had a little crush on me, and that would’ve been fucked up on my part.” “I did not have a crush on you. Are you sure you didn’t sleep with her?” Chrissy asked, still shocked, and now a little embarrassed that Jack thought she’d had a crush on him. He had always been gorgeous. Of course she’d had a crush on him, but he didn’t need to know that. And anyway, it was barely even a crush. It was a tiny little infatuation. I only pictured him naked and all over me a few times … a day. “Yes. I’m positive. I can’t believe you’ve been mad at me all these years for something I didn’t even do.” Now Jack seemed angry. Very angry. “Bro, she was hot!” Slade chimed in. “Shut up, Slade!” both Chrissy and Jack yelled at the same time. “I had heard through the grapevine that you had sex with her and never called and that because of our connection she stopped speaking to me. She’d always had a crush on you, Jack, and I assumed the rumors were true. I guess it makes more sense that she’d be mad at me because Slade slept with her, since he is my brother.”

She threw a glare over her shoulder at Slade. For all these years she had been holding a grudge with Jack over Veronica, and it hadn’t even been him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She was consumed by a wave of guilt for having been so mean to Jack after he had been nothing short of great and supportive toward her since she arrived. There was still the issue of his cage fighting, but that was no reason to be uncaring toward him. It just meant she couldn’t date him. She owed him an apology, but that was for another time. There were more pressing issues at hand. “Can we talk about this later?” she said, looking at Jack apologetically. He nodded, his arms crossed over his chest, obviously mad. She turned to her brother. “In light of everything, I don’t even know where to start.” Chrissy took a step toward Slade. “First, you’re an asshole.” She poked his hard chest. “You slept with my best friend and never called her back. Do you know how much I needed a friend back then? You are so selfish, Slade. I can’t believe you did that. You knew how much I needed a friend,” she repeated. “I’m sorry, Chris. I was young and stupid. I didn’t do it to ruin your friendship. I was thinking with my dick. Honestly—” Chrissy interrupted him, “Honestly, you didn’t even think about me. That’s what you were going to say, weren’t you?” Slade nodded. “Of course, you only

thought about getting laid. It never even crossed your mind that it might affect my friendship with her.” Her brother seemed ashamed, but it was hard to tell with Slade since he normally seemed so blasé about everything. She decided to change the subject, since there wasn’t much she could do about her broken friendship with Veronica after all these years. “So, I hear you’re fighting … again!” Chrissy yelled at Slade. Slade threw himself on his couch and rested his arms over his head, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Jack grabbed a nearby chair, turned it around, and sat down, his forearms on the back of the chair. He was just there lending his support. To whom? He wasn’t really sure. His loyalty had always been to Slade, his brother not by blood but by choice. Right now, though, he just wanted to grab this feisty little woman who had been holding some sort of bitterness toward him for God knows how long and fix all her problems. Protect her from all harm—physical and emotional. Oh, and make sure she never ever stepped outside his house without a bra again. The sight of her chest unrestrained was for his enjoyment only. “What’s there to talk about?” Slade said nonchalantly. “You can’t fight, Slade,” Chrissy shot back adamantly. He let out a laugh. “Really? Says who?” “Says me. You can’t fight. Jack explained why you want to do it, and I get it. I think it’s great that you want to open a training center. I’ll help you in any way I can.

But you can’t risk your life over it.” “Relax, sis. No one is risking their life. I don’t lose. I’ll be in and out in minutes, and a whole lot richer for it. I’d be stupid to let this opportunity pass me by.” Jack stood up. “I didn’t want to get in the middle, but you’re leaving me no choice. Bro, you’re being cocky. You can’t be so sure it’s as easy as getting in and out. Look at you.” Jack pointed to Slade’s face. “That’s not going to heal anytime soon. You know better, dude. You’re being sloppy.” “Whose side are you on, brother?” Slade made it a point to emphasize the word “brother.” “On the side of the person who isn’t being stupid. Right now, that’s not you.” “I already signed up. There are bets placed. I can’t back out now. But even if I could, I don’t want to.” “I’m begging you. Please don’t do this. You are my only family, Slade. Please. Jack told me about the concussions. Have you seen a doctor? What did they tell you? I’ve noticed the tremor in your hand.” “The tremor is nothing, really. The doctors told me I was okay to continue. They just said to be careful.” “That’s because the doctors work for the sponsors, stupid. You need to see a doctor who isn’t tainted by money,” Jack said. “Fuck you, Jack. Don’t call me stupid. And stop taking her side, asshole!” Chrissy cut him off. “How could you say it’s nothing?

It’s a sign that all the blows to your head have caused damage, some of which is permanent. Did the doctor tell you what’ll happen next?” Slade didn’t respond, so she took a step closer. “You’ll start forgetting things. At first it will be small and insignificant, but as time passes, it will be more substantial. It’s the first sign of dementia. Not to mention those tremors. They will get worse. Have you seen those old boxers who speak unintelligibly and have shaky hands and twitches? That’s from multiple concussions through the years. And that’s not even the worst-case scenario. You have to stop before it’s too late.” Slade turned his face to Jack and shook his head in disbelief. “Since when are you a gossiping little bitch? Why’d you tell her all this, man?” “Since you became a stupid dumb-ass in need of a good kick in the pants to knock some sense into you.” “Stop arguing, you two.” Chrissy stood in front of both men and flicked each one on the head the way she’d seen Mrs. Daniels do countless times when they were younger. They winced, whined, and rubbed where she had flicked. “Slade, you’re totally missing the point. The fact that Jack told me is irrelevant. Either way, I’m a doctor. I had already noticed the tremor. Don’t be angry with him. He’s just looking out for you. You can die if you’re hit in the head.” Tears started to stream down her face. “Ah, fuck, don’t cry, Chris. You know I hate it when

you cry,” Slade said. “Don’t do this. You can get a loan. Go to the bank. I’ll even cosign for you. Please, Slade.” “I’m sorry, Chrissy, but it’s not negotiable. This one”—Slade pointed to Jack—“even threatened to arrest me, so I suggest we don’t talk about it in front of law enforcement.” He scowled at his best friend. Jack rolled his eyes. Chrissy, still in tears, leaned closer to her brother. “We’re just trying to help you, Slade. You don’t have to do this. There has to be a way out.” “If your bail is revoked, you’ll be in jail and then you can’t fight. Is that what I’m going to have to do?” Jack added. “The men that put these events together are expecting a fight. They’re bringing in a cage, dude. A lot of money was invested to set this up. They’ll be waiting for me when I get out of jail, and then I’ll really be dead. So arresting me isn’t protection at all. It’s a death sentence.” Chrissy gasped. “You two are screwing with my concentration,” Slade went on. “I need to focus the next few days, so please, butt out. I’m doing this. It’s going to be fine. I wish you had more faith in me, Chrissy. I really do love you and I’ll make it up to you. You’ll see.” Slade got up, clearly annoyed. “But I’m done talking about this.” He went up the stairs two at a time, and slammed his bedroom door. Drogo, who had been lying on the floor quietly since

Chrissy’s command, startled and jumped to his feet at the sound. “Idiot,” Jack mumbled. “I guess I’m staying in town after all,” said Chrissy, disheartened. “Oh, no! No. No. No. You’re not going to that fight, Chris.” “Oh, yes I am. I’m a doctor. If he gets hurt, I can help. He could get seriously injured. I have to be there.” Jack pulled Chrissy toward the door. “No. You’re not going. That’s final.” Lazily Drogo stretched and yawned before following them out of the house. “The hell I’m not. Who do you think you are, telling me where I can and cannot go? Why are you pulling me back to your house? Slow down.” Jack reached down and wrapped one arm around her thighs, lifted her up, and threw her over his shoulder. Drogo barked behind them, jumping up and down trying to nibble on the long black hair that flowed down Jack’s leg. “Drogo, don’t bite my hair! Jack, put me down this instant!” Chrissy wriggled, kicked, and punched him as hard as she could, but he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he stomped angrily to his house, opened the door, walked to his couch, and threw her on it. Oof. Chrissy quickly sat up and tried to catch her breath. She pulled her shirt down and ran her fingers through her hair. “What the hell, Daniels?”

“I’ve had enough of you Martins for one day. You’re both stubborn fools. You cannot go to that fight. I can’t take you, and you aren’t going alone.” He reached down and cupped her chin, “Do. You. Understand?” “Why can’t you just go with me if you’re that worried?” “Because I …” Jack looked conflicted, and Chrissy wasn’t sure why. “Uh … It’s, uh, on Saturday, and I work that day.” “Oh. Well, I have to go—with or without you.” Drogo jumped up on her lap as if he was joining forces with Chrissy in her plan to be at the fight. If he could talk, she thought, he’d probably say, I’ve got your back, Chrissy! “Stop looking at me like that, Drogo,” Jack said but the dog continued to stare down his owner. “Chrissy, I thought you had to deal with some sort of mess back in Miami. Why don’t you go, and I’ll let you know how the fight turns out.” “Are you crazy? No way. I know you’re worried and I appreciate the overprotective big-brother thing you got going on, but I can handle myself. Trust me.” She set Drogo on the floor, stood up, pulled out her phone from her pocket, and started to dial. Big brother? What the hell? “There are a lot of things running through my mind right now.” He grabbed her biceps and with a quick jerk drew her closer to him. The cell phone in her hand fell to the floor. “But you and me as brother and sister … that’s not one of those things.

That ship sailed the moment I felt your nipples against my chest and your tongue in my mouth.” Oh, my! Chrissy looked at him wide-eyed. “Who were you going to call?” Jack asked. Chrissy bit her tongue a little. He really knew how to get her all hot and bothered, especially with that unexpected dirty mouth of his. “Taxi,” was all that came out of her mouth. He let her go, picked the phone up from the floor, and shut it off. “A taxi?” “I need to go get my car.” He ran his hands along his face. “You are always so difficult, you know that? I’ll take you to get your car and change the tire. I have a spare one in the garage. You could’ve just asked me for a ride. You don’t need to call a cab.” “I don’t want to be more of a nuisance.” “You’re not a nuisance. I wish you were a little less difficult, but you’re not a nuisance. Come on.” “Thanks, Jack.” Still feeling guilty for wrongfully blaming him all those years for the Veronica thing, yet grateful, she leaned forward, intending to give him a peck on the cheek but was unable to control herself as she gently planted a small, innocent kiss on his lips. She began to move away, but he reached for the back of her neck and pulled her toward him and kissed her back, hard. Her mouth opened, allowing his tongue entrance. Her arms snaked around his neck, one hand reaching up

to fist his hair, but there was nothing to hold on to. The feel of the rough texture on her hand made her want to crawl into his skin. She pressed harder against him, pushing him into the wall. In one fluid motion he turned her around so that she was now against it. Without hesitation, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He let out a moan, cupped her ass, and pushed her even harder against the wall. “Jack,” she whimpered into his mouth. “Hold on to me,” he said, and she tightened her grip around his neck with her arms and squeezed her legs. He reached between them to unbutton and unzip her jeans and slid them down just past her ass. “You’re not wearing any panties?” “No. Don’t have clean clothes. My stuff’s still in my car, remember?” “Jesus Christ,” he groaned. With his left hand wrapped around her waist, he slid his right hand down, past the divide of her ass, to her wet and ready entrance. He slipped a finger inside her, and she clamped her legs even tighter around him. “Jack! I need you to …” “I know what you need, baby. Shh. Just hold on to me.” Her body undulated against his jean-covered erection. He must’ve known she was about to come, because at the most perfect moment he slipped a second finger inside and deepened the kiss as his fingers worked their magic.

Chrissy stopped breathing. She stopped thinking. All she could manage to do was feel, and what she felt was pure ecstasy. “Chris, let go. I have you. Come for me.”

Chrissy’s head fell back against the wall, and Jack felt her insides clench around his fingers as her body stiffened, a long whimper escaping her mouth. Chrissy’s face as she climaxed against his body was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. He didn’t think he would ever have enough of her. She held on tight while she caught her breath. When he saw she wasn’t going to melt into the floor, he slowly released his grip and lowered her down. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes glimmered. “Nice job, Officer.” She swatted his ass. He laughed. Nothing better than a woman who didn’t take sex so seriously. Without any warning she shoved him against the wall and dropped to her knees. He was caught completely off guard. “Chrissy?” “Now it’s your turn to shut up.” “No, baby. That’s not what … I mean … you don’t … have to … Jesus …” She was already undoing his jeans, and it rendered his mind unable to put words together to form a coherent sentence. She grabbed his

erection and started stroking it. Then, without hesitation, she put it in her mouth. All the blood from his entire body flowed south to his dick the moment he looked down and saw her mouth sheath him. And he was already hard from getting her off. She continued to stroke, lick, and suck until he couldn’t take it anymore. “Chrissy, baby, you should probably stop now.” He barely got the words out, but instead of stopping, she tightened her grip and took him even deeper into her mouth toward the back of her throat. That was his undoing, and he came hard and fast. His hand wrapped around her ponytail as she licked every last drop. He had been worried about her melting when he should’ve been worried about himself, because when she finished licking him clean, his knees buckled and he slumped down to the floor. He reached for her and placed her on his lap. “Fuck. You destroyed me. You know that? I will never be the same again. You’ve completely ruined me for anyone else. And we haven’t even had sex yet.” She smiled up at him, and his heart skipped a beat. He looked to the side at a bewildered Drogo. “Shit. I think we totally traumatized Drogo.” Chrissy snorted out a laugh. “I think you’re right. Poor thing.” A few moments later, Chrissy spoke again. “Jack?” “Mmm?” he said lazily, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you since I arrived.

I thought you were the reason that Veronica stopped talking to me. She had been my only real friend, and I lost her, and I thought it was your fault. I’m sorry.” “You should’ve talked to me when it happened, baby.” “You’re right.” She looked up at him, and he smiled. “Am I forgiven?” “After what just happened? Yes, you are forgiven for everything that happened in the past and anything that will happen in the future.” They both laughed. After a few moments, she stood up and walked up to the bathroom to freshen up and to finish getting dressed in the same clothes she’d worn yesterday. “Ready?” she asked when she returned downstairs. Apparently, they weren’t going to have any more discussion of what had just occurred. Which suited Jack just fine, since his feelings were all over the place and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He still had lots of wild oats to sow, and he had never really wanted a relationship, because he thought he’d miss his freedom and be constrained by the accountability a relationship required. The occasional one-night stand had always been enough because all he wanted fulfilled were his sexual needs. But now he knew he didn’t want Chrissy to leave town. He knew that this was far more than a momentary lapse of judgment. He wanted to ask her to stay … to stay with him. He wanted to protect her, own her, claim her. To let the world know that this incredible woman was his and only his. But his mind was saying: You’re being a complete

pussy. It was a blow job, not a profession of love. Man up! All you have is sexual chemistry and pent-up desire. His heart was saying: You’ve always wanted to protect her, even when you didn’t see her as the beautiful woman she really is. Make it work, asshole! She has all the qualities you’ve been missing in all your past relationships: strength, intelligence, and loyalty. Plus she’s sexy as hell … His mind retorted: Pussy! He shook his head, trying to get all the thoughts out. His heart and his mind had better start getting their shit together, fast! “Come on.” He pulled her toward his car.

In silence they drove to where Chrissy had left her car the previous evening. Her mind was racing. That was the most mind-blowing orgasm she’d ever had. She knew without a doubt that sex with this man would be lifechanging. She didn’t even know where she’d gotten the nerve to pleasure him like that. She’d never done anything so brazen. Usually that was not something she had ever enjoyed or offered freely. In her past relationships it had always felt like a chore, but with Jack it was hot. Enjoyable. Empowering. She had to remind herself that it was just sex. The

Veronica issue had been eliminated, but that didn’t mean that they were compatible. There were still a dozen other reasons why they’d never work out. What if she allowed him into her heart and he tired of her? How would that leave her? Like years ago with Brian—lost and broken? She didn’t know if she could uproot her life for a man, not again. Not that Jack had offered her anything even remotely close to what was brewing in her mind at the moment. He hadn’t been shy about explaining, in detail, all the sexual things he wanted to do with her, to her, but that was all. Yet this small gesture of helping her with her car was more than any other man had ever done for her, including her own brother. Was she so screwed up that a man changing her tire would cause her heart to skip a beat and question her life decisions? Make her want to stay in town just to see what would come from the sexual relationship he seemed to be offering? Get a grip. He’s changing your tire, not proposing marriage. “Stay in the car,” Jack instructed. She saw him go around to the trunk of his own car, pull out a spare tire, and walk back. Then he began doing whatever it is that changing a tire entailed. When he was finished, he opened her door and gave her his keys. “Drive my car back to my house. I’ll follow you.” “Why can’t I just drive my own car?” “Because, baby, you shouldn’t be driving your shitty car, with that shitty spare tire I just put on it. We need to

go buy a real tire. But this will at least get us home.” “Okay.” She jumped over the center console of his Jeep and headed to his house. She was tormented, and the more she thought about it, the more her mind staggered. Maybe he wasn’t a white knight; maybe he was just a problem. She had just wanted to come into town to bail out her brother and leave. All this “baby” business, combined with the killer physique, the stuff that his hands could do to her body, and that sinful mouth that said all sorts of dirty things to her—none of that was what she needed in her life right now. She was finally ready to stop traveling and put down roots, and more than ready to earn the income of a reputable doctor. And while Jack might’ve had her in a tizzy at the moment, ultimately, she couldn’t deal with his little hobby: cage fighting. She hated violence, and he did it for fun. Fun! Beating the crap out of someone else was his idea of fun! Was that a deal breaker? Since her father had passed away in that terrible car accident, she had become the responsible one. The one who took care of people—her patients, her brother, and eventually her boyfriends. She was in charge. Independent. She was not used to being taken care of, and this protective thing Jack had going on was uncharted territory for her. She wasn’t sure how to navigate the waters, or if she even wanted to navigate them. Oh, stop kidding yourself. Hell yeah, I want to navigate them—or do anything else—with this man and

his magical hands! Boy, was she in trouble! Why hadn’t she noticed him before? Okay, she had noticed him—she wasn’t blind. But she’d never really noticed him. He’d always been just Jack. Slade’s best friend. The hot guy with the ridiculous name. Bossy. A jerk. He was still a jerk and still bossy, but for some reason, she wanted to be bossed around by this jerk! Just thinking about him put a goofy smile on her face. Damn, how archaic had she become in the last few days that she suddenly couldn’t wait to be possessed and dominated by this man? Okay, so now Jack had turned her into some needy, submissive doofus. No. This would not happen. She quickly formulated a plan. No more sexual anything with Jack. He was too intense. She had made a mistake, but no more. She had a great job waiting for her in Miami, and she was not going to let another man dictate her future. Especially one who was so similar to Brian, her first real boyfriend. Her mind was set. Her resolve was tight. No. More. Sex. With. Jack! “I don’t even know where to start,” she said to no one in particular as she climbed out of Jack’s big Jeep back at his house. “What do you mean?” He looked amused, especially when she didn’t answer him. “Are you talking to yourself?”

Chrissy ticked off, with her fingers, her to-do list. “First, call a cab to take me to a wheel store so I can buy a new wheel. Then find someone to install said wheel. Next, find a hotel. Finally, kick my brother’s ass.” She was pacing back and forth by the car. “Whoa! Just wait a second. Breathe.” He held her shoulders down. She took a deep breath, causing the swells of her breasts to rise and fall. “One thing at a time. Stop it with the whole cab thing. It’s really starting to piss me off. And it’s not a wheel, it’s a tire.” He chuckled. “First, let’s get your bags outta the car. Then we’ll go to the ‘wheel place.’ After that, I’ll replace your tire. You’re not staying in a hotel. You’ll stay here with me until the fight. Although I don’t think you should go, but you aren’t going to listen to me, are you?” She shook her head. “You said it’s on Saturday, right?” He hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I am assuming you’re not going to let me go alone, huh?” “You bet your cute little ass you’re not going alone. Even with me, you get into trouble. Who knows what you’d do by yourself,” he said. When she gave him a huge smile, he added, “You know, you remind me of someone else who’s just as stubborn.” He nodded in the direction of Slade’s house. “Thank you, Jack. I really appreciate all you’re doing for us. For me.”

“We grew up together, Chris. Of course I’d do this for you. You’re like family.” She flinched at the family comment, because she didn’t see him like family and the things they’d done were not things family should be doing. Damn it, her female parts still tingled when she thought about all those nonfamilial things they had done together, which did not bode well for her plan not to have sex with Jack. “My family doesn’t usually feel me up against walls,” she said. Jack smiled seductively. “I’m just better at the familything than most.”

Ah, hell, who was Jack kidding? He had already corrected her once about his feelings toward her. They were not brotherly in any sense of the word. Jack spent the next half hour fixing Chrissy’s tire and thinking about her. Chrissy on his bed. Chrissy against the wall. Chrissy on the hood of his car. Chrissy in … When he was finished, he went inside his house frazzled by the lingering thoughts in his head and then by the delicious smell that overtook his senses.

Chapter 7 As a thank-you, Chrissy made lasagna while Jack worked on her car. She watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled. “It smells delicious.” She smiled. “I hope you like it. I know it’s your favorite. Go wash up and I’ll serve you.” He agreed and went upstairs. When he returned he was wearing his police uniform. She was taken aback by how sexy he looked. Unlike other women, she’d never been partial to men in uniform, but now, seeing this man in a uniform, she had a whole new appreciation for the fascination. “You have to work tonight?” she asked, her mood deflating a little. “Yeah. I got called in while I was outside changing your tire. Will you be okay here on your own?” “I’m not on my own.” She reached down and patted Drogo. “He’ll keep me company. Come, eat.” She motioned to the table. Jack looked at her and then to Drogo, shaking his head with a smile. When he sat she passed him a plate of food. They ate in comfortable silence, lost in their own thoughts. “God, Chris, this is delicious. I don’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal this good.” He ate every last bit on his plate.

“Glad you like it. There’s more.” She grabbed his empty plate and served him a second helping of lasagna, salad, and bread. “Thanks. You’re not going to eat any more?” “Are you kidding? I’m stuffed.” She patted her stomach. “Unlike you, I’m not a growing boy.” He laughed. “No. You are definitely not a boy.” He finished his second helping of food and began to clear the table. “No, I got it. Go to work,” said Chrissy. “You sure?” “Of course. Thanks again for the car and for letting me stay here.” He waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. Give me your phone.” “Huh?” “Your phone. Let me have it.” She cocked her head, confused, but gave him her phone without any further question. He slid his fingers across the screen and less than a minute later gave it back. “I programmed my number in it. Just in case. Gotta go. Be a good boy, Drogo. And Chrissy, try to stay out of trouble while I’m out. Okay?” “I’ll try.” She winked impishly as he left. When he was gone, suddenly she felt alone. She cleaned up the kitchen and then paced around. She peeked out the front window and noticed Slade’s

car was parked there, which meant he was probably home. She packed up a piece of lasagna and some bread and salad and went next door. Slade opened the door just as she was about to knock, causing her to lose her balance, and the food almost came crashing down. His quick reflexes saved the food and her dignity. “What are you doing here, Chris?” She noticed his clothes. He looked like he was going to the gym. Or, worse, to a fight. “I came to bring you food. I made lasagna.” “It smells real good. Thanks.” He reached to grab it, blocking her entrance to the house. “Your eye is starting to heal.” She touched the bruise right under his eye. “It looks so much better than it did yesterday.” “Yeah. I’ve been icing it round the clock like you said. It looks worse than it feels.” “Were you going somewhere?” “Yes.” “Where?” “Do I have to tell you everything now?” “No. You don’t have to tell me everything, but I hope you’ll tell me anyway.” “I’m going to train, Chris. And I don’t want to hear any comments about it. Okay?” She shoved the food toward him, stomped away, and pulled out her phone. She sent a text to Jack.

CHRISSY: I think he’s going to fight. He says he’s training, but who trains at this time? He replied almost immediately. JACK: Fighters train at this time. Fighters train at all times. Stay home, Chris. CHRISSY: So you don’t think he’s lying? JACK: Why would he? He already told us he’s fighting. Why would he lie about this? Chrissy pondered that, and it made sense. As if he could read her mind, he sent another text. JACK: I know what you’re thinking. Stay home. Damn it. CHRISSY: Geez. Relax, caveman. JACK: I’ll show you caveman if you move from that house. She couldn’t help but smile at his text. She put the phone away in her pocket and paced through the house, unable to get the anxiety out of her system. She looked out the window to see that Slade’s car was still there. He was probably devouring the lasagna right now. A few

moments later she heard the door to his house shut, and she ran to the window to see. He was still dressed like he was going to a fight. “Damn, it Slade!” she yelled, startling a sleeping Drogo. “Stay, puppy. I’m just heading out for one second. Don’t tell your daddy.” She bent down and rubbed the dog’s belly. “This is our little secret.” Chrissy heard Slade’s car roar to life. Without much thought, she ran out to her car and started following him. She tried to be as stealthy as possible so he wouldn’t know she was tailing him. Twenty minutes later, he pulled up to a dimly lit parking lot outside a small condemned building, or at least that’s what it looked like. She parked at a corner, away from view of his car, and walked toward the door. It was nighttime and there wasn’t anyone in the parking lot, but she still tried to not draw attention to herself. Unsure what to expect upon opening the door, she paced anxiously for a few moments trying to figure out how to get inside. If she opened the door and confronted Slade, he’d be upset. Or worse, she might encounter some adrenaline junkies ready to pounce on her, like at the last fight. Her phone beeped, startling her half to death. Nervously she took it out of her pocket, trying to silence it as fast as possible, but she fumbled it, and it fell out of her hand. The screen cracked when it hit the pavement. “Damn it!” she muttered. Of course, her luck was right on track: Worst. Luck. Ever.

She could see through the cracks on the screen that Jack had sent a text. It looked like he was asking about her whereabouts, but with part of the screen broken, she couldn’t make it out. Just then it started ringing. She tapped on the Ignore button and slipped it back into her pocket. She walked around the building looking for another entrance. Twice she saw men walking toward the door and she hid to avoid them. Then she noticed a small window on the side. But the window was more than six feet up, and since she was a measly five feet four inches tall, there was no way she could look in the window all on her own. She peered around to see if she could find something to stand on. At the far end corner of the building were some milk crates. “Perfect!” she whispered. She hauled two crates toward the window, set one on top of the other, and then stepped up, careful not to lose her balance. Careful not to blow her cover, she slowly peeked in. When she was sure no one could see her, she became more confident and leaned in. It was dark outside where she stood, but inside the building there were lights. She saw a boxing ring at the far corner, a cage for fighting, exercise equipment, punching bags along one wall, and about a dozen men. It was a gym. A training gym for fighters, it seemed. She let out a breath. She was relieved. Even though it still meant he’d be fighting in a few days, and this was

obviously a training session for it, she was glad he wasn’t fighting today. Then she saw him begin to wrap his hands and put on gloves, before stepping into the cage with a big burly monster of a man. It seemed like they were only practice-fighting. Probably part of the training, she hoped. However, she knew that any blows to the head could cause severe damage, and she was nervous. A few moments ago, when she had realized he was only training, she’d been ready to leave, but now that she saw he was about to practice-fight, she couldn’t muster the strength to make her feet move. If he got hurt, he would need her. She was a doctor and had years of medical experience, after all. “The vigilante strikes again,” whispered a deep, husky voice from behind her. She was so engrossed in what was happening inside the gym that she hadn’t noticed Jack walking toward her, and his voice startled her, causing her to lose her balance and tumble toward the ground. Luckily, he was close enough that he caught her right before she fell. “You scared the shit out of me, Jack.” She punched his shoulder playfully, and clutched her heart. He was still holding her cradled against his body. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Chrissy?” “Let me go. I have to see what’s happening in there.” He slowly released her. “You know you’re crazy, right?”

“I am not crazy! It probably would be less crazy if I went inside, wouldn’t it?” But before he could answer, she continued. “But Slade would be upset and he would kick me out. So I’m just watching. Right now, they’re only play-fighting. I won’t interfere unless he gets injured.” “Play-fighting?” “Yeah. Or practice-fighting? Whatever it’s called. His hands are wrapped and he’s in a cage with some big guy, but they aren’t actually fighting. You know … full force.” He let out a snort. “Seriously? For someone as worldly as you are, you really are clueless sometimes. It’s called sparring. Not play-fighting or practice-fighting. Sparring.” “Oh, okay. Well, there you go. They’re spar-fighting.” She stepped back onto the milk crates and pressed her forehead against the window. “Not spar-fighting. Sparring.” “Whatever. I’ve been stuck in the middle of jungles and living in huts for the last few years. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the weird pastimes of America’s youth or what’s cool in the sports world these days. But ask me to perform emergency surgery using a pocketknife and only your local moonshine for antiseptic, and I’m your girl. At any rate, I can’t leave until they finish. He could still get hurt even if they are just … sparring.” She said it slowly, as if testing out the

word. He frowned. “Seriously?” “ ’Fraid so.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as if that would help him make sense of what he’d just heard. “Woman, do you ever listen to anything? I asked you to stay home. Why didn’t you answer my calls?” Still looking into the window, she reached into her pocket and handed Jack her phone. “Why’s your phone broken?” “Dropped it,” she whispered. “You don’t need to whisper. They can’t hear you. These are concrete walls, and with all the noise inside, as well as the noise from the nearby freeway, I’m pretty sure you can talk normally.” She shrugged and looked down. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” “Yes, I am. But an infuriating woman is going around to dangerous places at night, looking for trouble. So I came to rescue her.” “I’m not leaving until he does,” she said, pointing toward the window. Jack let out a big breath, frustrated. “I know the owners. I train here too, by the way. Can I convince you to come inside?” “No way! He’d be pissed off.” “Fine.” He sighed in defeat, and she gave a triumphant smile. She went back to looking through the window,

letting out a stifled gasp when a punch landed on Slade. Luckily, most of the punches were to his body and not to his face or head. Jack leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You know that what you’ve got on isn’t proper night-stalking apparel, right?” His hand reached out and stroked one of her bare legs. “It was a last-minute decision. I didn’t have a chance to change. But what’s wrong with my clothes?” “They’re bright pink, baby. Everyone knows you wear black to a sting operation of this caliber.” He chuckled. “Hey, don’t laugh at me.” She swatted away the hand that was rubbing her leg. “And you don’t wear a tiny skirt and flip-flops. If you fall during the high-speed foot chase that would undoubtedly ensue, you could hurt yourself.” “Ha ha. Very funny. And, it’s not a tiny skirt, it’s a summer dress.” He continued running his hand up and down her bare leg. “So, you train here too?” She spoke to Jack, but her eyes were glued to the window. “Yeah, I do. In fact, I have a fight coming up.” Her back stiffened and she looked down. “What?” “Yeah. I have a fight coming up. The day after tomorrow.” “Cancel it.” “Cancel it?” “Why do you two idiots insist on getting hurt? Can

you not fight, please? At least while I’m in town?” “It almost sounds like you care, Chris.” She let out a groan and looked down at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.” But it didn’t come out as self-assured as she’d hoped, and he grinned. “Oh, get that goofy grin off your face. You know I care. We’re like family, right?” She threw his words back at him just as he began running little openmouthed kisses along her shoulder. “Yeah. Just like family,” he mumbled, and stopped kissing her when he realized what he was doing—in a dark alley. “So, where and when do you fight? You won’t change your mind, will you?” “I’ve been training for months for this fight. I love fighting, Chrissy, and I’m always careful. Plus I’m good at it. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s sanctioned. Anyway, I don’t fight often, only a few times a year.” She looked at him, concern in her eyes. “You going to come cheer me on?” “I don’t know, Jack. I really don’t think I can stomach it,” Chrissy said reluctantly. Then she realized what he’d said. “Wait! What are you talking about? You just fought a few days ago. ‘Don’t fight often,’ my ass!” “You and your wonderful ass need to calm down.” He chuckled. “It’s rare that I, or any fighter, will have fights so close to each other. Before that, I hadn’t had a fight for almost a year. It’s not safe to fight so close together. Your body needs time to recover and you need time to

train. But I signed up for these last two because I’ve had a beef with these two opponents for years. It was an opportunity I couldn’t resist, and yes, they happened to be back-to-back. But if I’d gotten fucked up in the last match, I wouldn’t be fighting again. I’m not stupid. Unlike your idiot brother, who thinks he’s indestructible.” He took a deep breath and took a step closer to her. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable doing, but it would be nice if you went. You can see for yourself that it isn’t as bad as you imagine it to be.” Chrissy thought for a moment as she continued to look through the window. “Since I’m in town anyway, I guess I’ll go.” She smiled down at him and then added, “I’ll bring my backpack full of goodies.” He grinned. “We’ll go together. It’s about forty minutes away, and it starts at four-thirty.” “Sounds like a date.” But as soon as she said it, she covered her mouth. “I mean, not a date. An outing … between family … Ugh! You know what I mean.” He just laughed. “Yes. Just a family outing.”

It was another half hour before Chrissy finally decided

she could stop watching through the window. “It looks like he’s finished. He’s changing. Come on, let’s go.” She jumped off the crates. “Hurry up, slowpoke. I don’t want him to see me.” She pulled him toward her car. “Oh, you parked next to me. How’d you find my car? I thought I was being so undercover.” He laughed. “You’re always laughing at me,” she said, with a pout. “God, you’re adorable, you know that?” She didn’t know why, but she had a sudden urge to kiss him. She knew it wasn’t the best idea—it completely went against her plan—but he was irresistible. She put a hand on the nape of his neck and tugged his head down toward her. She rose onto the tips of her toes and gently swiped her closed lips against his. As she pulled away, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her toward him to deepen the kiss. “Just so you know. Your lips are not allowed to touch my lips chastely. They make me go crazy. So even if you mean for these little kisses to be innocent, I will always make them into something more. I can’t help it. If you don’t want me to devour you, don’t kiss me.” She didn’t respond, and he must have taken that as an invitation because his mouth collided with hers again. It was a frenzy of desire and heat. He lifted her up to the hood of his car, and she threw her arms around his neck. He placed his hands right above her knees and roughly spread her thighs open, then reached for her hips and

brought her closer to the edge of the hood so that he could fit his body snugly between her thighs. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he groaned. Why do my legs keep doing that? She didn’t remember the last time she wanted a man as much as she wanted Jack. Okay, it had never occurred before—that’s why she couldn’t remember. God, the man could kiss. The kiss itself was an orgasm waiting to happen. She couldn’t help but rub against him, and the more she rubbed, the more frenzied the kiss became. His hand ran all the way up the back of her leg and under the hem of her dress. Instead of fighting him, she inched closer. If it were possible for her to get any closer to him, to actually crawl into his skin, at that moment she would have done it. “Baby, my God. You feel so good,” he whispered against her neck as his kisses moved down to her collarbone, causing her head to fall back allowing him full access. But the noises from people leaving the gym shook them out of the moment. “Damn it,” he groaned. “Come on.” He hoisted her up and over his shoulder, then headed toward the other side of her car, where they’d be better concealed. “Where are you taking me?” She pounded on his lower back. “We can’t do this here, Chrissy.” He reached her car and flipped her back down. Her big eyes were glazed with desire. “Get in your car. I’ll see you tomorrow

morning.” “You’re not sleeping at your house?” She didn’t mean for her voice to sound so dejected. “I work all night, honey.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek, then helped her into her car and buckled her in. She was frazzled. Confused. Turned on. He reached for his pocket and took out a key. “Here, these are the keys to my house. I bet you locked yourself out when you ran out to your covert mission. Can you call me when you get home so I know you’re safe?” he asked. “I’ll see what I can do with this broken phone. If not, I’ll just use your house phone.” “Sleep well, babe.” He leaned in, kissed her again on the cheek, and closed her door. On the drive home she thought about the kiss that still stung her lips. Honey. Baby. Babe. What the hell? She didn’t want to start something that she knew was destined to fail. He lived five hours away from where she was planning on building a life for herself, and there was no way in hell she would stay in town just for a guy. Or would she? He represented everything she didn’t want in a man. Right? He was just a typical horny male. And she … well she was attracted to him. That’s all it was. As she saw it, she had two options. One: stop the flirting. No more touching or kissing. She’d be gone in a few days. Start her job, find a good man, get married, have babies. That was the plan. The sensible plan. The right

plan. Well, for all of six hours, she had stuck to that plan and it hadn’t worked. It had been an epic failure. Two: perhaps she could accept that there was an attraction between them. She could have some fun for a few days, and then after Slade’s fight—assuming Slade survived the fight—she’d walk away after having some of the best sex of her life. No feelings hurt. Just sex. Yeah, right. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She’d read enough romance novels to know that never worked out. She would be crushed. Okay, she was sticking to the earlier plan. This time she would be stronger. Technically, she hadn’t even broken her first resolution. She hadn’t had sex with Jack. They’d just kissed. A lot! Okay, well more than just kissed, but still, they hadn’t had sex sex. So she was sticking to the earlier plan but amending it somewhat. New plan: no more sex, or almost sex, or kissing, or touching, or fondling of any kind with Jack. “You listening, libido?” she yelled to herself. “Hands off the beautiful man!” If only her heart could follow instructions too.

Chapter 8 Chrissy wasn’t home when Jack arrived early the next morning. Her car was gone, so he knew she wasn’t with Slade either. He tried calling her, but it went straight to voicemail—he chalked that up to her broken phone. After he’d slept a few hours, he’d go buy her a new phone. She shouldn’t be wandering around in that pieceof-shit car phoneless. He was bone-tired. It had been a hectic night. After he had said goodnight to Chrissy, he’d received a call about a home invasion. Upon arriving at the scene, he’d discovered that one of the homeowners had been severely beaten by the perpetrator. Dealing with that call had taken up most of his shift. Now Jack took the fastest albeit most refreshing shower of his life, grabbed a pair of boxers, and threw himself on his bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

A delicious smell woke him. As he opened his eyes, he realized that it was already dark outside. Barefoot, he

padded down to the kitchen to see Chrissy cooking and Slade sitting at the table nursing a beer. “Hey,” he mumbled in a raspy, sleepy voice. Slade gave him that chin nod that men often did. Chrissy peeked out from the kitchen. “I hope we didn’t wake you, sleepyhead.” She was wearing sneakers, a tank top, and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. God, did this woman own anything that wasn’t super-short or tiny? Her toned arms glistened from the heat in the kitchen. Her black hair was loose and hung low to her back. Her black-framed glasses were a little crooked on her face, and she had on an apron that he knew belonged to him but which he never used—it was actually longer than her shorts. God, he loved her legs, especially when they were wrapped around him. Drogo sat on the rug a few feet away from her. The image of Chrissy in his home looking so very domestic and comfortable made him feel all sorts of unusual things that he wasn’t ready to delve into just yet. He shook his head and took a step toward Drogo. Surprisingly, the dog didn’t move and even seemed to welcome Jack’s approach. His tail wagged slightly, and it appeared as if he was happy. Jack smiled back. They were having a silent conversation. Jack moved his hand toward the pup, but as soon as his hand made contact with Drogo’s skin, the son of a bitch snapped at him! “Shit!” Jack jumped back and inspected the two little indentations on his index finger.

“Bad dog, Drogo. Not good. Not good at all,” Chrissy reprimanded him before reaching for Jack’s hand to check on the damage. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Didn’t break the skin. Shouldn’t have let my guard down. He is a quarter pit bull, after all.” Chrissy rolled her eyes, “Yeah. Look at him. Definitely part pit bull.” “I can’t remember the last time I slept so much. I slept like twelve hours. It smells delicious, by the way.” He yawned and stretched his arms over his head as he spoke. The stretch caused the waistband of his boxers to move a little bit lower, revealing the mouthwatering vee that peeked out from his shorts. He saw Chrissy’s eyes move down and her lips part. The corner of his lips slowly formed a big toothy smile. Whom was she trying to kid? He knew that she was attracted to him. The openmouthed stare was a clear sign of that attraction. His heart and ego swelled. “You mind getting dressed while my sister’s here, bro?” Jack’s eyes snapped to Slade, his words rudely rousing him from his thoughts. Slade must have noticed the silent exchange. Chrissy quickly looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry. Not used to having guests.” He left, slipped on a T-shirt, and came back down. “I made a roast and potatoes,” Chrissy said. “Hope

you’re hungry.” “Starved. You didn’t have to cook.” “I know, but I’m not doing anything else, and it’s really the least I can do.” “Well, I appreciate it. I don’t know how I’m going to go back to sandwiches and pizza when you leave. And look at my traitorous dog—you’re spoiling him. How is he going to go back to canned dog food?” A pang of emptiness hit him all at once. Chrissy would be leaving soon. Damn. Didn’t that just suck? Maybe he was ready to delve deeper. Slade went to the kitchen and set some glasses and plates on the table. As they sat down to eat, the scene reminded him of their childhood. They used to eat at each other’s homes all the time. It was nice. It was nostalgic. “Thank you so much for letting me crash here, Jack,” Chrissy said, “but I think I’m going home tonight. Nextdoor home, not Miami home.” “Oh. Okay.” He was glad he was eating, because if he hadn’t had food in his mouth, the disappointment on his face would have been obvious. “Be ready tomorrow at three. I’ll pick you up and we’ll head out together.” “Sounds good.” “She’s going to your fight?” “Yes, I’m going. Why?” Chrissy replied, although Slade was speaking to Jack. Slade slid his plate back. “So, you only give me a hard

time?” “No. I gave him a hard time too, but it’s different.” “How’s it different, Chris?” “Well, for starters, you’re my brother.” Jack flinched at the comment. What that sounded like to him was: You’re my brother, and I couldn’t care less what happens to Jack because he’s no one important. “Second, you’ve had a series of concussions and you could die. Fucking die! Do you understand that, Slade? Die, as in dead! If you get hit hard enough. One blow right here”—she poked his temple—“and I lose the only person left of my family. You may be a jerk, but you are my only family. And your fights aren’t regulated. I’ve been doing research while I’ve been stuck here dealing with your life and waiting to get on with mine. What you do for a living and what Jack does for recreation are sanctioned, and even if I don’t like it, I can respect it. It’s very different from this underground crap you’ve gotten yourself into. The sanctioned fights have certain rules, referees, drug testing, and other important things that ensure some sort of safety. I still don’t like it because it’s fighting and you know how I feel about violence, Slade. God, how could you not understand how I feel about fighting? You—you were there.” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “Anyway, these underground fights you participate in are dangerous.” “Then don’t come!” Slade pushed his chair back and stood up. His patience had obviously snapped. Without

thinking, Jack also stood and took a step toward Chrissy, shielding her with his body. Slade was normally pretty laid back about almost everything. But when his temper flared, he was dangerous—not that Slade would hurt a woman intentionally, but Jack didn’t want to take a chance. Chrissy was his. “Get out of my way, Daniels. I would never hurt her.” He took a step around Jack. “You don’t understand, Chris. You don’t know what’s going on in my life. You’ve been gone for years—I don’t need you telling me what to do now! You’ve always been do-nowrong-Christine. You’ve never needed money. Everything in your life is perfect. Well, some of us have to work a little harder at perfection!” Chrissy pushed Jack out of the way. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Slade. You know my life hasn’t been perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Far from it!” “I know you have issues with fighting, Chris. I get it. But I’m not Brian. Stop comparing me to him.” Slade stormed off, slamming the door. Chrissy followed. “Brian?” Jack whispered to himself. He contemplated whether to follow them, but decided against it. They needed alone time to figure out their issues. Not such a pleasant dinner. Jack finished his meal and cleaned up. The food had been the best he’d had in a long time—well, since the lasagna the other day. When he was done, he realized how quiet the house seemed without Chrissy. She was

constantly causing trouble, filling the air with her teasing and laughter, making his house smell either of food or of her delicious soapy scent. A nuisance, really. But he’d never felt lonelier, and she’d only been gone a few minutes. Gracelessly he threw himself on the couch and turned on the television. Lost in the voices coming from the television and Drogo’s snoring from the other side of the couch, he barely heard the knock on the door. He looked at the time; it was close to midnight. Drogo immediately woke up, his tail wagging, and he ran so fast to the door, he slipped on the slick hardwood floor and hit the door with his head. Jack laughed. “Sorry, I don’t feel too bad about that, little dude.” By the dainty knock he knew who it was before he opened the door, though it wasn’t her usually impatient banging. “Hi.” Chrissy stood in front of him. Tears were in her eyes, her golden skin glistened from the Florida humidity and heat, and the hair from her bangs stuck to her forehead. He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. “Hi.” He smiled and stepped aside so she could come in. “Can I stay here?” She had her two bags in her hand. “Of course.” He grabbed her bags and tossed them by the stairs, then led her by the hand to the couch, and they both sat down to watch television. She slowly made

her way closer to him … as did Drogo. It was starting to become clear to Jack that he had competition in the shape of a bug-eyed little dog. “Can you tell me what happened?” he asked. “We just fought some more. He refuses to cancel. I feel so guilty. I owe it to him to support him. But, I don’t want him to get injured. I guess I’m going to another fight.” “I can’t talk you out of it, can I?” Jack asked, already knowing the answer. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t let her go to Slade’s fight. She shook her head. “I know I don’t have siblings, so maybe I’m having issues understanding your guilt.” “It’s a long story.” “I have time.” She shrugged in defeat, and he moved her closer to him. They stared at the television, not really watching, both lost in their own thoughts. He tilted her chin up so he could see her clearly. “Who’s Brian?” She took a deep breath and looked down again. “I haven’t spoken about this since Dad died. I don’t think I want to talk about it.” “Tell me,” he demanded. She snuggled even closer. He didn’t think she would answer since she didn’t speak for an eternity, but he held on to the silence, hoping she would break it.

“Fine.” She moved to the other side of the couch and curled her legs under her. She looked helpless and tiny, not words he would normally use to describe Chrissy. In relation to other women, she really wasn’t that tiny, but in comparison to his large frame and that of her brother’s, she was physically very small. However, she had a larger-than-life personality, feisty as all hell. “Brian is the reason for everything. The reason I left for good. The reason my father died. The reason I feel I owe Slade …” She trailed off. Her expression changed dramatically, hurt written all over her face. “Remember Brian Harris? He used to be on the wrestling team in high school.” “Of course I remember. Until a recent knee injury, he still fought. He was a boxer, not an MMA fighter.” “Really? I didn’t know he was still boxing. Does he still live in town? God, does everyone in this damn town fight?” “Not much else to do, I guess. They breed us in high school, I suppose.” He shrugged. “I know Brian’s parents still live in town, but he doesn’t. I think he lives in Tampa. I heard something about a divorce. Why is he so important?” “Well, I had a huge crush on another guy from the wrestling team, Roger. But he never noticed me. And God knows I tried to get noticed. I was so young and stupid. Veronica and I went to all the wrestling matches and tried to go to all the parties. But I was invisible to

him. So one day I got fed up with trying to get him to notice me, and I stormed out of a party before I started crying. I had gone to the party alone because Veronica had already stopped talking to me. Brian was outside and he saw me. He was so sweet. It was my senior year of high school. He had already graduated, but he was home from college on break and remembered me from always being around the team. Anyway, he saw me and we started talking. He noticed me. He didn’t see me as nerdy or a pest. He saw me as a girl. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, he was so cute, and a college guy. That night he asked me out on a date for the next weekend. I couldn’t wait. I was so excited; it was my first real date. I forgot all about Roger. Well, to make a long story as short as possible, one thing led to another and we began dating. Seriously dating.” “I didn’t know that. Why didn’t I know that?” “No one really knew. Plus I wasn’t speaking with you around this time. The whole Veronica thing, remember?” She looked down at her hands, embarrassed. “Anyway, he went to college in Jacksonville, and I only saw him when he was in town. I didn’t want anyone to know. My dad was always so overprotective. Not to mention Slade. Well, and you. You and Slade were so hard on me, growing up. I didn’t want you guys to stop me this time. So I kept it a secret. Senior year was coming to an end, and I had scholarships from most colleges and universities lined up. I could have had my pick of any

school.” “But you decided on Jacksonville because of Brian,” Jack guessed. Chrissy nodded. “I was so stupid. I followed him. When I got accepted I was ecstatic, and I thought he’d be so happy. No one understood why I’d go to a state school instead of an Ivy League college. I gave a million excuses and reasons, but no one knew about Brian. So I packed up my stuff and moved.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. Jack braced himself. He knew something was coming. Something bad. “Let me tell you, he was not happy to see me. Not even a little bit. But I was young and naïve. I didn’t read the writing on the wall. I thought I was imagining things. How could he not be happy? I mean, we had been together for over six months and every time we saw each other it was … perfect. Well, that’s what I saw in the pretend world I had created in my mind. We argued a lot. He was always too busy with the college wrestling team to spend time with me. Then he got into boxing, and if it wasn’t wrestling, it was boxing. He changed a lot when he began boxing. He got more confident and aggressive. The guys he was friends with were jerks, and every time he went out with them, he came back drunk and obnoxious. I lived in the dorms and wasn’t allowed visitors after midnight, but he’d come by in the middle of the night knocking frantically to see me, and when I

wouldn’t let him in, he’d get angry. And by angry, I mean ragingly pissed off. Then he wouldn’t speak to me for days. It was a bad time in my life. My grades suffered. I’d never missed my mother as much as I did during that year. I needed her. I needed to speak with her. I needed guidance or something.” “And no one knew what was going on?” Jack asked. She shook her head. “No. No one knew.” Her eyes watered. “Finish the story, Chris.” Though his tone was soft, his mouth was set in a harsh line and his nostrils were flared. “The first time he hit me was on a Monday on my way to class,” she said. But before she could go on, she noticed that Jack’s hands were in fists on his lap. She touched his hands gently. “Jack, it’s okay.” “It is not okay! And, don’t comfort me. Just finish the damn story.” “As I was saying, I was walking to class, and I saw him by his car with a group of his new friends and some girls. One of the guys must have seen me and called my name. Brian was a super-jealous guy and never liked me talking to his friends. So he didn’t like that the guy called me over, even though it was to where they all stood. He accused me of flirting with his friend, and then he accused me of being with someone the previous night and that was the reason I didn’t let him up to my room. He called me a whore and a tease. It was so ridiculous. I

had only been with him. I tried explaining that I couldn’t get caught sneaking a guy into my room and risk my scholarship. He was pulling me back to my dorm as we fought. When we got to my room he opened the door and pushed me inside. I was so shocked, I pushed him back. Hard. He didn’t see it coming and tripped over my desk.” “Good girl,” he said, pride in his eyes. “No, Jack. It wasn’t good. That set him off, and he slapped me across the face. I think he even shocked himself, because he left. I didn’t see him for a week. He left me hundreds of messages apologizing. After a week, I convinced myself it was my fault for pushing him, and I took him back. “The next eight months were hell. We fought all the time, and he pushed me and slapped me around. Finally one day he went too far.” Her lips quivered and her hands shook. She couldn’t seem to keep the tears at bay any longer. “I don’t want to get into details about it, but I drove home in the middle of the night with a black eye, a swollen lip, and a broken arm in a cast.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she struggled to get the words out. “When I got home I told my father everything. He was so enraged, he reacted the only way he knew. He didn’t try to comfort me or anything. Instead, he got into the car to go straight to Jacksonville to confront Brian. Thank God Slade was not home. He was at a fight

somewhere up north. Georgia, I think. It may have been his first professional fight. In fact, I think you were with him. Anyway, I begged and pleaded with Dad not to go. I promised him I’d transfer to Miami for school and stay away from Brian, and that seemed to placate him a little, but he was blinded by anger. I guess we know where Slade gets those bouts of temper.” She let out a little laugh, but it was unconvincing. The tears were flowing freely now. “He got into the car and peeled out of the driveway. I knew it wouldn’t end well. Jack, I knew it. Somewhere inside, I knew that would be the last time I ever saw my father.” She sobbed into Jack’s chest. “Fuck, Chris. Is that the night that he …?” She nodded into his chest. “Yep. Not even twenty minutes later, he was dead. Dad ignored a stop sign, and an eighteen-wheeler rammed into him. He died instantly.” “Shit. I remember when Slade got your call and we took the first flight out. And I remember seeing you that day. Your arm in a cast, your face banged up. Slade said something about a fall, I think. God, everything that happened that week is such a blur. Slade went on a drinking binge. He wanted to feel numb and kept downing tequila. I remember having the worst hangover at the funeral. I wanted to be there for you two, so I refused to drink with Slade that day. But Slade … he wouldn’t stop. I don’t even remember seeing you at the funeral—I was in so much pain, and I kept having to

wrestle the alcohol out of your brother’s hand.” “I hadn’t even been gone for a year, and I fucked up our lives. Slade blames me for everything. And he’s right. I should’ve known my father would’ve gone after Brian.” She stopped talking for a moment. Jack didn’t know what to say, how to comfort her. It surprised him how much it hurt him to see her so broken and how oblivious he had been back then. “It was all my fault, Jack. I shouldn’t have followed Brian to school. I shouldn’t have come down to tell my dad about my problems. There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have done.” “Chrissy, it’s not your fault. It’s that asshole’s fault.” She continued talking, ignoring his comforting words. “As an educated, rational woman, I know you’re right. But I can’t help the way I feel. I just can’t. That day, my first thought was Slade. When he came down and saw my face and my arm in a cast, I told him the whole story. He didn’t say much, but I knew he was mad at me. I knew that deep down he blamed me. Then at the funeral it finally all came out. With tears in his eyes, he told me how it was all my fault, which it was. His words will forever be embedded in my brain. He said that I should’ve known Dad would run out and try to find Brian. He said that if I hadn’t been so selfish, our father would still be alive. I was devastated over the loss of my dad, physically injured from Brian, and then Slade’s comment … it was all just too much. I stayed for a few

days until I was able to transfer to Miami. I lost some of my scholarship. I never went back to Jacksonville, didn’t even bother to go back and get my shit. I know my brother has never forgiven me. I made him promise not to tell anyone. I already had to live with the guilt of what happened, and I didn’t want anyone’s pity. I was ashamed. I also made him promise not to track down Brian. He reluctantly agreed. I think he was overwhelmed by everything that happened. So I left him the house before I went to Miami. It was the least I could do.” “God, Chris—I’m sorry, I mean Chrissy.” She waved her hand around. “Chris is fine. I’ve gotten used to it. I don’t mind it.” “I’m so sorry. I wish I’d known. Slade never told me. He should’ve told me. If I ever see that fucker Brian around, I’ll kill him.” “Then I’m glad he doesn’t live in town.” “Did you ever report him to the police?” “I wanted to, but I couldn’t. My dad had just died and then I lost my brother, all within a span of a few days. I was destroyed. I couldn’t mentally deal with all of it. I just wanted to leave it all behind, and I somehow convinced myself that starting again somewhere else would make it all better.” “You were all alone, Chris. No one to talk to. No mom, no dad, no Veronica, not even your brother. You could’ve told me, you know? We were somewhat close. I

mean, we’ve known each other our entire lives.” “I suppose. I don’t know. I thought about it. But, I was embarrassed. How had I let myself become a victim? I was always smart, and I thought I was strong. I mean, I grew up following the two of you around. How could I have let a stupid boy ruin my life? And then I blamed myself for my dad’s death and the hurt I’d caused my brother. I guess I didn’t really want to talk about it with anyone. You always pushed me away, and besides, I was still so angry with you. I hate to admit it, but I did have a little crush on you back then, and it wasn’t just that Veronica stopped speaking to me—it hurt that I thought you slept with her, yet you didn’t see me. Really see me. I was an annoyance to you. A bratty little nuisance.” “I always saw you, Chrissy. Maybe not the same way you saw me, and most certainly not the way I see you now, but you weren’t just an annoyance. I would’ve killed him. That’s how I would’ve reacted. But, Chris, I don’t think Slade thinks it’s your fault. I think you have this guilt hanging over you unnecessarily.” “How could you say that? It is my fault. It’s all my fault. Bailing Slade out of jail, lending him money, giving him a house—it’s nothing. It doesn’t bring my dad back. I killed my dad, Jack. Don’t you see?” “Oh, baby.” He reached over and hauled her into his chest. “You are so wrong. It’s not your fault. You were the victim. You can’t live your life with that guilt. It’ll kill you.”

“So now you know why I don’t like all the fighting you guys do. It puts me on edge.” “I’m not Brian. Neither is Slade. Neither of us would ever hit a woman. I’d never hurt you, Chris. You know that, right? Nothing you could ever do would give me reason to hurt you.” She just shrugged. In an attempt to lighten the moment he said with a smile, “You’re so very fucked up. You know that, right? So smart, yet so dumb.” He tapped her head with his finger. “Well, I’m here now. You can count on me.” “Let’s go to bed,” she whispered, running a finger down his cheek. He looked at her, for a moment unsure how to respond. Then he stood up with Chrissy in his arms and carried her with ease up the stairs to his bedroom. Gently he set her on the bed and proceeded to get her naked. Then he walked over to a drawer, pulled out one of his T-shirts, and slipped it on her.

Chapter 9 “What are you doing?” Chrissy asked. “Getting us ready for bed.” “But …” She sat up. “I had other things in mind.” Mission Don’t-Sleep-with-Jack was out the window. Plan aborted. “I don’t want you to get the wrong impression, Chrissy. Trust me when I say that it’s not that I don’t want you. It’s taking all my self-control not to have my way with you right now. But you’ve had a long day. You just divulged a big secret that has been eating at you for eleven years. I don’t want to take advantage.” She covered his mouth with her palm. “Take advantage. Please,” she begged. “You talk too much sometimes.” She replaced her hand with her lips, slowly, gently kissing him. She noticed he was still, as if scared to touch her. If there was one thing she hated—loathed, actually—it was pity. She didn’t want him to pity her. “Jack, I’m glad I told you. I’ve never told anyone else everything. But I can’t stand you looking at me like that. I need this. I need us. Together. Help me forget, Jack. Touch me, and help me forget.” He groaned. “I can’t stand pity. Don’t make me regret telling you. Please.” “Pity? Is that what you think I feel? Quite the opposite. I see a strong woman in front of me.” He

rubbed her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “A loyal, confident, brilliant woman who feels she needs to conquer the world on her own. I feel lust. I feel renewed. But pity? No, definitely not pity.” He twisted his big hand around her hair, pulled her head back. “But I don’t want our first time to be like this. I want to make love to you for hours. Taste you from head to toe, and when you can’t take it anymore, I want to plunge into you. It’s the middle of the night. You’re exhausted and I have a big fight tomorrow. I have to be at the gym in three hours. I’m not rushing this. God, I can’t believe I finally got you on my bed, instead of against a wall or a car, and I’m going to tell you that we can’t make love.” She pouted, and he sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t help you forget.” She cocked her head to the side and looked at him quizzically. He pushed her down, and her head hit the pillow. He grabbed both of her thighs and pulled her forward to the edge of the bed, then dropped to his knees. “Jack?” “So beautiful.” He ran a finger from her navel down to her slick and wet pussy. He lifted her right leg and planted small kisses behind her knee. Then he made his way up her thigh, kissing, licking, nibbling. She bucked wildly. He placed his large hand on her stomach to keep her still as he worked his mouth closer to her sex. When he arrived at her mound, he parted her lips and

ran a finger up and down her slit. Then he slowly slid a finger inside her and began working his magic fingers. He was rewarded with a loud, incoherent moan. When he realized she was about to climax, he placed his mouth on her. The moment he slid a second finger inside her and sucked, she started to come undone. She was so wild and frenzied, he pulled her closer to him and threw her legs over his shoulders to hold her hips down as the most intense orgasm of her life rippled through her body. Jack continued kissing her thighs and reached up to caress her stomach and arms, slowly making his way from the floor to the bed. She was pliant. “Wow. That made me forget everything. Right now I can’t even remember my name.” He laughed. “I aim to please, Chrissy.” He smiled and placed a kiss on her cheek. Her eyes had not reopened, and she was still halfway down the bed. He lifted her up and placed her head on a pillow, then took off his shirt, leaving only his boxers, and climbed into bed with her and brought her close to him. “Sleep, baby. You’re not alone anymore.” She mumbled something inaudible, and they were both asleep in seconds.

The next morning, Chrissy woke up to an empty bed. Her body felt pleasantly sated, but her heart stung. She was nervous that she had just too much baggage for Jack to handle and he’d woken up and run for the hills. Thankfully, that thought quickly evaporated when she saw a note and breakfast waiting for her on the dining table when she shuffled downstairs. Chrissy, I had to go to the gym and train. I’ll see you later. Enjoy breakfast. I’ll be thinking about you. —Jack She heated up the eggs and ate the fresh fruit and coffee he’d left for her, tossing some eggs to Drogo while she munched away. She couldn’t help the silly grin on her face. Though she wasn’t sure how this all would pan out, she was going to enjoy him. He had been there for her, both physically and emotionally, last night. By 4:00 p.m. they were walking into an auditorium a few miles away from town together. They went in through a service entrance by the back, where they were met by other fighters and their small entourages in the locker room. Jack picked a quiet corner away from the rest of the fighters to prepare. A few minutes later, Cain, the quiet man she’d met at the bail hearing a few days earlier, came in. Cain gave Chrissy a brief smile before

giving Jack a few pointers and telling him he’d be back before the match to tape up Jack’s wrists. Just as quickly as he’d come in, he left the room. “Not much of a talker, huh?” Chrissy asked Jack. “Not at all. But he’s a good guy. We’ve trained together for years. My trainer, the owner of WtF Academy, has been having health issues and is retiring soon. He couldn’t come today, so Cain and Slade have been taking over most of the training at the gym. Slade and another guy, Travis, will be here soon.” “Shouldn’t you have one of them here with you?” Chrissy looked around and saw all the other guys with their trainers. “I’ve been doing this forever—I’ve got it covered. Cain’ll come back later with the guys. They’re working with a young fighter from the Academy who is on the same card tonight. This is the guy’s pro debut.” “So just you and me, huh? Should I, like, I don’t know, rub your shoulders, or make you do some jumping jacks, or yell at you for motivation or something?” For the first time all day, Jack smiled. “You can definitely rub my shoulders, but please don’t yell at me, not for motivation or otherwise.” “Ha ha.” “Come, I want to talk to you.” Jack reached for her hand, laced his fingers with hers, and led her to an adjacent room. The room was big but dark and dusty. It

had punching bags, a cage, and a boxing ring. “What is this?” “It’s just an extra cage and some equipment they bring into the auditorium when there are other fights. If this were a boxing match, they’d bring out the boxing ring. It’s like a storage room.” “Wow. I’ve never actually been this close to the cage. It’s big. Looks kind of scary. Do they lock you in?” “Yeah.” She walked closer and grabbed the chain-link fence around the ring. “Looks scary.” “Not as scary as I will be if you don’t stay outta trouble tonight.” Chrissy snapped her head back and looked at Jack. There was no sense of humor in his gaze, only seriousness and intensity. “You’re going to watch me from right outside the cage, okay?” They were not in the same seedy warehouse they’d been in the last time. Outside the storage room they were in was a small auditorium with lights and security. There were women, men, and children. An assortment of judges and state officials sat at a long table, paramedics stood to the side, and several referees were in or around the steel cage. “Why can’t I just buy a ticket and sit in the stands?” she whined. “Because I want you where I can keep an eye on you. You get into a lot of trouble when you’re left alone.” She shook her head in disbelief. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do. Damn it, don’t argue with me. I don’t have time.” Jack was a conundrum, she thought. There was gentle, loving, attentive Jack. The one who protected her, cared for her, wanted to take his time having sex with her. Then there was Jack the caveman. The one who spoke dirty things to her, the one who fucked her against walls. Scratch that—not fuck, because they hadn’t gotten that far yet, but mauled. The one who mauled her and made her come senselessly against walls. The one who commanded her. The one who dominated her. The one who made her go weak in the knees. She was an intelligent and independent woman, and caveman Jack should repulse her. But herein lay the problem: caveman Jack was her favorite Jack. She didn’t know when she’d become the subservient damsel in distress, but she loved this side of him. Archaic as it might be, it made her hot. Every time he scolded her or ordered her around, yes, she fought it, pouted, talked back, but secretly she wanted him to rip off her clothes and take her right then and there. And at that moment, with him shirtless and being all authoritative, she secretly pleaded with him to do just that. What the hell is that all about? Maybe it’s time to see a therapist! “Fine, Jack Daniels. I’ll stay put.” But her tongue involuntarily darted out of her mouth and moistened her

top lip. “And you brought me into this room because …?” “I knew you’d give me lip.” He inched toward her. “I knew you’d argue or find a way to contradict me.” She swallowed but her mouth was suddenly dry and her heart was pounding. He groaned and stalked her toward the cage. “Do not provoke me, Chris. I need to focus. I’ve been training for months.” Is it getting hot or what? She lifted an eyebrow. “Sorry, Daniels.” He groaned again. She could see the pulsating vein on his neck and knew that the adrenaline in his body was surging, and not just from the upcoming fight. They were in a darkened storage room, less than an hour before Jack was to fight; the noise from the cheering crowd watching the fight currently taking place was deafening. “Don’t fuck with me, Chrissy.” Oh, please fuck with me, she silently pleaded. “I’m not,” she lied. She looked up at him innocently. But her breathing was a little ragged, and he could see the swells of her breasts moving up and down as he pushed up against her. “You know I don’t like it when you call me Daniels. You know you’re trying to fuck with me. Don’t act coy. You are purposely pushing my buttons.” With her back against the cage, he reached down and grabbed her right leg and wrapped it around his hip, his other arm above

her, holding the chain-link fence. She whimpered; his erection was so close to her eager sex that had she not been wearing panties, he’d practically be inside her already. “I asked you to dress appropriately. Why would you wear a short skirt? Thank God you’re at least wearing a bra today.” “Last time I wore jeans, and you didn’t like it. This time I wore a skirt, because it’s hot as hell outside, and it’s not inappropriate. I’m starting to think nothing I wear is appropriate in your mind. What the hell do you want? For me to come naked?” “Naked? No, Chris. Naked would most certainly be inappropriate. Covered head to toe in a burka was more along the lines of what I was thinking.” Her body slowly began pressing closer to his. His mouth was by her neck and she could feel his warm breath. Without any fanfare he slid her panties to the side and slipped a finger in her. If this is his idea of punishment, I’ll take it any day! Her eyes hazed over and she almost melted. The crowd continued yelling and cheering while his fingers moved in and out of her. It felt weird, because she wasn’t an exhibitionist, but the roaring crowd a few feet away made it that much more exhilarating. The more noise she heard from the other side of the door, the more aroused she became. “I told you to stop goading me. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” She reached between them and pulled down the

waistband of his shorts. His arousal sprang free. If his dick could speak, it would’ve thanked her—it had obviously been suffering in the tight confines of his attire. She grasped it and positioned it against her slickness. At that point she was so turned on she would’ve let him have his way with her in the middle of the auditorium with everyone watching. “You sure about this, Chrissy? There’s no going back after I put my cock in you. Things will change.” Her back was completely pushed up against the cage and the cold metal rubbed against her back. “I don’t know what that means, but yes, Jack. Yes. Oh, Jack.” His wet finger was still inside her. Her hand remained on him, moving back and forth with the tip against her wetness, but he wouldn’t let her put him in her. His fingers continued working her. He slipped a second finger inside her while the palm of his hand rubbed against her clitoris. He covered her moans with his mouth. “Jack!” A deep guttural groan came out of him. “Come for me. Oh my God, Chrissy, sweet, delicious Chrissy …” She kept pumping him back and forth and they came together in an intense, forget-where-you-are kind of explosion. After a long moment, when she caught her breath, she slid her leg down and straightened her skirt. He tucked himself back into his shorts. “I can’t believe we just did that.” She put her head against his chest and looked

down, mortified. “I know. I haven’t been jerked off like that since high school. Holy shit, that was good. How am I going to fight now?” He laughed. “Why didn’t you …” “Fuck you? Why didn’t I fuck you?” She nodded. “If I didn’t fuck you last night in my bed, I’m not going to fuck you in the backroom of an auditorium, against a cage, where someone could’ve walked in on us. I told you, when we finally do get together, I’m going to need the entire night. “Come on, I’m sure the fight’s almost over, and I think I’m next. Cain’s probably looking for me. The restrooms are just outside the door. I need to clean up a little.” “Yeah, me too,” Chrissy said. Jack led her out of the storage room and to the restrooms, where they freshened up and regrouped. Jack was outside the women’s bathroom when Chrissy stepped out. “Cain’s waiting for me. Come on.” She nodded and followed behind him. In the locker room, Cain was now talking to Slade and a few other men. “Whoa! Who’s that?” A lean, slightly familiar blond guy, about the same height as Jack, wearing jeans and a black ribbed tank top and a cowboy hat, turned toward Chrissy. “Howdy, ma’am. You need some help or—” Jack glared at the man, but before he had a chance to

say something Slade interrupted. “Calm those hormones, Texas. This is my sister, Chrissy. Chrissy, this is Travis. He trains with us.” “ ‘Ma’am’? I’m pretty sure we’re more or less the same age,” Chrissy said with a laugh. “Wait, I know you. You’re Jamie Lynn’s twin brother, aren’t you? You moved to town senior year of high school. We had algebra together.” “That’s right! How could I forget such a pretty face? And, by the way, a southern gentleman always addresses a lady as ‘ma’am,’ sugar.” He tipped his hat. “You probably don’t remember her, ’cause she was a nerd who had her head in the books back then.” Slade laughed. Chrissy rolled her eyes. Then Slade turned to Cain. “And this here is Cain. He also—” “We’ve met,” Cain said in his low voice. Travis reached for Chrissy’s hand, tilted his hat, and kissed her hand. Chrissy giggled. Jack stiffened. Slade laughed. “Hey, what’s with the lines on the back of your arm?” Travis asked. Chrissy reached for her arm and felt the marks from the cage, and her cheeks flamed. Cain gave Chrissy an agitated look before reaching for Jack’s shoulders and pushing him down on a nearby bench. He dragged a chair toward Jack and sat down. He then took Jack’s hands and began taping them up. Chrissy watched the process curiously. Travis walked over and threw an arm around her

shoulder; he held an apple in the other hand and took a bite. “You see, baby? Those hands are deadly.” Oh, boy, do I know about Jack’s hands. “And the taping needs to be nice and tight to protect his wrists and knuckles.” “Dude, you mind?” Jack snarled at Travis. Travis looked sideways at Chrissy; his face was just inches from hers. “Yeah, guess it’s not such a good idea to be hitting on Slade’s baby sister.” He took another bite of his apple. “Unless, of course, you want to be hit on.” He winked before removing his arm. She giggled again. His southern charm was disarming. Slade was saying something to Jack as Cain continued to wrap Jack’s hands. Then he reached for Jack’s shoulders and massaged them a few times as Jack moved his neck from side to side. Chrissy was enthralled by the entire process. When Cain finished, Jack stood, then jumped up and down repeatedly as Slade continued to talk to him. With the noise from the outside and the other fighters in the locker room, Chrissy couldn’t make out exactly what Slade was saying. “Aren’t you going to get tired with all that jumping up and down?” Chrissy asked. “He’s warming up,” Slade said. “He can’t go in there cold; he needs to break a sweat. His muscles need to be loose and warmed up.” “I guess it makes sense. From a medical standpoint, it’s a good idea to stretch and warm up.” “Yeah, baby. You see, there are certain rules when it

comes to fighting,” Travis said. He was standing close to her again, and every time he spoke to her, especially when he called her “baby,” she noticed Jack’s jaw twitch. “You load up on carbs the night before. You drink lots of water and eat healthy the day of the fight, and you avoid sex.” Chrissy’s cheeks flushed. “And what happens if you break any of those rules?” Jack had a mischievous grin on his face as Travis answered, “Well, sugar, you could lose the fight. You could throw up, cramp up. Who knows?” Slade looked at Jack, then Chrissy. “Oh, no. Please don’t say it. Don’t tell me. You ate right before coming here, didn’t you? Fuck, Chrissy, did you bring him a burger with fries or something? Please don’t tell me you gave him soda.” “No! What? No.” She was flustered—and not a little surprised that her brother was so oblivious that he would think that she’d bring Jack the wrong kind of food instead of having almost-sex with him. But it was probably for the best, she figured. “Hey, I want her to sit with the guys, okay?” Jack told Slade. “Yeah, good idea,” Slade replied. “She’s likely to get herself in trouble if we let her loose. I’ll show her where when we walk out.” “My thoughts exactly.” “I’m standing right here,” Chrissy pointed out sulkily.

“I can watch her.” Travis waggled his eyebrows. Both Slade and Jack yelled, “No!” at the same time. Cain smiled, which caught Chrissy off guard. The guy had a beautiful smile; he should smile more often, she thought. Travis held out his hands in surrender. She heard the emcee call “Jack the Ripper” as they made their way out of the locker room area. She snorted. “And you thought Jack Daniels was silly?” she teased him. He rolled his eyes. “You don’t learn your lesson easily, do you?” “I’m trying to rile you up so you’re ready to fight.” “You’re doing a great job.” Chrissy followed close behind him as he started making his way to the center of the auditorium. Travis, Slade, and Cain followed. When he was close to the cage he heard her mumble, “Who’d have thought I’d love cage sex this much?” He leaned toward her and whispered into her ear, “Babe, we haven’t even had sex yet. That was foreplay. When we finally have sex, it’ll be on my bed first, then my table, on the floor, and yes, if you want to, against every wall of my house. And trust me, you won’t care if the entire neighborhood hears you scream my name.” He kissed her cheek and nodded to Slade, who took her hand and led her to a row of seats a few feet away from the cage. Jack stepped up to the cage, with Cain following closely behind. They walked up to the referee.

She sat down, still shuddering at his words—those sexy dirty words—that had come from his lips. Even that innocent peck on the cheek had made her knees weak and her mind fuzzy. The rounded chain-link steel cage, raised as if it were an altar, looked menacing. The referee checked Jack’s wrapped hands and gave him the okay; then Slade helped Jack put on his gloves, patted him down, and whispered a few things to him. Finally Jack walked through the chain-link door of the cage, which locked behind him with a loud bang that echoed throughout the auditorium. Oh, my! She had been so heady with the storage room romp and the last words Jack had said to her that she hadn’t noticed the huge man in black shorts already standing inside. The man, who Chrissy quickly learned from the crowd’s cheers was named Marcus, jumped up and down while moving his neck side to side. The referee called the fighters to the center of the ring. Both men stalked forward, their eyes locked in a death stare, their chests moving in and out in shallow breaths. Marcus’s blue mouthpiece showed through his snarl, and Jack’s nostrils flared. The two-second stare-down made the men look like savages, and Chrissy couldn’t help but shiver. Then the referee said, “Fight,” and the two men touched gloves and backed away. The fight had begun. Slade, Cain, and Travis stood close to the ring, in what

Chrissy assumed was Jack’s corner. Slade seemed to be in charge, because he was yelling things to Jack. The two men circled each other, neither throwing a punch. It looked like a dance. One would extend his arm as if measuring the length of the throw, then pull back. The other would do the same. All the while they circled the ring, their eyes connected to each other’s. The crowd cheered. Chrissy’s leg bounced up and down, and she was chewing on a fingernail. After what seemed like an eternity but was really only about thirty seconds, Jack’s opponent threw a punch with his right hand. Jack quickly leaned back, ducked down, and threw an uppercut, which landed on his opponent’s ribs. Chrissy knew it had landed perfectly by the cheer of the crowd and the pain in Marcus’s face. But the man recovered quickly, and apparently the punch had angered him because he threw another punch, this time with his right hand, and it connected with Jack’s eye. Chrissy gasped and stood up. The crowd went crazy, and Slade yelled into the cage. In the split second it took Jack to recover from the blow, Marcus charged at Jack, but Jack quickly lifted up his knee, which hit the man in the face. The man fell back, and blood spurted everywhere. Chrissy recoiled in alarm. The referee went to Marcus, who was lying on the floor. Travis, Cain, and Slade were talking among themselves, and then Slade yelled something to Jack, who nodded even though he wasn’t looking at Slade. Marcus got up, his nose bleeding, and the referee

stepped aside so that the bout could continue. The moment the referee moved, Jack landed a punch to Marcus’s face and the bell rang. Just five minutes, and there was blood everywhere. Five minutes was the length of the rounds, and there were three of them. Chrissy felt nauseous. When the men retreated to their respective corners, Slade and Cain went into the cage to tend to Jack. Chrissy ran up to the cage and held on to the fence as she spoke. “Can I go in? He needs a doctor,” she yelled to her brother. “This isn’t an ER, Chris. We got this,” Slade said brusquely. “But—” “We only have one minute, damn it. Go sit down. Now,” Jack said without looking back at her. She jolted at his tone. His voice, the blood, the violence—the whole thing was bringing back memories she had spent years avoiding. She stepped down but didn’t immediately go back to her seat, instead trying to see what was happening. Cain applied something to Jack’s face that she deduced was petroleum jelly from the shine and texture. He then pressed an enswell under his eye. The cold metal instrument would help the swelling. It wasn’t the best first aid she’d seen, but it wasn’t bad. Meanwhile, Slade continued to give instructions to Jack while squeezing his biceps and shoulders. The two men left the cage a

second before the bell rang again. Jack was on his toes, seemingly faster and definitely angrier. The same was true for Marcus. It was as if the first round had been a test round, because there was a new resolve on both men’s faces. This time it was Jack who threw the first punch. He missed. It was back and forth for about a minute, neither man landing a punch. Finally Marcus charged Jack. It looked like a rhino charging another rhino. This time Jack hesitated and wasn’t able to connect his knee to Marcus’s face, so Marcus got his arms wrapped around Jack’s body. Marcus lifted Jack in an attempt to throw him to the floor, but with the sweat and blood coating the mat, Marcus’s foot slipped and he fell to one knee, losing his balance. Jack, who seemed to be getting crushed by Marcus’s tight squeeze around his torso, took the opportunity to push back and untangle himself from Marcus, then landed an elbow in the other fighter’s face. Marcus went down flat on his back, and Jack used the walls of the cage as leverage to pin Marcus down and swing his fists left, right, left, right onto Marcus’s gut and face. The crowd roared. Chrissy’s heart raced. Marcus tried to shield his face with his hands, but most of the hits landed and it was a mess of blood and sweat. Jack looked feral; Chrissy had never seen him look more intimidating. The men in Marcus’s corner yelled for him to get up, but as Jack continued to pummel his opponent, the crowd became louder and electric. Then

the referee dove in between the two fighters, using his own body as a shield, to stop the fight. Travis, Cain, and Slade cheered, and Jack pumped his fists up in the air. His eye was swollen, and blood stained his body. Chrissy wasn’t sure whose blood it was, Marcus’s or his own. Marcus remained on the floor as the ringside paramedics examined him. When he finally stood, the man looked deformed. Both eyes were swollen shut, he had cuts and swelling all over his face, and he held an arm around his waist—probably a broken rib, Chrissy thought. When the referee took both men’s wrists and lifted Jack’s arm, indicating a victory by technical knockout, the crowd went crazy, and so did Jack and his small entourage. Chrissy’s hands shook. The fierce intensity of the fight, coupled with the exuberance Jack displayed, terrified her. She found the chair she was supposed to be sitting in, and collapsed into it, her body and mind unable to process the totality of the event. She had spent years trying to put Brian and the time of abuse out of her mind, and in less than ten minutes it had all resurfaced. She felt physically ill. Jack had won, but she didn’t care. By the time she looked up, the rest of the guys had left, Cain had wiped off most of the blood on Jack’s face, and Jack had slipped into a black T-shirt with the name of the Academy emblazed on it. He hopped down from the ring, and as soon as his feet hit the floor, he rushed to Chrissy, grabbed her by the waist, and swung her

around. She could tell he was pumped full of adrenaline. “You did great, Jack.” “Why do you look like someone killed your puppy?” he asked as they walked hand in hand to the locker room so he could shower and change. “Sorry, it was a little nerve-racking. The cage, the fighting, the blood … the whole thing. Not only are you the town hero because you’re a cop, but you proved tonight you had the biggest dick in Tarpon Springs by beating the shit out of that guy. Good job.” She couldn’t help the sarcasm; it just slipped out. But Jack, still revved up, seemed oblivious. Seeing him so violent scared her. She’d never thought Brian would hurt her, and yet he’d beaten her to the point of unconsciousness. Clearly she was a terrible judge of character. She wanted to trust Jack, but, seeing him fight had been a mistake. She didn’t want to rain on his parade, though, so she mustered up the biggest, fakest smile she could manage and said, “Go, take a shower. Then we’ll go celebrate.” As they drove to the Pier, Jack took call after call from his friends congratulating him. She could tell he was over the moon. But her mind kept wandering to how violent that fight had been and how much he’d seemed to enjoy it. When they got out of his car, she tried to examine his swollen eye, but he just shooed away her concern and then led her inside the bar. He ordered a pitcher of beer

and was quickly engulfed by half the town, greeting him with questions and congratulations. About an hour later, Slade strolled in to join the gathering. Shortly afterward, Jack’s phone rang, and he excused himself to take the call outside. While he was gone, the bartender, a pretty girl Chrissy’s age with short spiked hair that had red and purple streaks, walked over to take Slade’s drink order. But before Chrissy or Slade could say a word, the girl cocked her head and gazed at Chrissy. “Is that you, Chrissy Martin?” “Oh, my! Jamie Lynn?” “Yes. Wow. It’s been ages. I think I haven’t seen you since high school graduation. I heard you were in town.” “Word really spreads quickly here, doesn’t it?” “It sure does.” “What a small world. I saw your brother Travis just a little while ago.” “I’m guessing at the fight,” she stated, and Chrissy nodded. “Hey, Slade. How you doing, sugar?” Jamie Lynn said. “I’m doing good, JL. Hey, cool tat.” He pointed to an intricate tattoo on her forearm. “Thanks, Slay. Whatcha drinking?” “Just water.” Chrissy looked at him questioningly, but Jamie Lynn said simply, “Sure thing, sugar.” As she worked behind the bar she said to Chrissy, “So, how long you in town

for?” “Just a few days,” Chrissy answered. “You’ll probably see Travis around. He’s working down the street at the diner for a few weeks.” “Oh, cool. I was just there a few days ago.” “You should stop by and say hello to him. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.” She leaned closer to her and whispered, “You know, he always did have a crush on you.” “Oh … well, that’s flattering. But I won’t be around much longer.” “Come on, you can certainly take a minute to say hello. That’s innocent enough, right?” “Uh … yeah. I guess so.” “Travis is a good guy, but he’s not your type,” Slade interjected as he looked at his watch. He seemed a little tense, which was very unlike him. Jack walked back in. “That was the chief. It looks like we may be able to get your charges dropped if your girlfriend will testify as to what transpired. Apparently this isn’t Dennis’s first run-in with the law. The chief is tired of covering for him, even if he is the mayor’s nephew,” Jack said, taking a big swig of beer. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. Thanks, Jack.” Chrissy gave him a smile. Slade, however, didn’t look as confident or as happy. “What’s your problem?” Jack asked. “They’re back together.” When Jack and Chrissy

looked confused, he added, “Dennis and Jessica—they’re back together. I don’t know if she’ll come forward and help me out.” “Fuck,” Jack and Chrissy both drawled at the same time. “I’ll talk to her later today,” Slade said. He looked at his watch again, and she could have sworn he gave Jack a significant look. She shook her head; perhaps she’d imagined it. “Actually, maybe I’ll leave now to go find her,” he said. “Okay. See you tomorrow, or if not, then at your fight. I’m so worried and I’m not condoning it, but I’ll be there,” Chrissy said as she waved goodbye. Slade nodded, glanced at Jack again, and then left. Lost in her own thoughts, Chrissy moved the food around her plate, unable to eat. She listened to the conversation between Jack and some of the other patrons at the bar. “Good left hook … that knee to his midsection was great … broken nose … awesome liver shot …” They went on and on, detailing all the intricacies of the fight. She couldn’t fathom how they could talk about it for so long or so casually. The car ride back to Jack’s after dinner was relatively quiet. “How’s your wound? Did you get hurt anywhere else?” Chrissy asked. “I feel great, baby.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. The entire drive back, he caressed the top of her hand with his thumb.

Still feeling uncomfortable about the fight, Chrissy thought she would go to Slade’s instead of Jack’s, but he was so happy, she just couldn’t bring herself to do that to him. She knew it would cause an argument, and she didn’t want to bring him down, nor did she have the energy to argue. Before the front door had fully closed, Jack already had Chrissy in his arms and was heading toward his bedroom. Drogo must have heard them walk in, because he lazily got up, stretched, yawned, and followed them upstairs. “No, stay,” Jack snapped at Drogo, but the pup ignored his command and kept walking. Chrissy pointed down at Drogo and repeated exactly the same thing Jack had just said, and he stayed. “Traitor,” Jack whispered, but he soon lost interest in the dog and turned all his attention to Chrissy. “I finally have you all night and day,” he told her, waggling his eyebrows. “You don’t work tomorrow?” “Nope. I have you all day tomorrow. And I also have a bed instead of a wall. Looks like all the stars are finally aligning for us.” “And your eye? It looks a little better. Does it hurt?” She reached up to touch it. “I feel completely fine, Chrissy. Stop worrying.” She smiled, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Her mind was all over the place. It didn’t seem like Jack

wanted a one-night thing. In truth, she had realized that it had stopped being just about sexual desire a while ago. They had history and a connection that went beyond sex, yet she couldn’t help but think that they were doomed to fail. The problem was that after seeing him tonight, a small part of her was afraid of him— physically afraid of him. It wasn’t the dominating sexual way he spoke to her; she actually really liked that. It was the fighting. She just couldn’t seem to get past that, and she couldn’t help comparing him to Brian. But then he kissed her hungrily, and that sent her mind spinning. Last night he’d given her the pleasure she needed. He’d helped her forget her past, even if only for the night. Today she would give him what he needed. Her affection. Her body. Help him celebrate his victory. Jack had no idea of all the turmoil going on in her mind at the moment, nor did she want to hurt him by telling him. She closed her eyes and let his magical hands consume her and help her forget. Tomorrow? Tomorrow she would face her fears. “I lied to you,” he said. His kiss was deep and intense. “About?” she managed to respond. “I wanted our first time to be beautiful and meaningful. I wanted to make love to you slowly. But I can’t wait, Chrissy. It feels like it’s been years in the making and I have to be inside you right now.” In less than a minute he was naked. And wow, what a gloriously beautiful man he was. She realized at that

moment that turning off the side of her brain that controlled rational thinking and turning on the part that just allowed her to feel was the right decision. Because feeling was good. Very good. “You’re beautiful.” It slipped from her mouth— probably because of the Off button on the rational side of her brain. She hadn’t meant to say it. Her eyes trailed from his thick neck down his massive chest to his huge and growing erection. He threw his head back and laughed. “You look like a kid in a candy shop.” She licked her lips and giggled. He lunged toward her and lifted her to her feet. He was so strong, and he handled her like a rag doll, positioning her how he wanted. She happily obliged. Jack pulled her shirt over her head, undid her bra, and threw it on the mounting pile of clothes on the floor. He unzipped her skirt, and in a flash it was pooled at her ankles. He slid her glasses off her face and carefully placed them on the dresser. He picked her up effortlessly and moved her aside so that the skirt was no longer at her feet. She had to stifle a laugh. Chrissy couldn’t help picturing him pounding on his chest and saying, Me Tarzan, you Jane. He didn’t bother communicating. He didn’t bother giving her a hand to help her out of her skirt. He just carried her and moved her around like she didn’t weigh a thing, and right now he obviously wanted her naked and couldn’t be bothered to ask her to take off her clothes. She’d be

lying if she didn’t say she loved it. She’d gladly change her name to Jane, Queen of the Jungle, if it got her closer to the pleasure his hungry eyes were promising. When she stood in front of him completely naked except for the tiniest, almost nonexistent black lace panties, he groaned. “Fucking stunning.” To her complete surprise, he used both of his hands and ripped, literally ripped, the material that held her panties together on one side. Then he went to the other hip and did the same thing. She gasped. She’d never seen him so frenzied. Control and authority clung to him, except when she was involved. Chrissy secretly rejoiced that she was able to snap his control. She was standing in Jack’s room naked. Jack Daniels, her brother’s best friend with the goofy name he hated. The guy next door whom she’d known since she was two years old. The kid who had placed a No Girls Allowed sign on the tree house in his backyard when he was twelve, for the sole purpose of keeping Chris the Priss out. The jackass who had tormented her day and night. The guy who she’d mistakenly thought, for years upon years, had chosen her best friend over her. And there she was: buck-ass naked. Holy fuck! For a moment Jack stood looking at her, eyes glazed over with hunger. Silently, looking like a predator, he stepped forward. His fighting and her fears of violent

men still nagged at her, but she pushed those thoughts to the back of the sexually-unfulfilled-for-way-too-long part of her brain, for further examination at a later time. A time when this beautiful naked man with the lust-filled eyes was not standing in front of her. With one of his bare feet he forced her feet apart so that she stood exposed to him with her legs shoulder width apart. The rate of her breathing increased. He took another step closer, fisted her hair, pulled her head back, and landed his mouth on hers for the most erotic kiss of her life. She felt completely helpless. With the other hand, he reached down and began to rub her, while she stood completely naked in the middle of his room. “Thank God you’re already so wet for me, because I can’t wait much longer.” Her head was still thrown back, so she couldn’t nod; instead she let out an involuntary whimper. Without breaking the kiss, he walked her backward until the backs of her knees hit the bed. Roughly he pushed her onto it. “Are you on the pill, Chrissy?” God, he was so brazen! No beating around the bush with this man. She nodded. “I’m clean. I get checked out before every fight.” “Me too. Well, not before the fight, ’cause I don’t fight. I’ve been checked out because of traveling for work and …” She was rambling nervously. He laughed in understanding. “Good, because I don’t

want any barriers between us.” Without any further hesitation he knelt on the bed and spread her legs apart with his knees as he lay on top of her, his forearms on either side of her head to support his weight. Slowly, ever so slowly, he glided inside her. “You okay, baby?” he asked. She nodded, and he went even deeper. She moaned. “Still with me?” he asked. “Jack,” she pleaded. “What do you want? Tell me.” She sat up slightly, on her elbows, and looked him in the eyes. “Fuck me right now, Daniels. Right now!” He groaned again, and in one single movement pulled out and thrust back in, hard. She drew a sharp intake of breath and moaned in pleasure. “Again, Jack. Again.” A tidal wave of pleasure enveloped her. He grabbed one of her thighs and positioned it above his shoulder, plunging into her again, angling himself perfectly. This time his thrust moved him even deeper. He placed her leg on his shoulder and let go, in order to free up his hand. “Keep your leg here.” Jack reached between their bodies and began rubbing her with his thumb as he thrust in and out. “But don’t come yet, Chrissy. Not yet.” “Jack! Are you crazy? I can’t stop myself from coming,” she yelled. Her body arched toward him and her head pushed back onto the bed. One, two, three thrusts. When her sex tightened around him, Jack slowed

down his pace a little, probably trying to delay her impending orgasm, but it was too late. Waves of pleasure rippled through her body as she began to contract deep inside. It sent him over the edge. “Chrissy …” One last thrust and her toes curled, her heart stopped beating, and pleasure consumed her as Jack stiffened and exploded inside her.

Chapter 10 Jack had been around the block a time or two. He knew great sex, but this … this was something else. He saw stars, fireworks, and the future all flash before his eyes; he thought his heart would explode. His entire body went limp, causing his forearms to give way, and he collapsed on top of her, resting his forehead against hers as they recovered. Their breathing was ragged—though hers might’ve been partly because he was still on top of her—and they glistened with sweat. When he finally spoke, all he was able to formulate was, “Damn.” Chrissy smiled, her breathing still erratic. “That may be too tame a word for what just happened.” Moments later, he pulled her to her feet. She immediately tried to cover up. “What are you doing?” “It’s just … My God, your body is so perfect. You make me self-conscious,” she admitted. With an amused smile he crossed his arms over his chest, still completely naked, and said, “Seriously? After what we just did? After what we—well, I did the night before, not to mention what we’ve done against many a wall, you’re going to be shy around me?” She shrugged in response. “Trust me, I like what I see. Why do you think I keep coming back for more? You,” he said,

reaching for the arm that she was using to shield her breasts and kissing her palm, “are perfect.” He gave her a thorough and incredibly erotic once-over and then slapped her butt on the way to the bathroom. She squealed. When the temperature of the shower was to his liking, he pulled her in with him. Chrissy reached for the soap and sniffed it. “You always smell of this,” she said. “And since you’re inhaling it, you must like it?” She gave a lazy smile. “Mmm.” Jack took the soap from her hand and started lathering her body. “Turn around,” he ordered. She obeyed. He put one of her hands against the cold white tile of his shower, then the other. He began washing the back of her, starting at her ankles and working his way up. When he reached her midsection, he wrapped his arm around her waist, then roughly lifted her ass up and pushed her back down, so that she was perfectly bent over. “You couldn’t possibly be ready aga—” “The correct question is, are you ready?” he said in a husky voice that was so sensual that, had she not already been willing and eager, hearing his voice would have gotten her instantly ready for anything he had to offer. One finger found its way inside her and then another. When she let out a moan, he slipped his very large and

very erect dick into her. Like in the bed, it wasn’t slow. It was hard and fast and wonderful. Once again they climaxed together. Her legs gave way and they both slid down to the floor of his shower. He held her firmly against his chest and kissed the top of her head and her shoulders as they both tried to steady their breathing. After a moment he stood and finished bathing himself. “Looks like you’re all dirty again,” he said with a wink, and tossed her the soap. He stepped out of the shower and wrapped his bottom half in a towel. Then, when she was done, he gently helped her out and swathed her in a big fluffy towel. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.” “I feel like jelly. My feet don’t seem to be cooperating, and without my glasses I can’t see a thing.” He reached down, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to his bed. “You know, Jack, I’m not that light. Besides, I can walk.” She giggled when he nuzzled her neck with his slightly-overdue-for-a-shave face. “Honey, you weigh next to nothing. If I could, I’d carry you around all day.” She laughed into his neck, and he tossed her onto the bed, making her giggle again. “That is my favorite sound in the entire world,” he said as he settled them under the covers. “What?” she said, still laughing. For the first time in a long time, she looked really happy. “Your laugh. It’s my favorite sound.” She smiled at him. “Scratch that. You screaming my name when you

come is my favorite sound in the world. You laughing and giggling is my second favorite.” She threw a pillow at him, and he lunged toward her, ready to tickle her, but instead pulled her to his chest. “Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.” Her body fit so perfectly against his. He gave her a kiss on the back of her head, and she sighed.

It was almost midday when Chrissy and Jack made their way out of bed. During the night Jack had awoken with Chrissy’s ass wiggling suggestively against his dick, which hardened immediately. He could take a hint. So at some point in the middle of the night, Jack made love to Chrissy again. Slowly. Gently. By the time morning came around they were sated and exhausted. But the exhaustion had been worth it. “You got any plans for today?” asked Chrissy. “Not really. You?” Chrissy shook her head. “How about I fix you breakfast and we have a lazy day? We can even go to the beach.” Chrissy sat up and knelt next to him. “Oh, yes!” she squealed excitedly. “That sounds like a plan. I’ve been eyeing the beach since I arrived. In Miami, the beach is

always so packed. One of the things I miss most about this town and my old house is that I can be at the beach all day and not see one single person the entire time.” “I’m going to start breakfast. You want to use the shower first?” “Sure. Thanks, Jack,” she said with a silly grin from ear to ear. Before he did anything, Jack went next door. He’d been worried about Slade all night. He had tried to sneak in a few calls during the night while Chrissy slept, but Slade didn’t answer. After knocking several times and getting no response, Jack used his spare key to let himself in. Nervously he opened Slade’s bedroom door and was relieved to find him spread out on his bed, one foot dangling off and the other wrapped around his sheets. These Martins certainly know how to take over a bed! Jack quietly approached the bed to make sure that Slade hadn’t gotten himself badly injured. He noticed a swollen eye, the opposite one from the previous fight, and a scratch on his cheekbone. “Fucking idiot,” he whispered before silently walking out of the room. Chrissy’s going to kill him, and when she’s done killing him, she’s going to kill me. Shit. Shit. Shit. Maybe once she understood that it was for her own good, she’d get it. She was a reasonable and rational woman. Right? Nope, she was going to kill him. Back in his own house, he started breakfast, and was almost done cooking when Chrissy came down.

“Smells wonderful.” She got close to Jack and picked a piece of bacon from a plate. She ate half of it and gave the other half to Drogo, who was by her feet. Suddenly she looked a little uncomfortable. “I’m not so good with this kinda thing,” she admitted. “I don’t want to be clingy. Maybe I should go next door and—” “If you think you’re going back to Slade’s while you’re in town, I clearly did a bad job last night.” She giggled. “No. No, you did an excellent job.” “Dig in.” Jack gestured to the food on the table. “We’ll go for a swim after breakfast.”

They ate in relative silence, and when they finished, Jack went upstairs and took a quick shower while Chrissy cleaned up the mess from breakfast. He came back down in camouflage board shorts and no shirt. He really was a work of art. “You’re staring, babe.” “Oh, uh … sorry ’bout that,” she said. “Gonna change into my bathing suit. Be right back.” “I’ll grab us some towels and some bottled water. Meet you outside.” Fifteen minutes later, Chrissy was lying next to Jack on a beach towel enjoying the scorching Florida heat on

her skin. Jack rolled onto his side, his head resting on his palm, while he drew little circles on Chrissy’s exposed abdomen. “I haven’t relaxed by the beach in years,” he said. Chrissy turned her face to him. “Really? But that’s a sacrilege, since you live on the beach. Nothing better than sand, sun, and the salty warm water of the ocean.” “Most mornings I do go jogging on the beach, but actually bathing in the ocean and lazing around on the beach … nope, it’s been a long time.” “Well, I think you need to start doing it more often,” she said. His hands were now a little lower on her body. He skimmed the waistband of the bikini bottom with his index finger. Chrissy’s brain went into overdrive. “There are lots of things I need to do more often.” He lifted his sunglasses and winked at her. “Are you flirting with me, Daniels?” “If you can’t tell, then I’m doing a terrible job.” His hand slipped a little farther down her bikini bottom. “Jack …,” she whispered. “Shh. No one can see us. Just go with it.” Chrissy sat up on her elbows and looked around. Between the sand dunes and the sea grass, it was pretty secluded. Certainly people could walk by and see them, but there was no one around. And if the neighbors stayed inside, they couldn’t see anything either. Jack’s hand went lower still. She gasped. “Relax,” he

soothed. When he reached the exact spot he wanted to touch, he found her wet. Soaked. And they hadn’t even gotten in the water just yet. “I can tell you want this.” He rubbed just enough to elicit a little moan. He then went lower still and, without warning he thrust two fingers inside of her. She gasped and bucked. He leaned into her so that the weight of his body held her down. “Jack! Oh, God, more …” He obliged and moved in and out faster until her hips bucked so wildly that he had to use his other hand to pin her down. Her arms wrapped around his neck and when she was about to come he silenced her scream with his tongue in her mouth. Then he put his sunglasses back on and rolled back onto his towel. Chrissy wanted to reciprocate, but the heat from the sun and the intense orgasm made her completely immobile. Jack stood up and extended his hand. “Come on. Let’s go in the water.” Chrissy grunted. Jack chuckled. “What was that?” She grunted again and waved his hand away. “Nap. I need a nap.” He laughed. “You are so adorable.” He reached down and picked her up. “Someone told me I had to enjoy the ocean more often.” Chrissy squealed and kicked. “No! Don’t you dare!” Jack threw her glasses on the beach towel and carried

her to the water. She was sure he was going to hurl her in. Instead he walked in slowly, cradling Chrissy. “Aren’t you … don’t you … I mean, it was a great orgasm, don’t you want me to …” “Sometimes it’s about us, sometimes it’s about you, and sometimes it’s about me. This time it was about you. Now be quiet and enjoy the beach.” Chrissy draped her arms around his neck and nuzzled closer. Yes, it had certainly been about her, and she was okay with leaving it that way. Next time it would be about him. By midafternoon they were both hot, hungry, and a few shades darker. “Sweetheart, can you hand me my glasses? I can’t see without them,” she said as she scrambled for her towel blindly. “Sweetheart?” “Huh?” She looked up at him, dumbfounded. “You just called me sweetheart.” “I did? Hmm, I guess I did. Is it a problem? It’s weird, right? Sorry.” Jack walked over to her and placed her glasses on her nose, then cradled her face with his hands. “No, baby. It’s not a problem and it’s not weird at all. It’s nice. I like it. It’s just unexpected coming from you. You’re not a ‘sweetheart’ kind of girl.” He placed a very tender kiss on her lips, and they headed back to the house, hand in hand. Drogo stood by the door, tail wagging, as they

walked in. It had been one of the best days of Chrissy’s life. Well, if she was being honest, it had been the best day of her life. That evening, Jack picked up some Chinese takeout since they were both too tired and lazy to cook. They sat on his bed with cartons of food and chopsticks, eating, talking, and laughing. He had put an action movie on the TV, but it had gone mostly unnoticed. After dinner they made love again, but this time it was about them.

“Good morning, beautiful girl.” “Hey, you.” “You know you take up the entire bed when you sleep?” he asked with a chuckle. “I do not.” “Yes, you do. I almost fell off.” She hit him with a nearby pillow. “Well, at least I don’t snore.” “Actually, you do.” When Chrissy pulled the covers over her face, mortified, he threw his head back and laughed. “I’m just teasing you. You don’t snore. But you are a bed hog.” “Sorry?” She said it as a question, and he smiled.

“The chief just called me,” he told her. “I have to go in to the office for a few hours this morning. Wanna go grab breakfast at the diner before I have to head out?” “Sure. Give me fifteen.” Jack nodded and went to get ready. He was in his uniform waiting downstairs when Chrissy came down ready to leave. “We gotta take both cars, so I can head straight to work afterward.” “Okay,” Chrissy said. “Did you feed Drogo?” “Of course. I feed him every day. Although by his attitude, you’d think I didn’t give a damn about him.” “He’ll warm up to you. You’ll see.” She crouched down and said goodbye to the pup. When they arrived at EE’s, Jack walked behind Chrissy, his hand on the small of her back. The place was packed. There weren’t too many restaurants in the small town, and the diner had been around for years. They looked around to see if there were any available tables. Esther saw them from the other side of the diner and smiled. “We’re swamped today. Grab yourself some menus and find a seat, ’kay?” “Sure, Esther.” Jack got the menus while Chrissy located a booth and sat down. Instead of sitting across the table, Jack slid in next to her. He didn’t even bother looking at the menu, obviously familiar with the selection. While she scanned the choices, he nuzzled her neck with tiny kisses, which made Chrissy giggle. No one noticed, since she held the

large menu in front of her face. “Your hair smells delicious,” he said, inhaling deeply. “Your neck tastes delicious.” She giggled again when he took a nibble of her neck. “Without sounding like a total pussy, which I undoubtedly will, I don’t remember ever being so happy. You make me happy.” Chrissy turned her face to his and looked at him. He had a big, silly grin. It was the same silly grin that had taken up residence on her face in the last few days. She reached her hand to his face and cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. Her heart skipped a beat as soon as her skin came into contact with his. This was bliss. This was happiness. It was the first time she’d experienced it. Unfortunately, the moment was interrupted by Melinda, the clerk she’d spoken with a few days prior. “Honey, I’m so glad to see you here. Remember I told you about my brother Miles? He’s here with me. Just stepped out to the bathroom. I can’t wait for you to meet him.” “Um … I … uh …” She looked over at Jack, who had a mischievous smile on his face. He was enjoying her discomfort. Bastard. “Hey, Jack, how you doing? Nice shiner.” Melinda pointed to Jack’s eye. “I heard you kicked that out-oftowner’s behind in that fight on Thursday. Good for you.” “Thank you. I’m looking forward to meeting Miles as well. You said he was a doctor just like Chrissy, right? A

chiropractor? I have the worst kink in my neck.” Chrissy kicked him under the table, and Jack smiled, exposing the dimple that Chrissy loved. “Oh, he’s the best. Really. He’ll fix you right up,” Melinda told him. Then she turned back to Chrissy. “Well, I’m gonna go have a seat. As soon as he comes out of the restroom I’ll introduce you two.” She leaned across the table, completely ignoring Jack, and whispered, “He’s a handsome devil. You’ll see.” She winked before walking away. “Jerk!” Chrissy punched Jack’s shoulder as soon as Melinda was out of view. “You didn’t say anything.” He grinned. “Actually, I’m kinda offended that it didn’t occur to her that you and I are here together.” “That’s because … well, Jack, you look like … like … well, like you do. All muscular and hot. And I’m just Chrissy. If anything, I should be offended.” “I don’t think so, babe. They think you, the town darling, the big-shot doctor, wouldn’t be caught dead with a nobody like me.” “I doubt that, Jack.” Before they could continue their conversation, Esther came to take their order. Jack told her what they wanted, which Esther didn’t bother to write down. Chrissy wasn’t sure if it was because Esther had been waiting tables for so long that she could easily remember the order or if it was because she was totally ignoring Jack. “Jeffrey’s back in the office helping with some paperwork I needed

filled out. He’s an accountant. Did I mention that the other day?” Esther turned toward the counter and hollered at her husband, “Earl, go get Jeffrey. Tell him to come out here. There’s someone special he needs to meet.” “Sure thing, darlin’,” Earl responded. Jack leaned back and crossed his arms, obviously enjoying Chrissy’s discomfort. While they waited in silence for Jeffrey, someone spilled a drink at the table across from them, and Esther excused herself. That’s when a familiar figure walked over to the table. His white T-shirt strained around his biceps. She couldn’t see his hair because he had a baseball cap on, but she could see the top of a tattoo on his neck, running down under his shirt. He had a white apron wrapped around his jeans, and he wore black combat boots that he hadn’t even bothered to finish fastening. “Yo, Jack. Still celebrating your victory?” “Travis. Hey.” Jack stood and shook the man’s hand. “Didn’t know you worked here.” “I don’t. Well, not really. I had to get a temporary part-time gig for some shit I’ve got going on, and Esther needed help, so she hired me.” “Cool.” Jack slid back into the booth, and Travis smiled and tipped the bill of his cap to Chrissy. He had perfect white teeth, and his smile crinkled the corner of his eyes. “Chrissy Martin. Didn’t reckon I’d see you again so

soon.” “Yep. I saw your sister a couple of nights ago. Jamie Lynn hasn’t changed a bit.” “Yeah. She told me she saw you. So how long you in town for, baby?” Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Just for a few days.”

Jack tensed. What the fuck? Was this guy—his friend, a guy he saw all the time at the gym, a guy he trained with, competed with—was this fucking asshole hitting on his girl again? No fucking way! And, again, she wasn’t stopping it. He looked at her, and she smiled wryly. Ha! Since he hadn’t helped her fend off Melinda and Esther’s matchmaking schemes, she was trying to rile him up by not setting this asshole straight. Well, he was going to have to do it himself. “Before you leave, maybe we could grab—” Travis began. Oh, fuck no! Didn’t Travis notice he was sitting right next to her? They were obviously together. He was starting to get pissed. Really pissed. But before Jack could say anything, a lanky man in his

mid-thirties with thinning black hair, wearing what looked like an expensive suit, came to their table and just slid right into their booth. What the hell? This has to be a prank. Jack looked around to see if there were hidden cameras somewhere. His hand squeezed Chrissy’s thigh under the table. She’d better set the bookworm across the booth straight, and immediately. “Hi there, pretty.” Cheesy as hell! Jack thought. “Do I know you?” Chrissy giggled, and Jack turned to face her. He growled inwardly. No one was to hear the beautiful sound that was her giggle except him. “Mom sent me over. She said you were interested in meeting. I’m Jeffrey.” He extended his hand, and Chrissy hesitantly took it. Jack squeezed her thigh harder and she stepped on his foot, hard. Luckily he was wearing his steel-toed work boots. “And you must be her brother. I just moved into town, but I’ve heard all about you and your pro fights.” “No. No. He’s not my brother, he’s—” Chrissy began, before she was cut off. “This is Jack. He’s Slade’s best friend. See, Slade is Chrissy’s brother, and she was raised with Slade and Jack. So yeah, they might as well be brother and sister,” Travis, who was still standing there, answered. Jack was speechless. Damn it, Travis! I wanted to hear how she was going to finish that sentence. “Listen, I’m so very flattered, Jeffrey, but—”

And the three-ring circus continued when Miles, Melinda’s brother, walked up and slid in next to Jeffrey, interrupting Chrissy’s train of thought. Jeffrey seemed a little agitated at having to scoot over. “Oh, God. What now?” Jack heard an annoyed Chrissy mumble under her breath. “You must be the beautiful Chrissy Martin. I’ve heard lots about you,” Miles said to her. “I remember you. You were gorgeous back then—” “When she was fifteen, dude?” Jack interrupted, angrily. “Well, nothing wrong with a little admiring from a distance. So, why don’t you say you and I get outta here and catch a movie or something? Or better yet, we’re both doctors, so why don’t I show you my practice? It’s right around the corner.” “Um,” Chrissy murmured, clearly nervous. This was getting out of hand, Jack thought. One of them needed to set these three idiots straight, and Chrissy seemed too confused to be the one to do it. And again Jack thought: Why the hell are they just assuming she’s not with me? What am I, chopped liver? “Hey, man. I was here first,” Jeffrey whined. “Come get a drink with me, Chrissy.” “It’s ten in the morning!” Chrissy replied, but before Jeffrey could say anything Travis cut in. “Actually, I was here first. So, if you two wouldn’t mind …”

Just then Esther approached. “Go back to work, Trav.” Travis groaned. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, but he remained where he was. “Guys, listen. Truly, I’m flattered. Any woman would be,” Chrissy began, but again she didn’t seem to be able to get any further. Now she really looked mad. She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. He could feel her foot tapping the floor. “Darlin’, this is just silly,” Esther told her. “Miles is too old for you and clearly not your type. Jeffrey is gorgeous and a professional. It’s obvious that you and my son are a perfect fit.” “Put a cork in it Esther,” Melinda snapped, suddenly joining the party that was taking place around the booth. “My brother’s a doctor, not some boring accountant.” Esther defended her son. “He ain’t boring. He’s perfect for Chrissy. She needs a real man, not some old divorcé.” Suddenly Earl was making his way over to the scene as well. “Oh, God! Is this really happening?” Chrissy glanced at Jack, who looked … Well, a rainbow of emotions played across his face. He looked livid, embarrassed, jealous, and utterly amused, all at the same time. “What’s all the hoopla?” Earl asked. “You got the whole restaurant craning their necks to try to hear what’s going on.”

“Your very sweet wife and Melinda here are trying to set me up. And although I am really flattered—” “You’ve said that three times already, baby,” Travis interrupted. “Just spit out the rest of the sentence where you let them down easy and tell me you’ll meet me after work.” Jack had both palms on the table and was about to get up and hit his buddy. “Back to work, Travis!” Earl yelled. Travis rolled his eyes. “Your wife and son are trying to steal Chrissy away from my brother,” Melinda informed Earl, irate. “I was here first!” Jeffrey griped. “I am not a piece of property!” Chrissy cried, but no one seemed to be paying attention to her. “Actually, I was here first. Wasn’t I, baby?” Travis interjected with a sexy wink at Chrissy, who smiled back at Travis. A deep, guttural growl escaped Jack. He looked like he was going to punch Travis right in the face. He’d been only slightly irritated by the flirting coming from Miles and Jeffrey, and mostly amused—two sillylooking, mildly attractive men who didn’t stand a chance with his feisty Chrissy. But apparently gorgeous Travis made Jack insecure. “Get back to work, Trav!” Earl and Esther yelled at the same time. Travis threw one last seductive smile at Chrissy, then

slowly strolled back toward the kitchen. “My boy is clearly the better choice. He stands to inherit this here diner, and he’s handsome as all hell.” Esther reached toward Jeffrey and pinched his cheek. “Aren’t you, sweetie?” “Mom …,” whined Jeffrey, embarrassed. Jack snorted. Luckily, with all the commotion and bickering, no one except Chrissy had noticed. She kicked him under the table. Just when Jack was about to get up and whup all three men’s asses, Slade came into the diner. “Holy shit!” Chrissy yelped at the sight of her brother. The herd of people surrounding the booth all turned to look at Slade, who by now had spotted them. “What’s going on? We having a party or something?” he asked, noticing the crowd of people. His words were barely decipherable because his lips were so swollen. Chrissy planted her palms on the table and leaned across Jack to get a better look at her brother. “Holy shit, dude. I heard you got fucked up, but shit, man, you look terrible,” Travis said as he walked back toward the circus. “Thanks a lot, dickhead,” Slade said playfully. “Oh my God,” Chrissy cried, her mouth agape. “I won the fight,” Slade said to Chrissy. “What fight? Your fight’s tonight,” Chrissy said, looking first at Slade and then at Jack. “Nope. It was late on Thursday. I won,” Slade said

with a smile that came out a little contorted. “But you said it was on Saturday. Today is Saturday. You’re taking me later,” she said, turning to face Jack. Travis had left to go take care of his tables but the other two men remained, watching the exchange between Jack, Slade, and Chrissy. “I was going to go. I wanted to go.” Getting no response from Jack, she reached up and gently touched Slade’s face. “What hurts?” she asked. “Nothing and everything. I’m too excited to be in pain.” “Slade! This is serious,” Chrissy yelped. “My head hurts, but only a little.” “You took a hit on the head, didn’t you?” Chrissy asked, and Slade nodded. “It’s amazing you’re still alive. I think you have a concussion, again. You’re slightly pale. You need to go get a CT scan and make sure there’s no internal bleeding.” “No way. I’m fine. My reflexes are fine. I’m on top of the world. You know how much money I just banked? A hundred grand, baby. And if it makes you feel better, I stayed awake for twelve hours after the fight. You know … not falling asleep if you have a concussion and all that bullshit.” “Why didn’t you come tell me?” “I didn’t want to worry you. Oh, and by the way, I went to speak with Jessica last night. She’s not going to help me. She’s back with Dennis and doesn’t want to get him in any trouble.”

“Shit,” Chrissy responded, and glanced over at Jack, who was uncharacteristically silent. The other men didn’t bother moving away from the intimate family conversation. Melinda and Esther were bickering a few feet away, and Earl was back in the kitchen. “Of course I’m going to worry. If you’re bleeding inside your skull, you could die. A hundred thousand dollars won’t mean much if you’re dead,” Chrissy said. “I’m not disoriented and I’m not vomiting. Just a slight headache. I know the drill.” “You’re so damn hardheaded! That’s probably why you keep surviving these concussions. Let me check the rest of you and perform a few more stupidectomies!” “Stupid what?” Miles interjected. “Dude, don’t even ask,” Slade answered. “Seriously, man, butt out. Why haven’t you two left?” Jack said to Miles and Jeffrey, annoyed. “I gotta eat something,” Slade said to Chrissy. “I’m starved. Then we’ll go home and you can check whatever you want.” Slade looked at the two men sitting in the booth with Jack and Chrissy. “You guys mind?” “Yeah, man, actually we do. We’re not leaving. We’re waiting for Chrissy to pick one of us,” Jeffrey said. “Oh my God.” Chrissy slumped down and put her head on her palms. Her mood had gone way past anger and was now bordering on complete breakdown territory. “Enough!” Jack had had it. “She’s not interested. Get

out. She needs some time with her brother.” Cocky, creepy Miles winked. “I love a girl who plays hard to get.” Filled with rage, Jack began to get up, but Chrissy pushed him back down. Having had enough herself, Chrissy sat up straight and addressed Miles and Jeffrey. “Please, just go away. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be harsh, but really, I’m not interested. For the last twenty minutes I’ve been trying to get a word in edgewise to tell you that. I am not interested,” she repeated, louder and firmer. “So, can you please excuse us?” They slid out of the booth. “I don’t understand why you’d ask my mother to introduce us if you weren’t interested,” Jeffrey grumbled. “I didn’t! She asked me!” Chrissy cried with exasperation. “You’re making a mistake, honey. We’d be great together. Look how much we have in common—both doctors and all.” Miles winked again before he walked away. “You’re a fucking chiropractor! She’s a doctor, you are a chiropractor. Not the same thing,” Jack said, but Miles didn’t even turn around to respond. Now that the three were alone, Chrissy continued her conversation. “So, Jessica’s not helping. Now what? Can he actually go to jail, Jack?” Chrissy asked. As she spoke, she was scrutinizing the fresh wound under Slade’s eye. “I need to check out that cut when we get

home. It looks deep, and I doubt you did a thorough job cleaning it out.” Slade nodded. “Fine. As soon as I finish eating. So, Jack, can I go to jail or what?” He was the epitome of cool. No concern at all. “Yes, it’s possible you could go to jail. There’s a lot of pressure coming from the mayor, but I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Jack reached over and squeezed Slade’s forearm. “I know you really like that girl too. You’re worried about her, aren’t you? It’s not just about the jail thing.” “Yeah, man. I’m pretty sure that guy Dennis hits her. He needs to be taught a lesson.” “Well, I appreciate your concern over this girl,” Chrissy put in, “but I don’t want you getting into any more trouble. Your answer to everything is kicking someone’s ass, and there are other ways to handle this situation. You’re my brother, and I’m looking out for you. As things stand, you could potentially go to jail for this girl, who isn’t willing to help you back. And I’m furious you didn’t tell me about the fight. I wanted to be there.” Slade gave a sideways glance at Jack. Luckily, Chrissy didn’t notice. “I gotta go,” Slade said suddenly. “Wait. What? You didn’t even eat.” “I know. Not so hungry anymore. Come by the house later if you want to bandage me up.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I feel great.”

“Famous last words,” Jack said, softly slapping Slade’s shoulder. “I’ll be there as soon as we finish breakfast,” Chrissy said. “Yes, Doc,” Slade said to his sister before walking out of the diner. Jack was surprised Chrissy hadn’t flipped the fuck out on him yet. But approximately 2.3 seconds after Slade left, Jack saw the lightbulb over her head go on, and she whipped around to look at Jack. Shit! It’s about to get real bad! “Did you know?” Chrissy hissed. “I … um …” “Did. You. Know?” she asked again slowly. “Did I know what?” “Don’t play stupid, Jack.” “I didn’t know Jessica wouldn’t help.” Jack rubbed his head with his hand, something he did when he was worried. “Jack!” “Don’t be mad, Chris.” “Tell me!” He took a deep breath and braced himself. “He won. He’s safe. Isn’t that great?” Maybe if he turned it into something positive she wouldn’t be pissed, he thought briefly, before realizing, No point kidding yourself. No matter what, she’s going to be furious! “He’s a hundred grand richer. Never has to fight again. Isn’t that great?”

he repeated, not even convincing himself. She didn’t speak for a few moments. Her nostrils flared. Her cheeks were flushed, and the red was working its way up her face to her ears. Not good. Not good at all. She shoved him. “Let me out!” “What?” “Move, Daniels! Let me out of this fucking booth.” Jack slid out, and Chrissy followed. They hadn’t even finished eating. Chrissy began walking out of the diner but was stopped by Travis. Jack threw some money on the table and made his way toward them. “So, baby, how ’bout that date?” Travis said. “Fuck off, Trav! She’s mine!” Jack hissed. Chrissy took a step toward Jack. Blind fury filled her eyes. Never had he seen her so angry. She reached back and slapped him across the face, hard. He knew he deserved it. “Uh … dude? I think not,” Travis said. Jack was too stunned to reply. “So, is that a yes, baby?” “No!” both Chrissy and Jack replied. “And never call her ‘baby’ again, jerk-off.” Jack followed a raging Chrissy out the door. Once they were outside the diner, she turned back to face him so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. “You lied to me!” Her chin quivered, and a grave look gripped her soft features. “I confided in you. I let my

guard down, and you lied to me and deceived me. You slept with me just to distract me so I wouldn’t go to the fight.” “No, baby. I—” “Shut up!” she yelled. “Do not ‘baby’ me!” Her fists clung to her sides. “If something had happened to Slade and I wasn’t there because of you, it would have killed me.” She stood on her tiptoes, her face inches from his. “You both knew I wanted to go. I expected nonsense like this from him, but after the last few days, I thought I meant something to you. I thought … You know what? It doesn’t matter. You knew how worried I was. Both of you lied to me so I wouldn’t go. But you slept with me to distract me!” she repeated. This time tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “He hadn’t even recovered from the last fight.” “He promised me he was ready to fight. I thought it was for the best you weren’t there. For you and for him. It’s not a place you should go, and if you’d been there, he’d have been distracted. It could have been so much worse. These fight-to-the-finish fights can be brutal. He —” “Fight to what?” Chrissy demanded. Shit. Didn’t Slade mention that to her before? Keep your stupid trap shut, moron! You’re making it worse! “Um … fight-to-the-finish? It means that there are no time restraints or referees. They basically fight until—” “Oh my God! Until someone dies!” Chrissy yelped.

“No! Not dies. Well, not on purpose. Wait, this is coming out all wrong. Someone always gets tapped out, knocked out, or choked out.” “Oh, geez. Thanks. That makes it all better!” She looked ready to knock him out. “What I’m trying to say is that I heard from some of the guys that were there, and it didn’t end as badly as it could have. They even said that the crowd wasn’t happy because they paid for action but got none.” He was trying to placate her by explaining that Slade was perfectly fine, but she wasn’t budging. Her anger and hurt were palpable. He wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, wipe away the lone tear that was making its way down her cheek, but he thought it was better that he keep his distance at the moment. She was too upset. “Chrissy, it was too dangerous a place for you. I wasn’t just mad at Slade for fighting, I was mad at him for fighting in that particular underground ring of fights. Why do you think they make so much money? This is mob-type stuff, Chrissy. The fight was in a very bad part of town in an abandoned warehouse.” He wanted to explain that there were heavy bettors in the crowd, not to mention the potential for prostitution and drugs—all things she didn’t need to see. Not only didn’t he want her there, but as law enforcement, he couldn’t be caught in a place like that. The last time she’d gone, she’d wound up hurt and accosted by two assholes, and he wouldn’t have allowed her to get hurt again.

Chrissy stormed away from him before he was able to finish his explanation. Jack pushed off the car he had been leaning against. “Chrissy, please don’t do this.” Seeing her hurt and angry made his stomach flip and his heart ache in a way he’d never experienced before. “I want to apologize, bu—” “Don’t bother. I know I was just a quick fuck to you, and now we can both move on,” she interrupted. “Can you just be quiet for a second?” He tried to rein in his mounting anger. “You couldn’t possibly be more wrong about the way I feel about you. It wasn’t just sex, and please don’t call it a fuck ever again. Don’t cheapen what we did, what we have. I will always, always”—his voice became louder—“protect you from harm. Do you understand?” He took a step closer, his features hardening. “I don’t need your fucking permission to protect you. I didn’t need it for fifteen years and I sure as hell don’t need it now. Making sure you are safe is my goddamn job. And that is something I will not apologize for.” She whipped around and poked his chest. “You’re a manipulative Neanderthal. I’m not the same little girl that you had this misplaced obligation to protect. I’m a grown-ass woman, and I decide if something is too dangerous for me to handle, not you. If we were together, is this how it would be? You lying and deciding what’s safe and what’s not? Like I’m an infant? Like you used to treat me all those years ago? Stifle me?

Whatever this was between us is over.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, Jack. All this”—she waved her finger between them—“it’s been great. Really great. Best fuck ever, actually. You don’t have to worry. I never had any romantic notions that this would be more than what it was. I’m a big girl. I wanted it as much as you did. We’d never work out, anyway.” It was as if she was trying to convince herself. “In fact, I don’t even know what this is. I’m a doctor. I heal people for a living. And you fuck people up for a living. I’ve been fucked up before, and I can’t live in fear. You’re the definition of not right for me. I saw your face as you were beating the crap out of that guy on Thursday. I heard you talking to Cain that day when Slade was getting out on bail. You were proud—ecstatic, actually— that the guy you beat up might be seriously hurt. That scares me so much. One minute you’re this sweet, protective cop who has me so completely smitten that I forget all logic and reason, and the next you’re violent and savage and happy about it. Guess who that reminds me of? I hate to even say it out loud because I promised myself never to be afraid of a man again, but you scare me, Jack.” “Chris, you know I’d never hurt you.” “No, Jack, I don’t know that. I’ve been down this road already. I never should’ve gone with you to your fight. It made me see you in a different light. Actually, I shouldn’t have slept with you. You scare me,” she

repeated. “I tried to push that feeling aside because all the sexiness that is you made my head all fuzzy. I’m sorry, Jack, I gotta go,” she said, holding back tears and climbing into her car. “Chrissy, please,” he whispered through clenched teeth, but she was already driving away. Shit. I don’t think I handled that well. She was right, though. She did deserve to be able to make her own choices. Why was it that every time he was around her he felt this overwhelming need to protect her? He had a constant urge to sling her over his shoulder and drag her back to his cave and keep her safe. Apparently she didn’t like it all that much. And she’d called it a fuck. Jack couldn’t help but flinch at that word. Even if it had been fast and rough, it wasn’t just a fuck. It was more than that. A lot more than that. What the more was, he wasn’t quite sure. There were feelings there that he’d never had with any other woman. His hand involuntarily went to his chest to rub the tightening he felt there. It was an unfamiliar feeling. He found himself thinking about her: the moment their eyes had locked for the first time after eleven years when he stopped her for speeding … her unabashed giggles … the way her glasses constantly fell down her nose … the way she let him take charge, touch her, hold her, even when she was uncertain … the way she sometimes looked scared but straightened her spine and made sure the world never saw her waver … the way her

body fit so perfectly against his. But most of all, his mind wandered to the way she looked at him with those piercing blue eyes. How she called him “sweetheart.” How easily she had given herself fully to him in bed. The way she made him feel. He continued to rub his chest, then suddenly stopped when it hit him like a two-by-four. “Son of a bitch!” he whispered to himself. He was in love with Christine Martin! How the hell had he not seen that coming? And even though he had just realized it himself, how the hell could she think it was anything less than love? Suddenly the tightening in his chest changed to a hollowness, because these newly discovered feelings made him nervous. If there was one day Jack was happy he had a twelvehour shift ahead of him, today was that day. At least it would give Chrissy time to calm down.

Chapter 11 Chrissy walked into her old house. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so upset. A swim could help take her mind off things, or at least help cool her down, because right now she was seeing red. She ran upstairs to change into her bathing suit but realized with dismay that all of her stuff was at Jack’s house and she had left the key he’d given her on his kitchen table. She remembered Jack mentioning that Slade had a key to his house, but who the hell knew where Slade kept it. Chrissy rummaged through some of the drawers in the kitchen and was surprised to find that Slade was remarkably organized. Suddenly she had the idea to check where her father had kept all the spare keys. Even though it was a long shot, she looked on the top shelf of the pantry, in the exact same place her father had stored them. There she found a clear plastic box full of keys, each labeled with a little plastic tag. Chrissy saw one labeled “JD,” and she fist-pumped in the air. With the spare key in hand, Chrissy made her way next door, where she was greeted by a cheerful Drogo. She took a minute to pet him and feed him some slices of cheese before she changed into her bathing suit. Once dressed, she locked the front door and exited through the

back door to the beach. Chrissy was so inside her own head, she dove straight into the ocean without much thought. The refreshing salt water against the extreme Florida heat was a good, albeit temporary, escape from the thoughts that were invading her head: Jack, Slade, Jessica, Tarpon Springs, the job that waited for her in Miami … When she was completely exhausted from the argument, the swimming, and the heat, she threw herself down on the sand. She needed to think. She had definite feelings for Jack, but she knew deep down that the sex and the hot-macho-man demeanor were keeping her from thinking clearly. She had avoided men like Jack for a decade. He’d never given her any inkling that he’d hurt her, but neither had Brian. No, her judgment was definitely off, and seeing Jack so violent when he fought, combined with his near giddiness about having beaten his opponent to a bloody pulp, made her nervous. Very nervous. After about twenty restless minutes, she walked along the beach back to Slade’s house and went inside for a shower. When she was done with that and her anger had still not subsided, she decided to lie down in her old bedroom with the intention of going to sleep early, but she was too wound up. She heard Slade come in at some point, so she stomped downstairs to check on him. She needed to make sure that he didn’t have any serious injuries after his fight.

“Let me see you,” Chrissy said, not bothering with much of a bedside manner. “I’m fine, Chrissy. Really, I am.” “Just sit, Slade.” He obliged, and she checked him as thoroughly as she could with her limited medical kit. Too bad she didn’t have a CAT scanner that fit in her backpack. A half hour later she was done, and Slade excused himself, saying he was exhausted and needed sleep. She was still too angry to talk, so she just nodded. Back in her room, Chrissy couldn’t help but think about Jessica. If that asshole Dennis had tried to attack her in a parking lot, how many times had he attacked her in private? There was so much turmoil going on in Chrissy’s head, between her brother’s problems and Jack’s lie, she couldn’t possibly sleep. She had thought that Jack had wanted some sort of relationship with her, and even though she hadn’t been sure whether she wanted a relationship with him, now she just felt hurt and confused. She couldn’t trust him, and coupled with his tendencies toward violence, there was just no way she could ever be with him. She should have stuck to the plan and gone back to Miami. If she had, she would have avoided all of this drama. Chrissy thought back on how her life had been eleven years ago. If she’d had someone to talk to, maybe her life would’ve been different. She had always had an overwhelming sense of guilt about not having gone to

the police when Brian abused her. She’d always wondered if he’d attacked other women since then. With that thought, she sprang to her feet, checked up on Slade one final time, and drove off to find Jessica. The Pier was located a few miles away. Chrissy asked the bouncer by the door for Jessica, and he pointed to a tall, lean brunette standing behind the bar serving drinks to a rowdy group of men. She made her way over and took a seat. It was late and the place would be closing soon. She ordered a glass of red wine from the male bartender, and while she sipped her drink, she took inventory of her surroundings. When she’d been there with Jack, she hadn’t really looked at the place well. But now that she was alone, she was able to take stock. It wasn’t a sordid bar. It looked like a local watering hole, and most of the people seemed to know each other. She glanced over at the group of raucous men in their mid-twenties on the other side of where she sat. She deduced that they had just come from watching a football game and were drunk. A few of the guys hit on Chrissy, and she smiled but declined all their offers for drinks or dancing. Jessica made her way to the side of the bar where Chrissy was sitting and asked her if she wanted a refill, to which Chrissy nodded in acceptance. As Jessica was pouring the glass of wine, one of the young guys, the most obnoxious of the bunch, came up behind Chrissy, leaned toward her, and whispered something incoherent into her ear, startling her. He was

way too close for comfort, so she shoved him away. “Back off!” Jessica, who was on the other side of the bar, saw the altercation. “Hey, man! I already told you to leave me and my customers alone.” “Don’t be a bitch. Just ’cause you won’t give it up doesn’t mean this pretty little lady won’t,” the obnoxious guy yelled at Jessica. “Hey!” Chrissy stood up and turned around, her back to the bar. “Don’t be a prick, asshole,” Jessica snapped at the guy from behind Chrissy. That surprised Chrissy—she hadn’t expected a tenacious woman. She had thought she’d find a frail or helpless victim. But why? Why would she have thought Jessica to be anything but strong? Chrissy wasn’t frail or helpless, and yet she had been a victim. After a lot of mostly slurred and incoherent remarks from the obnoxious guy, the bouncer finally came and escorted him out, earning a round of cheers and applause from nearby patrons. Chrissy sat back down and faced the other woman. “Sorry ’bout that. Sometimes we get belligerent frat boys who don’t know when to put a cork in it,” said Jessica. “It’s fine. No worries. Thanks for the help, though.” “No problem. Here.” Jessica poured her another glass of wine. “Have a drink on the house.” “Thanks.” Chrissy sat at the bar for another hour or so

and noticed how well put together Jessica was, how confident and beautiful. She could see why Slade liked her. When the crowd had thinned out and Jessica was wiping down the bar area in preparation for closing, Chrissy called her over. “Another drink, honey?” Jessica asked. “No. Actually, do you have a minute to talk? In private?” “Excuse me?” Jessica looked confused. “My name’s Chrissy. I’m—” Jessica snapped her fingers and pointed, as if she recognized something. “Slade’s sister. I kept thinking you looked familiar, but I didn’t realize the resemblance until just now. You both have the same eyes.” She smiled at Chrissy, which gave Chrissy a jolt of relief. She had thought that Jessica might refuse to speak with her. “Meet you outside in ten minutes?” Chrissy nodded. She finished her drink, paid her tab, and waited outside by the bouncer. A few minutes later Jessica walked out. “Come on, honey. My car’s right by the bench. We can talk there and still be close enough to Luis, just in case.” She winked at the bouncer. It was a typical Florida evening, hot and humid. The sky was clear and a full moon decorated the sky beautifully. The two women sat down on the bench, both with a small sheen on their brow from the heat. “I know why you’re here. You want me to testify

against Dennis to help your brother out.” “I do.” “I can’t do that. I wish I could, but I can’t. I love Dennis. I don’t want him to go to jail over some stupid jealous fight.” “But you’re okay with my brother going to jail?” When Jessica didn’t answer, Chrissy continued speaking. “Look, I don’t know you, and it’s not my place, but Slade says Dennis was going to hit you. Sweetie, you have to testify against him. Even if it’s not to help my brother, you have to do it for yourself.” “No, no, it’s not like that. Dennis never hits me. I mean, Dennis would never hit me.” Jessica wiped a drop of sweat from her forehead. “He was just angry. He loves me. I wish I could help Slade. I really do.” “You can, Jessica. Please. He’s the only family I have. I know what it is to be …” Chrissy paused. Other than Jack and her family, she’d never admitted this to anyone else. “I know what it’s like to be in an abusive relationship.” Jessica stood up. “Abusive relationship? How dare you? You don’t know me. You don’t know Dennis. He was just mad. I told you, he’d never hit me.” “Sit, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’ve been there. I understand.” Jessica’s eyes watered. “You don’t know anything. I’m not you. Whatever issue you had has nothing to do with me. Dennis wouldn’t hit me.” But the words didn’t come

out quite as firmly as she clearly intended them to. “Jessica, you have bruises on your wrists. I noticed them when I walked into the bar. I used to—” She stopped as Jessica recoiled and put her hands in her pockets. “Look, I’ll see what I can do about Slade, but don’t come find me again. Please. Just don’t get involved in my life. Dennis is a good guy. He is.” Jessica backed away from Chrissy, got into her car, and drove off. Chrissy was left sitting in the parking lot. She wanted to help Jessica but knew that there was nothing else she could do. She walked to her own car and started to head back home. As she drove she replayed the last few days in her head. She had been dumped via text; Slade, who didn’t give a shit about himself or about her, had been arrested; she’d had mind-blowing sex with Jack, who broke her trust and loved to fight. How could she contemplate anything serious with Jack when he embodied the thing she hated most, violence? Her mind wandered, and she found herself continuing south instead of getting off at the exit for Slade’s house. She was running. Again. What would staying in town get her? Perhaps more sex. But that would only end with a broken heart. It wasn’t as though Jack had hinted he wanted anything other than sex. And what if he did? What if he asked her to stay? Would she uproot her life once again for a man? A violent man? A violent, lying man?

And then there was Slade. After all these years, he had yet to forgive her for the loss of their father. How long would she have to bear the brunt of the guilt? A lifetime, she supposed. Well, writing a check from Miami would be easier than having to look into his accusatory eyes.

“It’s noon. How could she still be sleeping? Her car’s not even here,” Jack said from Slade’s doorway. “It’s not? Hmm.” With a steaming hot cup of coffee in hand, Slade glanced over Jack’s shoulder to the driveway. “What’s the ‘hmm’ for?” “She checked in on me a few times last night. I think she stopped around one in the morning. I just assumed she’d gone to sleep.” Jack pushed Slade aside and took the stairs two at a time, with Drogo following. When he reached the door to Chrissy’s room he swung it open, not even bothering to knock. Her bed had been used, so at some point she must have been there. Where the hell was she? He pulled his cell phone out and dialed, but it went straight to her voicemail. He left a message: “Hey, it’s me. I know you’re still mad but where are you? We need to talk. Call me.”

“She probably just went to get some breakfast. Relax. And get your mean-ass dog outta my house. Tell it to stop growling at me. Heel. Stay. Sit.” Slade was barking out commands to Drogo, who just continued growling. “He only listens to your sister. I think he’s in love with her.” That makes two of us. “You’re right, she probably just went to get coffee or something. Anyway, I got called in to work. Have her call me when she gets home.” “Why?” “Why what?” Jack asked, confused. “Why should she call you? Is there something going on between the two of you that I should know about? She was just supposed to be staying in your house because she was mad at me.” His voice dropped to a menacing growl and he took a step toward Jack. “Nothing better be going on between you and my baby sister, Daniels.” Jack laughed incredulously. “So now you’re the tough guy looking after your little sister?” “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Jack’s phone rang, and he saw it was the chief calling. “You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean. Listen, I gotta go. We’ll talk later.” Jack stomped out and slammed the door behind him before Slade could say anything further. “Daniels,” he answered his phone. “The victim in Martin’s case came forward and told us

what really went down. Looks like your buddy’s getting off the hook.” “That’s great news. I’m on my way.” “There’s more to the story. I’ll explain when you get here. Don’t say anything to your buddy just yet.” Ten minutes later Jack was walking into the chief’s office. “Sit.” Chief Lyon pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “What’s going on? I was supposed to be off today.” The chief stood up, closed the door behind Jack, and leaned against his desk. His shirt was untucked, his hair disheveled, and there was a coffee stain on his khaki pants. He had his arms crossed over his big beer belly. “The victim, Jessica Cross, came in early this morning badly beaten. She’s at the hospital.” “What?” “She came in here crying and asked to speak to you personally. She said she needed someone she could trust, and since she knew you were Slade’s friend, she figured you wouldn’t take the mayor’s side. But since you weren’t here, I was able to convince her to talk to me. Apparently after work last night, she tried to convince Dennis to drop the charges against Martin, and Dennis beat the shit out of her. I don’t know the entire story, because she was too banged up to explain. “I need you to keep this as quiet as possible. I want to nail that woman-beating son of a bitch. I don’t care if his

uncle is Jesus Christ himself. I’m sick of Mayor Stavros undermining my authority and having his relatives run wild in town. A few years ago I had to deal with Stavros’s son selling heroin around here; now I have to deal with his asshole nephew? No fucking way. Go to the hospital, get a formal statement from the victim. Find out what happened. Then I want you to arrest the son of a bitch.” Jack nodded but didn’t move, needing a second to process the situation. “Why are you standing around wasting my time, Daniels? Go!” Jack stood up to leave, but as he opened the door he turned around and asked, “Why me, sir?” “You’re the only guy who I know for a fact isn’t on Stavros’s payroll.” A surge of pride slammed into Jack’s chest as he headed for the hospital to speak with Jessica. He couldn’t wait to tell Chrissy that he’d been able to help Slade—though he’d have to wait until he’d formally arrested Dennis before saying anything. That was all he thought about on his way to the hospital—that and why she hadn’t called him back yet. Damn it, when did I become so pussy-whipped? Even so, he couldn’t resist trying her again. He wouldn’t tell her about Dennis, but he at least wanted to hear her voice. He hated how things had ended yesterday. He was going to make it up to her no matter what. He should have been honest with her,

even though he had lied about Slade’s fight with the best of intentions. Again, the call went straight to voicemail. “Please tell me you’re not still mad at me. Is that why you’re not answering my calls? I got called in to work. I …” I love you! Now that he had figured it out himself, he was bursting at the seams to tell her. “I guess I’ll see you later.” Jack had met Jessica several times and knew she was stunning. Not like Chrissy—no woman was as beautiful as Chrissy—but stunning nevertheless. But the battered woman lying in the hospital bed didn’t look anything like the Jessica he’d seen dozens of times before. Her eyes were bloodshot and bruised. She had a busted lip and a broken nose. There were scratches on her neck and black-and-blue imprints of fingers on her forearms. He’d bet his life that if he placed Dennis’s hands on Jessica’s forearms, his fingers would match the bruises perfectly. She grimaced as she tried to sit up. “Sorry. Broken ribs and broken arm,” she croaked. “Please, you don’t need to move. I just have to ask you a few questions. Is that okay?” She nodded. “Can you tell me what happened?” “I got home from my shift around two in the morning, a little later than usual, but nothing alarming. Dennis was still awake when I arrived. He was real sweet. He’d made me dinner and was watching television waiting for

me to get home. I sat down to eat, and since he was in such a good mood, I decided to broach the subject of the upcoming trial with Slade. I asked him to drop the charges. I told him it was for his own good, that he didn’t want that scrutiny on him or on his family. Well, that set him off. He asked me why I was late and accused me of sleeping with Slade, and he said that was why I was defending him. It wasn’t true, of course, and I denied it. I went to reach for him, to try to calm him down, but he slapped me across the face with the remote control he was holding.” As she spoke, Jack stood stiffly, taken aback by the parallels between Jessica’s story and Chrissy’s. He found that he was holding his breath. He wanted to make Dennis pay. He wanted to make Brian pay. With shaky hands, Jessica reached for a glass of water, and Jack quickly hurried to help her. “He hit me across the face,” she went on, “and I fell back—I think that’s when I broke my arm. I started to crawl away from him, but he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up to my feet. When I stood up and put my palm against my burning cheek, he backhanded me across the face again. But this time I fought back. I kicked him and pushed him and punched him. Yes, he was stronger and hit me harder, but I swear to God, I would’ve preferred to have died than just sit there and let him hit me again without doing something.” Jack didn’t know what to say. He was in awe of the

strong woman in front of him. Of Chrissy. In his head, Chrissy and Jessica were getting jumbled into the same person—he couldn’t separate one from the other. Suddenly he understood why Chrissy was so nervous about being in a relationship with him. He knew he was a big guy and could inflict serious damage if he so desired. He did dangerous things, for sport and as a profession, and to top it off, he was high-handed with her. He could see why she was scared, even if he knew he’d never hurt her. “Jessica, you did good. No man should ever hit a woman, and the fact that you fought back and came to the police … You did good, honey. And I want you to know that this is not your fault. You didn’t cause this.” She let out a little laugh. “Have you seen him?” “Dennis?” Jack asked. She nodded. “No. Not yet. Why?” “I have to admit, I kind of roughed him up.” She smiled proudly. “I kneed him as hard as I could in the groin and made a run for it, and I went straight to see you, but you weren’t there. Please let Slade know that I’m sorry. He was right about Dennis, and I’m glad his name is going to be cleared.” A nurse came in and gave Jessica some pain meds. “I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to speak. They’re keeping me pretty drugged up in here,” Jessica told Jack.

“It’s fine, Jessica. You’re doing great. Just one more question. I need your official statement about the incident between Slade and Dennis.” “That night, in the parking lot after the fight, Dennis came up behind Slade and pushed him. Dennis and I had been fighting all day and we were barely speaking. I didn’t mean to get Slade involved, but Dennis noticed how I couldn’t keep my eyes off Slade. Dennis got real jealous and grabbed me by the forearm, at the same time Slade was walking toward us. Dennis threw the first punch, and then Slade followed. I yelled at them to stop, and then Dennis lunged for me and called me a slut. Slade was just defending me. Dennis was going to hit me, I’m sure of it. Slade didn’t do anything wrong.” She yawned tentatively, careful not to move her battered face any more than necessary. “That’s my cue to leave. Thanks, Jessica. We’ll be in touch.” “Thank you, Officer.” “Jack. Please, call me Jack. I hope you feel better soon. I’m leaving my card on the table. Call me if you remember anything else, or if you need anything.” Jessica gave him a sleepy smile. As he walked out the door, she called out. “Oh, Jack, before I forget, please thank Chrissy for me. Slade’s sister,” she clarified. “She saved my life.” He froze with his fingers on the door handle. Had he heard correctly? He turned and rushed back. “Did you say Chrissy?”

She nodded. “She came to the bar last night and told me to be strong and leave him.” Before Jessica could say anything else, she fell asleep. Jack walked out of the room in a daze. “Damn it!” he said out loud in the empty hospital hallway. Then he pulled out his cell phone. “Christine. Pick up your damn phone. I just met with Jessica. Why were you with her? Fuck, Chris. Do you look for trouble? You knew she was being abused. Dennis could’ve kicked the crap out of you like he did to Jessica. Call me, damn it.” He hung up, fighting the urge to throw his phone across the hall. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already, now he couldn’t help but worry about Chrissy. Where the hell was she? Could Dennis have gotten to her? Did Dennis even know Chrissy was responsible for Jessica’s sudden courage? Jack’s thoughts were all over the place, and each of the scenarios playing in his mind involved Chrissy in some sort of danger. He got into his police cruiser to go find Dennis, but paused for a moment and pulled out his phone again. “Chrissy, baby, I’m sorry about the previous message. I didn’t mean to be such an overbearing ass. I’m just so worried about you. Where are you? Please call me. Please.” He hung up and slammed his fists into the steering wheel. Fucking stubborn woman! God, I love her.

Chapter 12 Jack arrived at Dennis’s house not expecting the motherfucker to be there. Because, really, who beats up a woman, or commits any crime for that matter, and then waits at home for the police? So he was surprised to find Dennis, the genius, sitting on the front steps smoking a cigarette. As he inched closer he noticed a black eye and scratch marks on Dennis’s face, neck, and arms. Good girl, Jessica. Dennis stood, squaring his posture. “What the fuck are you doing here, Daniels?” Jack walked closer, one hand at his waist ready to pull out his weapon if need be. He let out a snort. This guy really had some nerve. “By the looks of it, your girl really roughed you up, huh?” Dennis flicked his cigarette aside. To anyone watching, it would have seemed like a scene from a modern-day western. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack took a final step. They were close enough, he decided. Dennis wasn’t quite as tall or wide as Jack, but he was still a big man. A few inches shorter, about six foot one, but lean and toned. A formidable match for any other officer, maybe, but given Jack’s size and the fact that he was a professional cage fighter, the odds were

stacked against Dennis. “You think beating up defenseless women makes you a man? It doesn’t. You’re a pussy, and you’ll soon know the meaning of that as you rot in jail with men twice your size. They’ll make you their bitch within a week.” “Fuck you!” Dennis spat. “You obviously don’t know who I am. One call and you’re out of a job.” Dennis started to reach into his pocket, clearly intending to call his uncle. “Do. Not. Move.” Jack stood his ground. “Keep your hands where I can see them. You are under arrest for battery and assault, and for overall being a huge asshole.” Dennis laughed. “You can’t arrest me. I haven’t done anything wrong.” “You want to bet?” Jack began reading Dennis his Miranda rights as he moved in with the handcuffs. Jack’s palms itched to beat the crap out of Dennis. For Jessica. For Chrissy. For every woman who had ever been beaten up by a man. Luckily for Jack, instead of admitting defeat and going peacefully, Dennis decided to fight. If it’s a fight he wants, it’s a fight he’ll get. Dennis threw the first punch, but Jack reflexively moved out of the way, causing Dennis to miss and tumble to the ground. Jack laughed. “Tough guy, huh? You don’t have a choice in the matter—you’re coming with me. You can come quietly or you can come kicking and screaming. You choose.”

Apparently Dennis was choosing option two. He stood up and lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Jack’s torso in an attempt to knock him down. Being the wall of muscles that Jack was, he only staggered back half a foot, and within a second he had lifted Dennis over his head and slammed him to the ground. Dennis was on his back, moaning in pain. Jack crouched down inches from Dennis’s face and pointed to his own jaw. “Punch me, asshole. Please, punch me just once,” Jack begged. Dennis crawled backward, stood up, and then foolishly granted Jack’s wish. Jack dropped his hand to allow the punch, actually welcoming it, because it meant he could tack on charges of resisting arrest and battery against a law enforcement officer. Plus there was the even bigger bonus of being able to kick the crap out of Dennis and justify it as self-defense. Normally Jack didn’t need to go to such lengths to find a fight, but he really wanted to teach this dirtbag a lesson. The punch stung and caused Jack’s lip to start bleeding, but it was nothing compared to what he’d felt from professional fighters. One jab and one uppercut later, and Dennis lay on the floor in the fetal position. Effortlessly Jack flipped Dennis over onto his stomach, grabbed both his arms forcefully, and cuffed him. He pulled Dennis up by his upper arm, dragged him to the police cruiser, and took him straight to jail. When Jack arrived with a bloody lip and the mayor’s nephew in cuffs, everyone stared. But Jack couldn’t care

less. He filled out the proper paperwork and happily threw Dennis into a cell. By that time the mayor was there and yelling at the top of his lungs. “Who did this? My nephew was beaten up. This is police brutality.” Mayor Stavros slammed his fists on the police chief’s desk. “I don’t think so, Mayor. Look at my officer. He is clearly seriously hurt.” Chief Lyon sat casually in his chair, arms folded over his chest and his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. The mayor snapped his head around. Obviously he hadn’t noticed Jack. Jack played his injuries up. “Ow! Yes. Busted lip,” he said, indicating his slightly swollen and barely bleeding lip. “Please. You expect me to believe this?” “Believe what you will, Stavros, but I have a young lady in the hospital with broken ribs, a broken nose, and black-and-blue marks all over her body. Not to mention that she gave a formal statement of what occurred between your upstanding nephew and Slade Martin. I will not have my town run by crooked politicians or crooked cops. This ends today. Oh, and, Mayor Stavros, I want you to meet our new internal affairs head, Lieutenant Daniels. He will also be investigating public corruption cases. I suggest you keep your family in check from here on out. Now, if you’ll please excuse us, Lieutenant Daniels and I have work to do.”

The mayor stormed out of the office, but not before he’d shouted, “This doesn’t end here!” The chief stood up, looking menacing. “Are you threatening me, Mayor Stavros?” “You bet your ass, Chief Lyon!” He slammed the door. The chief waved his arm dismissively. “Don’t listen to him, Jack. Don’t ever let him intimidate you. He doesn’t have as much power as he thinks he does, so long as we don’t sink to his level. Remember one thing, Lieutenant Daniels, if you walk the straight and narrow, they can never blackmail you or coerce you into doing something you don’t agree with.” “Thank you, sir. I have to admit, it felt good arresting that asshole.” The chief laughed. “I’m sure it did. He deserved it. Take the rest of the day off. Clean yourself up. Go get that cut on your lip checked out, and let your buddy know that Jessica gave a statement and he’s off the hook.” The chief looked back down at his screen and started typing something up. Apparently Jack was being dismissed. He’d gotten a hell of a promotion. Arrested an asshole. Gotten Slade cleared of all the charges. And gotten a few hits in on a man who completely deserved it. For all intents and purposes, it should have been a great day. But he still hadn’t heard from Chrissy, and he was worried.

He drove straight to Slade’s house. Somewhere in his mind, he had hoped to find Chrissy’s car parked there. But it wasn’t. He knocked on the door, and Slade opened it. Drogo barked in the background. “Nothing on Chrissy?” Jack asked as he walked right in. “Nope. I have to admit, I’m starting to get worried. Where the hell is she? And what happened to your face? And please take your fucking dog with you next time. I swear, he hates me.” “Drogo hates everyone. Except Chrissy. He loves Chrissy. Anyway, I have some news.” Jack began recounting the events that had transpired between Jessica and Dennis and how Dennis had been arrested. “So you’re off the hook,” he concluded. “Thanks to Jessica. I’m glad you were there, man. If I’d seen Dennis, I’d have killed him. I gotta go see her.” Slade looked physically ill at the thought of Jessica being hurt. “No, it’s not all thanks to Jessica. It’s thanks to Chrissy too. She risked her safety last night to go talk to Jessica. Not only about getting your charges cleared, but to help Jessica get out of the abusive relationship.” “What?” “Yeah. She went to that bar in the middle of the night to help your sorry ass stay out of jail. She also went to help Jessica get away from Dennis.” “Shit. I didn’t know. She shouldn’t have gotten

involved. Why would she do something so reckless?” “You really are an asshole.” Jack took a step closer to his best friend. “You are her concern. She loves you. She feels guilty about your father’s death. Did you know that? The guilt is killing her. The things you said to her at the funeral—she has to live with them every day. She would do anything to help you. And how do you repay her? By being a self-centered douchebag.” “Guilty? Why does she feel guilty? The funeral? I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” “She told me, Slade. She told me everything that happened with Brian, with your dad, with you. I’m so fucking pissed off that you never told me about Brian. And I’m even more pissed off that you didn’t stop her from leaving all those years ago. Your father’s death wasn’t her fault. I can’t believe you blamed her for it. She needed you. You needed her.” “I don’t blame her! I never blamed her. Jack, I never asked her to leave. She left on her own. I’ve always thought it was because this house reminded her of our father, or maybe because she was disappointed in how I live my life or something. I wish she would’ve stayed. Damn it! Why would she think I blame her? I can’t believe that’s what she thinks.” Jack nodded. “She told me that at the funeral you told her all sorts of fucked-up shit, like that she should’ve called you the first time Brian hit her and that she should’ve called you, not your dad, as soon as she came

back to town, because she knew that his temper would lead to tragedy. You called her selfish and flat-out said your father’s death was her fault. That’s cruel, dude.” “I was fucking drunk! I don’t remember anything that happened that day. I was upset, I felt alone, and she was so set on leaving, which made me feel even more alone. If I did say something stupid like that, she had to know I didn’t mean it. Son of a motherfucker! We have to find her,” Slade said anxiously. “That’s what I’ve been telling you, idiot!” Jack replied, irritated.

It was early morning when Chrissy finally reached her little apartment in Miami. Since she had left her things, including her phone charger, in Tarpon Springs, her phone’s battery had died after she’d been on the road for only an hour. She wondered if anyone had even noticed she was gone. She had run away, just like she had eleven years ago, but she had her reasons. Her heart was at stake. It was a good decision. It was the right decision. Utterly exhausted, she threw herself on her bed and went to sleep. It was late afternoon when she stumbled out of bed.

First order of business: go buy a phone charger. Second order of business: contact Miami West Hospital and formally accept the job. Her heart was heavy, and she couldn’t understand why. Not even when she had left all those years ago— after her father’s death, after being abused by Brian, after leaving Slade—had she felt this type of loss. Yes, the death of her father had hurt. It had taken her years to recover, and to be honest, she’d never be the same, but she also knew that his actual death had been out of her hands. An act of God. But this—leaving Jack—had been all on her. She had made that decision. It wasn’t just losing him, it was … more. Had she made a huge mistake? Could she ever be as happy with any other man as she was with Jack? Even if it had been only a few days, the way she felt in those days with Jack was the happiest she remembered ever feeling. But, like she always did, she put all her feelings aside, closed and locked the steel cage around her heart, and dove into work. She needed to move on and think about her future, not Tarpon Springs. After buying a phone charger, she went to the HR department of the hospital. She sat in a small waiting area, her mind once again drifting to Jack. What was it about him? He had always looked at her as his kid sister. He had always been as irritating as her brother, except cuter. He’d been a menace back then. When he and Slade weren’t fighting in organized backyard brawls, they were

involved in school fights, sometimes as part of the wrestling team and sometimes not. They were always in trouble for one thing or another. Now, though, the people he fought signed up for it. And even though he was a fighter, he was also a police officer who helped people on a daily basis. Jack was a different guy now. The decade since she’d last seen him had changed him. He was a man now, and he certainly didn’t treat her as a kid sister. But she hadn’t been in love with him back then. If anything, it was a silly adolescent puppy love. And Jack? He certainly hadn’t been in love with her back then, and he wasn’t now. “Dr. Martin?” A middle-aged woman greeted her, taking Chrissy out of her thoughts. “Yes, that’s me.” “I’m Margie, director of HR for Miami West. Please, come into my office.” Margie led Chrissy into a big executive office, where they chatted a little bit about the terms of her employment. Within twenty minutes, Chrissy was walking out with a stack of papers to fill out. She’d read everything, and if all the terms were to her liking, she’d sign the packet and start working at Miami West within the month. When she arrived back home, she gracelessly plopped herself on her couch to read the huge stack of papers. The salary was great, the benefits even better. Everything seemed to be perfect. She’d be working in the very well-

known trauma center of Miami West, one of the top five trauma centers in the world. It would be very unlike her previous jobs, where she’d gone all over the world caring for the less fortunate, sometimes having to get creative with her techniques and the medicines she used. But in the ER she’d still be doing what she loved—caring for people in an adrenaline-fueled atmosphere. Just with state-of-the-art equipment rather than moonshine and a pocketknife. Chrissy looked around her small apartment. It was furnished with the basics; barely any personal items. Most of her time had been spent traveling instead of making a home for herself. She let her gaze wander to the mismatched china stacked by the sink, the coffee table piled with old magazines and bills, the big wooden trunk she had bought at a garage sale—perhaps the one piece of furniture she actually liked. There was an entertainment center that housed a small television. Above the television, on the shelf, she kept a few bottles of liquor, including some wine, scotch, and vodka, along with some of her nicer glasses, mostly for company. She sat up abruptly. She’d had an epiphany like a bolt of lightning. She walked to the shelf and snatched up the small bottle of Jack Daniel’s that was behind a stainlesssteel cocktail shaker. She looked at it intently and pressed it against her chest. Her heart skipped. She felt like an idiot holding a glass bottle of amber liquor like it was a lifeline. Was what she did for a living really that

different from what Jack did? Granted, he hurt people and she cured them. But the underlying reason they did it was for the thrill. Neither was the type to be stuck behind a desk from nine to five twiddling their thumbs. They thrived on action, on stress. The halls of the ER were her boxing arena, as were the makeshift tents in battle-scarred or poverty-stricken countries when she was overseas. Damn, she had been a judgmental fool. Deep down she knew that he’d never hurt her, at least not physically. The question was: was he worth the fight? She closed her eyes and tried to picture a life with Jack. It wasn’t hard. It involved lots and lots of sex. There were worse options. Jack was not Brian. She was not a love-struck teenager following Jack if she decided to decline the job offer in Miami. Even if things didn’t work out with Jack—and God, she hoped they did, because she didn’t know how she would ever recover from a blow like that—Tarpon Springs had been her home, Slade lived there, and that’s where she needed to be. Where she wanted to build her home and put down roots. With the crazies like Esther and Melinda, with the rumor mill that spread stories like wildfire, with the friendly neighbors who remembered your birthday and baked you a pie on Christmas. There was nothing for her in Miami except a job opportunity. It was time to stop running away from her problems, which was exactly what she would be doing if she accepted the job. Eleven years ago she had run away, but

she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Slade was owed a big talk. She needed to make amends. But even more than that, she needed to follow her heart. She needed Jack. She was in love with him, and she needed to go claim her man. Just as quickly as she’d left Tarpon Springs the night before, she jumped out the door and left Miami. She needed to speak with Slade and Jack even if it was a fool’s mission; she couldn’t accept this job until she set things straight. This time she had packed a few more items, stuffed her uncharged cell phone, the unopened charger, and the small bottle of Jack Daniel’s in her oversized purse, and hurried out to her car.

“Do you know her address? Maybe she went back to Miami,” Jack said to Slade. “No, man. All I know is that she moved recently, after returning from India. I have no clue where she lives in Miami. Do you think she went back?” “Dude, you need to keep better tabs on your sister.” “I know, man. I’m just starting to realize that. I’m a self-centered asshole.” “I’m not arguing with you about that,” Jack replied. “Shit, man, I don’t know.” Jack ran his hands across his

face and rubbed his head. He was pacing back and forth. “I fucked up, dude. I shouldn’t have let her go. I should have told her the truth. Why did I listen to you?” “Don’t blame me for this, brother. This is all on you. Anyway, she would’ve gone, regardless. Chrissy is stubborn. There’s no convincing her once she’s made up her mind.” “It must run in the Martin genes.” Jack continued pacing around his house, unable to keep still for a second. “I’m in love with her, Slade.” Slade placed his hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “I know that, brother. I’ve known that for a long time.” “Fuck it. I’m going. Watch Drogo for me.” He threw the front door open. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to find her. Promise me you’ll call if you hear from her.” “I’m going with you,” said Slade. “No, you’re not. Someone needs to stay here and call me if she comes back or if she calls.” “Fine. But let me know if you find her. What are you going to do? Drive down to Miami and then wander around aimlessly shouting her name?” “I’ll knock on every door if that’s what it takes.” Jack was rubbing his head as if that would keep it from exploding. He was a nervous wreck.

Chapter 13 “No. No. No!” Chrissy slammed her fists against the steering wheel. Déjà vu. Except worse, because this time it was raining. She was still two hours away from Tarpon Springs. She dragged a jacket from the backseat, draped it over her head to shield her from the rain, and got out of her car. This time there was no flat tire; her car had just died. And she didn’t even have a working cell phone. It was already eleven-thirty at night, and it was dark. She was in the middle of nowhere. The Everglades were to the right of the two-lane highway, a sea of mangroves and sawgrass to the left. She had two options. One: she could start walking in the torrential rain. It would take her hours to find help. There were also alligators lurking by the mangroves. Imagine, getting eaten by an alligator —no one would ever find her body. She hated reptiles. She started envisioning herself being mauled by a creature of the night. Or she could get hit by a car walking at night by the side of the road. Not to mention the crazies who abducted helpless women. Option two: wait it out. She’d start walking tomorrow at daylight. She didn’t have water or food and she was starved, but there really wasn’t much of a decision to make. First she locked the doors. Then she grabbed her

oversized purse and flipped it upside down over the passenger seat, spilling its contents out, to see what goodies she could find in the mess. She was happy to see a chocolate bar and a small bag of peanuts hidden in the mess. See, a messy purse did have its perks! Luckily, she also had Jack Daniel’s. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the fleshand-bones man she loved and craved, but at least she had the bitter amber liquid to keep her hydrated. Or that’s what she told herself, anyway. Why didn’t she have a bottle of water in her purse? She seemed to have everything else, for goodness sake! So she reclined her seat, cracked a window for ventilation, and took a bite of the dark chocolate and a swig of Jack. And then bright lights flooded the inside of her car and the smell of tires rubbing against asphalt assaulted her, followed by pain and then darkness …

Jack lost count as to how many times he had called her while he drove. The messages he left her ranged from desperate to angry. He was still cringing over one particular sappy message in which he’d professed his love. He hoped it wasn’t too much too soon, but he had to make sure she knew his feelings. But she didn’t call. About two hours into the drive his heart stopped.

Between flashes of lightning, he saw a car on the other side of the road on the opposite lane of the street. It was hard to see because there were no streetlights and the rain was now coming down hard. But he could tell it was Chrissy’s car. Her car was unmistakable. It was the shittiest car he’d ever seen. Note to self: Buy Chrissy a new car with the money I won from the fight—ASAP! Since the road was deserted, he made a quick U-turn, but as he got closer he realized that his worst nightmare had come to life. He barely got the car in park before he jumped out. No, no, no—this can’t be happening! The first thing he noticed was another car, a red pickup truck rolled on its side, half of it immersed among the mangroves and the other half sticking out on the slope of the ditch. He hadn’t spotted it from the other side of the road, partly because the rain was beating down so hard and partly because Chrissy’s car and the slight drop into the ditch hid it from view. He then saw that the entire backside of her car was completely smashed in—anyone who had been sitting in the backseat would be dead. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He walked toward the front of the car, forcing his feet to move. First right, then left, right, left … His knees almost gave out when he saw the front windshield of her car completely shattered and blood on the hood of the car, which was now a mess of dented metal. Never had he felt so scared or helpless. He looked around to see if there were signs of a tow truck or a police officer, but it

seemed that whatever had happened had occurred hours earlier, because they had cleared the scene and taken the victims away. But where? With shaky hands he pulled out his phone and called his office. Barely able to get the words out, he asked Officer O’Donald, the officer on duty, to check with all the nearby authorities and hospitals for a Christine Martin and to call him back immediately with any information. He stood next to the mangled car, water pounding down on him, lightning flashing intermittently, and thunder booming loudly around him. But he didn’t feel, see, or hear any of it. His senses had shut down, and he was functioning in some sort of haze. Not quite numbness, because had he been numb, he wouldn’t have felt the pain and fear that tore through his body. He took a deep breath and braced himself: the next call would be the hardest. Slade picked up on the first ring. “You found her?” “Hey,” Jack said, his voice somber. “Speak up, man. I can barely hear you.” “Sorry. It’s pouring real bad here. Slade … I … uh …” The lump in his throat wasn’t allowing for words. And even if he could speak, he wasn’t sure what to say. “She wouldn’t take your sorry ass back, huh?” Slade teased. “Slade …” His hands shook so violently he could barely keep a grip on the phone. “Uh, man … I found Chrissy’s car about two hours south by the side of the

road.” Jack cleared his throat. “What do you mean, you found her car? Where’s Chrissy?” Slade asked. “Her car … it looks really bad, Slade.” “What are you talking about? Where is she? Where’s my sister?” Slade’s voice grew louder. “I’m going into the nearest town to try to find the local hospital. I have my office trying to locate her too. You need to head down here, man.” “Wait, I don’t understand. She was fine. She was just mad. What are you saying, Jack? This isn’t funny, brother.” “I’m sorry, Slade. I wish I didn’t have to call you to tell you this, but you need to get down here. You need to get down here now.” “How bad?” “Bad.” Jack was a wreck, but he didn’t want to tell Slade just how terrible the scene looked. It wouldn’t help anything, and he needed Slade to make the two-hour drive in one piece. “Tell me, goddammit!” “The windshield’s gone,” he blurted out. “Shit! I’m on my way.” And the phone went dead. Jack stood on the side of the deserted road, soaked, staring at the car. He just couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t wrap his head around it. One minute Chrissy had been safely enveloped in his arms in the ocean, basking in post-sex bliss; the next …

It was too painful to think about the worst-case scenario. As a cop, he’d seen his share of accidents, and he knew how they sometimes ended. This particular scene didn’t look like it had ended well. He hadn’t had a chance to tell her he loved her. Had she already been in the accident when he’d left the message? Had she heard it? “Damn it, Chrissy!” He banged his fists on the top of the car. How could this have happened? Then he noticed something on the floor near the driver’s seat. He stuck his head through the broken window, careful not to cut himself, and pulled it out. When he saw what it was, he had to put his hand on his chest to stop the pain—his heart physically hurt. What he held might as well have been a carefully written love letter. It was a small, half-consumed bottle of Jack Daniel’s. It was like he had been there with her. And the bottle had survived the crash intact. Surely this had to mean something. As fast as he could, he ran to his car, got in, and took off. As he searched for a gas station or someplace he could get directions to the nearest hospital, his phone rang. It was Officer O’Donald. She had located Chrissy’s whereabouts, and gave him the address of the hospital. She explained that all she had been able to find out was that the accident had occurred about two hours ago and the officers and ambulances had reported that Chrissy was alive on arrival but unconscious. Jack quickly

inputted the address into his GPS, thanking God that he was only about fifteen minutes away. He called Slade, gave him the information, said a quick prayer, and hauled ass to find his woman. Jack ran into the emergency room of St. Richard’s Hospital, soaked and slightly hysterical. “I’m looking for Christine Martin.” His foot tapped restlessly against the white linoleum floor as the young man at the reception area, whose name tag said Jonah Andrews, typed something into the computer while talking on a cell phone that he held between his ear and shoulder. Jack wanted to reach over the counter, break the cell phone in two, and shake the computer and Jonah into hurrying up. Instead he just drummed his fingers on the counter anxiously. “Christine Martin,” Jack repeated, but slowly this time. Perhaps Jonah hadn’t heard him. “That’s C-H-R-I —” “Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” Jonah said to Jack, all the while continuing to have a conversation with whoever was on the other line. Jack stopped drumming his fingers and flattened his palms on the counter. He leaned in, his face mere inches from Jonah’s. “Kid, I’ve had a fucking terrible night. Unless you want that phone and that computer shoved up your ass, I suggest you stop pissing around and tell me where I can find Christine Martin.” Immediately Jonah hung up and fumbled nervously on

the computer. “Found her. You are …?” “I’m her …” What the fuck was he? Friend? Boyfriend? Lover? Fuck that! After tonight, he was going to be her boyfriend. It was a fact. She’d never leave him again; this running-away bullshit stopped today! He closed his eyes and said a brief prayer: Please God, let her be alive so that I can shake her until she understands … “Sir?” Jonah asked again. “I’m …” He cleared his throat. “I’m her boyfriend.” “Sorry, sir. I can’t give you any information. Only immediate family. Is there anyone we can call?” Even though he was probably just doing his job, the kid looked smug. Jonah had just landed a sucker punch, and Jack felt it right in the gut. Perhaps if he had been a little more patient thirty seconds ago, the jerk would have given him some news. Jack’s shoulders slumped. He felt defeated. “She doesn’t have family. I’m it. Please, is she okay? Is she in a room? Where is she, goddammit?” “I’m sorry, sir. I really wish I could help you, but I cannot give you any information.” “Please, just go inside and let her know I’m here. I assure you, she’ll tell you it’s all right.” Jonah looked at his screen and didn’t respond. “I can’t …” The thought of Chrissy alone in a hospital room, hurt and scared, sent him over the edge. Jack reached out and

pulled the lapel of Jonah’s shirt forward with such force that half of the guy’s body was now over the counter. “If you don’t fucking tell me where she is, so help me—” Two strong hands grabbed Jack’s shoulders and yanked him back and away from Jonah, but the haze he’d been in for the last forty-five minutes or so prevented him from acknowledging what was truly going on. “Where is she?” Jack yelled. “Calm down, sir,” a deep voice said from behind him, as the man brought both of Jack’s hands high behind his back. In this position, Jack couldn’t turn around to see who held him, but by the strength of the man, he assumed he was one muscular guard, because Jack was not easy to strong-arm. And as unreasonable and relentless as Jack was, the grip was even harder. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” he spat. His chest moved up and down as he heaved in breath after breath. The man pulled him into a nearby room. “Calm down, sir,” he repeated sternly. Jack sucked in ragged breaths. One, two, three … “I’m going to let go now. If you even so much as think of moving, I’ll call the police and they will arrest you and then you’ll have no chance of seeing whomever it is you’re looking for,” the man said, still gripping Jack from behind. Jack nodded. The man slowly released his hold. Jack rubbed his wrists and spun around to look at the guard. He was much older than Jack, but still a brick house—

what the fighting world referred to as “old man strength.” He stood by the door like a bouncer in his dark blue guard uniform, legs spread and arms crossed. Neither said anything for a few minutes. “Now that you’re a bit calmer, will you be assaulting anyone else tonight?” Jack shook his head and said, “No, and I didn’t actually assault him, just got in his face a little.” “Okay. Well, if you’ve calmed yourself, I’ll go see what I can find out for you, and while I’m doing this you are going to go sit in the waiting area and wait. Quietly, okay?” The man’s voice and demeanor were firm. Jack followed him out of the room. The guard said something to Jonah, who looked over at Jack warily. Then he led Jack to the empty waiting area. “What Jonah was trying to tell you before you tried to wring his neck was that he couldn’t ask the patient if you were welcome because she’s unconscious.” Jack opened his mouth to speak, but the man held up two fingers and placed his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Before you say anything else, I don’t know anything further. Jonah doesn’t know anything further either. No one is going to give you any more information, son. With all the privacy laws, you need to be a blood relative. Is there anyone you can call?” Unconscious? Is that what he just said? Jack was thankful there was a chair behind him, because otherwise he would have fallen when he plopped down without

bothering to look first. She had been unconscious when the ambulance had brought her in; he didn’t know what it meant for her to be out for more than two hours, but he was scared. The news shook him. But he needed to keep it together, not just for himself but for Chrissy. His elbows rested on his lap and his hands covered his face. “Yes. Her brother is on his way, but that’ll take about two hours.” The guard nodded in understanding. “These privacy laws are hell.” Jack looked up. “They sure are.” The man gave him an understanding look and squeezed Jack’s shoulder. “I’m going to let you be. I trust you will control that temper of yours.” “Yes. Please, apologize to Jonah on my behalf. I’ll wait in here for Christine’s brother.” The man nodded before walking out. Jack sat in silence for a few minutes, but the room was closing in on him and the small hospital chair was like a vise. He stood up and paced around. The thought of Chrissy waking up alone in that room unnerved him. He should be there, holding her hand, privacy laws be damned! But when another thought made its way to the front of his mind, bile started creeping up his throat and the room started spinning. He’d have her scared and alone a hundred times over than unconscious or even worse … He couldn’t even begin to think of the “even worse.”

He’d known Chrissy for over twenty-five years. Granted, there’d been an eleven-year hiatus, but that was irrelevant, because from the moment their eyes had locked that night on the road, something had changed. The axis of his world had shifted. And what if she woke up and still didn’t want to see him? He had no real claim to her. The what-ifs were starting to consume him. He continued to pace. Calmly, or at least, with whatever calm he could muster, Jack walked down the hall to the reception area and saw that Jonah was still there. When Jack approached, Jonah flinched. “I’m sorry about earlier, man.” Jonah nodded. “I just … is she awake yet? Can you give me any news? Any news at all?” Jack couldn’t remember ever having cried in front of strangers before. Actually, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried at all. But tears pricked the back of his eyes and he choked out the words. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “I’m dying, man. Please. Anything. Is she awake?” Johan nodded and picked up the phone. He said something to someone and hung up. “I called the nurses’ station. She’s still unconscious but her vitals are okay. They will let me know as soon as there’s any news.” Jack cleared his throat again and extended a shaky hand to Jonah, who reluctantly took it. “Thanks, man.” Jack went back to his prison cell and waited. He

paced and prayed and pleaded, paced some more, and then prayed some more. He then heard a commotion from somewhere down the hall, and the guard from two hours earlier burst into the room escorting Slade inside much the same way he’d escorted Jack—just with a little more difficulty. “Get your fucking hands off me!” Slade hissed. “I’m about to call the police and have you arrested. Poor Jonah’s had a hell of a night.” He looked over at Jack. “This one’s with you?” Jack nodded and pointed with his thumb. “The blood relative.” “Figures.” He released Slade, who then turned around to take a look at the man who had secured him. Much like Jack, Slade rubbed his wrists together, feeling the effects of the older man’s iron grip. “Jonah already told you that they’d send out a nurse to speak with you shortly. Stay here until then.” Slade took a step forward, but Jack reached for his forearm and pulled him back. “Control him,” the man said, not intimidated at all by the sheer size of Jack and Slade. Jack nodded, and the guard disappeared. “Get your hands off me.” Slade swung his arm away from Jack’s grip and moved toward the door. “If you get arrested, you’ll never see her. I’ll never see her. We won’t know what’s going on. You are the only one they’ll give information to. So don’t fuck this up with your temper.”

“You mean you haven’t been able to see her?” “No. They won’t let me see her, and they won’t give me any information.” “So all we know is that she was in an accident and she’s unconscious?” Jack nodded. “Fuck! She left because she was pissed off at me. What if …” Slade slumped back into a chair. “No, she left because she was mad at me,” Jack said. “We really screwed up, man.” Jack nodded in agreement. “Royally.” A nurse walked in. Both men sprang up. “Slade Martin?” Slade took a step forward. “I’m Marlene Muller. The attending nurse on duty. Can we have a word?” “Yes, of course.” The nurse glanced at Jack and gave him an apologetic smile. “In private.” Slade looked back at Jack and then followed the nurse out the door. Jack waited what seemed to be an eternity. Finally he could stand it no longer and walked out of the small room. He was surprised to not find Slade there. He thought he’d been speaking with the nurse outside. Again Jack waited, paced, prayed, and paced some more until Slade finally returned, white as a ghost. “What happened? Where were you?” “The nurse took me up to see her.” Slade slumped

down into the chair. “God, she looks bad.” Jack clutched the sides of the chair, his eyes watering, but he let Slade continue. “The doctor said that the next twenty-four hours are critical. She hit her head real bad. Her face is all scratched up and bruised.” Slade turned to Jack. “Say something.” “I think I’m having a heart attack.” Jack clutched his chest; he was drenched in a cold sweat, and his vision tunneled. The pain he felt was unbearable; he felt suffocated by the force of it. Slade crouched down in front of Jack and grabbed his shoulders. “Breathe, man. In and out. Slowly. Breathe. I need you, man. Chrissy needs you. You need to get your shit together because I can’t do this on my own. What would she need me to do? You know her better than I do. You always have. Please, Jack, pull yourself together.” Slade was right. He did know her best. He took some calming breaths, his eyes closed, and silently said another prayer. Slade stood and left the room; Jack assumed it was Slade’s way of giving him some space to compose himself. A few minutes later, Slade came back with a duffel bag. “Go change. You’re soaked. I had my gym bag with clean clothes in my car.” He handed the bag over to Jack, who went to the nearest bathroom and changed into the dry clothes. “She’s strong, Slade. She’ll make it. She will. I have too many things to say to her and she can’t … She’ll

make it,” Jack said as soon as he reentered the room. Slade nodded and started for the door, but then he turned around and hugged Jack. Not a half hug or a pat on the shoulder, like men usually do, but a real hug. One that said everything they couldn’t verbalize. When Slade finally walked out, both men’s eyes were moist. Jack braced himself for a long, torturous wait, but Slade was back fifteen minutes later. “Come on. I explained that you’re family and you need to see her.” Jack stood and squeezed Slade’s forearm before following him out. Chrissy lay in a room partitioned with a flimsy curtain. If it hadn’t been for the tubes and the beeps from the equipment—which made him nervous—he’d have thought she was asleep. Her black hair fell around her shoulders, and even bruised, she was beautiful. His Sleeping Beauty. He leaned forward and ran his knuckles along her cheeks. A tear slipped from his eye. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. What I wouldn’t give to be the one here instead of you. I need you to be strong and wake up, okay? I need to tell you that I love you, face-to-face. I need to hear you giggle. I need you to fight with me about something silly. I need you to get Drogo to stop growling at me. I just … need you. Please,” he whispered, tears falling. He didn’t care who heard him or who saw him. Slade sat on the side of the bed. He wanted to hold her hand, but because of her IV he couldn’t. The doctor

walked in and spoke with them about her condition. Chrissy was breathing on her own, though weakly. Ironically, her worst injury was the concussion she’d sustained from hitting the windshield. He told them that they had done all they could; it was up to her to wake up on her own. He and his team didn’t think she was in a coma, but he said that it could take hours, days, or even weeks for Chrissy to wake up. Both men sat quietly by her bed just watching her breathe. An hour later, the doctor was back, explaining that she needed to be monitored around the clock for the next twenty-four hours. He also added that according to the police, the driver of the pickup truck had lost control due to the rain and hit her car, which was sitting by the side of the road without any lights. The other man was fine and had already been discharged. Jack expected to feel bitterness toward the other driver, but he realized it wasn’t the guy’s fault. It was never safe to be on the side of the road without lights, especially in the rain. And right now Jack just couldn’t feel anger. There wasn’t room in his heart for it. He simply wanted Chrissy to wake up, so he sat by her side and waited … and waited …

Chapter 14 He stood in front of the mirror as he adjusted his black tie. He’d decided on his best black suit and matched it with a crisp white shirt. How his life had changed in the last seventy-two hours. Slade walked into Jack’s bedroom, also in a black suit and white shirt, but he had opted for no tie. “What’s up with you?” Slade asked. “You ready to go?” “No. Not yet.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I still can’t believe everything that’s happened.” “I know. Tell me about it.” “With all that’s happened, this is the last place I want to go.” “I know, but you have to. Just relax. It’s just a small reception in your honor. Chrissy would never forgive you if you missed it. You don’t have to stay long. Brother, you just made the most significant arrest in the history of Tarpon Springs, and you were promoted to lieutenant. You have to go. Chrissy would want you to.” Jack nodded somberly, and both men left. The reception was at the Pier. It was just a small group of men from his precinct and their significant others. How he wished Chrissy were there—his significant other. Instead, he had brought Slade. Since

Jessica was still recovering and therefore wasn’t yet working, the bartender on shift that evening was Jamie Lynn. Slade sat at the bar talking to her, and after Jack made a quick round of the guests, engaging in a little small talk, he sat at one of the high-tops overlooking the ocean. The weather was warm and sticky, as it normally was in Florida. He pulled on his collar, lost in thought as he nursed a beer. “You’re so broody all the time. Cheer up, Daniels. This is your party, for goodness’ sake.” Jack swung his head around. “What are you doing here?” His eyes were wide with concern as he rushed to Chrissy’s side and led her to the closest seat. “After much begging, Dr. Stevens okayed my discharge a day early. I had to promise that I wouldn’t dance the night away. I wanted to surprise you. It’s a big day—you should celebrate, Lieutenant.” “Baby, you shouldn’t be here. You should be resting. I felt bad enough leaving you at the hospital today. You shouldn’t be on your feet.” “Actually, he said I should start walking more than just around the halls of the hospital. I’m not made of glass; I’ll be fine being here with you for a few hours.” Jack beamed. “Aren’t you happy not to have to sleep on that awful hospital room chair-bed thing? Not that you had to stay with me these last few days,” she said to Jack.

“I wasn’t going to leave your side. I wish I’d known you were coming home—I would have set up the spare room downstairs for us.” Chrissy laughed. “About that. I don’t think—” Jack covered her mouth with his fingers, “Woman, if you are about to tell me you aren’t staying with me, you’re not staying in Tarpon Springs, or any of that bullshit, I swear to God, I … I … I don’t even know what I’d do. Now that you’re fully recovered, you’re staying with me and that’s it. I’m not putting up with your brother’s need to finally be brotherly again. It was a fight to get him to leave and let me stay with you at the hospital. I can just imagine how difficult he’ll be if I have to stay with you at his house.” “Yeah, he’s acting strange. Very attentive. What happened? We haven’t even had a chance to talk about the accident. I don’t even know what—” “We’ll talk later, okay?” He drew her into his arms, and she nodded. “You look breathtaking, by the way.” Chrissy pulled away and guffawed. “Yeah, with all my cuts and scrapes, not to mention the bruises on my forehead, I’m real attractive,” she said as she touched her head. “To me you are breathtaking, Chrissy.” She smiled. Together, they enjoyed the party until Jack insisted he had to get her home. Less than two hours later, Jack was driving Chrissy home. Slade had decided to stay at the party, since it was

far from over, even though the guest of honor had decided to leave. “We didn’t have to leave so soon, Jack.” “Yes, we did. You’re still hurting, and you were just released from the hospital. I don’t care what your doctor said—you should be in bed, resting.” “Really, Jack, I’m fine.” His hand rested on her thigh, and as he drove them home in silence, his thoughts drifted to the hellish hours Chrissy had lain on that hospital bed. He hadn’t left her side for a second. He’d driven everyone in the hospital crazy asking questions and making requests to ensure that she was comfortable and that she was receiving the best care possible. He remembered how he and Slade sat by her side for hours, impatiently waiting. Then, about five hours after the accident, her head slowly turned toward him, her eyes just barely open. “Chrissy? Baby?” He pushed the Call button as he spoke. “Jack,” she croaked. “Wh-what happened?” “You were in an accident. You’ve been unconscious.” Her brow furrowed. “My head hurts.” He pushed the button again. “Try not to move, honey. The nurse is on her way, and she’ll give you something for the pain.” “Jack?” “Shh. It’s okay, baby. I’m here.”

Slade took her hand. “Chrissy! Thank God, Chrissy.” She slowly turned her head toward his, and Slade gave her a reassuring smile. Jack noticed the mist in his friend’s eyes. The nurse came in and checked Chrissy’s vitals, then gave her some medicine for the pain and told them she’d page the doctor. Jack stroked Chrissy’s hair and held one hand while Slade held the other. He tried to reassure her as much as possible that everything would be okay, even if he himself wasn’t sure.

Once they arrived at Jack’s house, he settled her on his couch. Drogo immediately jumped up and nestled in right by her hip. “I can see the wheels turning,” he said to her. “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to talk since the accident. What do you want to talk about?” “Tell me what happened. How’d you find me?” Jack recounted how he’d gone to look for her and had seen her car by the side of the road. How’d he found the bottle of Jack Daniel’s on the floor. How no one at the hospital would initially give him any information. “Wow. Looks like I really put you through the wringer, huh?” “That’s an understatement.”

“I was driving back to Tarpon Springs, but my car died and my cell phone’s battery wasn’t charged.” “That explains a lot.” “I need a new phone, by the way. I don’t know where mine went.” She was rubbing Drogo’s belly as she spoke. “I have it. It’s with your purse and other belongings that Slade was given at the hospital. As for your car, well, that’s totaled. You needed a new one anyway. I hated that fucking car.” She leaned forward, cradled his face with her hands, and kissed him gently on the lips. She remembered seeing the look of dread on Jack’s face when she had awoken. After that she’d been on a lot of pain medication because of all her injuries, so they hadn’t been able to have this conversation until now. But she did remember how, as she drifted in and out of a medicated haze, he’d stroked her hair, caressed her face with the back of his hand, then bent down and given her a kiss on the lips. She remembered feeling as if she were being kissed for the first time. It had been awkward due to the hospital bed and all the equipment around her, but it had also been tender and soothing, and at that moment she’d loved him more than she’d ever loved anyone in her life. She’d wanted to tell him that. She’d wanted to scream it to the world, but instead she’d smiled up at him. He’d rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, and that was all she remembered. “Chrissy, you drive me crazy. I don’t know if I’m

coming or going with you,” he said now. “But you know you can’t just kiss me like that. I’m gonna want more. With you, it’s always more, baby. But you’re still so fragile, so let’s keep a little distance, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” He pulled her to his chest carefully and kissed her softly, just the way he’d done at the hospital. “Oh, you’re definitely coming.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Get it?” She giggled as if she’d just said the funniest thing ever. He barked out a laugh as he got up to retrieve something from the kitchen. “Lie down on the couch, beautiful girl, before you do or say something you’ll regret. By the way, Drogo missed you—he’s been bitchier than usual. He’s been moping around the house so much that I was actually able to pet him without him trying to bite off my finger.” Jack smiled. “Here’s your stuff, by the way. I charged your phone.” He handed her a bag of things. “Do you think you can stay out of trouble while I’m upstairs? I want to take a shower and get out of this monkey suit.” “I’m not going to break, Jack. I’ll be fine.” “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Jack strode away, and Chrissy went through the bag. A lot of the items were ruined from the rain that had gotten into the car from the broken windows. She looked at her phone, which now had even more cracks but seemed to be working just fine. She turned it on and saw she had a dozen texts and a number of messages from the night of

the accident. A few were from Slade, but mostly they were from Jack. She put the phone on speaker and started going through her voicemails. About ten messages in, Jack came downstairs in a pair of flannel pajama pants and no shirt. He settled in next to her. The next message came on. It was another one from Jack. “Chrissy, I’m on my way to Miami. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt before you left. I’m sorry I let you leave … again. I wanted to say this in person, but you’re not answering the phone. Chrissy, you are the bravest woman I’ve ever met. You saved Jessica’s life. Had you not gone to speak with her, she’d still be in an abusive relationship. You, Chrissy— you—gave her the courage to stand up for herself. To fight. To go to the police. She’ll be safe because of you. Had she stayed, who knows what would have happened. You also saved your brother’s ass, once again. All charges have been dropped. You’re so brave, honey. And I need you to be brave and come back to me. I love you, Chrissy. I love you more than I ever thought possible. Maybe I even loved you back then. Hell, I don’t know. I just remember that it bothered me to see you hanging out with the assholes your brother and I hung around with. I didn’t want to see you go down that road. I wanted you safe, and the shit your brother and I did wasn’t safe. It was stupid and reckless. You were always so smart, and I wanted to see you get out of this small

town and make a big life for yourself. I’m even sorry for all those times when we were younger and I dragged you home when I found you somewhere I thought you didn’t belong. I saw how you were slowly turning into a beautiful young woman and the guys were starting to take notice and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want anyone else looking at you like that. You were this silly little prissy girl who hung on every word Slade and I said, and in the blink of an eye you had transformed into a beautiful girl who had stopped following us around. I don’t know what to say. I shouldn’t have lied about Slade, but I didn’t want you to go to the fight. I did it to keep you safe. You have to know that. Shit, that’s what I should have said to you yesterday, not that macho shit about not having to ask permission. I know I’m rambling, but I need you to call me. And don’t pretend you don’t feel something for me. This wasn’t just about sex. You may not love me like I love you, but I will prove to you that we belong together. I’ll stop fighting. I’ll even quit my job and get a safe desk job. Whatever you want, baby. Anything. God, listen to me. I’m such a pussy. Chrissy, you’ve turned me into a blubbering mess. I love you, Chrissy. Plus, if you don’t come back, Drogo will be stuck with my shitty cooking and he’ll get depressed and run away. I swear, that damn dog’s competing with me. He loves you and only listens to you. Please call me.” When the call ended, her eyes were teary. She glanced over at him. He looked nervous. Neither of them spoke

for some time. Maybe, she thought, he was regretting those words; maybe it had been his fear talking that night, and now that the adrenaline rush had passed, maybe he didn’t feel the same anymore. At last she spoke. “Jack—” “Wait, Chrissy. Let me say something.” He tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “That message was a mistake.” Her lips quivered, but her eyes remained locked onto his. She braced herself for the inevitable—he was going to say he didn’t mean it. He didn’t love her. He had just been caught in the moment. “You don’t need to explain—” “It was a mistake, Chrissy, because I shouldn’t have waited for you to leave to tell you. I should have looked you in the eyes and told you. So I’m doing it now.” He leaned in closer, and her heart fluttered. “I love you, Christine Martin. If something had happened to you, I don’t know what I would’ve done, because I can’t imagine a world where you’re not in it. Where I don’t get to see your beautiful face every day. I am so sorry for lying to you. I meant everything I said. I’ll quit my job if that makes you feel safer. Just please, don’t ever feel scared around me. I will always keep you safe. And whatever it takes, I’ll show you that you can trust me.” She sniffled. “You lied to me. Never lie to me again, Jack.” “So we’re having this conversation now, huh? I just declared my undying love to you, and just a few days

ago you were in a horrific accident, which took years off my life, yet you still want to chat about Slade’s fight. God, you’re a pain in the ass, but I love you, so let’s do this.” He smiled. “I know it seems moot at this point, but I want you to promise me.” “Chrissy, I promise you, I will never lie to you again.” “Jack, you know why I was coming back? I was driving back because I wanted to tell you how sorry I was for comparing you to Brian. You are nothing like him. You’d never hurt me. In fact, you’re always rescuing me, even from things you shouldn’t. I know that now.” She leaned in toward him and kissed him slowly, then pulled back. “I love you, Jack. So much. And it isn’t because you stayed with me at the hospital and took care of me and worried about me and protected me. I fell in love with you before that. I was coming back from Miami to tell you that. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it, Jack, but I love you.” “And here I thought you kept me around just so you’d have someone to help change all the flat tires you seem to get.” “Ha ha.” Jack smiled his beautiful dimpled smile. “Chrissy, those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard.” He draped his arms around her and hugged her gently, still careful of her injuries. “Chrissy, I know you don’t approve of my hobby, and

I know we fight …” “A lot.” He smiled. “Yes. We fight a lot. But there’s no one else I’d rather fight with than you. In fact, maybe it’s time to retire and fight exclusively with you. You’re worth it.” “I wouldn’t want you to stop doing something you love.” “I wouldn’t stop doing something I love. I’d start doing someone I love.” She snorted. “Oh my God, that was so corny and perverted all at the same time.” “You bring it out in me.” “No, seriously, Jack. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. I’ll support your fighting if that’s something you want to do. I realized in Miami that you and I aren’t that different. I suppose I can see why you like that adrenaline rush. For me, it’s being in an exotic country or in a fast-paced ER helping people, and for you it’s in the ring. I’m not going to lie—I don’t enjoy watching you get hurt—but I understand that you work hard for it and you love it. So as long as you can tolerate a nervous girlfriend on the sidelines with my backpack ready for action, I can handle it.” “I love that you just said ‘girlfriend.’ And yes, I can tolerate that. You know … there are hospitals and clinics here too. Don’t take the job in Miami, Chrissy. Stay here, in Tarpon Springs, with me.” “I didn’t take the job in Miami.”

“So you’ll stay?” “If my brother doesn’t mind me moving back home, yeah, I’ll stay.” Drogo’s tail wagged faster and faster. He must have understood what Chrissy had just agreed to. “No. Not at your brother’s. Here, at my house, with me and Drogo. You’re staying with me.” “Okay.” “Okay?” “You sound surprised, Daniels.” “I am. You never do anything I ask of you.” “Well, this time I guess you win. I’ll stay.” She smiled, but a second later began yawning. “Come on, baby. It’s been a long day. Let’s get you to bed.” “Bed.” She smiled dreamily. “My bed.” “Yes, baby. Your bed in your new home.” He picked her up and began walking upstairs with her as she nuzzled her face into his neck. “It’s been a long time since I felt like I had a home.” “Well, get used to it, ’cause this is home.” That was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep.

“Jack, baby, can you come here please?” Chrissy was lying naked in his bathtub. He tried to swallow, but nothing happened. “Y-yes?” “Can you wash my back, please?” He walked over and grabbed the sponge and soap. “Chrissy, honey, are you trying to seduce me again?” “Jack,” she whined, “it’s been over a week and you haven’t so much as touched me.” Jack laughed as he began to wash her back. “Chrissy, I don’t think you can handle me touching you just yet. You’re still not completely healed.” “But—” Just then there was a knock at the front door. “That’s Slade. Get dressed and come downstairs. He’s been coming around to talk to you every day, but I haven’t wanted anyone to upset you, so I told him he couldn’t talk to you about … you know, things just yet. But since you’re recovered enough to want to have sex, you’re recovered enough to talk to your big brother.”

Chrissy let out a groan. “I’m not in the mood to be scolded.” “I think you’ll be surprised when you hear what he has to say.” He handed her a towel. “Meet you downstairs.” Chrissy dried herself off, got dressed, and hesitantly

walked downstairs. Slade was sitting at the dining room table. “Hey there.” Slade stood as soon as he saw her. “Jack?” “Went for a jog by the beach. Probably to give us some privacy.” She nodded. “Sit with me?” Slade pointed to the chair next to his. “Of course.” Chrissy sat down, and Slade did the same. As soon as Slade opened his mouth to speak, Drogo began to growl. “Drogo!” she said sternly. “Time out, boy. Stop growling at Slade. Go upstairs.” Slade laughed. “He’s not a person, Chris, he isn’t going to—” And then the pup, his tail literally between his legs, his tiny face dejected, moped all the way upstairs. “Wow. That was just … wow.” “I have to see if I can get him to like you. He really doesn’t seem too fond of you, though. It will be a challenge,” she said, and smiled. “You look better. This bruise here”—his finger grazed a bruise under her eye—“looked worse yesterday. You scared the shit out of me, Chris. When Jack called and said you’d been in an accident, I thought … well, I thought so many things.” He took a deep breath before he continued, “Jack told me you told him about Brian and Dad.” She nodded but didn’t say anything. “Listen, Chris, I think you’ve got the wrong impression about what happened all those years ago.”

“What do you mean?” She couldn’t help tearing up. She wasn’t in the mood to be reprimanded about her actions. When would she finish serving her penance? “I know I caused everything. I know that Dad is dead because of me. I don’t need you to remind me, Slade. I have to live with that for the rest of my life. I don’t know what else to do to make things better between us. At the funeral, you told me how you felt. I get it. Really, I do. I don’t need you to tell me again.” He put his hand on her mouth to shut her up. He wasn’t normally much of a talker or a serious guy, and seeing him so somber made her uneasy. “God, you’re always so doom and gloom,” he told her. “Listen to me for a moment. Jack told me about the conversation you and I had at Dad’s funeral. Chris, why have you held that in for so many years? You should have talked to me about it. I swear to God, Chrissy, I don’t remember saying all those horrible things to you. I don’t believe them. If I said it, it was out of anger and ’cause I was a drunk jerk. But I didn’t mean it. I spent two weeks completely obliterated. If it had alcohol, I drank it. It was stupid, but I was stupid. I didn’t know how to cope, so I thought it would be easier to be numb. When I finally sobered up, you were gone and I was alone. Over ten years ago I lost my sister and my father on the same day. I know you think I was a shitty brother, and maybe I was, but, sis, you were kind of shitty too. I mean, I called you a lot, but you were never around. I know you

traveled all over the world, but you didn’t keep in touch. In fact, I think I called you more than you called me.” “I thought you blamed me. Every time I saw that you had called, I was waiting for you to remind me what I did to you. To us. To Dad.” “I didn’t blame you, Chris. How could I? Yeah, I was mad at you for keeping the Brian thing a secret. I was mad at you for not letting me go kick his ass. But none of it was your fault. Not one damn thing. Dad and I did the best we could with you. Mom died when you were only two years old. She was fine one day and then she discovered the breast cancer and within a month she was gone. Suddenly Dad had this little girl to raise, and as you and I grew up, I felt I had to protect you, but I didn’t really know how. I didn’t have any women in my life to guide me, and you were such a pain in the ass sometimes, always wanting to hang around when I wanted to keep you away from my troublemaking—and keep you out of harm’s way. I’d already lost Mom, and I didn’t want to lose you too. I guess I went about it the wrong way. Instead of keeping you safe, I pushed you away. I wasn’t good at the ‘I love you’ stuff and the hugs and all the other girl things you probably needed. But that didn’t mean I didn’t love you then, or that I don’t love you now.” “You didn’t push me away. I thought you hated me. I thought you saw me as a pest. And when Dad died because of me … because I came back and told him

about Brian …” “You’re my little sister, Chris. I never wanted you to leave, and I certainly didn’t blame you for Dad’s death.” She sniffled. “We should’ve had this talk a long time ago, huh?” “Yeah. We should’ve. God, Chrissy, I was so scared. I thought you were going to die and I would never be able to tell you that I loved you and that I was sorry for being a shitty brother.” Just then they heard the door open and close. Jack came in and leaned against the doorframe. He smiled, and she returned it. But she had to finish this conversation with her brother. That was the most important thing at the moment. “I’m sorry for leaving, Slay … both times. And I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m fine now. Really. I am. You don’t have to worry about me.” She looked over to Jack. “You haven’t called me that in years,” her brother told her. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry for being such a crappy brother and for calling you to fix my stupid mistakes. I was mad you left, and I guess I did take advantage of you by asking you to bail me out of my problems all those times. I see why you assumed I blamed you. You deserved better from me. I’m the older brother, and I should’ve been there to take care of you. I love you, sis. And I’d like you to come home for good. Isn’t there a place you can work here in town? At least when you’re not traveling?” “I didn’t renew my contract. I won’t be traveling

anymore,” said Chrissy. “You didn’t?” “No. I didn’t. I got a job offer in Miami and was thinking about accepting it. In fact, I was meeting with them the day of the accident. I’d decided to come back here instead of accepting the position.” “You didn’t accept it?” Slade repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it. She shook her head. “I’m staying here, with Jack.” She glanced at her man, standing by the door. He gifted her with his dimpled smile. “It’s about damn time. I saw this happening twenty years ago,” Slade said, pointing at the two of them. “Now I’m going to head out and check up on Jessica. We good?” Slade asked Chrissy. “Never better,” she replied. Slade reached toward Chrissy for a hug and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Glad we had this talk.” “Me too. Bye, Slay.”

“So …,” Jack said as he sat on the couch flipping through the TV channels. “So …,” Chrissy said back. “Are you just going to sit there all day looking hot?”

“You think I’m hot?” Chrissy grabbed one of the decorative pillows from the couch and threw it playfully at him. “I guess you really are starting to feel better.” He leaned closer to her and placed a kiss on her head. “Jack, I’m fine. Seriously, I’ve been home over two weeks. Dr. Stevens gave me the all-clear just this morning. I can’t believe you won’t sleep with me.” Chrissy inched her way closer to him, tracing his jaw with her finger, kissing his neck. Even though the bruises were almost gone—all that remained were some yellowish patches around her cheekbone—she still looked so fragile, Jack thought. He wanted her, of course. Honestly, he’d wanted her the day she came home from the hospital, but what kind of sick fuck wants to screw his beautiful girlfriend the day she gets released from the hospital all battered and bruised? This sick bastard did! But that was something he was going to keep to himself. She still had dull headaches almost daily. He didn’t think she was ready to make love, and he was terrified of hurting her. But if there was one thing he knew about Chrissy, it was that when she set her mind to something, she was relentless. Her teeth nibbled his neck and kissed behind his ear. The little minx snuck her hand under his shirt and traced his chest with her nails. She was on her knees on the couch right next to him, her body inching closer and closer, her hands running up and down his chest and

her mouth exploring every inch of his neck up to his jaw and then his mouth. Her hands found his nipple and she pinched. “Ah, hell. You sure you’re up for this, Chrissy? Because that pinch went straight to my dick, and now I don’t know if I can say no.” She continued to kiss him. “Then don’t say no,” she whispered. He didn’t hesitate, and stood up with her in his arms. She laughed. “I can walk.” “You can, but that’s no fun.” When they got to his bedroom, he looked at the happy dog who was standing by the door wagging. “Sorry, my man. I got the girl. Today you stay outside.” He stuck his tongue out at Drogo before closing the door with his foot. The dog growled. He gently stood Chrissy up in front of his bed, and they slowly undressed each other. “How okay do you feel, exactly?” Jack asked. “Very okay. As long as you’re okay with my limited mobility and very unattractive bruises.” She pointed at her head. “There’s nothing unattractive about you. But I’ll be careful and extra gentle.” Once they were fully naked, he laid her on his bed and stared down at the woman he loved. “Your eyes are so blue right now.” He kissed one of her eyelids and then the other. Then he moved down to her neck. Her arms

ran down his back softly as he moved lower. “You have the most perfect breasts I’ve ever seen.” He bent down, put his mouth on one nipple, and nipped. Her body arched into him, and the soft caressing strokes on his back became incessant clawing. When he was finished with one breast, he moved to the other, but continued twisting and pinching the nipple of the one he’d just fondled. When both nipples were red and pointy, he trailed kisses down her body. He put his hand between her legs and stroked gently. “I love how you’re always wet for me.” His words were as arousing as his tongue and hands. He parted her legs wider and began stroking. When she started writhing under him he made his way back up her body and gently drove his erection into her. She squirmed and moaned under him. “I want to make love to you. The last times have been amazing, but this time we are going to take it nice and slow.” Chrissy felt her desire mount to unbearable levels. “I don’t think I can. I need you to—” He hushed her. “Just close your eyes and go with it.” Then he kissed her forehead and then her lips. Jack looked at her like no man had ever looked at her before. Her arms went around his neck and she held on. He moved in and out of her slowly, creating the most agonizingly exquisite tension. She felt her climax start to build, but he was going so slowly that it just continued building. She needed the release he wasn’t allowing her to get. He whispered loving words into her ear as he

gyrated into her. In and out. Swirling his hips around. “Christ! I need more, Jack.” She wrapped her legs around his waist. Their hips rocked together, and each pass along her clitoris elicited a moan, her nails digging deeper into his flesh. Jack reached behind him, released her fingers from his back, and kissed each finger one by one. With one of his hands he pulled both of her arms above her head and gently held them there. She was essentially immobilized. He shifted, completely flush against her body, and pressed his mouth against her lips again. His tongue softly caressed the corners of her lips. Nothing more than a whisper against her mouth. All her female parts tingled. He moved to her neck, kissing, licking, and snaked his free hand around Chrissy’s waist, pulling her even closer to him, adjusting their angle. Her body arched in response. She squirmed beneath him and thrust into him in rhythm. “Oh, baby. That feels so good,” said Jack, increasing the pace of his thrusts. He was inside her, moving in and out of her, for what felt like days. The slow buildup increased the tension to unimaginable levels. She felt when his resolve to keep a slow pace snapped and he began pounding faster and harder into her. She matched him thrust for thrust in a perfect rhythm. Her eyes rolled back from pleasure. “You’re about to come,” he murmured. “I can feel it. Your wet pussy is tightening around my dick.”

She secretly loved when he talked like that. Although, she thought, it wasn’t a secret—he knew it drove her crazy. His words drove her past the edge, and the climax she experienced was the most intense of her life, even more so than the previous ones Jack had provided. She cried out his name over and over as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her. One last thrust and Jack followed her to oblivion. Pure exhaustion from the ecstasy overtook their bodies. She was drunk from his kisses and lovemaking, and she cradled his head on her stomach as sleep consumed them. Minutes, hours, days later … time had ceased to exist. “Hey, Jack. Can I ask you a question?” She was drawing circles lazily on his chest. “Anything,” he croaked. “I was just thinking—if you hate the name Jack so much, why don’t you just have people call you John?” He burrowed his head in her chest and groaned. “What?” she asked, amused. “My real name isn’t John. It’s Jack. Jack Daniels is my legal name.” Chrissy let out a snort and then started giggling uncontrollably. “Are you laughing at me?” His tone was serious, but she could see that he was trying to hide a little smirk. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you. Really, I don’t. But, what were your parents thinking?” She was

still laughing. “What can I say? My parents are a little eccentric. That’s their favorite drink. They thought it was a cool name. It’s a man’s drink. Real men drink whiskey. I’ll have you know Jack Daniels is a very manly name.” “Oh, poor baby. That’s just—wrong.” She was laughing so hard she couldn’t catch her breath. “Stop laughing at me or I’ll give you something to laugh about. You know, people refer to Jack Daniel’s as ‘Gentleman Jack.’ If you’re going to start making fun of me, then you should start calling me Gentleman Jack.” But she couldn’t stop. It was like the floodgates had opened. She laughed so hard she was gasping for air. “You, sir, are no gentleman,” she said at last, poking his chest. He was so muscular, it was like poking iron. Lust filled his eyes. “Oh, baby, you are so right about that. I am certainly no gentleman.” In one swift move, he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. He held her hands together on his chest as he started tickling her ribs. “Jack! Jack! Stop!” she gasped. “Can’t breathe!” “Promise to stop teasing me?” She nodded. “Say it.” She tried to speak, but he kept tickling her, and she couldn’t get any words out. “God, I love your laugh.” She finally stopped laughing when he leaned up and

kissed her neck. “Stop.” Kiss. “Calling.” Kiss. Kiss. Lick. “Me.” Lick. Lick. Lick. “Jack.” Kiss. Lick. Suck. Kiss. “Daniels.” She nodded, suddenly serious. And for the next hour Jack proceeded to show Chrissy all the ways he was no gentleman. At last they lay in bed, completely spent. “I’m crazy in love with you, Christine Martin. There’s no one I’d rather fight with, and I can’t wait to do so for the rest of our lives.” “And I can’t wait to perform stupidectomies on you for the rest of our lives. I love you, Jack.”

Epilogue Two months later … Jack came home after a hellish day at work. He was tired, grimy, and quite frankly bitchy. It was the middle of the night, and he didn’t want to wake Chrissy. But his keys clinked against the metal of the doorknob slightly, just enough to send Drogo into a yapping frenzy. Quickly he closed the door behind him, crouched down, and whisper-shouted at Drogo to shut up. When the dog saw it was just Jack, he growled one last time, showing his tiny sharp teeth, and lazily wandered back up to the bedroom. Quietly Jack unfastened his shirt, then threw it in the basket in the laundry room. He was just about to turn on the kitchen light when Chrissy walked in and crashed right into him. “Holy shit!” Jack exclaimed, clutching his chest. “Thank God I didn’t still have my gun on me. You scared me half to death, woman.” “Sorry. I heard the barking.” She reached up on the tips of her toes to greet him with a proper and chaste kiss. However, kisses with Jack were never chaste … or proper. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in closer. Her feet left the floor and her back arched. She was mostly healed, except for a few minor scars that were barely visible. She was the Chrissy he’d

known before the accident. She let out an involuntary moan. “Sorry for waking you,” he mumbled into her neck. “I was awake,” she said with a sigh. His mouth still nuzzled her neck. He pulled back and bent down slightly to look at her face. “Why? Everything okay?” The clock showed it was well past two in the morning. “You sick, baby?” His voice was full of concern. She grunted. “No. I was bored here alone, and so I started watching that television show you love, Game of Thrones. I wanted to see about this Drogo character you named our poor little puppy after. One thing led to another, and I’ve watched the entire first season.” “Oh, really?” He held her tighter. “You think you can wear that tiny outfit the blond lady wears for Drogo, my little Khaleesi?” His eyebrows shot up. “Oh my sun and stars, you really are a pervert.” She shoved him back playfully. “And a nerd. I’m going to start calling you ‘Geek of Thrones.’ ” She laughed hard and even slapped her knee. He loved when she laughed at her own dumb jokes as if they were actually hysterical. “Nerd? Please! You’ve been up all night watching the same show. I guess you’re a nerd too.” “No, I’ve mostly been watching that Drogo character. Man, he’s really hot!” Jack let out a deep growl, which made Chrissy giggle.

“Oh, don’t be jealous, baby. It’s just a little television crush. It’s nothing compared to my romance-novel boyfriends. Now those guys are hot!” she teased. “Come on, woman, let’s go to bed before I strip you naked and have my way with you right here on the kitchen counter.” Chrissy waggled her eyebrows. “Well, in that case … I think I’ll tease you some more.”

Jack lunged forward and picked Chrissy up, intending to make good on his promise. The kitchen counter never stood a chance. The next morning, Chrissy was serving Jack a late breakfast when Slade strolled in excitedly, sending Drogo into a frenzy of barking. “I have great news.” He slammed a bunch of papers down on the table, almost causing Jack’s orange juice to spill. “Hey! Watch it.” Jack slid his glass to the other side of his plate. “What’s up?” Chrissy rounded the corner, and Slade looked up and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Hey, sis. Can you please lock up this damn dog? It almost bit off my thumb last week.” “Come on, cutie, Uncle Slay’s scared of the itty-bitty

puppy.” Chrissy picked up the dog and took him upstairs. “Itty-bitty puppy, my ass,” Slade grumbled. “He’s a quarter pit bull, dude. I’ve told you a million times.” “I’m starting to buy your pit bull bullshit, brother.” Slade lifted up his injured thumb and pouted. “Please, my little Chihuahua is just that—a tiny little Chihuahua. Man up, guys,” Chrissy scolded the men as she reentered the kitchen. “Anyway, what’s all the excitement and all these papers?” She began to browse through them. “Mauricio’s looking for a partner for his gym. He gave me all the paperwork to look at. I was at Tim’s office this morning—” “Tim the attorney?” Jack asked. “Yeah. He looked over the paperwork, and everything seems to be good. I’m thinking of doing it. Buying half the interest in the gym. I’m there all the time anyway.” “Is that the gym where you guys train?” Chrissy asked. Both men nodded. “Yes, that place seems like it does well. Don’t lots of guys train there?” “How would you know?” Slade asked. “I … um …” She’d never told him about spying on him that day through the window. Jack saved her. “She came with me last week,” he lied, then grabbed the paperwork and looked it over. “Bro, I can’t believe you’re going to own WtF!

Awesome,” Jack said. “Well, own part of it, anyway.” Chrissy let out an amused snort. “You should rename it. It sounds like you’re cursing in acronyms.” “No, way,” he said. “WtF Academy is practically an institution. Plus, Mauricio would flip the fuck out if I changed it. What the Fuck or Worth the Fight, either way works for me.” “I guess What the Fuck Academy has a certain ring to it,” Jack said. “Think about it. What the fuck was the owner thinking naming a place What the Fuck?” “Funny, jerk-off. Anyway, I can’t believe the old man wants a partner,” Slade said. “I can’t let the opportunity pass me by. His daughter Francesca is coming from Brazil to run the business side but wants nothing to do with the fighter and training side. Mauricio’s health has been deteriorating and he wants to retire. They’re looking for someone to help revamp the place and bring in some new equipment, since they’ve signed some pretty well-known fighters to train.” “That’s so wonderful, Slay.” Chrissy hugged her brother. “So have you told all the boys yet?” “Just Cain and Travis. They’re next door right now. They wanted to come over, but I told them I wanted to tell you guys alone first. Just in case you thought it was a stupid idea and were going to bitch me out or something.” “No way, brother. This is great news,” Jack said. “Babe, is it okay if the guys come over?”

“Sure,” Chrissy said. Slade walked out the door and was back two minutes later. Between Jack, Slade, and the two other men, Chrissy thought she was looking at a scene from the movie 300, except that all of the huge men were dressed, and they were in her kitchen. Jack went over to the guys and they guy-hugged, grunted, and playfully shoved each other—the typical guy greeting, which Chrissy didn’t understand. “Hey, Whiskey, how’s it going?” Travis said. Jack scowled at the nickname, which he obviously detested, but Chrissy was amused. “Yeah, Whiskey, how’s it going?” she teased. Travis smiled his big toothy smile and gave her a wink. Jack glared at Travis and pulled Chrissy to his side. Chrissy laughed at Jack’s ridiculous jealousy. It was actually quite adorable in a barbaric kind of way. Cain, as usual, said nothing. He was leaner than Slade and Jack but even taller, and he looked like a Viking. His blond hair was tied back at the nape of his neck, and his crystal-blue eyes and blond lashes made him look intimidating yet somber. Just then Slade’s phone rang. He listened briefly, then replied, “I’m with Jack and Chrissy next door. Come over.” He hung up. There was a tap on the door a moment later. Jack opened the door to a tall woman with long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She was at least five foot

eight, but with her sky-high stiletto heels she easily surpassed the six-foot mark. She had flawless white skin and emerald cat eyes. And her body … well, Chrissy would give her firstborn child to have a body like that. She was sex on stilettos, sultry and confident. “This beautiful lady here is my new business partner, Francesca,” Slade introduced her. “She’s Mauricio’s daughter. Francesca, this is my sister, Chris, Jack’s girlfriend. I’m still a little grossed out ’bout that, by the way.” Everyone laughed. “Seriously, I don’t like this whole shacking-up business. Make an honest woman out of her, douchebag!” He playfully shoved Jack’s shoulder. A soft knock sounded at the door. “That must be Jessica,” Slade said. Slade and Jessica had been inseparable from the moment Slade had found out she was in the hospital. After she was released, he had helped her settle in back home, even going as far as having her stay at his house and driving her to her physical therapy and doctor’s appointments. A few times Chrissy had asked Slade about their relationship, but he wasn’t forthcoming. The most she ever got from him was “We’re taking it slow.” They didn’t seem lovey-dovey in public, but Chrissy was fairly certain there was something more than friendship between the two of them. Slade opened the door, took Jessica’s hand, and drew her inside. Chrissy was happy to see her. Slade hadn’t been the only one who visited Jessica often. When Slade

was unavailable, Chrissy would go over and help out. In the last few months the two women had become close friends, although Jessica tended to avoid the topic of Dennis. It was the elephant in the room that they never discussed. But Chrissy was proud Jessica had had the strength to fight back, and one day, when Jessica was ready to hear it, Chrissy would tell her just how proud she was of her and how thankful she was that she’d risked so much to help her brother avoid prison. Slade quickly introduced Travis and Cain to Jessica, who smiled and shook their hands. “And last but not least, this here is my new business partner, Francesca. Francesca, this is my friend Jessica.” Jessica’s eyes widened, and Chrissy noticed the gulp she took before politely shaking Francesca’s hand. After the introductions were made they all sat down and chatted about the upcoming changes to the Academy. “So next month we start training Antonio. They call him Scarface. He’s the next big thing. No one’s been able to rein him in. He’s a loose cannon. Cocky as fuck. Great fighter, though. Has gone through a dozen trainers. We need to keep him happy but focused. If we can get Tony back into fighting shape and win at least one big-ticket fight, we can really bring fresh notoriety to WtF.” Francesca gave a sultry smile. “Don’t you worry, honey. I’ll keep him happy.” She laid a perfectly manicured hand on Slade’s forearm.

Chrissy noticed Jessica’s cheeks grow crimson. She totally understood the reaction. If another woman had called Jack “honey” or touched any part of his body, Chrissy would have most definitely wrung the woman’s neck. But Chrissy knew her brother, and she knew that he was completely oblivious to the flirtatious vibe coming from Francesca. Men! So stupid and blind sometimes. Just then Jessica whispered something to Slade, who immediately looked disappointed, sighed, and walked her to the door.

“It was nice to meet y’all. Gotta run,” Jessica called. Everyone waved goodbye as she left. An hour later, Chrissy and Jack were alone again. “So, Whiskey, what’s the plan for tonight?” “Oh no. No, no, no. I’ve enough grief with my legal name. I don’t need more aggravation.” “I think it’s cute.” “No, babe. Not cute.” “So you don’t like Whiskey, and you don’t like Jack Daniels. What do you like, sweetheart?” Jack took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about something your brother said. I don’t want to scare you,

and this is not how I envisioned doing this, but I love you so much, baby. And while we haven’t been together long, we’ve known each other our whole lives.” He paused, and Chrissy sensed he was nervous. “I know exactly what I would love for you to call me.” “Yeah? What’s that?” “Husband,” Jack said, and smiled. Chrissy gasped and covered her mouth. Still smiling, Jack stood up and left the room briefly, leaving Chrissy even more shell-shocked. He came back a minute later, sat down, and lifted her onto his lap. “You okay? Talk to me.” “Wh-what are you saying, Jack?” “I’m saying that I’d like to call you my wife. Marry me, Chrissy. Your brother’s right. Why are we shacking up? You love me, I love you. When it’s right, it’s right, and there’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Chrissy smiled widely. “Are you sure about this? Seems a little sudden. I’m not sure you’ve thought this through.” “Not sudden. I have been thinking about it, and I had all these ideas and plans as to how I was going to ask you, but … I don’t know, it just felt right to ask you now. Today. No bells and whistles.” Jack set Chrissy down on the couch, reached into his pocket for a small black box, and got on one knee. “Christine Martin, marry me.”

“Are you asking or commanding? That didn’t really sound like a question,” she teased, but happy tears were starting to form. “You’re right.” He grabbed her hand and slipped a beautiful two-carat square diamond on Chrissy’s finger. “It’s not a question. You’re marrying me. It’s a done deal.” Chrissy smiled through her tears. “You had a ring,” she whispered. “I did. See, it wasn’t so sudden.” “It’s beautiful, my fiancé and soon-to-be husband.” Her endearment was all he needed to know that she was saying yes to him. To them. Forever.

Dedicated to the fighter in my life.

Acknowledgments 2013 was an unforgettable year. I “met” some of the loveliest ladies I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting and I feel truly blessed that we’ve had the opportunity to work together. First, Sarah E. Younger. Seriously, what can I say? Best. Agent. Ever. You fell in love with the story from day one and have been a constant cheerleader. You helped me navigate the stressful and confusing waters of the literary world. And, of course, you love all things Drogo! Because of you, I was doubly blessed: you partnered me up with the amazing Junessa Viloria. I can’t say enough wonderful things about Junessa. It’s an author-editor relationship made in heaven. Junessa’s support and advice (and love of my story) made me want to work harder, and I’m a better storyteller because of it (and the steamy scenes are steamier because of it). So … from the bottom of my heart, thank you, J and S. Next, the wonderful ladies of #ladieswritenight. In a world full of envious people, you guys have been amazing and supportive … and funny as hell! Had you not cheered me on night after night, I would have taken thirty years to finish book two and to edit book one. Thank you Rachel, Violet, Anna, and Tif. I wish you all luck in your writing endeavors and can’t wait to see your books on the shelves. See you tonight, ladies!

Bloggers are so important in this industry. Y’all take time out of your busy lives to read our books, review them, and then help spread the word—all for the love of books and good story. There are just too many bloggers to thank and I wish I could thank each and every one of you individually. You guys have been unbelievably supportive and I thank you all. A huge thanks to Adriana for reading Against the Cage and everything else I’ve written. Thanks for all your help. I love you. One day I will publish your comments, because they are some of the funniest (and most helpful) things I’ve ever read. A shout-out to my other beta readers, Leisha (rolopolobookblog.com) and Michelle Q., who read ATC in the early stages and loved it. Thank you to my parents, who help me so much with my kids so that I have time to do the thousands of things I have to do every day. Thanks to my dad for being the person who inspired me to be such an avid reader—if I didn’t love to read as much I do, I wouldn’t have the passion to write. And, of course, my mom, who read this *cringe* and liked it *cringe*. Love you both. Thanks to my kids, who may never ever ever read any of my stories (especially Slade’s story)—Mommy loves you. And last (BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST) … thanks to my black-belt/jiujitsu/MMAencyclopedia/cheerleader/super-dad husband. I don’t know of any man as supportive as you are. You are truly one of a kind. Every single night for a year, I went to

Starbucks while you manned the house. Your support and belief in me never faltered, even when my belief in myself did. I love you so much and hope you know that I feel blessed every day that you are who you are and that I’m lucky enough to be with you.

SIDNEY HALSTON lives her life by one simple rule: “Just do it.” And that’s exactly what she did. At the age of thirty, having never written anything other than a legal brief, she picked up a pen for the first time to pursue her dream of becoming an author. That first stroke sealed the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Halston lives in South Florida with her husband and children.

The Editor’s Corner Most people look forward to summer vacations: warm, sunny days filled with nothing but reading on the agenda. Every year, I can’t wait to lie on the beach, lounge by the pool, or relax at a picnic at the park— always with a good book in my hands. If you’re looking for some hot reads, Loveswept has some great ones this month. But I warn you—it’s going to be a fiery summer. June brings two scorching reunion stories: Lea Griffith’s Loveswept debut, Too Much, an erotic romance where two lovers who have shared exquisite pain and unforgettable bliss find solace back in each other’s arms; and Serena Bell’s heartwarming Hold On Tight, about a young mother and a battle-scarred veteran who must decide if they can rekindle the sparks they once shared. Speaking of sparks, in Jamie Schmidt’s stylish and sexy book, Heat, a martial arts trainer introduces an ER doctor to a passion so intense she wants nothing more than to surrender to his touch. Then the temperature rises with the first book of Tina Leonard’s seductive new Hells Outlaws series, Last of the Red-Hot Cowboys, which brings passion hotter than the Texas sun. And if you’re looking for a classic romance, look no further than Iris Johansen’s steamy novel, Wicked Jake Darcy, where fate brings together a carefree beauty and a

charismatic playboy—only to separate them all too soon. ~Happy Romance!

Gina Wachtel Associate Publisher

Read on for a sneak peek of the next book in Sidney Halston’s Worth the Fight series, Full Contact. “Slade Martin! Open the damn door.” An incessant knock vibrated through the house. Had he not heard the chirpy voice, he’d have thought it was his sister, Chrissy. She had a knack for pounding on doors. But this voice was familiar even if he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what he’d find on the other side: the wrath of a scorned woman. Slade rolled off the uncomfortable single-size bed in his spare bedroom. He hoped that the knocking hadn’t awoken Jessica. She’d had a rough night last night and needed her sleep. It was her first night out of the hospital. But who was he kidding? The knocking could’ve woken up the dead. He fumbled for a pair of navy blue sweatpants that he’d thrown on the floor the previous night and slipped them on, followed by a white T-shirt. Leaving the room, he quickly peeked into his bedroom, where Jessica seemed to continue to sleep in his comfy king-size bed, unfazed by all the noise. He

closed the door and padded downstairs quickly. The knocking and shrill voice needed to stop. He flung the door open to come face-to-face with a tiny blond woman, whose voice matched her body. Small, fiery, and annoying as all hell. Charlene, Charlotte, Chanel? “Slade,” Chelsey whined. “What the hell, Chantel?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Chrissy and Jack walk across their lawn to his, Chrissy holding on to a leash with one hand, the other in a sling. And attached to the end of the superfluous leash was the bane of Slade’s existence: a five-pound Chihuahua that hated Slade. The feeling was mutual. “Yo.” Jack tilted his head up at Slade in the universal guy-hello nod, and Chrissy waved with a smile as they approached. Drogo growled. “Chastity.” “What?” Slade asked as he looked back down at the woman. “You said Chantel, and it’s Chastity. How could you not remember? We’ve been dating for months, you asshole!” Chastity? Really? “Go home, Chastity.” Jack snorted. “Chastity? Yeah right,” he whispered. Chrissy slapped him across the chest. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Listen, you gotta stop with the knocking. What the hell time is it, anyway?” He ran his

hands through his unruly hair as he yawned. His eyes skidded down to her tiny jean shorts, tight Bon Jovi Tshirt, and flip-flops. “You better not have another woman in there, Slade!” “Wait! What?” He stood forward and shut the door behind him. “Keep your voice down.” The tiny blonde stood with her foot tapping. “I’ve been calling you for over a week and you haven’t answered my calls or texts.” She was right—he hadn’t answered her calls, or anyone else’s, for that matter. All he’d been doing for the last week and a half was worrying about the woman who was currently lying in his bed, injured. After months of mutual, yet innocent, flirtation with Jessica, Slade had finally thought she’d leave her abusive boyfriend, Dennis. To his horror, he had instead found her in a hospital bed just ten days ago, beaten to a bloody pulp. And it was all his fault. The guilt had been eating away at him, and the least he could do was tend to her while she recovered. It wasn’t lost on him that he wanted her in other ways too, but now wasn’t the time to explore those feelings. God, he wished he were upstairs in bed with her. Instead, he had to deal with the woman currently shooting daggers at him. As Slade opened his mouth to answer, the woman got on the tips of her toes, flung her arms around his neck, and pressed her red lips against his. It was so sudden and the height difference was so great, he had no choice but to hold on to her so he wouldn’t lose his footing.

“Dude, not good. Stupid move,” Jack said, shaking his head. Slade tried to push her away, but the woman was an octopus—even though her lips had detached, her hands continued to snake around his neck, chest, and back. Chrissy just stood there, her mouth open, her eyes moving past him. He finally got Chastity disconnected and was able to distance himself from her tentacles before slowly turning his head. Jessica stood behind him, staring, her hand holding his front door open. Shit! “Oh, Slade.” Chrissy winced. “You cheating son of a bitch!” Chastity said as she wound her hand back and slapped him right across the face. “Jesus!” Slade palmed his stinging cheek. “I didn’t cheat on you!” He took a deep, calming breath before he continued. He softened his voice and proceeded with caution. “Come on, doll, you know I never lied to you. Admit it, it was fun for you too.” Doll. That’s a good one. You can’t hit (or re-hit) a man who just called you doll. Then, for good measure, he gave her one of his I’mnot-really-sorry-but-who-wouldn’t-love-this-sweet-face smiles. Chastity looked up at him through batted lashes and Slade could’ve sworn he saw her blush. Maybe even sigh. Crazy-ass woman! At that same moment, a red Corvette peeled onto Slade’s lawn. With the engine still running, a tall strawberry blonde in a business suit got out and marched

awkwardly toward the house, her spiky heels digging into the grass with every step she took. The group all turned their heads. “Son of a motherfucker!” Slade said as he banged his head against the wall by the front door. He looked back at Jessica, who looked mystified. The bruising on her face had yellowed a little, and her hair was still ruffled from sleep. She had yet to say a word. “Baby, I hope you brought chairs. This is about to get real good,” Jack said, amused. Chrissy slapped his chest once again and shushed him. His best friend was really enjoying Slade’s shitty morning. Prick. As the woman got closer, she yelled, “You cheating son of a bitch!” Once she was within range, she too swung her hand back and slapped Slade across the face. “Who the hell are you, you … tramp?” the woman yelled at Chastity as she looked her up and down. “I’m his girl. Who the hell are you?” “I’m Lisa. The one who’s been screwing his brains out for the last four months, bitch.” Then she turned to Slade. “I can’t believe you would cheat on me with this flip-flop-wearing floozy.” “Hey!” Chastity yelled. “I ain’t no floozy, ho. He’s been screwing me for longer than that, honey. You must’ve gotten my sloppy seconds. Besides, there’s another one.” Chastity pointed over Slade’s shoulder to Jessica. Jessica put her hands up in surrender and shook her

head. “No! Oh no, I’m just a friend. I haven’t been screwing anything. Don’t get me into this.” “Stop!” Slade yelled. “Both of you. Out of here. Lisa, Charlotte—” “Chastity!” Jack, Chrissy, and Chastity all corrected him. Slade pinched his nose and groaned. “Whatever the fuck.… We never agreed we were exclusive. We were just having fun. Fun’s over. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I have always been very up front with you two. Now, please, both of you, leave, and don’t call or come by again.” The two women continued to bicker. “Chrissy, Jack, go away. Walk your dog or something.” Chrissy gave Jessica an apologetic look before being led to the sidewalk by Jack. “Dumbass.” Jack threw a smirk over his shoulder and flicked him the middle finger. “Dick,” Slade yelled to his best friend before slamming the door shut on them all. So Slade was a man-whore. That wasn’t news. What was news was that Jessica felt a pang of … something. Jealousy? Hurt? For the last ten days, Slade hadn’t left her side. And before the incident with her shitty exboyfriend, Dennis, he’d pursued her for months and months. She knew he was attracted to her, as she was to

him. Not one to mince words, he had told her time and time again how much he wanted her. But she also knew that everyone in Tarpon Springs with a vagina (well, except for his sister) was attracted to him. Seriously, the man was gorgeous. Six feet five inches of pure muscle, with beautiful blue eyes that contrasted severely with his jet black hair—hell, even men took notice. But since he’d been so sweet, tending to her as she recuperated, she had felt somewhat special. Well, the two bickering women were like a douse of cold water that she desperately needed. She considered herself reminded: Slade was a whore, and that was a fact. Slade looked at Jessica softly as he gripped the back of his neck. He didn’t move from the hallway by the front door, and he seemed concerned and apologetic. When their eyes locked, something bubbled up inside, and suddenly she found herself trying to hold back a fit of laughter. “What’s so funny?” He smiled at her. She held her stomach as she began to cackle. “Y-y-you you look like a hand turkey!” “A what?” His eyebrows furrowed. She continued to laugh uncontrollably, and when she could speak again she said, “You know in school when kids trace their hands to draw a turkey?” He shrugged uncertainly and she continued. “You have five fingers perfectly imprinted in bright red on each cheek. They slapped you good, playboy.”

“Ha ha.” “I can’t believe they were ready to fight like that over you. I mean, really, you’re great to look at and all, but seriously? Have some self-respect. And the smile—oh, please. How could they fall for the world’s cheesiest, most insincere smile? You need better-quality women, Slade.” “Don’t laugh, sweetheart. First, it was completely sincere. Second, I think you got a little jealous there and you’re using humor to deflect.” “I am not jealous.” He ignored her comment. “And third, if you’d had me, you’d fight for me too.” He wagged his eyebrows. Then he gave her the smile. The corners of his full lips tilted and curved up; his perfect white teeth sparkled. The amusement lit his face all the way to his blue eyes, which crinkled at the corners. And … she went all gooey inside. She would totally slap a bitch right now—he was right. Damn him. In an attempt to come out of her Slade’s-smile-induced trance, she shoved his shoulders. “I don’t know about that. No offense, but I couldn’t date someone who had a harem.” “I don’t have a harem.” “I beg to differ.” “Well, I bet if you finally gave in to what we both know you want and went on a date with me, you’d be falling all over yourself if you thought another woman

was sniffing around.” “Cocky bastard.” “Mmm … I like it when you say ‘cock.’ ” Jessica laughed. “Pig.” She wiped the tears from her face. “And anyway, I don’t get jealous.” “Bullshit. Everyone gets jealous, especially women.” “Not me. It’s not in me. Never been jealous.” “You probably just haven’t been with a man you’ve really liked.” “Arrogant.” “I prefer cocky,” he said. She grinned. She loved Slade’s sense of humor. His light and carefree disposition in general was such a breath of fresh air. “Slade, you’ve been awesome. I’m so grateful that you’ve been taking care of me for the past couple of weeks, but really, I think it’s time I went home.” “No. You need rest, you just got out of the hospital. I feel responsible that this happened. If you hadn’t been trying to help me, Dennis wouldn’t have—” She stepped closer to him and lifted her palm to his mouth to quiet him. “It wasn’t the first time he hit me.” She looked down, unable to meet his gaze at the shame of her admission. She gathered strength and met his eyes, her palm still against his mouth. “Me defending you, it didn’t make a difference. He would’ve found some other excuse to hit me. This is not your fault. Not one bit. I don’t even know how I could ever repay you for everything. Really. Thank you.”

He took hold of her wrist, pressed her hand closer to his mouth, and kissed her palm. The tender gesture startled her, causing her to pull her hand back. “Let’s make a deal. You stay with me, at least for another week or two, until your physical therapist gives you the all-clear, and then you can go on a date with me as repayment.” “I don’t think so, Slade.” “Come on. One date. You don’t like it, no hard feelings.” Jessica pondered his proposal. What did she really have to lose? “If I’m no big deal, as you seem to think, saying no to me after one date should be easy,” he added. “Fine, Martin. It’s a deal.” Slade smiled his toothy, devilish smile. The next morning, Slade was leaning against her, so close he could smell the soapy scent of her shampoo. His mouth lingered above her neck longer than necessary, and if she shifted just an inch, their lips would brush together. He saw her throat bobbing, as if she were trying to swallow or clear her throat. “I can buckle my own seatbelt, Slade.” She croaked. “Sorry. Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” For some reason he couldn’t explain, he had this primal need to

take care of her, completely. “What are you going to do while I’m at physical therapy?” she asked as they drove. “Have some things I have to talk to Silva about at the gym.” “How’s the old man doing?” “Not so good. I think he’s thinking of selling Worth the Fight Academy. After his heart attack, he hasn’t been the same. I’ve taken over almost all the training.” “That’s terrible. What would you do? That’s your second home. You love that place.” “Yeah, I know.” Slade thought about life without WtF Academy and it was something he couldn’t wrap his head around. Since he was nineteen he’d been training there, and for the last eight years he’d helped Marcelo Silva train other fighters. He loved it. It was more than a job for him. He pulled in at the PT’s office and parked his car. “You don’t have to walk me in. I got it.” Slade ignored her as he walked around, opened the door, and helped her out. She looked frail and her breathing was still a little off. The son of a bitch had really done a number on her. They walked side by side toward the entrance, and when their hands grazed as they both reached for the door at the same time, she snapped her head to him, her cheeks flushed. He had felt it too. The electricity. It hadn’t been the first time, either. Since the day they’d met, they’d had a connection. Every time

they accidentally touched, it was like an electrical shock. When they stepped inside the PT reception, she signed her name and sat down, insisting he leave. He planned to just wait for them to call her name. “Jessica Cross?” a statuesque woman in scrubs called out from the little window. Jessica and Slade made their way over to her. When he saw the woman, he groaned. “Slade? Hi! It’s been a long time.” She winked and leaned her body into the window. “Hey, Fiona. You work here now?” “Yes. I’m almost finished with school. Trying to learn the ropes so I can work here full-time when I get my PT license.” “So … you called Jessica?” Fiona had been smiling dreamily at Slade and had forgotten all about Jessica, but at the mention of her name she seemed to snap out of it. “Oh—uh, yeah, here. Please fill this out.” She handed her a clipboard full of documents. “The therapist will be with you shortly.” Jessica took the papers and turned toward the chair, Slade following behind her. “Hey, Slade, I’m free in an hour if you wanna—” Fiona’s words ended suggestively. “Can’t” was all Slade said before sitting down next to Jessica. The woman slammed the little window shut. Jessica slid him a sideways glance. “Don’t mind me. Feel free to go out with one of your harem-ettes.” Slade barked out a laugh. “Seriously, Jess. Where do you come up with these things? She’s not in my harem. I

don’t have a harem. And anyway, I’m not interested.” His eyes bored into hers in a way that seemed to make her nervous. “Jessica Cross?” A lean man in his early thirties, wearing scrubs, interrupted their staring. Slade trailed after Jessica as she met the man by the door. “I’m your therapist. Seth Rossing.” He smiled, and Slade turned to see Jessica grinning back. Son of a bitch! “There are no women therapists?” Slade asked, his voice huskier than usual. Seth and Jessica both looked back at him. “Slade!” Jessica hissed. He tried to recover quickly. “I—uh—it’s just that she needs someone delicate. She was very badly injured.” Seth turned and led Jessica into the room, his hand on her lower back. “I’ll be gentle. Sorry, only the patient’s allowed inside,” Seth informed him before Slade could follow behind them. “See you in an hour, Slade,” Jessica said as the door closed. Instead of going to tend to his work obligations with Silva, Slade decided to wait. There was a man currently feeling Jessica up on the other side of the door. He sat down, grabbed a magazine that was seven years old, flipped through it, and tossed it aside. He stood up again and paced the room, his mind drifting to thoughts of Jessica. For nearly two weeks, the moment he had first seen Jessica in the hospital had haunted his mind.

Slade ran through the hospital doors. “Jessica Cross? I need to see Jessica Cross,” he said to the woman who sat in the reception area of the hospital. The woman typed something into her computer system. “Is that two esses?” Slade’s eyes narrowed in confusion. What the hell was she talking about? “What?” he yelled impatiently. “Is that Jessica with two esses?” “Are you kidding me right now?” He slammed his palms onto the desk and leaned into the woman. Her cheeks became noticeably flamed. “Is there any other way of spelling it? Of course it’s Jessica with two esses.” The woman stared at him for a moment before going back to her computer. “And before you ask, it’s Cross with two esses as well.” She looked up, nodded timidly, and went back to typing. “Here she is. She is in the critical care unit, room three twelve. Follow this hall to the end, take the elevators to the third floor, and you’ll see the sign for critical care. Only immediate family allowed.” Without a second thought he answered, “I’m her brother.” She nodded her approval and he took off toward Jessica. As soon as he found the correct room, he knocked. He heard a faint sound and walked in. “Slade?” Jessica whispered. Slade took in the sight of the beautiful woman in front

of him. Her perfect skin, something that he’d always noticed, was marred by scrapes and bruises. Her eye was swollen shut, her lips inflamed and split. She didn’t look like Jessica. “Jess. I came as soon as I heard.” He walked hesitantly toward her. When he got close, she turned her face away from him. He pulled up a chair and sat down right beside her. “Jessica, please, sweetheart, look at me.” He heard a sniffle. “No, I can’t.” “This isn’t your fault. He’s the monster. You were just a victim. A brave victim. Please, Jess. Look at me.” He heard more sniffling before she turned her head slowly toward him. His gaze was locked on her beautiful brown eyes. He reached up and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’m so sorry this happened, Jessica. So sorry. This is all my fault. You shouldn’t have gone alone, baby. You should’ve called me. He’s lucky he’s in jail.” Her lip quivered. “And you?” It was difficult to understand her because her jaw was swollen and her voice was low and muffled. “My charges were dropped. Thanks to you, everything’s clear.” “Oh, thank God.” “Immediate family only,” a nurse said curtly as she walked in. “It’s ok—” Jessica began to say. “I’m her brother.” The nurse eyed him before shrugging

and continuing toward her patient. Jessica’s eyes narrowed, but she seemed to accept his lie in order to have him there. “What’s the prognosis? When can she go home?” The nurse looked at Jessica for permission to discuss this with Slade. Jessica nodded. As she skimmed through the chart, she said, “She’ll probably be here a few more days. Just waiting for some lab work and scan results. The broken rib punctured her lung and it caused her lungs to collapse. It’s looking better already, but we need to continue monitoring her. She’s on heavy sedatives for the injuries as well. Her arm’s broken, which is why she’s in the cast.” She turned her attention to Jessica. “Honey, I hope you have lots of family because you are going to need help once you get out.” Jessica’s eyes watered and she gave an unconvincing nod to the nurse, who smiled before leaving the room. “Jess? Have you called your family? They’re from Charlotte, right? Are they coming?” Jessica shook her head. He reached for her hand, “Baby, you want me to call them for you?” She shook her head again. She looked so fragile, so alone, and so scared that Slade wanted to put her in a protective bubble and stand guard. From the day they’d met, he’d felt this way about her. He was notoriously selfish, but when it came to this woman, a surge of protectiveness consumed him.

“Please. What can I do? I’m so sorry about—” She shook her head again. “Not your fault.” She then grimaced. “Does it hurt when you talk?” She nodded. “Then yes and no questions only, ’kay?” She squeezed his hand and blinked. Her face was turned to his, and tears were slowly running down it. “You don’t want to call your family?” She shook her head. “I think you need to tell them what happened.” She shook her head again frantically. Her chin quivered as the tears continued to fall down her eyes over her nose and onto the bed. “Baby, please. Don’t cry. I don’t know how to handle this, but I’m here. Okay? I’m here. You’re not alone. If you don’t want to call your folks, that’s cool. You’ll just be stuck with me.” She frowned at him. “No?” She whispered no. “Why?” She shrugged. “Not a good reason. And since you can’t speak, it’s me or your parents. You pick.” He reached for her phone as if he were going to dial her parents. She seemed to ponder it for a few moments, then pointed at Slade.

“Okay. That’s settled, then.” He reached over and stroked her hair for some time. “Go to sleep, baby. No one’s going to hurt you. I swear to you. No one will ever hurt you again.” Her eyes slowly closed and then she was asleep. Slade sat there for hours looking at the beautiful woman who lay there broken. He’d had a few regrets throughout his life. One, letting his sister walk out of his life more than ten years ago because of some bullshit he had said to her during their father’s funeral. He’d been drunk and the things he’d said he’d regret until the day he died. Because of that, she had left, and ten years had gone to waste. The second thing he regretted was not finding Dennis Stravos and fucking him up himself. Even if it had led to prison, he should’ve done it. Because Slade had stayed away from Jessica, Dennis had severely beaten her. He vowed at that moment never to let her get hurt again.

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