“Figure out your shit, Nick. Once you do, come back and look at my daughter with eyes that actually see her. Then maybe I’ll let you get near her with that expression on your face.” Jed’s ghost isn’t the only one who haunts me. Albert Smith was a man who took no crap from anyone. He built Smith’s Brewhouse from a simple watering hole for fishermen to a year-round moneymaker which his children carried on. Years later, when the man himself called to congratulate me on winning the belt, I reached out to Jed, who was holed up with Maris—somewhere. “I just took out Troy Martinez for the belt. So, tell me why I’m shaking because your father just called?”
Jed just laughed as he hung up in my ear.
Smiling to myself now, I know Albert Smith wasn’t just a good man; he was a great one. Despite my initial wariness around him, he taught me a lot about managing a business that I put into practice today—the importance of always keeping your fingers in the pie, of understanding important decisions, and above all, “The hardest part about owning a business is trusting people. Me and Vi can’t tell you how many times we’ve been burned.”
An incandescent fury rose inside my twenty-year-old self. “Then why continue to do it, Mr. Smith? Why not hire a manager?”
He turned eyes—Maris’s eyes—on me and frowned, not in anger but thoughtfully. “No matter what happens, there are things that are going to hurt in life, Nick. But cutting yourself off from people, that just leaves your soul empty.”
My brows drew together, not really understanding the bad side. He chuckled. “One day you’ll understand, Nick. Now, why don’t you go over and talk to those kids your age.” Then he shook his meaty finger at me. “But…”
I held up both hands. “I know. I know. No flirting with Maris.”
“You, I trust to listen. It’s my damn daughter who’s as wild as the wind and is growing up to be more beautiful than I can handle.” His tone was so aggrieved, I actually grinned.
When first Violet, then Albert, passed away, both Jed and Maris were torn apart at their loss. It was one of the few times I willingly came back to Alaska without having to be browbeat by my friends. Then again, how could I not? In a world where I was too used to people of authority who publicly outcried they wanted to help the abandoned child while behind their hands they whispered in undertones about my lack of control. What they didn’t understand was I was choking on my own voice. The Smiths did more than that. They became my surrogate parents years too late.
And then there was Maris. During those summers she somehow forced me to talk, she dug out my dreams. Then she did something worse—she listened.
I never told Maris about falling for her while she wore a polka-dot bikini and cutoffs as Jed held her and Kara in a headlock. Instead, I made some asinine comment and hit the closest convenience store for more liquor. Back then, being a brooding jackass around Maris was the only way I could prevent myself from doing something that would have destroyed us both and broken my promise to her father. Because it wasn’t her I couldn’t see with different eyes; it was myself.
And judging by the disappointment in Jed’s eyes every time I ignored his sister, he knew it.
Swearing I’d never return, I packed my bags and caught a ferry to Seattle. From there, it was easy to do the research I needed to get into the Extreme MMA Championship, the world-renowned mixed martial arts organization. Their training and recruiting center—located outside Las Vegas, Nevada—was as different from my life in Alaska as my childhood was from Jed and Maris’s slice of perfection.
In other words, it was perfect.
I don’t have time to recall the memories of my early days in Vegas because a strong hand clamps down on my shoulder. I whirl around, dropping instinctively into a fighting stance, before my whole body relaxes. Then I surge up and clap Brad in a one-arm hug. “Used to be once a year was enough to see your ugly mug,” I joke.
“I was thinking the same thing. Welcome home, brother. It’s good to have you back.”
My insides twitch at the words. This place will never be my home.
Brad just continues. “How was the ferry? Weather’s getting choppy.” He nods toward the boat I just left.
“Not too bad. Not like that trip I took from Cozumel to Playa del Carmen.” I shudder in remembrance.
“If I recall, you called me drunk off your ass about two hours after you got off the boat,”
“I figured I booted enough in the boat ride I deserved to have the hangover to accompany it.” We both laugh as we make our way out of the terminal.
“How’s life down in New Mexico? Are you still dating Roxy? I think she’s the last woman I remember you talking about.”
I cringe. That’s the woman I was involved with before Jed died. “No.”
“Maybe it was Misty?”
“That was like five, six years ago.”
Brad shakes his head. “Then you’re just hanging loose?”
Instead of explaining to him I haven’t been with anyone since I found out Jed died when the explanation about that belongs to exactly two people, I make a vague sound of acknowledgment.
Brad grins. “Rainey’s going to be disappointed. She has an online bingo board with the others on the name of your next hookup. She’s one spot away. She was hoping for a ‘Trixie.’”
I choke. “Are you serious or just fucking with me?”
“I’m just telling you what I know. I’m not sure if there’s bragging rights involved or actual cash.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Scrubbing a hand over my face, I swallow down my laughter over the absurdity of this before pain lances through me when I realize Maris is likely involved with this shit. For the sake of that alone, I don’t mention I banged a “dancer” who went by Topless Trixie when I first got to Vegas in an attempt to forget a woman with mahogany hair and deep blue eyes. I’ll go to the grave with that before I let Rainey win.
Because then we all lose.
“Have to admit I’m amazed you’re here,” Brad says after we’re on the road to his place.
Sights and memories flash by as he accelerates past downtown Juneau. “Got a line on a new fighter. I’m here to put them through their paces.”
“From Juneau?” Brad’s shock is understandable. Never before have I personally scouted someone from Alaska, though members of my team have.
“Yep. If you can believe it, he’s a former Lumberjack.” I mentally count to three because I know my friends and…
Brad throws back his head and roars. “Tell me this is a joke. You’re really up here to give a statement for the fostering, right?”
I let out a long-suffering sigh. “Why would I make up something so…wait, what? Are you and Rainey adding to your family?” It wouldn’t surprise me. Last spring, they had a full house hosting Rainey’s sister’s children until the lot of them moved down to Montana. And despite the internal family struggles that it caused for a short time, I know if Rainey wanted to add to their family, Brad would be on board.
Brad flushes. “Crap. You mean there really is a fighter here?”
Even as a small knot begins to form in my stomach, I answer. “Brad, have you ever known me willingly to travel to Alaska?”