“Just wanna win,” Gunnar says, jumping to his feet and walking over to where his gloves are stored.
Following him over, I grab the tape and help him out, dressing his hands and getting him ready for the ring. “You’re gonna kick ass.”
His eyes meet mine and things that neither of us will say cross between us. When he’s all taped up, we bump fists and he makes his way over to the new, state-of-the-art ring. Honestly, it’s better than anything we’ve had at Erickson, and when Viggo sees it, he’s going to be jealous as shit.
“Going for a run,” I call out across the open space. “And for muffins.”
Gunnar laughs and then flips me the bird, because muffins are not part of his pre-fight diet.
“I’ll have one for you,” I add, opening the door and walking outside. Taking a deep breath, I let the clean, crisp Tennessee air fill my lungs before I start bouncing on the balls of my feet to warm up. Winter here is different than it is in Dallas. We get cooler temps back home, along with the occasional snow flurries, but in Green Valley, it’s just downright cold. It’s also quiet, which is something I’ll miss when I go back to Dallas. It’s barely light outside and there isn’t a soul around. The birds are chirping and it’s like I have the whole town to myself.
One thing I never felt in Dallas, or pretty much my entire life, is solitude.
Coming from a big family and falling in the dead center of five brothers, I never had time to just be in my own head. I came out of the womb sharing my life—rooms, clothes, dreams, jobs, goals.
And the last thing I shared that sent me to Green Valley—a woman.
Not with my brothers, that’s where I draw the line, but with someone else… which is also where I draw the line and what landed me here, in this peaceful setting. At first, I thought I’d made a mistake by coming here, it was too quiet, too slow. But now, I’m wondering how I’ll leave and go back to the hustle and bustle of a big city.
After a few miles, sweat begins to drip off my forehead and I feel the desired burn in my legs. Pouring on the speed, I run it out for the last two miles and then slow it back down as I come back into view of the gym… well, actually, my destination is the storefront on the other side of the street where cars are beginning to crowd the once-empty parking spaces.
Donner Bakery has become my kryptonite. And it doesn’t help that my brother’s girlfriend works here—girlfriend? That doesn’t seem right. It’s not significant enough for what Tempest is to Cage or to our family. She’s already become a part of our tight-knit group. It’s odd to imagine a time when she wasn’t one of us. Which is why my brother needs to hurry up and put a ring on it.
But I’m definitely not the one to give advice on that.
Groaning at the memory flashing in my head, I stop just before I get to the door and pull off my gloves and headband. When I look back up, an older lady is leaving the bakery and holds the door open for me with a smile. I offer her one in return and dip my head in her direction. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Sweetie.
God, I love this place.
Stepping inside, the smell of sweet deliciousness fills the air. But before I get a muffin, I have to get my other fix. Pulling out the two quarters I keep in the small zipper pocket of my sweatpants, I place them into the newspaper dispenser.
Taking the newspaper with me, I get in line, and while I wait, I open it and flip to find the new ad I placed a week ago, announcing the new women-only self-defense class Tempest has been teaching in the evenings. While I’m here, I’ve tried to make myself as useful as possible, helping establish a few marketing strategies that can be easily maintained after I’m gone.
The ad looks good—eye-catching, but not over-the-top. I tried to word it in a way where anyone reading this would feel like it’s something for them. We’re trying to ingratiate the gym to the good people of Green Valley and make it more of a place everyone feels welcome than a sideshow.
Cage has done a pretty good job so far, offering free classes for the local police officers and firefighters. The women-only self-defense class was actually Tempest’s idea and it’s been well-received, but not enough people know about it, hence the ad. Which I strategically asked to be placed right next to my favorite column, Trixie and Tess Tell All.
“Good morning, Vali. What can I get you?”
Popping my head up from the paper, I smile at my favorite muffin maker. “I’m hoping for a Folsom Prison Blues,” I whisper covertly, using the folded paper as a shield, because these muffins are basically the equivalent to gold… or street drugs. The second they hit the case, they’re gone. But Tempest always puts one back for me, because secretly I’m her favorite.
“So, that’s one Sweet Dream and a coffee,” she calls out, giving me a wink.
We gotta play it cool. Otherwise, there could be a mutiny. A muffin mutiny.
After I pay and step to the side, I go back to the newspaper and see what my favorite gossip columnists have for me this week.
If I had one suggestion for the Green Valley Ledger, that would be to have a daily paper. This once-a-week bullshit is for the birds. Tempest claims it’s because there’s not enough news to fill a paper on a daily basis, but that doesn’t help my need to be entertained.
Just as I’m getting ready to dive in, only getting to the now-familiar opening of Greetings, Good People of Green Valley, Tempest peeks around the newspaper with a piping hot cup of coffee and a bag with the goods.
“I stuck a Hey, Good Lookin’ in there for Cage,” she says. “They’re his favorite. And I would’ve put one in there for Gunnar, but I know he’s on his fight diet, so make sure you sneak Cage his. Gunnar’s working so hard. I don’t want to tempt him. Which reminds me, I need to make sure to bake a batch just for him once he wins his fight.”
If the power of positive thinking could win someone a title belt, we’d definitely have this shit in the bag.
“I’ll be stealthy,” I promise. “And mine will be gone before I even make it down the sidewalk.”
“Any good gossip?” she asks, gesturing to the paper.
Taking a tentative sip of my coffee, I pass the paper to her. “I haven’t gotten to the good stuff yet, but I did find the new ad for your self-defense classes. Take a look.”
She opens the paper and smiles. “Looks great.”
“I was thinking, I could help out with the classes, if you need an extra body… someone to beat up on or whatever.”
Tempest laughs, folding the paper and handing it back to me. “Actually, that’d be great. If the class grows any more, I’m sure I could use some assistance.”
“Have you convinced Frankie to join the class yet?”
Her smile grows even wider. “I think I have. She told me last week she thinks she’s ready to give it a shot.”
“That’s progress,” I tell her, bringing my cup up for another sip of coffee. Gunnar’s girlfriend, Frankie, is as opposed to violence as one can be, which makes all of our sport and occupations a hurdle for her. When she and Gunnar first got together, it was almost a deal-breaker, but they made it and she’s really coming out of her shell at the gym. When I first got to town, she wouldn’t even step foot on the mats. Then, she started visiting on off-hours and watching all of us horse around. That turned into observing classes, which was recommended by her therapist, and now, she’s a familiar face at Viking MMA.