He levered off me, stood and held out his hand. I just laid there for a few seconds and looked up at him. I had been ready for him to kiss me, and I'd loved how he felt pressing me down. My body felt taunted and now neglected. Was he torturing me on purpose, or did he really not want to kiss me? Realizing he was staring down at me waiting, I took his hand, and he helped me up, but didn't let go.
“Wow. Um, okay, I know what you’re talking about now.” I had to get my bearings. The feel of a man above me—specifically Gray—had me hot all over. “Chris used to go to a friend’s house because they watched the fights on Pay-Per-View. Were any of those fights you?”
He nodded. “Sure, that was it, but I also fought back in the old days before satellite and cable.”
A long career then. “All you did was take me to the mat. The choking and the arm bars, isn’t it really violent?”
He grinned. “Very.” He pointed to his ear, then his nose. “I got these along with my trophies.”
I took in the whole package, and the scars and marks on his body from his career didn’t detract. Instead, it showed he had a past, a history, and he survived. “As a nurse, I have a pretty good idea of how those injuries must have felt.”
His smile slipped a bit. “I’m sure you can.” He led me out of the ring with a gentle hand at the small of my back. We put on our shoes.
I walked over to one of the long punching bags, ran my hand over the black leather. “How did you get your start though? I mean, did you do karate as a kid or something?”
This time his smile dropped away completely. He shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. Let’s just say I learned early on how to defend myself, and when I got big enough, I gave as good as I got.”
“Did you grow up here?”
“On a ranch in Wyoming, up by Casper.”
That explained some of the photos.
“After high school,” he continued, “I went into the Marines, and they honed that fighting skill.”
My eyebrows went up. Earlier, he'd glossed over his childhood and downplayed how bad it must have been. While he hadn’t outright said it, it was easy to infer someone had hit him as a child. I ached for the boy he’d been, of how far he’d come. The Marines, perhaps, had been his escape, especially from rural Wyoming, and it would have made him really experienced.
“You left the Marines and became a professional fighter then.”
He nodded. “I did what I was good at.”
I looked around the space. It was really impressive. It wasn't a cookie cutter gym. It wasn't a meat market, but a place for serious fighters. “Looks like you were really good at it.”
He offered a small shrug. “I’m not as interesting as the Internet says.”
I smiled. “Now that I know your full name, I’ll have to look you up.”
He didn’t seem too keen on that as he glanced away.
“Does it say something like you fathered some movie star’s kid?”
He grinned again, and I liked it. I liked knowing I could make him smile. He met my gaze. “Something like that.”
My eyebrows went up. “I was only joking.” A laugh sputtered out of me. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” When he didn’t say more but watched the boxers get back in the ring, I asked, “Was it the lady who stars in that sci-fi blockbuster? I take you more for an action-adventure type.”
Gray wasn't the kind of guy to be flippant about a baby. From what he told me about being afraid he'd hurt one, I knew it was all tabloid fodder, and I played it off as that.
He turned his head toward me and grinned. “There’s only one type I care about,” he replied, stepping closer.
“Oh?”
He nodded and tucked a wayward curl behind my ear. I felt that gesture all the way to my toes. “Emory’s type.”
“Oh.” I had no idea what to say to that. I had absolutely no comeback, and I was flustered. Of course, that made him grin even bigger.
“I love the way you blush.” He ran a knuckle down my warm cheek, which made my face heat even more. “Ready to get out of here?”
I could only nod, still stuck on Emory’s type. I followed him to the truck, and his gaze raked over my body as he opened the door for me.
“So, yoga?”
“It’s not MMA, but it’s a good workout,” I replied, getting in.
“I can tell.”
Was his voice a little rough?
He climbed into his seat, turned on the engine to get the air conditioning going. His truck was new and big and… huge. It had a full backseat that could fit a few extra cowboys. The engine rumbled with as much testosterone as the owner. Yet it was somehow understated and immaculately clean. It matched Gray’s personality.
Turning to face me, he said, “We can go to the bar and meet up with the team, but they’re going to be three beers in by now and singing crude drinking songs as loud as they can. Most guys probably haven’t showered, which won’t be pleasant, so I was thinking we could get some lunch on our own. Something a little less crazy.”
He sat less than two feet away. I could clearly see the scar in his eyebrow, the start of new whiskers on his cheeks. One of his ears had a hint of fighting damage to it, cauliflower ear, that he’d pointed to. But that was all superficial. Inconsequential. It was his eyes that hooked me. The way he looked at me with that dark, piercing gaze as if I was the only person around. In this case, I was, but he was completely and totally focused on me, not the car blaring its horn on the street, not the bad song that came on the radio. It was as if he wanted to be just with me.
I licked my bottom lip, and he sucked in a breath. “What about your friend, Thor?”
“He texted me while I was in the shower. Laura, his wife, didn’t want to waste a babysitter on a bunch of drunk guys singing off key. Her words.”
“Yeah, I don’t blame her. Thor’s a smart man for doing what she wants.”
He cocked his head in question.
“If she gets what she wants, I promise you, he’ll get exactly what he wants,” I explained. I folded my hands in my lap.
He nodded slowly, thinking about my words then grinned. “So if I take you where you want, will I get exactly what I want?”
My eyes widened. Even though the air conditioner was blowing out cool air, it was awfully hot inside the cab all of a sudden, and my heart skidded to a halt. “And… um, what is it that you want?” I whispered. I was dying to know and petrified to find out.
“Your phone number.” He grinned at my expression. It must have been priceless because I was expecting him to say something completely different, something that involved a first-date BJ. And he knew that.
Shaking my head slightly, I laughed as I retrieved my cell from my bag, handed it to him. He fiddled with it for a minute, then I heard a ring from his pocket. He gave the phone back, put the car in gear and backed out of the parking spot.
“There, now you have my number, too.”
Chapter 8
EMORY
I let Gray decide where to eat lunch. He took me to a place in the foothills, nestled in a canyon and beside a fast-moving creek. We ate outside on a patio by the water. It wasn’t fancy, and he’d said the place was famous for their wings. I was the one who’d grown up in the area, and I’d never heard of the place. Gray ordered a bucketful, and we’d discovered we both liked them hot. An extra plate sat between us where we tossed the cleaned bones. Another had celery and carrot sticks and a dish of dressing. It was a really smart choice on Gray’s part. It was slow eating wings, so we were able to linger and talk. Our hands were busy the entire time, which helped to avoid awkward moments. It was also a messy task, and it was hard for me to take anything too seriously when we both had hot sauce all over our fingers and mouths.