Fight For Her (MMA Fighter Romance Book 1) Page 5

  His face crinkled again. “Gross. You won’t throw up ’cause you’re a mom.”

  I nodded. “Especially because I’m a mom.”

  “Then you can do them.”

  “Okay, but this first part might sting a little.” I used a wet paper towel to dab at the cuts, then covered one scrape after another, making sure no blood or sore spot was exposed, just as Chris used to want. He flinched at first, but Marco acted very brave.

  “Do you want to call your mom or dad to come pick you up?”

  “I live with my uncle and grandfather. But no. I can ride home now.”

  “Is your front tire damaged?”

  He shook his head, dark curls bouncing. “Thank you for the Band-Aids, Miss Emory.”

  “You’re welcome, Marco.”

  He gave me an awkward side hug, then dashed down the steps to his bike.

  “Marco,” I called out.

  He looked up at me, all chubby cheeked and happy once again. I’d forgotten that Chris was ever his size.

  I held up one finger. “Can you wait just a minute? I have something for you. For riding your bike.”

  “Sure.”

  I ran inside and to the back porch and dug into the basket filled with a variety of sports equipment.

  “Here,” I said to Marco as I went down the front steps. I handed him a bike helmet. “This belonged to my son, but his head’s too big for it now. It’s really important you wear a helmet when you ride a bike. Okay?”

  He looked at the blue helmet with a Maryland flag sticker on the side of it. “Wow, cool! Thanks.”

  I helped him adjust the straps so it fit him. It was a little big, but it was better than nothing, and he’d quickly grow into it. “There. If you ever get into trouble again, you can always knock on my door. You can remember it because the door’s red. Okay?” Since the block had about twenty row houses—as they were called in Baltimore—and all were identical brick and white trim, I used the colored door as an easy way to indicate to people which one was mine.

  He gave me a big grin, a tooth missing on the bottom. “Thanks, Miss Emory!”

  I watched him ride off and around the corner, wounds forgotten.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  EMORY

  Simon and I showed up at the park a little before noon. I didn’t want to seem too eager and I had to do some serious psyching up at home to actually go. I'd even chickened out twice. Committing Simon yesterday had been a smart move; I hadn’t been able to back out. There was no way he was going to miss seeing the guy who’d gotten me all flustered. When we’d met on the sidewalk out front, Simon had given me a once over as usual.

  I looked down at myself. Because it was hot and we'd be out in the sun, I wore black shorts and a racer-back tank top that was black-and-white stripe on the front and solid red on the back. A pedicure had been my Saturday night excitement, but at least my toes looked good in my flip-flops. I’d pulled my hair back into a ponytail, the shorter curls framing my face. I wore sunglasses and a thick layer of sunscreen. “It’s a rugby game in a park. I can dress myself for that.”

  My slight grumbling tone made Simon’s eyebrows go up, but he didn’t push. I could only assume he could tell how out of sorts I was and didn’t want to either make me run back inside and lock the door or start to cry. Not that I had plans for either, but he didn’t know that.

  When we got to the park, guys were out on the field running around with a big white ball, tackling and crushing each other like in football, but without any pads or helmets. Since this was my first rugby game, I didn’t know the rules and there was no scoreboard or time clock. It looked like a complete free-for-all to me. There were about twenty other spectators along the sidelines, some in folding chairs, others on blankets. Kids ran around chasing each other, and babies took naps in their strollers, worn out from the heat.

  I spread out a blanket as Simon put down the small cooler I'd packed, then we settled in to watch. He handed me a soda as I sat cross-legged.

  “Which one is he?” He popped the lid on his drink.

  One team wore black-and-white striped T-shirts like a bunch of convicts, the other wore dark green ones with a yellow collar. As I scanned the men, I realized Faith would have enjoyed this. Watching sweaty, fit men run around and tackle each other, showing off their caveman qualities would spike any woman’s libido. It certainly worked on mine. But when I finally glimpsed Gray on the field, my heart stuttered. The other night wasn’t a fluke. He did something to me. This guy, why this guy? Was I insane? There was one way to find out.

  “There.” I pointed.

  “The blond?”

  I shook my head, took a sip of soda to cool myself down. Gray looked…God, amazing. Manly. He was wearing one of the ridiculous convict shirts, the neckline stretched out by someone’s rough grab. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he had a streak of dirt on his arm that blended in with the tattoo. With his arm exposed, I could see it was large enough to creep up his forearm and over his biceps. Although he was dark complected and tan, the tattoo stood out in stark contrast. I hadn’t been wild about tattoos in general before, but on Gray…it totally melted my butter. I had to wonder if he had any others, and if so, where?

  “No, the one with the dark close-cropped hair.”

  Simon looked where I pointed, his brows going up. “Holy shit, Em. That’s the guy?”

  I nodded.

  “I can see why he made you nervous. He’s fucking hot and nothing like a guy you’d normally be interested in.”

  There was that word again. Normal.

  “I know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what it is about him.” I turned to Simon, hoping he’d truly understand, because I sure didn’t. “I mean, he’s got tattoos! But when I saw him Friday night my heart stopped and my brain went to mush. I swear I had a hot flash.”

  He looked at me over the top of his sunglasses, serious. “Maybe he’s the kind of guy you need and just never knew.”

  We sat in silence, watching the game. Had I been interested in all the wrong guys? It wasn't like I had much chance to find out. Being pregnant at nineteen, married and with a baby at twenty didn’t offer much opportunity to play the field. Of course, Jack had decided he’d wanted more and ditched me for a newer model. Maybe a guy like Gray was exactly what I needed. He wasn't normal. He sure as hell would push my boundaries.

  I watched his body as he played the game and tried not to drool. Muscles tightened and flexed in ways that had me taking a big swig of my soda just to cool off. What would it be like to kiss him, to run my hands over that body, to have his weight pin me up against a wall? Those thoughts made butterflies return to my stomach and scared the crap out of me at the same time.

  I hadn’t even realized there was a ref until he blew the whistle. I obviously wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to the game, only Gray and he'd only had the ball a few times. The men worked their way to the sidelines, exhausted and sweating, slapping each other on the back or giving a man hug. I couldn’t tell by the looks on their faces who’d won or lost. The camaraderie was surprising, considering they’d just been tackling the crap out of each other.

  Gray was drinking from a water bottle when he saw me. His eyes narrowed and I felt once again frozen in place as if he had a freeze ray stare. He swallowed, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and smiled. With a little bob of his head as hello, he held up one finger. He didn’t look away until I nodded back.

  “Jesus, Em,” Simon whispered.

  While Gray talked with other players, Simon leaned in and said, “You can bring me to watch anytime.” I glanced up and he waggled his eyebrows. I grinned. Not having a boyfriend at the moment, Simon was no doubt checking out the possibilities, but I was only interested in Gray.

  A minute later, Gray walked over to us, a teammate with him. Although he'd looked pretty darn fine the other night in a suit and tie, wearing shorts and a T-shirt, sweaty and dirty, Gray looked downright sexy. Rugged and manly. This was his element. H
is chest and shoulders were clearly delineated, his biceps thick and bulging, his thighs and calves well defined. Everything about him was powerful, and the way he watched me now was seriously intense. I licked my lips and saw his eyes drop to follow the action.

  Simon and I stood as they got closer.

  “Hi,” he said, stopping directly before me. “I’m glad you could make it.”

  “I just so happened to be in the park.” I swiped my hand through the air. “Big coincidence.”

  He gave a quick laugh, reminded by what he’d said on Friday night. It felt good, really good, to make him laugh. For once, I said something right. He angled his head. “This is my friend Rob.”

  “Everyone calls me Thor,” the other man added, his voice deep. He held up his hands. “I’d shake your hand, but you probably would rather not.” Streaks of mud and sweat covered his palms.

  I could see why he got the nickname. He had two inches on Gray, making him a giant. Football linebacker big. Hot dog eating contest winner huge. Dark hair, dark eyes, square jaw, goatee.

  “I like your team spirit,” he added. “Looks better on her than us, don’t you think, Gray?”

  I frowned, confused. He pointed to my tank top. Glancing down, I realized my shirt was also black-and-white stripe.

  “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be accused of rooting for the other team,” I countered with a smile, then shrugged as if it were no big deal. “This is my neighbor, Simon.”

  Simon shook Gray’s hand and nodded at Thor.

  “Hey, wow. I didn’t recognize you at first, but it’s a pleasure,” Simon gushed, practically ogling Gray. “How are you enjoying retirement?”

  Simon knew Gray? Baltimore was a big city, so what were the chances?

  Gray glanced at me as he answered. “Getting better every day. Everyone usually goes to the bar down the street after the game. Want to join us?”

  Simon looked to me to answer. He was waiting for me to decide if he was still needed or not. Since he and Gray seemed to know each other, he’d probably want to tag along, but he seemed to have the wingman thing down. He gave me a little head nod and I knew he was giving his personal green light on Gray.

  This was it, the moment between a life of normal and a life of…God, I could only imagine. “I’d like to go, but Simon has something to do.”

  Simon smiled broadly, clearly thrilled I was content not to need him to tag along. If I'd said otherwise, Gray would blatantly know Simon was sticking around for me and that would only embarrass me more. Besides, it would make Gray think I thought he was a lech or something and I needed a chaperone, which was the farthest thing from the truth.

  “Yeah, I have plans,” Simon said, but everyone knew he was lying through his teeth. “Another time, however. Definitely.” He turned to me. “Do you want me to take your car?”

  I paused. “Oh, um. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “I’ll drive you home later,” Gray offered.

  Simon raised a brow, waiting. Pulling my keys from my little purse that I had slung cross-shoulder, he took them, gave me a wink, then grabbed the blanket and cooler.

  “Thanks, Simon,” I called out as he left.

  He spun and replied as he walked backward. “Anytime.” He gave a little salute and turned.

  Gray watched me closely, silently.

  “I’ll have to catch up with you,” Thor told us. “My wife’s going to kill me if I don’t get home. Kids,” he added, as if that clarified everything.

  “How old are they?” I asked. This was a topic I was familiar and comfortable with.

  “Four and six. Boys.”

  I nodded, a little wistful. It was at rare moments when I longed to see my son, to hear his voice, even to have him little again. “I remember that age. It’s hard.”

  Gray looked to me, his face neutral. “You have kids?”

  “Yes, a son.”

  By his look, I couldn’t tell if he was okay with this or not. Some men wanted a woman with no strings attached, and a kid was a big string. A guy with kid issues was an obvious deal breaker for me. Chris might be in college, but he wasn’t going anywhere. This wasn’t a real date so it wasn’t as if Gray was going to end it. It hadn’t even started.

  Thor gave me the look of a suffering parent. “Then you can understand.” He ran his hand through his goatee. “The babysitter comes in an hour so Laura can join us at the bar. A few hours of just grownups.”

  “I’m past the babysitting stage now,” I shared. “Some things get easier.”

  His smile slipped and looked as if I’d kicked his puppy. “Only some things?”

  I laughed at the forlorn look on such a brute of a man. “Only some things.”

  “How old is your son?” Gray asked.

  “Eighteen.”

  Both men stared at me, stunned. Thor's mouth even dropped open.

  “Eighteen? Holy hell, woman,” Thor said. “You were just a baby when you had him. Is he a senior this year? Can he babysit?” His look changed to eagerness at the idea of a possible babysitter.

  “I was twenty, so not much of a baby. And no, he’s in college.”

  “They actually leave the house?” Thor sounded very eager for the idea. Toddlers were insane and exhausting and he was probably questioning his reasons for having them in the first place right about now.

  I patted him reassuringly on his sweaty arm, the muscle beneath my palm rock hard. “They do, but it’s hard now that he’s gone. My job is done.” I tried to keep my voice light, but I’m sure it sounded wistful.

  “Where does he go to school?” Gray questioned.

  “Naval Academy.”

  “Very impressive,” Thor added. “You must be really proud of him. Look, I’ve got to go or Laura will bury me in the backyard. I’ll catch up with you guys later?”

  Both Gray and I nodded and Thor jogged off.

  People were packing up and leaving, the two of us almost the only ones left from the game. “So…” I let the word hang as I glanced up at him, unsure of myself, of standing in the middle of an empty field with him. Had it been a bad idea to come after all? “Do…do you still want me to go with you?”

  He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  I looked down at my bright pink toenails, swiped my foot over the blades of grass. “I’m a mother.”

  Leaning down, he looked me in the eye and I had to meet his steady gaze. “From what I gather, a pretty good one.”

  The compliment made me smile, although somewhat shyly. I had to know where he stood because I could walk away now with only a dent in my pride. I knew if I spent much time with him there was a chance I could be truly hurt. “That’s not going to change. Being a mother, I mean. Does that bother you?”

  “If you said you had a five-year-old, it might. Not because of the reasons you think.”

  I lifted my chin, waiting. I’d wanted honesty.

  “I had a shitty childhood and I’m not a good bet for kids. I’d break them or damage them mentally. Something. But if your boy is at the Naval Academy, he sounds more like a man to me. I doubt I can ruin someone that old.”

  Those weren’t the words I expected. Too much baggage, too much effort for someone else’s kids, perhaps. Lots of possibilities. But I never thought he'd say he was flawed, damaged enough that he wasn’t worthy. To me, from the little bit I knew about him, that didn’t seem possible.

  The conversation had gotten heavy pretty fast, so I just nodded and moved on. “I didn’t know you and Simon knew each other. From where?”

  He looked at me suspiciously. “You really don’t know, do you?”

  I felt like I was missing the punch line of a joke. “Know what?” Then it came to me. Oh shit. I backed up a step, realizing my gaffe and pasted on a fake smile. “You’re gay. Why didn’t you tell me you were gay? It doesn’t bother me, if you were afraid to tell me. I mean—”

  “Emory,” he cut in, shaking his head, hand up. I think he actually rolled his eyes at me. “I’m not gay.”<
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  I sighed in relief. Not that I cared that he was gay, but that I didn’t want him to be gay. I wanted him to like women, preferably me.

  “I’ve never met Simon before, but he knows me. Knows of me. I’m well known in the MMA community.” When I frowned once again, he added, “That’s Mixed Martial Arts. I’m sure you’ve seen it before on TV or a commercial or something. I did that professionally a while ago and won some big fights. I’ve retired from fighting now.”

  I cocked my head and looked at him, thinking maybe I’d recognize him or something, but I didn’t follow the fight scene and I would have remembered him before. “Are you saying you’re famous?”

  He ran his hand over the back of his neck. Clearly being famous wasn’t something he wanted to share with me. “Sort of, but not that famous if you haven’t heard of me.”

  “I don’t even know your last name.”

  “Green. Grayson Green.”

  “Yeah, never heard of you.” I grinned, but it slipped. “Does it bother you that I didn’t recognize you?” Had I hurt his feelings? I fiddled with the leather strap of my purse. I’d never met a famous person before.

  “Hell, no.” His vehemence had me looking up at him. “I’m glad actually. A lot of people try to get close to me because of what I did, not who I am.”

  I bit my lip and thought about how that must feel. “That must be pretty annoying.”

  He clenched his jaw. “You have no idea.”

  I didn’t know much about him, but definitely wanted to know more. “So. About that lunch? I’m starved.”

  It was Gray’s turn to grin. “I still want to have lunch with a woman who has a kid and you still want to have lunch with a famous guy.”

  I nodded. “Exactly.”

  Something flared in his eyes, bright and hot. “I’d like for you to be within five feet of me today, maybe even hold your hand again, so I need to shower. I stink. Would you mind if we stopped at my gym so I can get cleaned up first?”