Strong and Steady Read online

  I nodded. “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 child 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 on the field 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 shi—bad childhood, and I’m not a good bet for little 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. “You can say swear words. I promise I won’t make you wash your mouth out.”

  He grinned. “I’ll try, but I’m a country boy at heart.”

  “Just don’t ma’am me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I laughed, as he’d probably wanted, and I changed the subject. “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. “Oh. 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.”

  I sighed in relief. Not that I cared if he was gay, but 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. But everyone knows me as The Outlaw.”

  I frowned. “The Outlaw? Not The Cowboy?” I looked him over. He wasn’t wearing that sexy snap shirt today but still. Damn fine in shorts and t-shirt. “That would totally work.”

  He shook his head. “That name’s already been taken.”

  “Grayson Green, The Outlaw. 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.” He tugged at the front of his sweaty T-shirt. “Would you mind if we stopped at my gym, so I can get cleaned up first?”

  6

  GRAY

  * * *

  Holy shit. The woman had a son. A grown son who went to the Naval Academy, which was one of the hardest schools to get into in the country, which meant the kid was fucking smart. Not only that, the kid was willing to dedicate his life to the service of the country. This wasn’t some kid with an undecided major joining a fraternity at a state school, so he could party his four years away. Emory had made a man. A man who was most likely going to go off to war. She was here, calm as could be, knowing that could easily be in his future. I knew what it was like to be the kid on deployment, but I’d never thought of it from a mother’s perspective. She was fucking brave, and that had me admiring her so much. I’d be shitting a brick if my child broke a finger, let alone shipped off to some desert battle.

  I’d joined the Marines right out of high school to escape my father, the ranch and the hell he’d made my life and did enough tours to see evil and knew what her son would see—and live—firsthand. How it changed you. Scarred you. Made you hard. Because of this, but especially my dad, I’d learned how to fight well enough—and started at a young age—to become a professional when I got out. Won world
championships. Built an empire around my name. Then, retiring, I used all that to build a gym of my own, to create new champions. I’d done a lot, accomplished a lot. Was famous for it. Made a shitload of money. Still did from fighters and sponsors. But that was fuck-all compared to what Emory had done, and for part of it, it seemed, alone. And she was worried I’d not be interested in her? The opposite in fact. My interest in her only grew. The question was, when would she realize I was just The Outlaw, a fuck-up from a ranch in Wyoming, and decide to walk away?

  I opened the truck door for her, admiring her long, tanned legs as she slid into the seat. Once the engine was on, I rolled down the windows. “Might be better with a little fresh air, so I don’t scare you off. I’m pretty ripe.” I picked a blade of grass off my dirty shirt and tossed it out the window.

  She looked me up and down in a way that had me shifting in my seat. It wasn’t blatant, but she’d scoped me out, and I couldn’t tell if her cheeks were pink from being caught or from the heat of the car.

  “Flag football, huh? I pictured you more on the back of a bull or something.”

  I grinned. “Picked up that I was a cowboy, huh?”

  “Snap shirts don’t lie,” she replied with a smile.

  I’d grown up on a ranch in Wyoming, one of the biggest in the state, but I never wanted to step foot on the property again. My job, my life, was in Brant Valley now, but I had my ranch, my own land to go to whenever I needed to get away from it all. I could work the land, fix fences, do cowboy shit all fucking day long if I wanted. Without the nightmare of my dad.

  “I can ride a horse, but I prefer to stay on it,” I replied instead of sharing all that. “As for flag football, it’s fun.” I looked over my shoulder and pulled out into traffic.

  “I’m an expert on soccer, basketball and track, not so much football.”

  “Your son?”

  “Yes. His name is Chris. Sorry, I don’t mean to talk about him.” She tucked a curl behind her ear as the wind picked up.

  I stopped at a red light and turned to look at her. Even with the windows open, I could pick up her scent. Something flowery or fruity, maybe coconut. Shampoo? Whatever the hell it was, it was going to drive me insane when I switched to air conditioning. I just hoped she didn’t smell me just as easily. “Why? He’s your son.”

  “Yeah, but most guys aren’t interested in hearing about kids.”

  I gripped the wheel. “Now you’re hurting my feelings. I’m not most guys, Emory.”

  Even with the heat, I could see her blush this time. She bit her lip but met my gaze. “Wow, you’re right. I’m sorry.” I saw her throat work as she swallowed. “I told you I wasn’t good at this. It’s been a long time… a really long time.”

  “How long is really long?” Six months? A year?

  “I was nineteen when I dated Jack, my ex. I got pregnant and then got married quick. Since the divorce, I've gone on a few—two—blind dates, and they were bad.” The way she said the last led me to believe they'd turned her off dating entirely. “It's safe to say I haven't really dated in this century.”

  Holy shit. How long had it been then? No guy had claimed her since her divorce? Jesus, what was wrong with the guys in this town? Hopefully, their fuck up was my gain.

  “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a guy, so I’m probably going to mess up a lot. I’m giving you advanced warning, but you probably already knew that from the other night.”

  She wasn’t a virgin, but she might as well have been because she was so damn innocent, so… sweet that it was fucking incredible. She wasn’t playing games because she didn’t even know how. That meant it was my job to put her at ease and make her feel safe in her time with me. Safe just to be Emory and nothing else. No guile, no angles.

  I gave a small head shake. “You aren’t supposed to do anything except sit there looking so damn pretty and talk to me. Okay?” The light switched to green, and I shifted into gear. “How about you tell me about your job.”

  She looked at me for a long moment then leaned her head back against the headrest and sighed. “I’m a nurse practitioner. I work in the ER.”

  “Impressive. That must be pretty intense.”

  “I just started there in the spring after working in hospital administration for years. It had a better schedule for dealing with a high schooler. I’d rather be hands on, though, with patients, so the ER is definitely the place to be now that he’s away at school.”

  “Brant Valley’s got some rough edges. I’m sure you’ve seen some bad stuff.” I paused, drummed my fingers on the wheel, thinking of the shit she saw on a daily basis. It wasn’t the most dangerous city in the country, but hell, every town in America had crime. Drugs. Wife beaters. “That’s why you wouldn’t drink the water I gave you.”

  “See, I’m not actually that crazy. I’m just experienced.” She covered her face with her hands, groaned. “Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that.”

  I grinned at her slip. She was so damn sweet. “That’s good to know.”

  She laughed off her mistake. “I’ve just learned a lot, the hard way.”

  And that made her wise. Knowledgeable about life. It gave her so much more than all the groupies I’d ever met. Emory had lived, survived and still was so fucking innocent in so many ways. The thought that a guy like me might touch her and tarnish her, to wear that innocence away had me downshifting and snapping us against our seat belts around a turn.

  It wasn’t just her sweetness that I was drawn to. Her ponytail whipped around from the breeze as I drove the ten minutes to my building, and the scent of her shampoo—it was fucking coconut—was driving me insane. It was hard to keep my eye on the road when her toned thighs were on display. Thank God for shorts. The thoughts I had of her at the moment were anything but sweet.

  “Simon seems nice,” I said, trying to make conversation when all I wanted to do was pull the car over, undo her seat belt and pull her onto my lap.

  “He’s lived next door a few years now and has been a good friend. Plus, he comes in very handy. He picked out the shoes I wore the other night.”

  I glanced down her legs again. This time her words allowed me the chance.

  “The heels?” I remembered those shoes well and spent Friday night thinking about them. The simple flip-flops she wore now were pretty sexy, too, with those bright, shiny nails. Hell, she’d probably be sexy if she wore a burlap sack. “I need to thank him.”

  She turned her head and glanced at me, but I couldn’t read her eyes behind her sunglasses. “Oh?”

  “Those shoes looked damn hot, and he came to the game with you. More importantly, he left you alone with me. That makes him a great wingman.”

  Her mouth opened, and then she snapped it shut. “I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.” She ran her palms over her shorts. Nerves? “I brought him because I wanted to be—”

  “Safe.” I finished for her, keeping my eyes on the road. “I get it. Really. If I’d turned out to be a psycho, you’d have him to get you out of there. Shows you’re really smart, and I like that.”

  “You think I’ve ruled you out as being psycho?” She tilted her head to look at me. Ah, she had sass, too.

  I shifted my eyes from the road. “You got in the car, didn’t you?”

  She didn’t respond as I pulled into the parking lot of my building. It was brick, modern and three stories. The ground floor was a combination of my gym and other businesses that rented the space. There were two floors of apartments above. I’d bought it a few years ago as an investment when I set up my gym and had the top floor retrofitted into just one apartment for me. Living above the gym made life simple. It wasn’t two thousand acres of open grassland, but it was home sweet home.

  Hopping out of the car, I dashed around before she could open the door for herself. I really wanted one more glance at her legs and the hint of cleavage that her tank top exposed before she climbed out. I was a gentleman, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t look.

&nbs
p; “This is my gym.” I pointed to the entrance. “My apartment’s upstairs. Would you feel more comfortable if I showered in the gym, or would you be okay coming up to my apartment?”

  She glanced up at the building then at me. “Oh.” Taking her sunglasses off, she frowned. I could finally see her dark eyes. A chocolate brown several shades lighter than my own. She wore a hint of makeup, nothing like Friday night, and she looked like the girl next door. I couldn’t decide which look I liked better. Fortunately, I didn’t have to decide. Both did it for me.

  “God, Gray, I owe you an apology. You’ve been nothing but nice, and I’ve been… cautious and that has made you out to look like a… a… creep.” She reached her hand out to touch me but must have thought twice about the action and let her hand drop. “There’s wary, and then there’s rude. I’m sorry. Your apartment’s fine. I won’t run away screaming. I promise.”

  I gave her a small nod of acknowledgement and led her toward the entrance for the residences. I used the fob on my keychain to gain entry to the lobby by placing it on the sensor on the exterior wall. “I wouldn’t promise anything yet—my place is a mess.” I pushed the button for the elevator.

  She smiled, clearly relieved I’d let her insecurity slide. The doors opened. “You can’t be worse than a teenage boy.”

  Once we were inside and used my key fob once again to access my floor, I moved closer to her. “I’m glad you’re wary because that means you protect yourself. I understand because that’s my job, to help people defend themselves. I’m also glad you feel safe with me. Like I said the other night, I won’t hurt you. No one will hurt you when you’re with me. That’s a promise.”

  7

  EMORY

  * * *

  The elevator was small, yet when Gray moved my way, it felt downright claustrophobic. He loomed over me, and I had to tilt my head back to hold his dark gaze. A frisson of electricity passed between us, and I didn’t know what he was going to do. Was he going to kiss me? I literally gulped at the idea of his mouth on mine. He didn’t scare me, not in the sense that I feared for my safety, but I was definitely scared of how he made me feel. This, this, whatever the hell it was, was making me lose control of my body. With Gray around, it had a mind of its own.