Fighter(8)

“Please.” My head fell back against the seat. “Don’t call me that.”

A low chuckle was my answer as he shut the door and hurried around to his side. People continued to stream out of the bar as he backed out. Looking in the rearview mirror, he said, “So tell me, was this your plan all along? To get me alone?”

“What are you talking about?”

He laughed again, but his eyes were intent on the crowd behind us, so I didn’t think he was laughing at me. He shook his head and made a soft clicking sound. “I saw your brothers during the first fight. I was trying to figure out how to get out of there without running into any of them. Was that your plan? To help me escape?” He cast a look at my ankle. “The helpless invalid look threw me for a loop until I figured out you weren’t acting. You really are helpless tonight. Not your usual look, Doily, but it’s kinda turning me on.” He turned onto the road and winked at me.

I sighed. Shit. My insides were turning all gooey, and I hated being gooey. I was tough. I was badass. He flashed me another grin as he turned onto a gravel road, and my heart leapt a little in my chest.

I was a screwed girl. Then I tuned in and realized he wasn’t taking me home. Leaning forward, I started studying the road. When I saw Old Man Frampton’s farm, I gasped. “What are you doing? Take me home.”

“Nope.”

“Jaxon.” I frowned. He lived in the opposite direction, so he wasn’t taking me to his place either.

He ignored me and kept driving. As he did, I studied him. I should’ve been paying attention to where we were going, but I knew how to get home from Old Man Frampton’s farm, so I figured I could guess at directions when I called Haley to come and get me. Right now I took advantage of this time while Jax was concentrating on the road. He was rarely sidetracked. He was usually a man on a mission, and most of the time that mission had been to get in my pants when we were together. He succeeded eight out of ten times too—a fact he never boasted about, but I knew he was proud of.

This time, though, he wasn’t focused on me, so my eyes roamed all over him, drinking in the sight. His black shorts rode low, and he hadn’t put a shirt on, so I could watch as his chest rose and fell, illuminating his lean build. Then I noticed the fresh bruises, and a pang went through me. Scooting closer so I could see better, I reached to touch one on his ribs, but he caught my hand.

“Easy there, city slicker,” he drawled, looking down at me. There wasn’t much space separating us. “You’ll get me all excited, and we’ll be having another impromptu picnic, midnight style.”

I flushed at the reminder. There’d been another time when I’d scooted close to him, started caressing him because he’d been hot, I’d been horny, and I’d had too much wine while I was waiting for him to pick me up. We never got to the restaurant and ended up eating old crackers after we pulled off into a field to satisfy some of my more urgent needs. A new rush of excitement came over me. I’d missed these times with Jaxon. He was unpredictable and delicious in so many ways, but I forced myself to imagine a cold bucket of water raining over me. I needed to cool down.

Jump first. Think later. That’s how life with Jaxon had been. I’d been in too much trouble, and I’d fought hard to stay clear of all that at college. I couldn’t start living life with that mantra again.

“Where are you taking me?” I murmured. “You know my brothers can track my phone.” I slipped my hand inside my pocket. My pocket was empty. He’d grabbed it.

Jax just waited, the cocky smirk permanently etched on his face.

I jerked upright in my seat. “What’d you do with it?” I hit his arm. “That was an expensive phone.”

“Relax, Doily. When I picked you up back at the bar, it fell out of your pocket. I might’ve kicked it under a counter. No one will find it there.” He glanced at me sideways. “I’m assuming it was on silent?”

I groaned. “Yeah.” He was right. If he kicked it far enough under a counter, it’d probably remain there until my brothers tracked it down. Sally’s wasn’t known for their cleanliness. It’d be safe from anyone sweeping underneath.

“Look, Doily—”

“Dale,” I snapped.

“Doily—”

I gritted my teeth.

He kept going as if I’d never interrupted him, a slight chuckle in his voice. “I can’t drop you off at your place. I’m not stupid. Your brothers will be there waiting for me, and there’s no way I’m taking you back to my place. I’m sure they got that staked out too. I’ll go in. I promise. You can take me yourself after my last fight, but I can’t go to jail right now. If I do, that’s an automatic disqualification to fight, and I have to win this tournament.”

“Why?”

He glanced at me again. I could sense the hesitation.

My eyes narrowed. “Out with it, Jaxon. I can either help you avoid my brothers, or I can make your life hell. You pick. Tell me what’s going on, why there’s even a warrant out for you, and I might help.”

He seemed to be holding his breath, then he let it out in a rush and muttered, “What the hell am I doing? Fuck it. Fine.” He looked at me again, just as we drove under a light post. It slid shadows over his face, illuminating his cheekbones, and for a moment, it gave him a deadly presence. Then the shifting of darkness and light were gone, and I heard the old Jaxon start talking, but with a serious note to his voice.