Caged (Mastered, #4)(110)
They were the last ones to travel, along with Deacon, Beck, Blaze, Fisher, Jaz, Riggins, Zach, and Jon-Dean.
Black Arts would have an imposing presence at the expo.
Tonight was the big party sponsored by Black and Blue Promotions. According to what Amery had told her, Black Arts MMA and Black and Blue Promotions had spared no expense for this trip. They’d booked an entire wing in the swanky hotel next to the convention center where the expo was located.
Since Deacon had slipped into his normal, brooding persona on the flight, Molly looked out the window and tried to imagine what the next three days had in store for her. She and Presley had obsessed over what to wear to the big party. Finally Chaz had come to their rescue and taken them to Natasha’s, an exclusive boutique with vintage—aka used—designer clothing.
While Molly hemmed and hawed over the prices of the outfits, Chaz had reminded her they were called “special occasion” dresses for a reason. Not only that, but she had to look professional from the moment she stepped on the plane. Chaz had assured both her and Presley they could get by wearing a smart pantsuit while they helped finalize party preparations.
“Why so quiet, babe?” Deacon asked.
“Just following your lead, babe.”
He kissed her cheek. “Smart-ass.”
“Maybe I should ask what happened to your good mood.”
Deacon snagged her hand and played with her fingers. “My dad called.”
“I wondered who was calling so early.”
“He forgets about the time change.”
“What did he want?”
“To tell me he won’t be at the Needham fight.”
Her heart sank for him. “What? Why not?”
“Evidently Julianne has to have surgery.”
“On a Saturday?”
“No. She’s having it Friday afternoon. She needs someone to stay with her, and she insists on it being him.”
“Deacon, I’m sorry. That sucks.”
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I can tell him not to be with his wife.” Deacon looked at her. “You’ll be there.”
“Of course. I’ll be wearing my CON MAN ROCKS MY FUCKING WORLD T-shirt.”
His lips twitched.
“Is there a chance Needham will be at this expo?”
“Don’t care. It’ll be interesting to see where Maddox found practice space for us. Since he insists on closed practices.”
“This close to a fight, it’s gotta be a full training facility, right?”
Beck turned around in his seat. “I know where it’ll be. It’s one of two places.”
“Where?”
“House of Kenji has two affiliated dojos in LA. It’s private membership, so no public-access issues.”
“Makes sense.”
“I’ve taught in both places. Top-of-the-line facilities.”
Molly listened to them talk. Her focus wasn’t on Deacon for a change, but on Beck. The man was deceptively good-looking. At first glance he didn’t appear to be anything special—not like the immediate, visceral punch of Deacon—but upon a more thorough examination, the man had it going on. A narrow face that broadened into ruggedly handsome when he smiled with those full lips. Wide green eyes that imparted tranquility. A flat nose—she’d yet to meet a fighter or a martial arts practitioner who hadn’t broken their beak at least once. Like any man whose livelihood depended on the strength and condition of his body, Beck’s physique could inspire female fantasies. But the most striking thing about him was his hair. The most glorious color of red—not orange, but cinnamon colored, with darker strands of mahogany, gold, and auburn. He wore it long—long enough to pull back and create a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
“Molly?” Deacon prompted.
Dammit. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed her study of his Shihan. “Sorry. I’ve got a million things on my mind. What did you say?”
“I’ll be at the hotel more than Deacon since he’s training, so if you need anything, call me.”
“Is this a Deacon-approved offer?” she half joked. “Because he tends to get snarly if other men offer to help me. Or look at me.”
“Like I didn’t know that,” Beck said dryly.
“He’s the only one of any guys here besides Ronin and Knox I’ll trust you with,” Deacon said.
“Gee. Thanks for the vote of confidence. There goes me banging Sergei in the utility closet.”
“Not even funny, babe.”
Beck turned around.
Molly looked out the window. Sometimes Deacon overwhelmed her.
“Why’d you turn away from me?” He set his hand on her thigh.
“I’m hoping to get a glimpse of the ocean.”
“Really.”
“Really. I’ve never seen the ocean. Seeing it from the plane might be my only chance.”
“Molly, look at me.”
“I don’t want to. So just . . . go back to not talking to me.”
“You’re mad.”
“Mostly confused.”
“About?”
“About why you say stuff like He’s the only one of the guys here besides Ronin and Knox I’d trust you with. You have this crazy idea that all men lust after me, when it’s not even remotely close to true. If I even talk to another man—or heaven forbid a strange man talks to me—you turn into Deacon the Beast.” She paused. “I like Deacon the Beast in bed. I like Deacon the Beast in the ring. But I don’t like Deacon the Beast glaring and throwing down ultimatums at me and at his friends. Do you really think I’m looking at any of them when I could be looking at you? Do you really think when I’m out in mixed company I’m checking out other men as a possible replacement for you? I want you. No one else. The fact that I have you? I wouldn’t f*ck that up. This—you mean too much to me.”