Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3)(25)
“Reagan’s around here somewhere. The guys will have a team meeting after this dies down a bit. Do you want to grab a drink? Oh wait, you’ve got Zach.”
“Yes, and while I lifted his grounding to attend tonight, he’s got to serve the rest of it out, no questions asked.” Why was it that nobody told you when you became a mother, your child’s punishment was just as much your punishment?
“Understood. We’ll do a rain check.” Marianne rubbed Kara’s arms briefly. “I’m glad you came, though. I saw you cover your face a few times—”
“More than a few,” Kara admitted.
“—but you stayed, so that was big. Reagan still battles back nausea half the time.”
“Speaking of our professional lady, where is she?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere talking to a media person, maybe. Or taking photos to tweet out. Who knows?” Marianne grinned as Brad walked up behind, wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her back against his chest. “Hey, handsome.”
Sensing the couple would want some privacy, she congratulated Brad on his win, then asked if he’d seen Zach.
“I think I saw him with Graham. They were walking toward the parking lot. Probably wanted some fresh air.”
“Thanks. Great job,” she told them both, then hurried off to catch her son before he conned Graham, or someone else, into helping him extend his day off from grounding.
As she rounded the corner that would lead her to the parking lot, she heard her son’s voice. She slowed, wanting to catch him in the act of deception before accusing him.
“But you totally could have kicked his ass,” Zach said, deep confusion in his voice. Kara winced at the use of the word “ass,” but held her tongue and listened.
“Sometimes, winning early isn’t the right choice.” There was a pause, then, “There’s not always honor in kicking someone who can’t keep up. It’s a fine line between patronizing the guy—you know what patronizing means, right?”
Zach scoffed, and she could almost see his eyes rolling in the back of his head. “Yeah. I’m ten, not two.”
“A wise guy.” The amused tone of Graham’s deep voice made her smile. “You can’t patronize him, ’cause then it’s almost worse. But there’s no point in coming out and aiming for the knock out. Not when he’s got family here to watch him, and he’s working his as— sorry, butt off to compete. There’s no honor in that. So you use the chance to learn something new. Try out a new technique. Improve your footwork. It’s a chance to learn, not to kick someone whose skills aren’t up to your level and think that’ll make you feel good.”
They were both quiet, and she sensed Zach was absorbing the information. Her heart swelled a little at Graham taking the opportunity to give her son an important lesson, and in an age-appropriate way. She rounded the corner and found them both leaning against the wall across from the doors. Graham’s back was against the brick, with one knee bent and the foot flat against the wall. Zach’s posture mimicked the older man’s, and she struggled to not run up and hug him and beg him to not grow up too fast.
“Mom.” Straightening, Zach bounced over to her. Still a boy in so many ways. Just not for much longer. “Graham says we can get ice cream, and he’ll even drive all the way across town to that place we can eat at.” Meaning the one ice cream place locally that managed to cater to all his allergy requirements.
“That’s a very sweet offer,” she said to both Zach and Graham, resisting the urge to run a hand over his hair. “But you’re still grounded, and it’s getting late anyway.”
It was hard to watch her son’s eyes darken as he realized he wouldn’t get his way. So she added, “Maybe another day.”
“Hey, I’ll do ice cream anytime.” Graham walked up to them, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “I’ll walk out with you.”
Zach filled the three minute walk to Kara’s car with enthusiastic retellings of his favorite moments of the night. Up to and including cartoon-esque sound effects as he thrust his fists into thin air. “Bam! Pow!”
As they reached her car, she unlocked it and gave Zach the silent stare that meant, Get in and don’t argue. You’re on shaky ground. He understood at once and got in without another word. Finally.
Then there were two. She rocked back on her heels, clutching her tote as a lifeline. Otherwise, she might embarrass herself by clawing at his chest and trying to rip his T-shirt off. The man shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothing. It was criminal to cover up that much perfection. “You, uh . . . you did really . . . good.”
Brilliant, Kara. And next, you can make a lackluster comment about the weather.
He grinned slowly, those sinful lips curving to reveal bright white teeth. “Thanks. The competition felt pretty great. Hope we’re ready for the All Military games.”
“You look ready. You looked amazing.” She blinked as his eyes darkened. “I mean, your boxing. You know, your . . . bam. Pow.”
Oh, my God. I just said that. Someone please direct me to the nearest hole in which I could crawl into.
He chuckled softly. “I know what you meant. And you look amazing, too.” He stepped closer to her, taking a gentle hold of her elbow. “Pow,” he said, leaning in for a kiss.