The Fighter (The High Rise, Book 1) Page 8

  He sits up suddenly, his hand holding the ice bag moving to the top of the couch back. His hand underneath my shirt slides up farther to the middle of my back then he drops his forehead to my shoulder and bursts out laughing.

  I sit there a bit stiff because of his familiarity with me but find myself relaxing since it actually feels right.

  He pulls back and looks at me, still chuckling and shaking his head. “First time I’ve laughed in a long time.” He leaves the bag on the back of the couch and slips his hand under my hair and to the back of my neck. His eyes crinkle at the sides with humor as he explains, “I’m a construction project manager, Laney. My guys built the club and I was there last night making sure everything was working right.”

  “Oh,” I whisper. I can’t hold back any longer and bring my hand up to lightly touch the side of his face where his eye’s blackened. “Does it hurt much?”

  He shakes his head and his eyes drop to my lips then slowly back up to meet mine. We stare at each other for a moment, the air around us thick with tension before he murmurs, “Fuck it,” and leans in brushing his lips over mine.

  My hand at the side of his face drifts to the back of his head and I kiss him back lightly, minding his cut lip. When I pull away thinking I’m probably hurting him, his hand at my neck pulls me forward and he suddenly crashes his lips against mine. I’m guessing it’s not hurting him too much since his tongue now finds mine, tangling with it agilely as he prolongs the kiss. I taste beer and moan because that’s just hot, I couldn’t tell you why, at the same time his arm tightens around me pulling me closer, his hand curling around to my side where his fingers lightly skim against the side of my breast.

  Gah! I want him so badly!

  I lean back, pulling him with me, our lips staying locked as he rises up to his knees and then I’m lying flat on the couch, he’s on top of me and goal accomplished. I wrap an arm around his strong back, my fingers clutching at his t-shirt, my other hand is in his hair tugging because it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed anyone and I’ve missed it. A lot. I’m sure he realizes this by now since I’m practically devouring him.

  And then I’m not.

  I’m breathing heavily as I look up at him. He’s pulled away and is looking down at me as if he’s trying to make a decision, his breath coming hard also. And, God, he looks good, the bruising underneath his eye and the cut on his lip making him look so badass.

  “So goddamned beautiful,” he says quietly, touching his lips to mine before burying his face in my hair at the side of my neck, breathing in deep. Suddenly a groan rumbles from deep inside his chest and he draws his head back again, his eyes piercing mine. I see the muscles in his jaws ticking then he lets out a breath before uttering, “Do not think that what I do next means I don’t want to fuck you so hard my name becomes a fucking prayer on your lips.”

  He gives me a contrite look and the next thing I know he’s standing by the couch looking down at me.

  “G’night, Laney.”

  And then he’s gone.

  Ten

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask myself as I walk down the hall to my apartment.

  I don’t know if I’m questioning myself for leaving a hot, gorgeous ready and willing woman on the sofa or if I’m asking why I went there with her to begin with.

  “Motherfucker,” I mumble as I unlock my door.

  But let me just say, leaving Laney on that couch was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. In my defense, I am somewhat inebriated and didn’t think it was the greatest idea to sleep with her tonight because of that very reason.

  After we left the fights and hit the bar, Matt and I celebrated our victories pretty zealously. Enough so that we had to call for a ride and he left his car at the bar. So I knew I was fairly loaded when I saw Laney at the elevator and all I’d meant to do was to give her a hard time, not have her get me fucking hard.

  Jesus.

  But the way she acted when she saw my eye and lip, well, come on. What guy’s going to turn down getting attention from a gorgeous woman? Certainly not me. Until I found myself in an awkward position and knew I needed to get the hell out of there because when I fuck her, and I do plan on fucking her, I intend on being stone-cold sober.

  Since meeting her, I’ve had a private investigator friend do a background check on her and so far he’s come up with nothing, so I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure she’s not involved with the shit her family’s doing on the side; therefore, as far as I’m concerned, I’m going to pursue her.

  Now, am I talking anything permanent with her? Hell no. Because believe me, when a man wants to fuck a woman for the first time, we’re not thinking any further than the basics. I’ll spare you the details.

  And I want to fuck Laney.

  So for this reason, wanting a relationship with her is not even on the menu.

  But the more I think about it, if something long-term were to come out of it, I wouldn’t be opposed.

  I shake my head at myself as I go to my bedroom because once again, thinking about her has me tangled in knots.

  In the bathroom I check out the damage to my face. I didn’t get a good look at it in the bar when I went to take a piss because the lighting was low but now I see it’s not too bad. There’s some bruising under my eye and the split in my lip looks to be healing okay so I should be good to go for next weekend’s fight.

  In the shower, I jerk off, once again using visions of Laney as fodder for my overactive libido, coming hard at thoughts of her on her knees in front of me as I pound inside her from behind.

  “Fuck,” I mutter, breathing hard, leaning into my hand against the tile.

  Damn. This woman’s going to kill me and I haven’t even laid my hands on her yet.

  Once out of the shower, I dry off then wrap the towel around my waist. After brushing my teeth, I go into my bedroom, throwing the towel at the hamper where it misses but whatever, and get into bed where I’m out like a light.

  The next morning I’m up at eight, putting running pants on over my shorts and pulling a long-sleeved t-shirt on since it’s still a bit chilly in the mornings. I munch on a protein bar as I stretch in my living room before taking the elevator down. Once out of the apartment complex, I take off on my usual Sunday run over to the Pan Pacific park loop, making it around it four and a half times to get in roughly a three-mile run. It’s a good path, a little hilly in places which I like, and it helps me get some cardio in.

  When I’m finished I sprint back to the apartment building, slowing down about a hundred yards away to cool off noticing I’m getting a few looks from people probably because of my eye. Oh, well. Inside the lobby, I go to the front desk where Janet’s working and has been keeping my sports drink in the mini fridge behind it along with a towel I’d thrown back there before taking off.

  “How was your Sunday in the park?” she asks handing me my towel and setting my drink on the desk.

  She’s a retired corrections officer who worked at the women’s prison in Chowchilla for twenty-five years. She’s a tough old bird but just as sweet as they come.

  I wipe my face then put the towel around the back of my neck before grabbing my drink and downing half of it before answering. “It was great. Weather’s good. Not many walkers to go around.”

  “Good. George said we’re supposed to have a bit of a cold front come through this week but then spring will finally be here.”

  George is her husband who’s a retired police officer. They lived in Fresno for thirty-three years before moving back to El Segundo (which is where they both grew up and my hometown also) when they both retired. George is now a security guard for an office building here in L.A. but has become quite the garden aficionado, which I can attest to because Janet’s shown me pictures.

  “Good. I’ve got a building going up on the south side so we could use the nice weather,” I remark, taking another drink then wipe my face with the end of the towel.

  “So, you gonna tell me ab
out that black eye?” she asks suspiciously.

  “Fell down some stairs,” I retort, not wanting to get into it with her.

  Being retired law enforcement she sees right through my bullshit. “I hope the other guy looks worse.”

  I wink at her and state, “He does. ‘Kay, gonna go shower then go to lunch at my brother’s.”

  “That’ll be nice.” The phone rings and she waves at me before answering.

  I finish my drink as I wait for the elevator, walking over to put the bottle in the recycle bin. When I turn to go back, the doors open and a couple gets off and right behind them is Laney and she looks amazing. Charcoal gray suit jacket over a silky, white, low-necked blouse, one of those tight skirts like the one she had on at the market that matches the jacket and black heels with ankle straps.

  Fuck. Me.

  Seeing her has stopped me where I stand and all I can do is stare. She’s on her phone and doesn’t see me at first, her red lips smiling at something the caller is saying. But the second she notices me, she halts for a moment too, her eyes getting big, those gorgeous lips parting and her face flushing before she composes herself and starts walking again, now saying something into the phone. As she passes by she quirks an eyebrow, giving me a sexy up and down with a little twist of her mouth and I turn to watch her go out the front doors and get into a waiting car.

  Jesus.

  Guess I know what I’ll be doing in the shower when I get upstairs.

  “Gonna start referring to the fucker as my girlfriend if this shit keeps up,” I mutter getting in the elevator and pushing seventeen.

  “Fuck, bro. I hope you put the hurt on the bastard,” Aaron says with a chuckle, using a cane to walk to me when I come in. He’s two years younger than I am and because of his injuries is walking like he’s eighty.

  We do a guy hug and I find myself getting pissed all over again at the Kyles which means I have to try to separate Laney from them keeping myself from being angry at her.

  Damn it.

  “How’re you feeling?” I ask following him into the living room of the small cottage-style house they rent in Palms.

  He sits down in the recliner carefully. “I’m good. Getting better every day.”

  “Yeah?”

  He nods just as Kamryn comes in from the kitchen and says, “Hey, Heath,” giving me a hug which I return.

  “Hey, Kam,” I answer looking down at her.

  When she steps back, she instantly cups her hands over mouth at seeing my face. “I’m so sorry,” she chokes out.

  “You’re fine. I’m okay,” I offer. That’s all I can give her for now because I’m still angry at the entire situation.

  There’s an uncomfortable silence in the room before her hands drop and she declares, “I’m gonna make this right. I got a job at an accounting firm in Glendale and they’re paying my tuition at Cal State to finish my degree. I’m gonna pay you back.”

  That’s a start for her getting back into my good graces. Not because of the money, because I won’t take it, but for the fact that she’s willing to fix the mess she’s gotten everyone into.

  I nod and Aaron says, “Have a seat, Heath.” He looks at Kam. “Baby, could you bring us a couple beers?”

  “Of course,” she states, hurrying back to the kitchen.

  “She’s trying, Heath,” Aaron states.

  I shrug. “I know. We’re good.”

  He nods and Kam brings our beers to us. “Thanks, babe,” he says and she bends to kiss him before going back to the kitchen. Now he looks at me. “So tell me about the fight.”

  I explain all the ins and outs of what went on and he’s loving it, his eyes glittering with curiosity with each question he asks, picturing everything I’m telling him.

  I’ve just started telling him about Matt when Isabelle starts fussing from her room and Kam walks through to check on her. A few minutes later, she comes back in holding my niece.

  “There’s your Uncle Heath. You wanna go see him?” she asks the three month old then hands her to me.

  I’ve not held a lot of babies. Actually, Isabelle’s the only baby I’ve ever held and every time I have, I’m scared to death I’ll break her. I cradle my arms and Kam places her in them then I look down at her reaching a finger out to touch her tiny nose. Before I can pull it back, she reaches out and wraps her baby hand around it looking up at me as we share a little niece-uncle moment.

  “Hey,” I say and then she yawns. Huh. Most women are a little less bored when I talk to them. She next opens her eyes, looks at me and smiles. “She’s smiling at me!” I share, looking up at Kam, amazed that this little person has given me her approval.

  Kam snorts. “It’s probably just gas.”

  I make a scoffing noise and gaze back down at my niece who’s now frowning at me which makes me frown right back. Suddenly, she’s all concentration as her belly compresses and I feel a bunch of taps on my hand through her diaper at her booty. Damn. But she’s not finished as she suddenly releases the beast with a crescendo that’s an explosion of gurgling from her bottom. Well. Okay. A smell like nothing I’ve experienced before emanates from this tiny human being and I look up at Kam, surprised.

  “Jesus. She takes after her father. And I think it’s more than gas.” I move my arms to hold Isabelle out to her.

  Biting her lips to keep from laughing, Kam takes her from me and looks down at her daughter as she walks back to the bedroom. “Did you poo poo on your Uncle Heath? You’re breaking him in just right, baby girl,” she says with a giggle.

  I look at Aaron who’s laughing. “She’s definitely yours,” I announce.

  “She’s a Noble all right,” he agrees.

  “Aaron?” Kam calls from Isabelle’s room. “I’m gonna nurse her. Can you check on the noodles, please?”

  “I got it,” I say, getting up and going into the kitchen to see if the noodles are ready.

  “Kam says not to be flinging them on the wall to check,” my brother yells and I put the noodle I’ve scooped out back into the boiling pot. Damn. “She says cut through one in the pot with the spoon and if it’s easy to do then turn the burner off.”

  I check, hollering back to Aaron that they’re ready who relays the information to Kam then I do as told, turning off the burner. Grabbing another couple beers from the fridge, I head back to the living room, handing Aaron one.

  “You were telling me about a guy named Matt,” Aaron reminds me.

  I explain that I think he’s in the same situation we are and that from what I know so far, he seems trustworthy and I might be able to get him to help me get us out of this bind. I inform him that I’m still working on Craig but that Craig seems too sucked into everything with Kyle and it might not be the way to go.

  “What about the niece?”

  I let out a breath. “I don’t think she’s involved.”

  “But you can still become friends then get her keys?”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I reply trying to convince myself I could do that if it came down to that.

  Kam comes back in and kneels on the floor, strapping Isabelle into some kind of baby chair then stands and carries it into the dining room placing it on top of the table.

  “You guys come have a seat and keep an eye on Isabelle! Gimme two minutes!” she calls as she goes into the kitchen.

  I help Aaron out of his chair and grab our beers before we go sit at the table. When I’m seated, I notice the chair Isabelle’s in is vibrating.

  I look at my brother and raise an eyebrow. “Starting her kinda young, aren’t you?”

  He starts to laugh but catches himself. “Shut the fuck up, man.” He takes Isabelle’s hand. “Let’s hope Uncle Heath has lots and lots of daughters so he can see how it feels, okay?” She coos something back at him and he answers, “That’s right, baby girl.”

  Lunch goes great especially since Kam has made the ultimate dessert: a coconut cream pie. Before I leave, she tries having me take the rest home, but I insist on only taking on
e piece telling her I’m in training which makes her wrinkle her brow. I put an arm across her shoulders and hug her to me letting her know it’s okay. She smiles grimly up at me telling me again she’s going to pay me back.

  On the way home, I fill up my Explorer then head back to the apartment building getting there around five. I enter the lobby from the garage and like I’ve got some fucking radar for her, my eyes automatically go to Laney—still dressed in that fucking tight skirt with the matching jacket and those fuck-me heels—in the elevator who gives me a sexy smirk just as the doors close.

  Christ.

  I want to see her and as I wait on the elevator, I’m pissed that as a builder I know the reason there aren’t two elevators in the building which is that the ratio is usually one lift to ninety apartments. Since this building has eighteen floors with five apartments on sixteen of them and two penthouse apartments on the top floor, it just comes in under the need for two. When it finally returns, I get on with a few other people, cursing under my breath when twice it stops at different floors for them to get off.

  Once on seventeen, I decide to put the pie in my refrigerator then come back down the hall to talk to Laney. I also change shirts since Isabelle spit up a little on the one I was wearing. So after throwing on a plain white tee, I head out the door and down the hall. When I get halfway, Laney comes out of her apartment and not seeing me at first, starts heading my way. She stops for a moment when she spots me then she resumes her course coming straight for me.

  I have tunnel vision as I stalk down the hallway, seeing nothing but her. And fucking hell, it’s like there’s some kind of electricity flowing between us as we’re pulled together like magnets.

  When we’re about a yard apart, we both stop for a moment staring at each other, I notice her breasts heaving with each breath she takes, which is just before I take a step into her and our bodies collide in a tangle of limbs wrapping around each other. My lips come crashing down on hers—best fucking kiss I’ve ever had—and with my arms around her waist, I pick her up, our mouths still connected and walk her inside her apartment, closing the door with my foot.