“Maybe,” he concedes. “Yeah, it will bring the BFC a ton of publicity, promotion, and money. It won’t hurt my career at all. And I’m not denying it’s going to make usat leasta half-million dollars richer. But it’s also going to do some good, and if you want to honor Connor, this is a way to keep his name and legacy out there.”
I close my eyes, my head bowing.
It’s not the money; I couldn’t give a damn about that.
But Connor having a legacy. Not dying in vain without the world knowing how smart and great a man he was…
“All right.” I raise my head and meet first Jake’s gaze, then Israel’s. “I’ll do it. I’ll fight.”
Chapter Ten
Knox
A couple of hours later, I hike my duffel bag over my head and shoulder and push through one of the double doors of the gym. My muscles pull tight, but it’s good. The stretch gives me a bone-deep satisfaction. Israel and I spent an hour-and-a-half in the ring. And though I’ve sparred with other fighters in the gym over the last two years, none have been on Israel’s level. That fierce surge of battle, of intense focus and, yeah, joy—there’s no other word for it—had risen in me, and a part of me that I’d forced into a coma-like sleep didn’t just wake, but came out swinging blows.
Yeah, I missed it.
And Jake, standing next to the ring, arms crossed and wearing a shit-eating smirk, knew it, too.
Fucker.
My own smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I step out into the late Sunday morning sunshine.
“Whoa. A smile. If I realized working out had this kind of effect on you, I would’ve suggested you take off from the shop to get more hours in the gym a long time ago,” the husky voice that cried out my name only hours ago drawls.
And like then, it’s a hook-punch to the jaw, harder than any jab Israel could throw.
Eden pushes off the hood of my truck and strides toward me. Several questions bombard my brain at once: What is she doing here? How did she know where to find me? What’s wrong? Is something wrong with my brothers, Mom?
But once I notice her expression is too relaxed for her to be delivering bad news, they all take a backseat to one thought.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
Her thick, long hair is piled up in a bun on top of her head, revealing the slender, elegant column of her neck. Above the tight-fitting T-shirt that cups her perfect breasts, a purplish bruise mars her skin. A wild song of almost brutal possession sweeps through me, and I curl my fingers into the strap of my bag to keep from stalking the few feet that separate us, cupping the back of her neck, and pressing my mouth to that mark. Anyone catching sight of it would guess exactly what it is; does Eden realize it’s visible? Or does she not care? My stupid, ass-blind heart latches on to the latter. I should warn her to cover the mark up before someone questions how she came by it—or, rather, who gave it to her. But the primitive, jealous side of me wants everyone to know it was my mouth that put it there. Mine. Just like the woman.
Fuck.
I drag a hand over my beard. Only anguish and disillusion lay down that crooked, rutted path. Last night had been an aberration, an anomaly. A mistake that I’m trying to regret. If I had any loyalty, any integrity, I’d regret it. But after being in that tight, snug body, I can’t.
Eden stops in front of me, her long skirt swinging around her feet. When she turns her face up to me, I inhale her scent, recalling how much richer and muskier it is between her thighs. My gut clenches, and blood pumps to my cock. If I hadn’t changed my shorts for jeans after showering in the locker room, Eden would have a front row seat to where my thoughts have drifted.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, arousal roughening the question. Shit. When am Inothard around her?
Something flickers in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can decipher the emotion behind it. At one time, I believed she was shitty at hiding her thoughts, but maybe I was wrong. Or she’s just become better at hiding from me.
I hate that possibility.
“It’s funny, really. I happened to be in the neighborhood, and just when I passed by, you walked out,” she says, voice as dry as a Nevada summer day in the desert. Yeah, pretty damn dry. Yet, that emotion flashes in her gaze again, and this time, I decipher it before she manages to conceal it again. Discomfort. Uncertainty.
For the first time since we’ve known each other, Eden is nervous around me.
I hate that possibility, too.
“Let me try that again. Why are you here?”
A small half-smile quirks a corner of her mouth. “I want you to come with me.”
“I did. Two times last night,” I growl, the words escaping me before I can contain them.
