Dash of Peril

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

WHAT THE FUCK.

Dash looked from Rowdy’s smirking face to Margo’s wide-eyed shock, and he lifted both brows.

He’d figured Margo was lying low, that she was probably second-guessing him and even herself. She wouldn’t answer her phone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home, or even that she was busy. He’d checked with Logan first and found out that she’d finished her day an hour ago. They were overloaded, yes. Logan confirmed it. But she wasn’t working literally around the clock. She could have called him if she’d wanted to.

With everything she’d gone through, she had good reason for wanting to take a time-out. But it had been a week and his patience was gone. And so he’d come to find her.

But he had not expected to find her... Well, like that. Wrapped around another man, all cozy and intimate.

For a suspended moment in time, Margo looked stricken. Then suddenly she was disengaging from Rowdy so quickly that she elbowed him in the throat before getting to her feet.

Rowdy, always unpredictable, just laughed.

So maybe Rowdy had been...what? Comforting her?

Yeah, her eyes looked red. Dash stepped closer. Shit, she’d been crying. And she’d gone to Rowdy instead of him.

Knowing that, made him want to act like a caveman, breaking shit and beating on people until he made her feel better.

Of course, he wouldn’t do that. The people he wanted to beat on weren’t available. And even if they were, he probably couldn’t demolish them.

Despite everything, she loved her father. That’s why it hurt her so much. And Dan was locked up, well out of his reach. West...Logan said her brother was trying. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

Rowdy, other than seeming to have an affinity for comforting every woman within his realm, didn’t really deserve his anger.

Margo said, her voice husky, “Dash?”

At the same time Oliver left the couch and walked over to wind around his legs. “Hey, puppy-cat.” Dash scooped him up. At least the cat was purring in happiness, glad to see him.

In less of a hurry, Rowdy pushed to his feet. “Do I need to tell you that it isn’t what it looks like?”

Dash shook his head and said, without much venom, “Get out.”

“Right.” As he went past, Rowdy leaned in and said, “You can thank me later.” Dash heard the front door close. Still holding Oliver, he studied Margo. She wore his T-shirt...without a bra. The big shirt swam on her, making her skinny jeans look even slimmer—and sexy as hell.

But first things first.

He sat the cat back on the couch and went to lock the front door. Once he got things started with Margo, he didn’t want any interruptions.

When he turned back again, she had the shirt off and was working on her skinny jeans. With every anxious movement, her full breasts moved enticingly.

Whoa. He had a lot to say to her, but if she got naked, all bets were off. “Hold up, honey.”

“No.” She pushed the jeans down, favoring her arm a little, until they caught on her ankles. Without much finesse she tried to kick out of them, lost her balance and fell back on the couch.

In a peach-colored thong. God help him.

Oliver hissed, jumped down and went to his bed to groom himself. He watched the cat a moment while he tried to recover from the sight of her with her jeans down.

He worked up the willpower to face her just in time to watch her toss the jeans aside. She reached for that skimpy thong, but he came down over her, catching her hands and pressing her into the couch.

“Sorry,” he said. “But I need a minute.”

Breathing hard, she stared up at him. “One minute.”

She was so beautiful, even with blotchy cheeks and puffy red eyes. “You were crying.”

Her chin lifted. “So? I’m a woman.”

Rubbing himself against her, Dash said, “Yeah. Noticed.” But what did she mean? “You’ve never cried before.”

“There are a lot of things I’d never done before...before you. Let me get naked and we can talk about it later.”

Apparently he had some catching up to do. “So I made you cry?”

“No.”

He waited, but she said nothing more. “Why are you throwing off your clothes?”

“Because I want you.”

Totally lost, he nodded. “So much so, you wouldn’t even answer your phone, much less call me back.”

Her breath caught and she looked away, but only for a second. “I’m not pregnant.”

“No?” Damn, but he felt like he’d walked into a scripted play without knowing his lines. He hoped he hid his disappointment, especially since he knew it wasn’t what she wanted.

“I just finished my period yesterday.”

Dash shifted, moving both her wrists into one of his hands so he could touch her. He started by gliding his thumb over her temple. “So maybe that’s why you’re so emotional.”

Eyes narrowing, she whispered, “Are you accusing me of PMS?”

She looked so mean, he couldn’t help but grin. Slowly he drew her arms up and over her head. “It’s a fact of life, honey, not an accusation. You just said you’re a woman, so you aren’t immune.”

She struggled against him, trying to free her hands.

Dash held on. “Does your arm—”

“No!”

He studied her face. “You can be such a little fibber.” He kissed her lips, keeping it light and quick despite her effort to the contrary. “I think it does pain you, but I like holding you like this, all stretched out under me.” He looked down the side of her body. She had one slender leg sprawled over the side of the couch, her foot on the floor. He turned and looked at her other side. That leg was half-squashed into the couch. “Let’s reposition you a little.”

“Let’s just go to bed so we can both be comfortable.”

“I’m comfortable right here.” He wouldn’t explain that a bed would test him too much. He’d been in agony trying to give her the time she needed, trying to be respectful to the demands of her job. Suffering extreme withdrawal from her sweet little body.

“Dash—”

“Shhh. Quiet down, honey, and let me decide how I want to arrange you.”

It didn’t surprise him at all when she did as asked.

“Let’s try this.” He caught her inside leg and raised it up high so that it rested on the back of the couch, opening her legs wider so that he could settle more closely against her.

She had her bottom lip caught in her teeth, her breath rushing. Damn, but the things she made him feel...

Levering up on an elbow, he looked her over. “I’ve missed these,” he said about her breasts and bent to gently draw her nipple into his mouth.

Gasping, she shifted, lifting up to him.

He sucked and licked, leaving her nipple wet and tight. “Hold still, Margo.” He waited, and when she didn’t move, it excited him unbearably. “Now, how does your arm really feel?”

“It’s sometimes achy.”

Her honesty pleased him. “But not now?”

“Only a little.”

“Not enough that I need to—”

“No.” She tugged gently, then admitted, “I like this, but then you already know that.”

As long as she was being honest... “You’ve missed me?”

Her eyes clouded, grew damp again. “So much.”

Relieved, he filed away her emotional reply. “You were...” He couldn’t say afraid, so he amended, “Worried?”

After an audible swallow and a sniff, she nodded.

“Do you believe that I love you?”

“I don’t know.” She quickly added, “I hope you do.”

Cupping her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple, he asked, “Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

She said that so fast, her eyes dark, her lips trembling. Relief slammed into him and he put his head down by hers, and whispered, “Say it.”

“I love you so much.”

Heart hammering, he took her mouth, kissed her hard and slanted his head so that he could deepen the kiss even more.

She pressed up into him, undulating her hips, wrapping her legs around him.

But not yet, he told himself. Not just yet. “You’re moving.”

“You’re not.” She hugged her legs high around his waist. “But you should be. After you get naked.”

He smiled, and cupped her breast. “Do you have any idea what the past week has been like for me?”

“From what Rowdy said, it was maybe, but not quite, as bad as my week.”

He knew she’d been inundated with the job and personal family stuff. More than anything he’d wanted to be there with her, to help however he could. “A lot going on at the station?”

She shook her head. “A lot going on with missing you.”

Ah. So she’d suffered the same? Lightly, he tugged at her nipple and watched her eyes go heavy-lidded. “Rowdy was here to sing my praises?”

“I think—” her breath caught “—it was more about saving me from myself. Or something like that. Hard to tell with him.” Squirming, she licked her lips. “He told me to get naked with you and everything else would work out.”

Dash had to grin over that. Yes, he would thank Rowdy when next he saw him. “He gave that advice...why?”

Her eyes closed. She even turned her face away. “Because I’m a coward.”

Ending the sensual torment, Dash instead brought her face back around and then just waited.

“I love you, but...” She licked her lips again. “So many things have gone wrong. In my life, I mean. Even with my family I haven’t had a solid relationship. I’ve never really known...” Her voice trailed off and she stared at him helplessly.

Dash smoothed her hair. “Love?”

She nodded.

God, he adored her hair—more so now that he knew how she’d first come by the sexy style. “You will always have it from me.”

“My job, my family...” Worry etched a frown in her brows. “They can be difficult.”

Dash cupped her face. “It doesn’t matter if you’re being the badass lieutenant, the independent daughter, or the submissive woman, I love you so much you’re going to drown in it.”

Tears glazed her eyes again. “Let my arms go.”

He did—and she wrapped them around him, holding tight, hiding her face against his throat. He felt the dampness on his throat, but he knew everything would be okay now, so he just held her, kissing her cheekbone, her shoulder.

“Dash?”

“Hmm?” The thong left the satiny skin of her cheeks exposed. He turned, putting her atop him so he could stroke her sexy ass.

“Please don’t think I’m awful.”

“Never.”

Mustering up her backbone, she said, “When I realized I wasn’t pregnant, I was...disappointed.”

His heart expanded—because he was disappointed, too. “A baby would mean permanence.”

“I know.”

Did she? Did she realize everything he wanted from her? “It would mean marriage, a lifetime together. The whole thing.”

Her tentative fingers moved over his chest. “Yes.” Suddenly she came up to her elbows. And what a great pose that was. He had both hands on her backside, keeping her pressed closed to his erection. Her naked breasts were right there, tempting him to nuzzle. And her mouth...whether she was ordering, teasing, kissing or cursing, she had one of the sexiest mouths he’d ever seen.

“I want that.”

Thrown off a little, Dash looked up at her face. “You want what?”

“You.” As if she might lose her nerve, she came down to kiss him hard and fast. “Love. Marriage. Kids. The whole thing.”

The grin crept up on him. “You want to marry me?”

“If you laugh, I swear—”

“What?” He held on to her behind. “What would you do?”

She let out a sigh. “Love you.” Her forehead to his, she said, “I swear, Dash, I do love your laugh.”

“Hold on.” Locking an arm around her bottom, he stood, lifting her with him.

“Dash!”

He pulled her legs around his waist and, with one devouring kiss, headed for the bedroom. “Just so you know, I was halfway hoping you’d be knocked up, too.”

“You’re so romantic.”

He laughed. “I have a mostly naked woman making me insane. How romantic did you expect me to be?”

“You mean it? You want a baby?”

“Or two or three.” He paused in the hallway, pinning her to the wall, touching between her legs until she panted. “With you, Margo. Only with you.”

“Yes.”

In her room he lowered her down to the bed and sank in against her.

“To your proposal, yes. Whenever you want. Whatever you want.”

He took her mouth and then didn’t want to stop kissing her. But this was important. Breathing heavier now, he said, “As for kids, I know your job is important to you, and it can get complicated. So just let me know when you’re ready.”

Wide-eyed over all that, Margo laughed. “You are far too accommodating.”

Again he stretched her out, using his knee to nudge her legs farther apart. With new heat roughening his voice, he said, “I expect you to be accommodating, as well.” As he sat up, he trailed his fingertips down her arms to her breasts. “Don’t move.”

She shivered. “Dash?”

Her husky voice pleased him. “What, baby?”

“I love the way you love me.”

He bent to kiss her stomach.

“Soon,” she whispered.

“What’s that?” He hooked his fingers in the waistband of the provocative thong and drew it down her thighs.

“I want to marry you soon.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Leaving the skimpy material at her knees, he bent to kiss her inner thigh.

“A baby right after that.”

Growling, he stood and stripped off his clothes, rolled on a condom and returned to her. “You’re making me hot.”

She laughed—but she didn’t move.

And neither of them did any more talking.

AT THE FRONT of the rec center, freshly showered and dressed after a grueling workout, Cannon leaned on the reception desk and finished his phone call. In three days he’d be heading to Harmony, Kentucky. It was only a three-hour trip, but it was far enough to be a complete game changer.

He was signing with the SBC. He still couldn’t believe it, but he’d just talked with Havoc and had it confirmed that he’d be meeting Drew Black in person. Havoc and Simon Evans ran a gym in Harmony, which meant a lot of prime competition hung out there. He’d get additional training with some great exposure.

Damn, he’d worked hard for this.

At the same time, he’d miss working at Rowdy’s bar full-time. Not that he’d be moving away for good. He’d handed off some of the responsibilities for the rec center to Armie Jacobson, another fighter who was good with the kids. Cannon would retain a supervisory position. Between fights, and training for fights, he’d be back.

So then why did vague discontent gnaw on the outer edges of his satisfaction, blunting some of the pleasure?

“Cannon?”

That faint, whispery voice drew him around. As if he’d somehow summoned her with his churning thoughts, Yvette stood in the doorway, her body outlined by the floodlights out front.

As usual she wore jeans, but these were a boyfriend cut, not like the tight denim she’d always preferred. Since the night was cool she’d pulled on a hooded sweatshirt a few sizes too big. Her long dark hair trailed over her chest, around her breasts.

At his continued scrutiny, she shifted.

Realizing he was staring, Cannon unglued his feet. “Hey.” He looked beyond her but didn’t see her grandpa. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry to bother you.” She, too, looked around. “You’re closed?”

“Just locking up, yeah.” Since he wasn’t working at the bar tonight, he’d planned to find a little female recreation before calling it a night. But despite the ill-advised kiss he’d given into in her bathroom, Yvette wasn’t an option. For a dozen different reasons, she was off-limits.

“I thought you’d be at the bar, but...you weren’t.”

She’d gone to Getting Rowdy looking for him? “You’re not twenty-one.” Number two reason why he could never again forget himself. “You can’t go in there.”

A smile teased the corners of her mouth. “So Rowdy told me, very quickly.” She continued to stand in the doorway instead of coming in. “He’s the one who told me you’d be here.”

Had Rowdy frightened her? He was big and imposing...and she’d been through so much. Number one reason he had to keep his attention off her curvy little body in the slouchy clothes. “You’re okay?”

Nodding, she said, “I wanted to talk to you. I mean, if you have a minute. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

“Come on in.” He held the door wide and then secured it behind her. “How’d you get here?”

“I drove.” Trailing a hand along a rack of weights, she explored the rec center. “I’m almost twenty you know, not twelve. I got my license a long time ago.”

No, he didn’t know that. And he’d be better off thinking of her as twelve. “I thought you just graduated.”

When she looked away, he wanted to kick his own ass. Way to bring up a failure.

Gliding over to a speed bag, she gave it a shove, watched it a minute, then said, so softly he barely heard, “I live with Grandpa because my parents are both gone. They died with I was thirteen. I...lost a few months of the school year and had to redo it. Only I was moving around a lot, from my aunts to my cousins and then finally here.” She shrugged. “I hadn’t attended enough school in any one place to count the year.”

That had to be really rough. “I’m sorry.” He came up behind her, but not too close. No reason to tempt himself. “Things didn’t work out with the other relatives?”

She pushed back the hood of her sweatshirt and gave the speed bag another tap. “I guess not.” Flashing him a smile, she asked, “How’s this work?”

Drawn to her despite his better sense, Cannon stepped up to the bag. “It’s hung a little high for you.” He moved his feet into position and held his arms at the right angles. “Like this, okay?”

She nodded.

“After you’re in the proper stance...” He struck the belly of the bag and immediately circled his fist back. “You count the rebounds to know when to strike again.” After showing her what he meant, he did a thirty-second round, repeatedly and fluidly hitting the bag.

Smiling, she said, “You make it look so easy.”

He stilled the bag, wondering why she was here, what she wanted. What he wanted.

Turning away and heading for the heavy bag, she laughed. “Actually, you make...everything seem easier.”

Cannon watched her. “If I could, I’d make it easier for you.”

She kept her back to him. “You already have.” She ran her hand over the bag. “I’m leaving tonight.”

His heart skipped two beats. “What does that mean? Leaving where?”

Pasting on a bright and completely false smile, she faced him. “I’m going back to California. Remember the aunt I mentioned? Well, she’s ill and could use some help with her store. I’ll stay with her and in my free time I can get my associates degree and...” She stopped. Cleared her throat. “Grandpa is going to retire. He’ll sell the pawnshop and just take it easy. He said he can visit often, or I can visit him. And of course, I’ll have to come for the trial. But...I can’t stay here.”

Cannon took a step toward her but she held up a hand.

“No, please. Don’t tell me I can. Don’t tell me it’ll all be okay.” She closed her arms around herself. “I can’t sleep, I keep jumping over every little sound, and I smell kerosene even when there’s none around and...” She held out her hands. “I can’t stay.” Now she came to him, rushing over. “You’ve been such a huge help. To me and to Grandpa.” Her hand touched his chest, but not for long. She was already walking away when she said, “I can’t thank you enough, and I won’t ever forget what you did for us.”

By the time she reached the door, she was practically running. She fumbled with the lock a moment and finally got it open. A bell chimed as she darted out into the night.

Cannon hadn’t yet moved. He had his hand over his chest, on the spot she’d touched so very lightly.

He’d worried about her making more of that kiss than he’d meant for there to be. He’d thought she might consider it a commitment of some sort. That she’d consider him obligated to explain.

Instead he was the one left standing behind, wondering how she could walk away without even acknowledging it.

Striding to the big front window, he watched Yvette rush across the street to a small car parked beneath a big security light. She didn’t look his way, and she didn’t look back.

She just drove off into the night.

In three days he’d be gone anyway. But in his subconscious...he’d always figured on her being around when he came home.

“Shit.” Locking up, he decided against female company and instead went to Rowdy’s bar. He didn’t drink often, but tonight was a special occasion—one he might regret for a very long time.