Fighting Dirty. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
her and hadn’t wanted to see her. It hurt.
Yvette stopped him. “Armie! Come on in. What would you like to drink?”
With his back to them, he stalled. Muscles shifted in his shoulders, his upper arms—then he very deliberately relaxed and faced them again. The heat in his eyes had cooled to indifference and his cocky smile almost made her believe she’d imagined the tension. “I’m good.”
Merissa snorted. She didn’t mean to. It just came out.
His dark sinner’s gaze zeroed back in on her. “Something funny, Stretch?”
God, how she hated that nickname! It emphasized her height, but worse, it proved that Armie didn’t see her as a desirable woman. “You? Being good?” She snorted again. “I hope I’m not standing close when lightning strikes you.”
Stepping the rest of the way into the kitchen, he said to Yvette, “I’ll take a beer.”
“Sure.” Yvette poured an unsweetened tea. She handed it to Armie, kissed his cheek, then picked up the platter and carried it to the dining room.
Nonplussed, Armie looked at the glass.
Merissa looked at Armie.
Until recently he’d kept his hair bleached almost white, but lately he’d left it alone and now it was back to a more natural dark blond. Still a little spiky, but not such a dramatic contrast to his chocolate-brown eyes. Tattoos lined his forearms, and though she couldn’t see it right now, not with him wearing a shirt, she knew he had another, more understated tat between his shoulder blades.
Faded jeans sat low on his lean hips, hanging a little long over running shoes. Boldly displayed across the front of his snug-fitting black T-shirt were the words FREE ORGASMS.
Merissa cleared her throat. “Don’t like tea?”
“Not particularly.” He set the tea aside and went to the fridge.
With his head stuck inside, Merissa felt free to look over his body. Her gaze went to those colorful tribal tattoos decorating his thick forearms up to his elbows. She didn’t mind them, but she loved the smooth, taut skin over his biceps more. For one startling second his shirt pulled up and she saw a strip of flesh above the waistband of his boxers. Muscles shifted everywhere, sending liquid heat to burn through her system.
She fanned her face. “Yvette is trying to save you from yourself.”
“Lost cause,” Armie muttered as he stepped away with a beer and closed the refrigerator. Leaning back on the table, he popped the tab, lifted the beer to his mouth—and Yvette snatched it away as she reentered the kitchen.
Very sweetly, she said, “Cannon told me you’re on a strict diet for your upcoming fight.”
“It’s two months away!”
“Cannon said you’d say that.”
“Yeah?” His eyes narrowed as he looked around. “Where is your husband?”
Ignoring his implied threat, Yvette laughed.
Armie gave up the hard act. “One beer won’t hurt anything, honey.” He took it back from her. “Promise.”
Yvette didn’t look convinced, but she gave in. “All right. One.” She slanted her gaze to Merissa. “Do me a favor, Rissy, and make sure he behaves.”
Merissa sputtered, but Yvette had already walked off with the chips, again leaving her alone in the kitchen with Armie.
His expression carefully blank, his muscles tensed, Armie looked at her.
She let out a long, dramatic sigh. “One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mis—”
He frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing how long it takes you to panic and run.”
He took a step back. “I don’t panic.”
“Bull.” She pushed away from the counter and saw his eyes flare. “Ever since that ill-fated kiss a few months ago, you see me and hightail it in the opposite direction. But don’t worry, Armie. You’re safe from my evil clutches. I got the message loud and clear.” Leaving her drink on the counter, she started off.
Armie caught her arm.
Just that. His big hand wrapped around her upper arm, warm, strong. Gentle but firm.
Her back to him, her heartbeat thundering, Merissa waited. He said nothing, but after a few seconds his thumb moved over her skin. It almost stopped her heart, and how pathetic was that? He didn’t want her. He’d made it as plain as he could. Back in November he’d kissed her, and then immediately told her it was a mistake. Now it was February and in all that time he’d barely even looked at her.
“I don’t mean to run you off.” He stepped closer. Close enough that she felt the warmth of his body.
Shoring up her resistance, forcing herself to remember her new resolve, Merissa turned to face him. Her height and the small heels on her boots put her on a level with him.
He stared into her eyes, and then down at her mouth.
Desperate yearning stole her breath and turned her denial into a whisper. “No.”
“No?” he asked, just as softly.
Flattening both hands to the front of that ridiculous shirt, her palms over his solid chest, she stepped him back. “You kissed me once. Felt like you meant it at the time—until you got all disgusted.”
His chin hitched. “Disgusted? Not even.”
Undeterred, Merissa pressed a fist to her heart. “You leveled me, Armie. You made me feel terrible. Over a single kiss. So yeah, I get it. You don’t want me. Understood. Believe me, I don’t want to put myself through that again.”
Before she could move he caught her arm once more.
She stared at him, waiting, some small part still hopeful that he’d say something to change it all.
He didn’t. His gaze shuttered, his jaw working, he fought himself. And then, as if by force of will, he opened his fingers and turned her loose.
Almost choking on her hurt, Merissa turned to leave—and nearly crashed into her brother. His muscular little mutt, Muggles, yapped at her.
Cannon took one look at her and drew her into his side. “Hey, you okay?”
Armie made to move past them, but without accusation, Cannon blocked him.
Merissa muttered, “I’m taking off. It was a long day and I’m beat.”
He kissed her forehead. “All right.” Turning to Armie, he included them both when he said, “Yvette has an announcement to make first.”
Keeping his arm around her, Cannon led her to the living room. Muggles ran up to Yvette, who stood at the front of the room with that giddy smile back on her face. All around her were their friends Denver and Cherry, Stack and Vanity, Gage and Harper. The single guys—Leese, Justice, Brand and Miles—had all arrived solo, so maybe they’d known this would be a party with an intimate announcement.
Guessing their news, Merissa found another smile, too. “Go on,” she told Cannon. “I’m fine.”
He hugged her, then joined Yvette up front. He scooped up the dog in one arm and put his other around his wife.
Feeling a little giddy herself, Merissa ignored Armie at her side and just concentrated on her brother’s happiness.
Leaning her head on Cannon’s shoulder, Yvette said, “I’m pregnant!”
And Cannon, so much in love, added with satisfaction, “We’re having a baby.”
The cheers were nearly deafening, and that set Muggles to howling in excitement, his pudgy legs pumping as he tried to run. Everyone started