They could look all they wanted. Gayle was his.
This morning, he’d enjoyed waking up beside her, had enjoyed even more sneaking downstairs and cooking her breakfast while she slept. Afterward, she’d spent the morning watching him and Lance train, and then he’d spent the rest of the stormy afternoon with her, kissing his way down her body without one thought to the crashing thunder and flashing lightning.
And he’d come to realize that what Lance had told him from day one was right.
Gayle was good for him.
Not only for letting go of the past, but also thinking of a future…with her.
The idea terrified him, but when they’d gotten home the day before yesterday and he’d gone to Lance’s and she’d returned to her place, he’d missed her. Like crazy. It hadn’t taken much for him to find his way over to her place with a bag full of groceries from his friend’s fridge.
He hadn’t left her side since.
Though there was fear lurking in such closeness, having her beside him felt right. Made him believe that as long as he had her he could do anything—possibly even including moving back to Kansas.
Of course, then he’d think about the storm chasing and how close she’d come to being hurt, and his gut twisted. Even though she took every precaution, it was still too damn dangerous.
Yet she did so much good with her job.
He was so fucking torn on how he felt about it.
He looked down at her. No reason to mull over it now. They still had a few weeks together before any big decisions needed to be made. Best see how things played out before he got wrapped up in all the other stuff.
Just enjoy being with her and how she made him feel.
“Man, with you incognito like this I feel all special,” she whispered.
Chuckling, he hugged her tighter. Lance pushed aside a black tarp that hung at the back of the bar and held it aside as Mac and Gayle ducked underneath. Behind it were a registration table and the group of fighters with the coaches waiting for the event to start. Lance sauntered up to the coordinator.
Mac waited until his friend pointed over at him, then removed his cap.
“Holy shit,” the coordinator muttered.
“I was hoping I could get in on the action tonight.”
The man grimaced. “The cards are full. I don’t have anyone available to fight you.”
Damn. He figured that was the way it would go, but he was disappointed, nonetheless. The ego wanted to show off his manliness in front of Gayle. Though he got to do that during training, it wasn’t the same as the raw testosterone of a real fight. Yeah, he was all man in bed, but after the emotional crap she’d witnessed him struggle with, he wanted her to see him as a man in life, too.
“I’ll fight his sorry ass.” A deep, gravelly voice boomed from behind him.
Mac twisted around and exhaled in a burst of surprise. “Fuck me. Are you serious?” He released Gayle to pound the back of the powerhouse of a man he hadn’t seen in years. “Man, what are you doing here?”
“I own a training facility in Wichita. A few of my guys are on the card tonight.”
“That’s great, man.” He couldn’t believe Ragin was here. They’d trained together back in the day, when Mac was treating MMA as more of a hobby than a career. Ragin had never gone pro, had stuck with the coaching route. The six-foot tall, light-haired man was still rock solid. “I see getting older hasn’t softened you any.”
“Nah. I’m stronger at forty-one than I was in my twenties.”
“Have you gotten in the cage with a kid?”
“I’m about to, ain’t I? Think your young ass can keep up with my old one?” He nodded at the coordinator. “What do you say, Trent? Surprise everyone with a special last minute fight? I think the fans will dig it.”
Mac grinned. He dug it, too. He just hoped he wouldn’t pound the guy too far into the dirt.
Lance helped Mac tape his hands and put on his gloves. His friend sported a nice shiner under his left eye from his fight a bit earlier, but other than one good clock from his opponent, his friend had dominated the other man—a more skilled and younger fighter.
“You didn’t need me to come out here,” Mac said. “Submissions you’ve been struggling with during training, you executed flawlessly. What have you been doing? Faking it while we trained?”
Lance stilled guiltily for a second, then he shoved the last glove on Mac’s hand. “No. I didn’t need you here,” he finally admitted.
“Then why ask me?”
“Because I missed you and I was worried about you.” His friend straightened and met Mac’s gaze. “I couldn’t figure out any other way to get you to come here willingly. The fight seemed like the perfect excuse.”
Mac was silent for a long moment. “Thank you.”