Love On The Ropes (Ringside Romance) (13 page)

She prepared the tea, trying to
block out the obnoxious ringing of the phone. It finally stopped, giving her
peace to think. What would she say to Curt? If Decker told him how she’d
practically jumped the guy...

RING.

She jerked and spilled hot water
onto the counter.

“Enough!” She ripped the receiver
off the wall. “Hello!”

“Sandy?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Decker Smitts. Listen, I’m
sorry about before.”

“Oh, hi. I didn’t expect to hear
from you.”

“The truth is, I’m a little
sensitive about the hairpiece.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the cat’s fault.
She’s horrible with strangers.” She peeked around the corner and spotted Madame
Bovary curled up in The Stripper’s lap. “I’ll lock her up next time.”

“So, you’ll consider trying this
again?”

“Sure. I’m on the road for a few
days, so call me midweek. I really had a nice time tonight.”

“Thanks for saying so.”

“I mean it. You’re a nice guy.”

“And you’re hot—I mean, you’re
nice, too. I think we could have fun together. I’ll give you a call next week.”

“Great, bye.”

She hung up and whispered,
“There’s hope for me yet.” What did he call her? Hot? She sighed.

With a bounce in her step, she
took two cups of tea into the living room and placed one on the table next to
The Stripper.

“I take it that wasn’t your
brother,” he said, with a gleam in his eye.

“Nope.” She settled back on the
couch. “It was my date. Apologizing for what happened tonight.”

He sipped his tea and shrugged.
“And that makes you happy?”

“Absolutely.” More like delirious.
She had to be somewhat attractive if the guy would swallow his pride and call
her after such a dreadful end to the evening.

“Good. I’m glad you’re happy.”

She eyed The Stripper warily. “What’s
that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. Why are you so
suspicious?”

“What do you expect? We’ve been
sparring ever since we met a week ago, and you tell me you’re glad that I’m
happy? It doesn’t add up, Stripper.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He looked upset. She really was
being a bad host. After all, she was inside her condo, toasty in her sweats and
T-shirt, thanks to him. If he didn’t come charging to her rescue she’d still be
dangling, half-naked, from her neighbor’s balcony.

Wait a minute.  What was Jason
doing outside her condo?

“Hey, why were you lurking outside
my building?” she sat straight. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“Don’t freak out on me.”

“Oh, my God. I’ve picked up a
stalker.” She started to get up.

“Stop, okay?  If you must know,
Cosmo asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“What? Why?”

“He said you were under a lot of
pressure and he was worried. You don’t trust anyone in BAM besides Johnny, and
Johnny’s got a wife and four kids so he doesn’t have time to baby—keep an eye
on you.”

“You were going to say babysit
me.”

The Stripper shrugged. “What
difference does it make? You’re lucky your employer cares so much.”

She shook her head. “No, he’s got
some other plan hatching, trust me.”

The Stripper glanced into his tea,
then up at her. “You must have been through a lot to make you so cynical.”

She sighed. How much did she want
to share with this man, a man who would probably be out of her life within the
next six months? She knew he wasn’t a career wrestler. He’d be in it for the
quick cash until he could get a better gig.

“I was born into pro wrestling,”
she said. “I watched my father get screwed over by one wrestling promotion,
then get injured and have to quit. My brother Curt quit when his wife gave him
an ultimatum: Get a normal job or she’d divorce him and take the kids.” She
tapped her teacup in contemplation. “She couldn’t handle him being gone all the
time, not knowing if he’d be sent home on crutches or worse. Then there’s my
brother Duke,” she paused, “he’s in a wheelchair.”

“Because of wrestling?”

“And his ego.”

“What happened?”

“He was suffering from a back
injury. The doctors gave him a list of moves to avoid until he could get with
the specialist, but he didn’t listen. He let some bonehead do a pile driver on
him and he hasn’t walked on his own since.”

The Stripper shook his head. “I’m
sorry.”

“Tell me about it.”

“How did your mom handle all
this?”

Sandy narrowed her eyes. “You’re
awfully nosy.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry.”

“No problem, but after I’m done,
it’s your turn.”

He cleared his throat and glanced
into his tea.

“Mom’s tough, like me,” Sandy went
on, “but she has her limits, unlike me. She kicked Dad out ten years ago. She
couldn’t handle the self-pity, how he lived in the past and obsessed over what
could have been. He couldn’t let go of his life as a wrestler. He finally got a
job doing security at a mall. Then he got cancer. He’s had it rough.”

“Sounds like she’s had it pretty
rough,” he suggested.

Sandy put down her cup and leaned
against her soft pale pink couch. “Never thought about it that way. She always
did her thing and never complained.”

“And what did you do?”

“Followed my dad and brothers from
match to match. Basked in their reflective glory.”

The Stripper snorted.

“What? I love my dad and brothers.”

“Sounds like you’ve sacrificed a
lot of yourself for their dreams.”

“Healing is my dream. It all ties
in.” She shook off his comment. “Okay, smart ass, your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

“True confessions.”

Jason sipped his tea, savoring its
warmth and mild flavor. Now what lie was he going to hide behind? It didn’t
matter. He’d talk his way through the next few minutes, then get the hell out
of here and send his evidence to the lab.

Good thing she’d taken her time
changing her clothes. It gave him the opportunity to look around and find the
unmarked bottles of pills in her freezer. When she’d caught him in the kitchen,
he’d recovered with the brilliant idea of making tea.

“Stop stalling,” she said. “Tell
me about your family.”

“Dad left when I was ten. It goes
downhill from there.”

“Wow,” she hushed. “I’m so sorry.”

Her tone set him on edge. Genuine
concern?
She doesn’t mean it, McBain
.

“Tell me about your brothers and
sisters,” she pushed.

“One brother, one sister, both
younger than me. My sister...” He glanced up and hesitated.

“She’s a handful, huh?”

“Yep.”

“And your brother?”

“Arrogant. Thinks he knows it
all.”

“Wonder who he learned that from.”

She smiled, and his fingers
tightened around the mug. Her smile did crazy things to his insides.

“How about your mom?” she asked.
“How did she die?”

“She ... um, didn’t really die.”

“You jerk!” She tossed the pillow
at him. “God, I hate lies.”

He shrugged. If she only knew how
many lies he still hid behind. Well, the stuff about Cosmo wasn’t a complete
lie. The man did tell Jason he was worried about Sandy.

“I didn’t know you well enough to
be completely honest about my mother before,” he explained.

“And you know me well enough now?”

“I guess.”

“Well, you know me better than the
boys at work. You’re sitting in my condo.”

He looked around. He surely was
sitting in her living room surrounded by her stuff: a colorful glass mobile of
stars hung from the ceiling, purple candles and porcelain cats lined a sofa
table, and pictures of her family were scattered across bookshelves. It was
very comfortable here. It felt like a home.

“I never let any of the guys into
my condo,” she remarked, crossing her arms over her chest.

He glanced at her. “I’ve heard
that. Listen, I’m sorry I lied before. The truth is, I—”

“Need to protect yourself.”

His chest tightened. “How did you
know I was going to say that?”

“You’re not hard to read.”

Yeah, but baby, you are
. Because
if he’d read her correctly he wouldn’t have pegged her as a sincere healer, a
strong, yet sensitive woman, when in fact she was a drug dealer.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” she
said.

“What?”

“That I can read you so easily.”
She snuggled down in the couch, her mug clutched between her fingers.

“You’re just talented, I guess,”
he replied.

“And smart.”

“Don’t push it.”

She smiled. “Tell me more about
your life.”

“It’s boring stuff.”

She yawned. “I like boring stuff.
What’s your mom like?” He suspected she didn’t want to be left alone.

“Mom’s nice, maybe too nice. She’s
trusting and gullible. It was hard on her when Dad disappeared. She thought
he’d been in an accident, but no one called—police, hospitals. She finally
decided he got tired of the responsibility.”

“That’s awful.” She snuggled down
even further.

“It’s okay. We’ve all recovered.”
Jason could tell she was close to falling asleep. Good. He needed to get out of
here and away from true confessions.

“My little brother is a smart
kid,” he continued, hoping to bore her to sleep. “He got a scholarship to the
University of Chicago, studied physics, whatever good that will do him. He’s
applying for his master’s. Knowing him, he’ll be in school until he’s forty.
Some people like being career students.”

Sandy curled up like a little
girl, holding a purple blanket against her chin. It looked soft and handmade
with stars and moons scattered across the dark background. She looked so comfortable,
so peaceful. Envy pulsed through him. When was the last time he’d naturally fallen
into a deep sleep?

“Sandy?” he said. “You still with
me?”

No response. The perfect time to
escape. He quietly got up from the rocker. Starting for the door, he switched
off a few lamps, leaving on the light in the kitchen so she wouldn’t panic if
she woke up and didn’t remember falling asleep on her couch. Then he noticed
the mug clutched in her hand. Not wanting her to douse herself in the middle of
the night, he reached over and eased it from her fingers.

“Mmm.” She slid down into the
cushions, practically disappearing. He automatically brushed his fingertips
against her cheek. So soft, so perfect.

The cat jumped onto the back of
the couch and stared him down. Heaviness filled his chest. Jason’s role had
always been the protector. Now he was the threat.

“Smart kitty,” he whispered.
“Protect her. Especially from me.”

As the guys prepped for a local
BAM show, Jason cornered Cosmo to let him in on the latest Sandy development.

“You’re wrong,” Cosmo said. “You
couldn’t be more wrong if you told me my mother was going to be the centerfold
for Playboy next month.” The man shook his head and started toward the dressing
room.

Jason followed. The show started
in an hour and he didn’t want to drop this bomb, but at the very least he
needed Cosmo to back up his story about wanting him to watch over Sandy.

“I want you to tell her—”

“I don’t like this,” Cosmo
interrupted. “She’s a nice girl.”

“She’s a suspect.”

Cosmo stopped short. “She’s
family,” he hushed, as Tula the Tramp wandered by dressed in light-up pasties,
a thong and spiked heels.

And J thought his family was
dysfunctional?

“Well, it’s looking like this
family member is dirty,” he said.

“Nope. Don’t believe it.” Cosmo
stuck his hand out in a stop gesture. “No more talking. I won’t listen.”

“I told her you wanted me to keep
an eye on her, that you’re worried about her. Back me up on this.”

“I am worried,” he glared, “about
what you’re going to do to her.”

“I’m not doing anything she
doesn’t deserve.”

“You’re barking up the wrong ring
post.”

“Look, the quickest way to wrap up
this case is to identify the perpetrator. Sandy’s my first suspect. I need to
stick with her, discover her friends, contacts, stuff like that.”

The promoter looked annoyed.
“You’re wrong, and I’m going to prove it.”

J grabbed Cosmo’s arm. “Don’t
interfere with this investigation.”

“Wouldn’t think of it, Stripper.
But you’ll be ashamed you ever suspected her.” Cosmo stormed into a dressing
room, slamming the door in J’s face.

“You keep on living in that dream
world,” Jason whispered. This guy was naive and trusting, and had the gall to
scold him about doing his job? Yep, he’d scolded him like a father would his
teenage son. Not that J would know what that felt like.

Maybe if his old man had been
around during J’s teenage years it wouldn’t have fallen apart. Yet J was a
model child up to his seventeenth birthday. He’d taken care of Mom, Jordon and
Janette.

If only Dad hadn’t left, Mom
wouldn’t have started dating that idiot Mr. Plackard, and J wouldn’t have
gotten into trouble because he couldn’t stand being pushed out of the lead male
role in the family.

That’s when it all went to hell. J
would never forget the look on his mom’s face when the cop brought him to the
front door. It haunted him to this day: her teary eyes and disapproving frown.
You’re
just like your no-good father
. He’d read it in her eyes.

And that’s when Jason knew he had
to go. He would make something of himself, make her proud, and earn back her
love.

Only years later did he realize
how closely he’d followed in Dad’s shoes by abandoning his family when they
needed him most. Mom’s boyfriend hung around long enough to enjoy home-cooked
meals and rides to the track. He even found her stash of money in the china
teapot. Once Plackard got what he wanted from Sharon McBain he dumped her flat.
She found herself alone again, and this time Jason wasn’t there to help.