Safeword: Matte (2 page)

He smiled, such a beautiful smile. “Friend. Okay, I guess that answers my question. Go take care of your friend. I'll try not to hurt him too badly Sunday, if it comes to it.”

He stepped closer to the wall, giving her space to get around him, and she walked past him without looking back.

Chapter Two

Sunday afternoon the arena was brimming with people. Friday it had been mostly friends and family, Saturday had been a bit more full, but today was the big event and it was an almost sold out crowd. When the first fight started the crowd was so loud she could barely hear herself yelling her cheers and jeers. They made their way through the lightweights and middleweights, and then the pre-fight drama started to work the crowd up to the heavyweight fight. There were videos shown of the fights leading up to this one. Sam wanted to roll her eyes at the hype they were playing on Ethan Levi's one very quick win Friday night, and then his scheduled knock out last night. For his second fight he'd played with his opponent and then given him the knockout punch at the top of the tenth minute, just as he'd said he would in his tweets earlier in the day. Today he had tweeted he would give the knockout punch at the five minute mark.

Sam had talked to Tom about various strategies earlier today, and his game plan was to either knock him out long before the countdown, or to watch for the wind-up at the five minute mark and take him down when he left himself open as he watched the time. The problem with that theory was she'd researched Ethan Levi and discovered he'd used this ploy several years ago, and the crowd had counted down to the five minute mark for him during the final fight of the tournament. She’d told him that and said, “No, you need to either take him out before it starts, or just prepare to block whatever’ll be coming at the countdown, and then go in for the kill immediately after the block. If he thinks he’s delivering a knock out strike he won’t be defending as strong just after it’s been delivered. He's trying to psych you out, don't let him. You’re going to have to get into your zone, imagine the crowd is counting down for you, not for him. And assume the big hit will come at the four or three mark on the countdown, not the final zero. Don’t let it psyche you out, use it against him. Cocky bastard, telling you when he’s going to leave himself open. Right?”

Now, sitting here waiting for the fight to start, she wasn't sure how Tom would ever get into his zone, but she could see he was already on his way there as he stepped into the cage. Both men dressed in shorts with no shoes, no gloves — the only protective gear allowed was a cup. Tom was tall and large without looking like a bad-ass, but Ethan looked like every bit the bad-ass. By the time the signal was given, Tom was fully in his zone and she watched mesmerized as he launched a beautiful attack on Ethan. The two of them fought for the first thirty seconds like they were on fast forward. They fought so fast the human eye couldn't keep up – she couldn't wait to analyze this on video later. At the two minute mark, both were bloody, and when the crowd started the countdown fifteen seconds before the five minute mark, they both flew at each other when the crowd hit
three
, and once again fought so fast it was impossible to tell who had the upper hand. Blood was flying by this time, but neither of them were slowing down one bit.

The final event fight lasted up to fifteen minutes. At twelve minutes they were both hurt. Both had slowed down, but neither looked like they intended to stop fighting any time soon. Sam knew fighters had to have blood tests and couldn't have any diseases communicable through blood in order to fight, but she still had major issues when there was enough blood flying to make the floor slick with it in places. Ethan had a cut near his eye and appeared to be doing most of the bleeding. She was sure if this weren't the main event the officials would have stopped the fight by now, but the problem was she had no idea who they would call as the winner. Both had gotten in some exceptional hits and a whole lot of wicked kicks. Ethan's face had been cut when Tom had kicked him in the face while flying through the air.

Just as she was thinking she had no idea how they would call a winner if no one was knocked out, she saw Ethan leave himself open and Tom take the opening with a kick to the side of the face that threw Ethan to the ground and kept him there. As soon as the official realized he was no longer conscious they threw open the cage and paramedics rushed in while the officials raised Tom's hands to show him as the winner.

* * * *

By the time Sam made it backstage the photographers had Tom occupied, so it was her and the rest of the gang just standing and watching. When the photographers finally released him, it was Ethan who made it to him first to shake his hand and congratulate him. Ethan had obviously had time to shower and put a butterfly bandage on the cut near his eye, while Tom still looked like he’d just left the cage. Sam held back a moment, waiting for Ethan to finish the congrats and move on before she walked up. She finally realized the two were talking, an actual conversation, and she couldn't hold back much longer without being obvious about it. As she stepped up she heard Ethan offering to buy Tom dinner at a nearby steak place.

Tom answered with, “Well, sure. We can do that. I've already got plans to eat with friends, but we hadn't decided where yet, so we can all head there.”

Ethan looked right at Sam and then back at Tom. “Glad to hear it, the more the merrier.”

Son-of-a-bitch. The jerk wasn't going to take no for an answer, was he? But, come to think of it, she hadn't given him an actual “no” yet, she'd just beat around the bush. Well then, she'd have to fix that, and dinner sounded like as good a time as any.

She started to give Tom a hug but saw the dried blood on him and changed her mind, saying, “It looks like Ethan got a shower while you had your picture taken –why don't you grab a shower and then let Francisco check you over, since I'm sure you wouldn't let the event people do anything.”

Tom grinned. “You know me too well. Okay, see you in a few minutes.”

When he was gone Randy, who had been backstage the whole time, said, “Sam, did you drive?”

“Cassie picked me up at home and we picked Francisco up at the dojo. You drove Tom, right?”

“Yeah, my girlfriend will be meeting us when we eat.” He shifted his view to look at Cassie. “Are you okay to take Tom home after we eat?”

Cassie glanced at Sam then looked at Randy. “Sure, what's her name?”

“Her name’s Kate, and don't worry, Sam and I have talked and we're good.”

“Yes, Sam is
always
good, but that doesn’t mean I don't still feel the need to check on her. If she did decide you were an asshole and you needed to pay, we'd all be visiting you in the hospital.”

Francisco laughed. “You got that right. Tom's the only one of us who can kick her ass on a regular basis.”

Sam really wished Ethan weren't standing there hearing this conversation. “I'll have you know, Randy actually did manage to win when we sparred Thursday night. I'd have owed him drinks if he hadn't had a hot date. Like he said, we're good. You got a date coming too, Francisco? How come we never meet any of your girlfriends?”

Francisco gave his famous Romeo smile, the one that let you know he was a player and wasn't ashamed of it. “My girls know me as a lover, not a fighter.”

Cassie spoke up. “He just doesn't let them get close to him, they only know what he wants them to know, which isn't much. But we aren't here to psychoanalyze poor Francisco. What about you Ethan, you got a girlfriend?”

Ethan smiled. “Nope, I was kind of hoping I might talk Sam into being my date for the evening, but with this cut over my eye and what I'm sure is destined to be a black eye, I'm not hopeful of my chances.”

Sam narrowed her eyes at him, then changed her mind and decided to be pleasant. “I'm not really up for the dating thing at the moment, but it was sweet of you to ask. You're good in the ring. Where do you work out? I haven't seen you around.”

“I've only been in Chattanooga a few months; haven't found a place to call home yet.” He named a few places he'd tried and Tom came out behind him, clean and in street clothes, saying, “I own a dojo out near Hamilton Place, though it's a bit off the beaten path, not in the midst of the chaos of the mall. You're welcome to come try us out, see what you think. You want someone to spar with, talk to Sam, she's the one who told me how to beat you.”

Ethan's face grew into a slow grin as he took his time turning his head back to look at her. “Did she now? Give me a week to heal and I'll have to set up a time to come in and check things out. I drove myself, if anyone needs a ride.”

Sam glared at Cassie, but she knew what Cassie the matchmaker was going to say before she opened her mouth. “Sam rode with me, but we've got three people so she may as well ride with you.”

Sure, no problem, it would give her a chance to tell him to back off without an audience and allow him to keep his dignity.

* * * *

By the time they walked out of the building most of the spectators were gone, so they walked out pretty much by themselves since the rest of the group had parked on the other side of the building.

“I know your friends kind of cornered you into this, and I'm sorry about that. I'd rather you were here because you want to be. Anything I can do to make this easier for you?”

Sam took a breath and then worked to let it out without sounding exasperated. “Look, you seem like a really nice guy, but I meant what I said – I'm not looking for a boyfriend, not looking for a guy to have fun with, I've taken myself off the market.”

“Can I ask what’s made you reach this decision?”

She glanced at him then looked back in the direction they were walking. “You're in sales, right?”

“No, and I'm sorry if I've done anything to give you that opinion of me. I thought it was an acceptable question. You're an attractive woman who seems to have a nice head on her shoulders, and you’re apparently disciplined enough of a fighter to have the respect of someone who kicked my ass. I'm just wondering what would make you reach a decision to stay unattached.”

Well, when he put it that way... but her decision wasn't to remain unattached, she just wasn't going to shop from the general public anymore. But how in the hell could she tell him that? And did she owe him an explanation? He was being nice, and generally speaking she believed in treating nice with nice. So yeah, she probably did owe him some kind of explanation, something at least in the realm of truthful.

“It's kind of hard to explain. It isn’t so much I've decided I'm not looking for a boyfriend at all, but I'm not going to date guys in the fight scene anymore, and since that's pretty much the only place I meet men right now… Crap. Yeah, I guess it does mean I'm planning to stay unattached. Gee, thanks for pointing that out, perhaps I need to find a Plan B at some point. But not today, and not this week. Randy is a good friend, and we almost screwed our friendship up by dating. We're good now, but he's still a bit weird about some things and I don't like him feeling uncomfortable around me.”

“So did I mess up my chance with you by saying I'd try out your dojo? If you just don't want to date guys at the dojo I can stay away.”

She shook her head and watched where she was walking, not looking at him.

He looked at her thoughtfully as he walked. “No, that's not it. There's more you aren't telling me, isn't there?”

She was mesmerized by his voice, such gentle strength in such a deep baritone. She couldn’t quite figure out his ethnicity and didn't want to be rude and ask as it wasn't any of her business. He had the most beautiful skin — it looked like he had a deep golden tan, but she'd bet money it was his natural skin tone without a tan.

“Yes, there's more. And no, I don't want to talk about it. What brought you to Chattanooga?”

“Here's my truck, let me get the door for you.”

It was a nice truck, as trucks tend to go. Black and shiny and clean with a lockbox in the back. The interior wasn't the luxury model but wasn't the base model either. She let him get the door and waited for him to get in before saying, “My turn to ask something twice –what brought you to Chattanooga?”

He started the truck and put it into drive. “Work. You've lived here your whole life?”

“Whoa, why don't you want to tell me why you’re here? I told you more than I thought was your business to know, your turn to share.”

He was quiet a moment and said, “Okay, I'll tell you. Most of the time I tell people I work for a moving company and the company opened up a new branch here. Sometimes I let them believe I'm just the muscle, someone who moves the furniture around, sometimes I let them believe I'm some sort of manager. Fact is, I own the company. Five locations in the Atlanta area and I wanted to expand and decided Chattanooga was the right market. So here I am, getting it up and running and, on the days I don't need to run the place, I can still go out and be the muscle. Helps me stay in shape. I rarely tell people I'm the owner though, it's better if they just think I'm brainless muscle.”

“And you told me the truth because...”

“Because I like you, and because you don't seem like the kind of woman who’d date someone for his money. And because I want to be honest with you from the get-go.”