The Fighter's Fierce Temptation (3 page)

“So, Marguerite got you all squared away?” Tavvy asked, eyeing the young man and looking forward to putting him through his paces in the morning.

“Yes. I’m supposed to make sure to get my sparring partner up here in the next day or so.”

“That’d be a good idea. I’m not as young as I used to be and I haven’t done anything beyond some light bag work in years.”

“What about Mr. Anders? He mentioned he hasn’t been feeling well, but I guess I was expecting someone a little…”

“Bigger?” Tavvy asked, amusement lurking in his eyes.

“Well,” Bryant said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I guess that word fits. I’ve heard about what a great trainer he is, but I had a totally different image in my mind.”

Tavvy laughed and scooted back his chair from the table. “I hear that a lot. Come on, I’ll walk you back to your cabin. Training starts at nine o’clock sharp, and Marguerite will have a light breakfast ready around eight o’clock up here at the main house. Just enough to give you some energy for the morning, nothing heavy. So don’t feel like you have to knock, just come on in and help yourself.”

Bryant nodded as they exited the house and he stopped to admire the view from the deck. “It sure is gorgeous up here. I can see why Mr. Anders could never be convinced to move down to Vegas or one of the other larger training cities.”

Tavvy nodded. “His style of training wouldn’t work so well in a city atmosphere. Now, I suggest you get an early night and some good rest. You’re going to need it. Oh, and you’ll find some paperwork in the top drawer of the desk. Read through it and sign on the dotted line. Bring it up to the main cabin in the morning.” The trainer slapped Bryant on the back and took off to the opposite end of the compound, whistling as he went.

Bryant watched him for a minute and then headed for his own cabin. His cellphone started ringing as he shut the front door and he answered it while he settled himself on one of the overstuffed chairs. He was glad to hear his brother’s voice.

“Hey, bro. Just checking in with you. Did you convince Anders to train you?” Beck sounded cheerful as ever. The middle of the Burton brothers, Bryant sometimes thought Beck ended up being the one who’d gotten not only the good looks of every Burton but the best nature of all of them.

But for once, his good mood matched Bryant’s. “I must have because I’m still here and I’m supposed to get Zac up here too.”

Mason’s deeper voice pipped in. “Good for you!”

“Am in on speaker phone?” Bryant asked, not really surprised—that was the standard for the Burton brothers whenever one of them called home.

“How was the drive up to Oregon?” Mason asked, not bothering to respond to a question he felt didn’t even need to be asked.

“Good. The truck ran fine.” Bryant glanced out the window at his newer model Toyota Tundra. It had been his first gift to himself after he won his first big fight, and he loved driving it. It was white, totally loaded, and the best thing he’d ever gotten from fighting in the cage. “How are things at the school?”

“Business is good. We got a couple new guys.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bryant said with a grin.
I bet Mason’s just thrilled to have some wet-behind-the-ears kids asking him a bunch of questions!

“Yup. All they want to do is fight and talk to girls!”

“Fighting and girls.” Bryant shook his head. “Two things that never go well together.”

“You’d know, bro.”

“Yeah. Hey, I probably need to try and get a hold of Zac and see if he can still get up here for a few weeks.”

“Sounds good. Call if you need anything.”

The brothers finished their goodbyes. Hanging up, Bryant dialed Zac. Their conversation was quick as Zac was about to head out. But he’d promised to be in Oregon in the next two days. Zac was lucky enough to have a fantastic job that allowed him to take off for extended lengths of time to help Bryant prepare for a fight.

That was one of the benefits of living in a small community where everybody helped out everybody else. It also helped that his daddy was the fire chief and his uncle was the mayor. Larsen, Utah was a small town of around a thousand people, located about thirty minutes outside Salt Lake City. Their proximity to the larger city made living in the smaller town seem much larger.

After finishing his phone calls, Bryant located the paperwork Tavvy had mentioned. He read through it several times. It all seemed fairly straight forward, except for the clauses that required him to maintain complete silence regarding Terry Anders and everything associated with his training compound.

Bryant would be allowed to state only that he’d learned a lot, and it was one of the best experiences of his life, but revealing any details at all would throw him into a status of violating the agreement he’d just signed.
Guess I can do that, although I really don’t see what all of the secrecy is about? Maybe I’ll figure that out while I’m up here.

He ran through his normal conditioning exercises of pushups, sit-ups, and some light weightlifting using objects he found in the cabin. Then he took a hot shower and headed for bed.

He knew that here were plenty of people who said exercise before bed was a bad idea, but it had never bothered Bryant. He always slept like a log. Tomorrow he was being given the opportunity to train with one of the best, and there was no way he was going to not measure up. No way was he going to fail. Not like his last fight. Never again.

I’m going to die before lunchtime!

That thought went through Bryant’s head for the tenth time in as many minutes as he forced his legs to keep moving. He’d awakened, ready and excited for the day, and after grabbing an apple, a banana, and a large cup of coffee, he headed to the training gym to work with Tavvy.

The older man had suggested he go through his normal warm-up routine on the cardio machines, but to take it a bit easy since they would be going for a run just as soon as the boss arrived.

A run? More like a mini-marathon! Cross-country style!
Anders had shown up just as Bryant was finishing stretching dressed in baggy sweats, an oversized lightweight jacket, dark sunglasses, and a skullcap pulled down over his forehead. He hadn’t spoken a word to Bryant, but instead murmured something to Tavvy and took off running.

Tavvy had grinned at him and suggested he catch up to Anders—if he could. That was forty-five minutes ago and he was still trailing behind the old guy. He could hear Tavvy following them in an open vehicle called a Gator, which looked like a cross between a golf cart and a four-wheeler and had been painted John Deere green.

It was sheer determination that had Bryant still putting his feet one in front of the other, rather than begging for a ride back in the vehicle!

As he rounded the top of yet another hill, he was so relieved to see the training camp below, he felt like crying. His lungs were screaming with each breath he took, and his legs had long since gone numb.
I’ll be lucky if I can move later on. The old man’s trying to kill me on the first morning!

He pushed himself, needing to prove himself to the man who had been steadily outpacing him the entire run.
He’s like a machine!
Digging deep, he pulled every ounce of energy he could find up to the surface and increased his pace as he began the last descent. He almost caught up to the man—almost.

When Bryant finally reached the training gym, he watched as Anders walked up to Tavvy—walked, not even showing he was out of breath! He walked up to Tavvy, who had also arrived back at the compound, and he heard the two men share a short laugh while Bryant struggled to bring oxygen into his overworked lungs! After speaking with him briefly, Anders turned his head and watched Bryant suck deep breaths in, bent over at the waist and struggling for control.

Anders waited until Bryant raised his head. Anders offered him a smile and a nod before heading toward the main cabin.

“Where’s he going?” Bryant asked.

“Same place you are. The showers. Rinse off and then come back here. I’ll have a protein shake waiting for you and we’ll finish this morning’s workout off with some bag drills.”

Bryant nodded. He watched Tavvy head inside the training gym, shaking his head and murmuring beneath his breath. He couldn’t make out what the older man was saying, but whatever it was had him laughing.

Alice entered the main cabin, pulled the skullcap from her head, and then slowly drew out the pins that held her hair up. She gave it a good shake.
God, I hate wearing this cap!
Alice normally kept her hair gathered in a ponytail, especially when she ran, but that just wasn’t possible right now.
It’s only for a few weeks. You can do this
!

Nodding in agreement with herself, and appreciating her own encouragements, she walked toward the back of the main floor and pushed her father’s door open. “Daddy? How are you feeling today?”

She approached the bed, hiding the dismay she always felt when she was faced with the physical evidence of how debilitated his body had become. One side of his face was still slack, paralyzed. When he tried to smile, only one side of his mouth turned up.

“Good. You ran?”

“Yes, Dad. I went for a run. The mountains are beautiful this time of year.”
I wish you could have gone with me.
Since Alice had been a little girl, she and her father had always gone running together first thing in the morning. As she’d grown, their runs had gotten longer and encompassed more difficult terrain.

That habit had continued as she entered college, just not as frequently, given that they no longer lived together—and didn’t even live in the same town. She continued to run while away at college, and she knew her dad had been keeping up his standard routine.

On their last run together, the same morning he’d suffered his first stroke, they had run the six miles, one way, over the neighboring ridge to the lake and back. She missed those times with her father, and she was determined that he get well enough so he could at least follow behind her in the Gator with Tavvy.

She had insisted they purchase the all-terrain vehicle when Tavvy had come on board and they had begun taking their trainees and the local teens with them on their runs. It had been the wise thing to do, and on more than one occasion had saved time in having to send someone back to the compound for transport when there was a twisted ankle, or if an athlete become too ill to complete the run.

Please God, let Daddy get better enough to enjoy life once again.

Her father’s voice interrupted her morose thoughts. “You train today?”

Alice looked at him for a moment, hoping Marguerite hadn’t given away what they were doing. Her father needed to focus all his energies on getting better, not on worrying about whether or not Alice had gotten herself in over her head. “I thought I might spend some time in the gym this afternoon. These last few weeks I’ve gotten fat and lazy!” She smiled at him sweetly.

“No. Not fat. And never lazy.” Her father gave her a crooked smile.

“Well, whatever is causing my jeans to fit a bit snugger, I thought maybe I’d spend some time in the gym with Tavvy. He hasn’t had anyone around to beat him up for a few weeks now.”

Her father tried to smile. One of their running jokes was that Alice could take Tavvy in the ring. At two twenty, the older man outweighed Alice by over a hundred pounds, and he was almost eight inches taller. But she had youth and speed on her side, and most days she managed to get the upper hand on him.

“Be careful.”

“I will.” She turned, hearing Marguerite in the doorway. “Good morning, Marguerite. How are you today?”

“Just fine, thank you, Miss Alice. I’ve made you a recovery shake. It’s sitting in the kitchen for you.”

Alice stood up and thanked the woman on her way out the door. She turned to her father again. “Daddy, I’ll see you later. The therapist will be coming by in a little bit. Don’t be too hard on him, he’s only trying to help.” She winked at him and headed back through the kitchen.

Grabbing the shake from the kitchen counter, she took it up to her bedroom and finished it off while the water heated in the shower. Getting dressed after her quick shower, she happened to glance out her window and saw Bryant exiting his cabin and heading for the gym.

He had showered and changed, and rather than wearing a shirt, he had it draped over one shoulder, giving her a perfect view of his smooth chest and muscles.
God, he’s gorgeous.
She spent long minutes at the window watching him walk, before shaking her head and refocusing on his reason for being at the compound.

The money.

She grabbed yet another cap and pulled the oversized T-shirt over her bound breasts before she headed down the stairs and out the back door. Tavvy had already been given his instructions for the remainder of the morning, and she would only be observing and making notes for the afternoon’s training session.

I can handle this. Observation. Easy stuff, right?

Easy stuff? Who was I kidding?
Alice held back a sigh and deliberately closed her fists, her now unpainted nails digging into her palms just short of drawing blood.
What is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be observing his fighting style, not lusting over his body. Which just happens to be astonishingly gorgeous.

Bryant Burton was truly poetry in motion when he moved. His athletic body flowed smoothly from one stance to another, and she couldn’t remember another fighter who had posed such a challenge to Tavvy.
And it’s only the first day!

He’d yet to don his shirt, too. Alice couldn’t help but notice Bryant’s chest and back were covered with a fine sheen of sweat. She watched his muscles bunch and release, and found herself having a hard time keeping her mind focused on fighting.

Deeply tanned, his skin was free of the ink that adorned most fighters these days, something she truly appreciated as she’d never been attracted to tattoos, or the idea of needles. But as far as she could tell, that is where the differences ended. He was probably just another arrogant knucklehead.

Yet instead of being able to concentrate and formulate some rational thoughts about his training, she found herself unable to stop the visceral reaction she was having to Bryant’s performance. She’d never experienced this in relation to a fighter before and found it disconcerting and confusing.

Deciding Tavvy needed a break, she motioned him over and suggested he put Bryant on the wing chun dummy. The wooden structure was built so that when struck, it pivoted and turned, forcing the opponent to continuously block and counterattack.

Her father had specifically designed this particular version of the training device, modeled after the traditional kung-fu training piece, so the two arms and the single leg projecting from the main tree-like center post would require the fighter to toughen up his forearms and legs.

The structure was teak coated with several layers of shellac, giving it both a nice shine and longevity. Two padded surfaces were strapped around the center post, indicating where an opponent’s head and chest would be. By striking the wooden appendages, the device would spin, forcing the opponent to block or get hit.

Tavvy nodded. Bryant hadn’t been training long enough to fully strengthen those bones, but he did have a fight coming up in three months. He would have to work carefully and strategically to reinforce what his bones could withstand, and maybe he’d learn a new method of training his body, one he could easily employ in the future.

Tavvy hollered at him and waved Bryant over to work with the dummy. “You ever work with one of these?”

Bryant frowned. “No. I’ve seen them in the equipment catalogs, but I’ve never seen one in action. How does it work?”

Tavvy grimaced and looked back at Alice. He knew how the dummy worked, in theory, and in slow motion, he could do an adequate job of demonstrating its usefulness. But Bryant needed to see what the dummy could really do and for that, Tavvy needed Alice to demonstrate. When she looked back at him without moving, still keeping the dark glasses on her face, he waved her over.

Alice knew what Tavvy wanted of her and she was trying to figure out how to demonstrate the way the wing chun dummy worked while still maintaining her secret identity.
You can do this. Just a few moves to show him what it will look like when he masters it and Tavvy can take it from there.

Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the gym and motioned for Tavvy and Bryant to step back. She took several deep breaths to center herself and applied all of her concentration to the wooden structure before her.

As she released her third breath, she moved in and began striking and kicking the extended arms of the dummy, using her palm to deflect the opposing arm and landing a series of strikes and punches as she moved from one side of the device to the other.

She bit her lip to keep from releasing the shouts that threatened to burst forth from her lungs. All of her life she had been trained to use her vocal energy to help focus and define her physical reactions, and now, keeping silent was extremely difficult.
Not to mention vocal releases helped release tension and helping with the sting that came from striking the wooden appendages.

One minute later, she stepped back after delivering one final blow to the dummy. She was slightly out of breath, but it was nothing she couldn’t cover up for a few more minutes. She turned to see Bryant watching her, a look of awe on his face.

Clapping his hands, Bryant cheered her actions. “I always wondered what those were for. That was great!”

Lowering her voice, she addressed him as she turned to step back. “Now you know. Tavvy will take you through some of the motions slowly. Go gently. I don’t want you too bruised to work out this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir. Those wooden arms look like they might hurt a tad.”

Tavvy chuckled. “They do at that. But they will also build up your tolerance and allow your body to become accustomed to taking strikes in those areas. This will help give you an edge in the ring.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for. I’m not losing this next fight,” he said, his voice trailing off as he moved to the dummy. At the same time Anders tried to step out of his way, and the two ended up colliding, with Bryant using his hands on Alice’s arms to stop from knocking her over.

Alice barely contained her gasp of surprise when she felt Bryant place his hands on her upper arms to steady her and stop her from falling on her backside. She shivered in reaction to his nearness and quickly pulled herself away, muttering a quick “sorry” as she skirted around him and headed to the other side of the gym.