The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2) (3 page)

Mason paid their dinner tab. He poked his head into the kitchen to tell Beth good-bye and thank Robert for the meal. Heading back to the front door, he led Avery back out onto the sidewalk, one hand tucked into the small of her back. Or at least one hand on the back of her coat.

He pointed to the F350 pickup sitting on the opposite side of the street—the one not quite covered in snow. “It’s the red truck up ahead there.”

The truck had been a gift to himself several years back. Even though the gas mileage sucked, it had all the bells and whistles any guy could want. Including heated seats, which he had come to think of as a necessity in winter.

Next to him, Avery matched his stride and asked, “Are you sure I shouldn’t just bring my own car?”

He glanced at her, or at what little he could see of her given her cap and scarf. “What, worried you’ll be at my mercy?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“More like worried that if Dustin gets really mad, he’s going to want me to leave. And without my car I’ll be stuck.”

“All the more reason not to have it. Means he’s going to know you have to stay at least for the night. We can stop by your car so you can grab whatever you need for the night.” Mason looked up at the darkening sky, not liking the ever-increasing snow that was coming down.

The Anders compound was three miles up the mountain, and while the roads were maintained by the county road department, they were still dirt and when a little snow was added in, they could be downright treacherous. “Besides, there’s no way I’m letting you drive up that mountain, so you might as well concede now! Ride with me tonight and I’ll make sure you get your vehicle tomorrow. Deal?”

She gave in with a huff of breath and a muttered curse directed his way. Mason grinned and asked, “Did you say something?”

“Yes, I said yes.”

“Good. I’ll pull around the corner. Bring whatever you want and we’ll just toss your things in the back seat.”

Mason guided her to his truck. He got her inside and then pulled around the building and stopped when she gestured to a late model Ford Taurus that was already looking half buried by snow. No way would she have made it up the mountain in that tonight. She sat next to him, fidgeting with her purse strap as if she was feeling out of her depth—or maybe nervous about being in such close proximity with a stranger.

When he pulled up next to her car, she didn’t wait for him to help her, but jumped out of the truck and opened the back of her Taurus. Before he could get out, she pulled out a suitcase and a couple of other bags.

Glancing around, Mason saw the street was empty. Smart people had already gotten themselves home and out of the cold. He threw the truck in park where it was and climbed out. Reaching out, he tried to take the biggest suitcase.

Pulling away, she lugged the bags to his truck. “I can do it.”

Mason opened the back door of the crew cab. “Never said you couldn’t. I was trying to be polite.”

He saw her face flame red—or the small bits of cheek showing did. She pushed her bags onto the seat and turned to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Mason started to offer her a hand up into his truck. Given her winter coat, the only place to put his hands would have been on her ass, and he didn’t think she’d appreciate being handled in such a fashion. Besides, she seemed to be all stubborn, Miss Independence.

He waved her into the passenger seat and came around to climb back into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up.”

She clicked her seatbelt and glanced at him. “Hey, I don’t want to offend the one person that might be able to persuade Dustin to stop this foolish…I mean.”

“Great, you’re going to insult my sport now.” He grinned at her and put the truck in gear.

Mason drove and tried to keep his mouth shut so he could ignore the woman next to him. But her scent filled the truck with something flowery and sweet. And how could he not notice that profile—the straight nose, those killer cheekbones and those shadowed eyes.

Since his last fight, he’d been doing without any female company. The family martial arts school and training Dustin were taking all his energy and time—not to mention his own recovery work. That hadn’t been a problem, until now. He’d just have to hope she works things out fast with Dustin. He didn’t need her kind of distraction right now.

Maybe after my next fight I could call her up and we could spend some time together.
He almost laughed at himself. As if she’d ever hook up with a fighter, given the way she felt about the MMA. She was more likely to tell him to go punch himself.

Mason turned off the main highway and started up the road to Ander’s training camp. Five miles of winding road needed most of his attention, but not all of it. He’d driven this road every day for months now.

As they neared the compound, he wondered what she might find in the training gym. Today was Friday, which meant that several of the local fighters had arrived for some sparring practice. That meant Dustin would more than likely be in the ring. Hopefully faring better than last week.

The kid was over-confident in his ground game. He’d been sparing, Mason knew, with one of the local fighters who didn’t have the same handicap. The last session, Dustin had found himself on his back, his hands up as he tried to stave off the multiple elbows, hammer fists, and punches to his headgear.

His protective gear had kept Dustin from coming out of the first round a bloody mess. But he’d gotten himself two black eyes. It wouldn’t be great if Avery walked in on Dustin getting pounded again. Which means he should probably prep her for meeting the guys, and a few bruises on her brother, just in case.

“Dustin should be in the training gym with some of the other fighters. I’ll be happy to take you over there, but…I need you to promise me you won’t over react.”

Avery looked at him and narrowed her eyes before asking, “What’s your definition of over reaction?”

Mason glanced at her and then back to the road as he pulled into the driveway that opened out into the parking area, “Dustin’s been working hard, but he got bested last week. His headgear protected him, but he came out of it with some bruising. Are you going to faint at the sight of blood?”

She pulled in a sharp breath. He noticed her gloved hands clench. “Some bruising? And you keep telling me this is a safe sport.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and then said, “If Dustin’s gotten a few bruises, maybe it’ll help convince him to give this up.”

Parking up in front of the main gym, a large barn-shaped building, Mason got out. Avery didn’t wait for him to open her door. She hopped out and glanced around. Mason did, too, wondering what she thought of the place.

Rustic and rambling Terry Ander’s training camp offered up a large log cabin for the main building, with a wide wrap-around porch, several porch swings, and a large stack of firewood off to one side. Smoke rose from the cabin and yellow lights glowed in the windows with welcoming warmth. The gym sat in the middle of the compound.

A few other trucks were parked out front. Shadows swallowed up most of the pines, leaving them inky giants that blocked the stars starting to pop. The silence of the place soaked into Mason, and the crisp air stung his lungs. The setting was paradise, even covered in snow.

Avery gestured to the six smaller log cabins where the fighters bunked. “How many people are here?”

Mason counted up the cars and trucks and then shrugged. “Looks like enough for a full house. Hey, no need to be nervous. The more people around the less likely your brother’s going to lose his cool, right?”

She chewed on her bottom lip.

Mason watched her nibble on that lush bottom lip of hers. He stifled a groan. That’s what he’d like to be doing—getting a taste of those lips. Reaching out, he touched his thumb to the corner of her mouth. “You’re going to freeze your mouth, you keep that up.” He saw her stiffen so he pulled away and stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “Looks like the next batch of fighters are here. Including Dustin and myself, and the local boys, there’s probably around fifteen guys here, plus the trainers.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “That’s a lot.”

“You should see it in summer. How about we go in and let Dustin know you’re here. Then we’ll see about snagging you a bed?”

Bed…yeah, that’s where he’d like to see her. An imaged flashed of her naked and that glorious hair of hers spread over white sheets. The picture seemed far too vivid—all that pale skin and golden hair. He shifted his weight and pushed the fantasy away. She wasn’t a ring girl looking for fun, and he wasn’t looking for female trouble. Better to just let her and Dustin work out their differences so she could head home.

Avery nodded and said, “Yeah, that sounds like a really good idea.”

Turning, Mason led the way into the gym. He told himself he was not going to look back at her, he was not going to let those lost eyes of her drag him into anything, and he was going to make sure Dustin handled this.

But then he had to stop and open the gym door for her, and he glanced at her. Her eyes seemed huge and worried. Mason mentally kicked himself, because every time he looked at her all his good intentions to stay clear of her went out the door. He knew he was going to end up playing referee between Avery and her brother.

Avery stepped into the brightly lit gym and stopped. Heat washed over her. She pulled off her woolen cap and gloves and started to unbutton her coat. The musty odor of sweat and leather hung in the air, and loud rock music bounced off the walls. Van Halen she thought. She glanced at Mason and hollered, “Is it always this loud?”

He grinned and nodded. “When they’re not sparring, you bet.” He glanced around and strode toward what looked like a ring. Avery glanced around. She could see a few guys in sweats, working out with weights. One guy stood in front of a punching bag and another was doing pushups. But she didn’t see Dustin. She let out a breath. Maybe he had already wised up and had listened to her. She hung onto the thought. She’d be more than happy if this trip turned out to be wasted time.

Glancing at Mason, she saw him frown. He waved to a couple of the guys and headed to an older man with gray hair who had a towel around his neck. The older man couldn’t be one of the fighters, but was he Terry Anders, or the other guy Mason had mentioned earlier?

“Hey, Tavvy. Where’s Dustin? I thought he’d be here.”

Tavvy stepped forward. He had kindly brown eyes, Avery thought, and a wiry body. He looked far too nice to be a trainer. He faced her and extended his hand. “Who’s this you’ve brought to brighten up the gym with?”

Avery shook the older man’s hand. “Avery Caldwell. I’m Dustin’s sister.”

Tavvy swapped a look with Mason, his eyebrows raised. Mason gave a slight shrug, and Avery wondered what those short-hand gestures meant between the two men. They obviously knew each other very well.

For a moment, she wondered if it was good for Dustin to have guys like these around. Edward’s death had hit Dustin hard, leaving him touchy and moody at times. After their parents had died, Edward had become the dad in the family—up until his death, too.

Dustin had never wanted to talk about it, but she knew Dustin took it hard. There were times she thought Dustin was trying to make himself into Edward. That that was why he’d taken up MMA fighting. She had to make him see he was meant for more than that—that he had other talents he could use.

Tavvy gave her a broad smile, shook her hand and nodded to the side. “Mason, could I speak with you for a brief moment? Ma’am, good to meet you.”

Turning to Avery, Mason waved at the gym. “Go on and take a look around. I’ll be back in a moment.”

*****

Mason followed Tavvy a short distance away and asked, “Okay, so where’s our golden boy?”

“Ain’t here. That gal he’s been spending his free time with saw you and his sister in the diner. She called up here to talk to Dustin and mentioned seeing you with someone. She described Dustin’s sister to a tee and he took off like the hounds of hell were on his heels. I’ve never seen a man strip off his sparring gear so fast!”

“Damn. All she wants to do is talk to him—and he bolts like some kind of total wimp!” He glanced at Avery and back to Tavvy. “She’s here to try and convince him to come home because MMA fighting is dangerous.”

Tavvy gave a snort and rolled his eyes. “As if living ain’t? I tried to talk to Dustin, get him to stay. All he’d do was curse and say some rather colorful words about what a meddling piece of work his sister was. I was expecting the Wicked Witch of the West to come pounding in here, ready to take scalps if she didn’t get what she wanted.”

“Any idea where he went?” Mason asked, turning back to watch Avery. She had walked to the edge of the gym and kept her arms folded, staying clear of the fighters. Her forehead wrinkled and he could see sweat sheen her nose and cheeks. She needed to take her coat off, but was glad she didn’t.

Once the guys here saw her figure and all that beautiful hair, they’d be falling over themselves to do a lot more than just say hi to her. “What am I supposed to tell his sister? That her brother’s vanished? She’s really going to think we’re taking care of Dustin then.”

“Well, now. That I don’t rightly know. You could send her packing for the night and have her come back tomorrow.”

Mason shook his head. “Can’t do. She doesn’t have a place to stay, so I figured she could bunk in Dustin’s cabin in the second bedroom.” Glancing down at the floor, Tavvy shook his head and tried to hide a grin. Mason sighed and asked, “Okay, why is that not a good idea?”

“These guys brought one extra with them. I put him in the second bedroom in Dustin’s cabin.”

Mason dug a hand through his hair. “Great. So where am I supposed to put her?”

Tavvy grinned. “You have the only extra bed on the premises. Mr. and Mrs. Fenton are still here visiting Mr. Anders, and they’re using his daughter’s room.”

Mason’s mouth dried. “The last thing I need is to spend even more time with her. I’m already having a hard time keeping my hands to myself as it is!”

“Oh, come on. A big boy like you? Haven’t you learned restraint by now? I hear it’s good for the soul.”

Shaking his head, Mason punched Tavvy’s arm. “If it’s so good, why don’t I give her your room and you can bunk with me?”

Tavvy held up his hands. “Son, I don’t give up my bed or my room for no one, no way. Besides, I need to be close to Mr. Anders in case he needs me, you know that. Now, go work that charming personality of yours on her to see if you can smooth some ruffled feathers, ‘cause I’m pretty sure she’s going to be more than unhappy to find out Dustin bailed on her. Dumb-ass kid! I almost think maybe she’s right about him. Running out like this is the kind of stunt a teenager pulls, not a grown man!”

Mason nodded. And Tavvy was right. Guys who wanted to train to fight in the MMA needed to manage their private lives like an adult. Fighting was tough work meant for adults. It wasn’t a sport for kids who only wanted to pretend to be grown up.

“Dustin and I are going to have a nice long talk about responsibilities. When I find him that is. Do you think he’s hiding out with that gal from town?”

“Sharla? Probably. Her dad has a cabin on the other side of the lake. I could ask around tomorrow when I go into town. By the way, I already tried calling the kid’s phone. Found it ringing away in his locker. He tore out of here so fast, he left most of his stuff in his locker, so don’t think you can nail him that way.”

“Man, he is just racking up the ways I’m going to make him pay when I finally get him back in the ring!”

Tavvy grinned. “Well, don’t let his sister see you pounding that boy. Not unless you want her screaming at you.”

“Or fainting on me,” Mason muttered. He was a firm believer in learning from your mistakes. But he had the feeling he’d made a big one by ever getting mixed up in this family argument. He couldn’t see a way out of this now. “Guess I better go get this over with. Not only do I have to tell her Dustin’s flown the coop, but I also get to invite her to share my cabin for the night. She’s going to love that.”

Tavvy laughed. “What are you complaining about? She’s gorgeous. Turn on that famous Burton charm and you should be just fine. In fact, you should have no problem at all getting her to think about something other than her missing brother. A little wine. Steaks on the grill maybe?”

Mason shook his head. “We already ate. And she hates fighters. I’ll be lucky if I don’t end up sleeping in my truck or on the sofa in the lodge.” Turning, he put on his best smile and thought,
Here goes nothing!