A Natural Act (Contradictions) (19 page)

Don’t misunderstand me, there are blows being cast in both directions that I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of.

Neither man is being gentle, but nor are they trying to draw blood. They’re simply testing their own limits, finding ways to improve their techniques.

When Craig tackles Tank to the ground, he doesn’t continue beating him. He doesn’t beat the guy whilst he’s down. He waits until Tank taps the floor and then helps him up.

They even laugh it off.

The more I watch Craig, the easier I breathe. This is still my doctor. He’s strong and muscular but he’s not violent. Fighting is something else which he controls, he controls his movements, the power of his blows, he controls his opponent within the confines of the sport.

At the end of it all, the two men grin and bump fists. They part as friends. As equals.

Craig is sweating so Carla tosses him a towel as he walks towards us. He catches it in one hand and rubs it over his face and neck. He studies me carefully before approaching, trying to gauge my mood.

“
Know what time it is?” He asks me with a lop-sides grin.

“
Five PM,” I glance at the clock.

He shakes at his head.
“Sweaty hug time,” the lop-sided grin grows fuller and his eyes sparkle with mischief.

Lovely as he is with his
clove-scented masculinity, I like being clean and dry so I squeal and make a run for it.

I know it’s a pointless mission before I’ve taken my first step. He’s going to catch me.

It doesn’t take him long. I’m in his large, sweat-beaded arms before I can count to three.

He plants a wet kiss on my neck and turns me around to face him.

“Craig Carter,” I reprimand him. “Now I smell like sweaty man.”

He dips his face in close to
my skin, trailing his lower lip across the pulse on my neck. “Nope,” he whispers as he inhales. “Smell delicious. Good enough to eat.”

When I stop giggling he presses a kiss to the top of my nose and follow up with a deeper, breath-taking kiss to my lips.

“Craig,” I manage once he pulls away slightly. “You're making a scene. People are watching.” I loom around the packed gym.

“
Good,” he grins cheekily. “Then they know you're with me and nobody will mess with you.”

“
Mr Carter,” I reprimand light-heartedly because it's quite sweet but a little bit Neanderthal.

“
Have you ever brought a girl here before?” I ask him as he picks me up from the floor.

“
Only Jelly,” he shrugs.

“
Then I think people have already put two and two together,” I tell him, my hands against his chest.

“
Best to be sure,” he mumbles, pulling me into him for another kiss.

Despite the fact that I know there are a good twenty or so people watching us, it's easy to forget their presence in the wake of this kiss. It isn't about marking his territory, it isn't about claiming me. It's tender, soft, but passionate. It's his way of showing his affection, of letting me know that he doesn't care people are looking, he's only interested in me right now. He may hold the eyes of everyone around us but I'm the only one that has his attention.

“Coffee before we go?” He raises a questioning eyebrow at me as he pulls away, a hint of trouble in his eyes. I suspect his mind is where mine is. Naked-town.

“
Yes please,” I grin.

“
Hop on, lady,” he bends his knees and gestures for me to hop on his back.

“
Craig,” I reprimand him. I'm not five years old.

“
Not asking, I'm telling,” he winks back at me over his shoulder.

He looks so boyish and happy and I'm not about to ruin that for him when he's too serious, too often. I can oblige him just this once.

“No, don't run,” I squeal as he charges through the gym causing other gym-goers to jump out of the way.

I sh
ouldn't really complain though because it's the perfect opportunity for me to hold on tight to my toned doctor. His muscles are pumped from his workout and it's always startling to me to feel his strength beneath my relatively delicate palms.

“
Groped me,” he tells me when he lets me slide down gently onto the floor once we reach the gym's small homely café.

“
I did not grope!” I protest. “I held on for dear life.”

He just chuckles and shakes his head.

“What you having, Craig?” I middle aged woman shouts across from the counter.

“
Usual and whatever the lady wants,” he looks at me in expectation.

“
A latte please,” I smile.

“
A latte,” he repeats my order to the woman. “And a peanut butter cookie.”

“
You're having a cookie?” I recoil slightly in shock. That's not on the Craig Carter Success Diet.

“
You are,” he shakes his head. “They're delicious and I'm living through you.”

I laugh.
“No cookies at all for you?”

“
Only if Jelly bakes them,” he tells me. “Sinfully good.”

“
You'd break your diet for Jamie?” I smile fondly.

“
No choice, she does puppy dog eyes if I say no. Plus they taste so damn good that I can't avoid them. I'm lucky most of them go before I get to them otherwise I'd get fat from her baking alone.”

“
She did make a mean cake when we visited,” I nod in agreement.

He groans.
“Now I'm hungry.”

I laugh because he looks genuinely pained and haunted by the memory of that cake.

“I don't know how you do it,” I tell him.

“
You're crazy skinny,” he scoffs. “You obviously don't indulge that often.”

My expression drops and I look down at the table.

“What?” His smile falls too. “What did I say?”

“
Nothing,” I muster a smile because it's nice to have somebody who doesn't want me to be sad. “Just... It's not my fault I was skinny.”

“
Nigel,” Craig grits his teeth.

“
He... He used to portion my food, decide how much I eat. He used to check the fridge and cupboards to make sure I wasn't eating any. He earned more money, in his mind, the food was his.”

“
Bastard,” Craig swears, lifting me in his usual effortless way to sit on his knee. Whenever he can see I'm struggling with my past, he needs contact. He needs me close.

“
Sometimes I wouldn't eat on purpose because then the decision was mine,” I admit.

“
Understandable,” Craig mumbles, his voice carefully controlled but I can tell he's seething. “Your way of fighting back.”

“
Passively,” I shake my head.

“
Still fighting back,” he tells me with a small smile.

“
I guess,” I nod.

“
Just for the record,” he begins, brushing my hair away from my face. “What's mine is yours. You see food in my house, you want it, you eat it. Simple as.”

“
Thanks,” I grin because Craig and his food have a hard-core relationship.

“
Do that at my brothers' house, I'm going to have to fight someone. Fair warning,” he tells me seriously but his eyes are laughing.

“
I don't like fighting,” I mumbles, deciding not to help myself to food at their house.

“
Know that, lady,” Craig nods solemnly. “That's why I brought you here today.”

I nod because I know he had a bit of an agenda.

“You okay?” He asks. He's not asking me a superficial question.

He's asking me if I can accept his part of him, if I can handle the MMA side of him even though I found
it scary when I first met him.

“
I am,” I nod firmly.

“
You don't like violence,” he whispers, cupping my cheek in one hand.

I shake my head.
“I don't.”

“
I fight.”

“
I know,” I smile, kissing the palm of his hand. “But watching you wasn't violent. It was almost beautiful. You both looked like you were enjoying it. There was sportsmanship there.”

“
Beautiful,” he scoffs but he looks relieved. “The word you're looking for is manly.”

“
Beautifully manly,” I reassure him with a generous side of mockery.

“
Are you sure you're okay with it?” He studies me intently.

I nod and smile back.
“It's not what I was expecting. I couldn't figure out how you could look after me so tenderly and then beat people up for fun.”

He stays silent for a while, his eyes penetrating through to my inner
thoughts in that way that only he can.

“
You were worried I might one day hurt you?” He questions.

I bite my lip.
“I know you're a good person, Craig. I just couldn't figure out how those two sides of you merged. I know you'd never hit me.”

“
Never,” he affirms.

“
But I understand it now. It's not at all what I had in mind and I think you should be very proud of your status within the sport and all that you've achieved.”

He kisses me. Hard.

I hadn't realised how worried he was that I would reject this side of him. He must have been holding it back slightly, keeping it from me. Now he knows that every part of him is a part of who he is and I love every part of him.

Every part of my mischievous, doctor, guardian, and boyfriend.

“
Epomlepoy,” Craig mumbles unintelligibly upon waking.

“
Morning,” I reply, pulling the duvet down so I can see him in his morning glory.

“
Morning,” he manages around a yawn.

In his usual perky fashion, he’s fully awake before my eyelids have even fully opened.

“No don’t,” I squeal playfully as Craig’s hands sneak round my waist and cup a breast each.

“
Mine, lady,” he insists with a smile in his voice. He snakes one hand around my waist to pull me closer into him with the other hand firmly massaging my tender nub.

“
Warned you I have a high sex drive, lady,” he chuckles. “You liked the idea.”

“
I love the idea, Craig,” I grin. “But I came on yesterday, remember?”

“
So?” He retorts. “Can still play with these and I bet I can make you come.”

“
I don’t doubt it,” I plead, pulling his one hand away from me with both of mine. “But they’re too sensitive.”

“
Just makes my job even easier,” he grins, his lips against the pulse in my neck.

“
It almost hurts, Craig,” I whimper and his hands stills mid-way on its journey up my body.

“
Hurts?” He grunts.

I nod.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, lady.”

“
I know,” I smile, rolling over onto my front to get a better look at him. It has nothing to do with the fact that my breasts are humming. Nothing at all.

“
Doesn’t mean I can’t sort you out though,” I pout, shuffling down the bed so I can kiss his nipple.”

“
No way, lady,” Craig grins. “This relationship is a proper one.”

I let that statement sink in, knowing it’s one of grand proportions for a man like Craig. What he’s trying for me is monumental for him.

“You go without, I go without,” he insists.

“
But your high sex drive,” I pout, placing another kiss to his nipple.

“
Will have its revenge in a few days,” he winks and then his expression turns to that cheeky smile that means I’m talking to the real Craig.

“
Promise?” I smile knowingly.

“
Promise,” he grins back before pressing his lips to mine. The usual hot heat of his passion is there but I can tell he’s making a concerted effort to restrain it and that makes me love him all the more.

Love him?

That’s a thought I definitely do not need to analyse right now. I push it to the back of my mind and attribute it to early morning, time of the month hormones.

“
Two surprises for you today, lady,” Craig informs me as he sits up in bed.

Today is one of the very few, highly cherished days where we both have a day off from work and I get the feeling he’s been looking forward to it almost as much as I have.

“Oh?” I ask excitedly. “Surprises. What are they?”

“
Told you that, they wouldn’t be surprises now would they?”

“
Will I like them?” I beam, far too excited.

“
Honestly?” He raises a doubtful eyebrow.

I nod far too enthusiastically.

“The first one, almost definitely not,” he admits.

I frown in confusion because that doesn’t sound like a nice surprise.

“The second one kind of depends.”

“
On what?”

He shrugs.

“Craig,” I push him playfully and poke his stomach.

He grins and captures me in his embrace so I can’t poke him.

“Kiss me, lady,” he demands.

“
No,” I shake my head. “You’re being difficult.”

“
Woman. Kiss me,” he insists.

“
Tell me what my liking of the surprise depends on,” I demand.

He grins and swoops in for a surprise kiss. I’d be grumpy that he didn’t answer the question if it weren’t for the way his tongue traces the plump flesh of my lower lip.

“Craig,” I whine when he pulls away.

“
Bella,” he grins. “You never commented on my tattoos.”

“
What? Stop changing the subject.”

He just grins and points to the tattoos on his side.

“They’re part of you,” I shrug because that’s how I see them and he’s relentlessly not answering me.

“
You look at me differently now to how you looked at me when we first met,” he points out.

“
That’s because both my eyes work now,” I tease.

He gives me a look.

“That’s because I didn’t know you then,” I say honestly, realising that he seriously wants to talk about this. Right now. I make a mental note to press him for more about the surprises over breakfast.

“
What did you think when you first saw me?” He presses, a somewhat serious expression on his face.

I take a moment to consider my words.
“You were slightly intimidating.”

He smirks slightly and presses a gentle kiss to my lips, urging me to continue.

“Shaved head, big tattoos, and bigger muscles. Not to mention that ‘stay away’ snarl you wear. You’re intimidating but you already know that because I suspect you do it on purpose.

“
You suspect, do you?” He smirks, his eyes scanning my face with a severity that belies the humour on his face. I don’t think he’s quite comfortable with me peeling back his layers yet.

I nod tentatively.

“Maybe,” he shrugs.

“
You’re not that bad though,” I tease him lightly because I don’t like the intense look on his face.

“
Not that bad?”

“
No, in fact you may be the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

He chuckles and shakes his head
. “Tattoos,” he reminds me.

“
What about them?”

“
Like ‘em?”

“
I like you and they’re part of you,” I try to reassure him, tracing the line of his collarbone with my index finger. “Which one did you get first?”

Honestly, I’ve always been curious about his tattoos because – knowing Craig – he got each and
every one for a reason.

“
This one,” he points to a sheet of musical paper at the top of the waterfall, which goes from his shoulder, down his back and covers his ribs and obliques.

“
Why?”

“
There has to be a reason?”

“
You don’t seem like the sort of person who gets a permanent design on your body for no reason and without some meaning.”

He nods silently, still studying me like he’s trying to figure me out.

“You don’t have to tell me, Craig,” I reassure him confused because he started this conversation.

“
My dad taught me to read music,” he says after a few beats of silence. “The music is ‘Amazing Grace’. Grace was my mum’s middle name. Helen Grace Carter.”

I hug him closer to me because I doubt one ever recovers from losing parents.

“To be honest, got this one to piss Karl and Ian off. Got it as soon as I was eighteen.”

“
They don’t like tattoos?” I probe, not willing to miss any insight into my doctor.

“
Hate ‘em,” he grins. “When I was eighteen, I was sick of their helicopter parenting. They’re pretty strict. Still are. Just wanted to piss ‘em off.”

“
What did they do?”

“
Nothing much. The twins did the same when they were eighteen. They got their asses kicked. Think Ian knew what the tattoo was though. Think he understood.”

“
Is this one a jellybean?” I ask, eager to understand the rest of the tattoos.

He nods.

“For your sister?” I heard him call her Jellybean quite a few times when we were in Leeds.

Another nod.

“So each thing in the waterfall represents somebody in your family.”

He nods again and I playfully swat at him because he knows I hate it when he just nods at everything.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, pressing his lips to my forehead in apology.

He points to a picture of a man who looks suspiciously like the logo for a southern fried chicken company.
“The Colonel, what we call my granddad.”

“
The firework is Jake, because he’s a bit unpredictable and explosive like a firecracker.

“
Ian is the hobnob, they’re his favourite biscuit.”

“
The two pieces of Toblerone are the twins. They love Toblerone and the pieces are identical.”

“
Karl and Elise are the apple with wedding ring on the stalk. They have a thing for apples.”

“
Matt is the football because he and Karl met playing football before he came to live with us.”

I spend a few minutes looking at his tattoos. I’ve done it before but they
take on new meaning in light of the new information.

“
I love them even more now,” I smile at him. I can tell by the caution in his eyes that he doesn’t often divulge the meaning behind his tattoos to people. They’re personal to him and he can be a bit closed off.

“
Good,” he nods, sliding his hands down my waist to squeeze my behind. “Now for breakfast. Get dressed, lady.”

“
I can’t wear pyjamas?” I pout.

“
Not for this,” he shakes his head.

“
I was looking forward to spending all day in my pyjamas,” I pout.

“
Adorable as you are in those tiny shorts,” he gestures to my sky blue hot pants. “We have places to go.”

“
All day naked at home?” I offer, eyeing him hungrily because naked is sounding pretty good right now.

“
Don’t tempt me, lady,” he growls, his eyes devouring me already. “Made a promise which I’m already regretting.”

“
A promise to whom?” I ask with interest.

“
Clothes, Bella.”

“
Make me, Craig,” I grin impishly, enjoying the way he’s visibly struggling with the idea of staying home in our birthday suits.

He raises an eyebrow and
, for a second, I think he’s disapproving but then he breaks out a lop-sided smile and slings me over his shoulder.

He drops me onto the bed and I fall giggling onto the extremely comfortable mattress.

“You best pick. I pick, you’ll look like a clown,” he grins.

“
You always dress nicely,” I tell him because it’s true and watching him pick clothes for himself is one of my favourite pastimes.

“
Girls are hard to dress,” he shrugs, pulling a bright pink polo shirt from the cupboard. “Jelly used to cry if I picked her clothes.”

“
Really?” I laugh admiring the way he pulls off the luminous pink without losing any masculinity. I have to admit, he wears it well.

He nods.
“She started picking her own clothes when she was four or five because most of us didn’t meet her high standards.” He chuckles to himself and fastens his belt before looking at me expectantly.

I’m still lying on the bed in my pyjamas watching him. I pout and he grins before stalking over to me. He grabs my
ankles and gently pulls me across the bed until only my upper body is on the mattress.

He puts a hand on either side of my head and lowers himself over me for a kiss. His lips glide over my skin and rest on the beating pulse on my neck.

“Clothes, lady,” he growls and I shiver from the way his breath tickles my skin.

“
Yes, boss,” I manage, the sarcastic humour from my response lost in the aroused catch in my voice.

He hovers over me and opens his mouth to respond but the doorbell rings.

He sighs and rises to standing one graceful manoeuvre, glancing down at his watch.

“
On time as always,” he sighs. “You get dressed, I’ll stall. Surprise number one: meeting the brothers.”

I pout once more but he’s already out the door. I rush
to get dressed and eavesdrop as I move around the room. I’m not sure how to feel about this surprise, I want to meet his family but – by the sounds of it – his brothers can be a little intense.

“
Mornin’,” Craig greets our visitor.

“
Ready?” The voice answers. If I’m not mistaken, it’s the voice of Karl, the angry, shouting brother.

“
Almost,” Craig answers.