Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter (3 page)

BOOK: Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter
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Chapter Nine

 

Brandon

 

Fifteen minutes later, they were at IHOP, and Brandon was pouring maple syrup over two stacks of pancakes.

“Pancakes? For lunch?”

“Mmmugpogh,” was Brandon’s response, as he shoveled the buttermilk deliciousness into his mouth. Vinnie was paying, so he wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to eat.

Vinnie grinned.

“So here’s the deal,” he explained. “The MMA commission is looking for a new contender. An unheard of. Someone with a
story
.”

Washing down his mouthful with a glass of milk, Brandon scoffed, “Vinnie. I haven’t fought in nearly three years – and I was hardly circuit material back then. Why the fuck would they want me?”

“’Cos I told ‘em about you,” Vinnie explained, tucking into his steak. “I mean, shit, Bruiser. You were a goddamned
machine
in the octagon, back in the day. If you hadn’t quit on me to go study law, you could have been wearing a big, gold belt by now.”

Brandon snorted, “And they’re offering championship fights based on third-party recommendations now?”

Vinnie shook his head.

“Stop being a wise-ass. Your reputation got your name on the list. The shit with the karate school – the retarded kids, shit like that…”


Special needs
,” Brandon growled, correcting him.

“Yeah, that,” Vinnie nodded. “That’s the
story
they wanted.” He gulped down a mouthful of sirloin. “They ate that up.”

Brandon chewed thoughtfully.

“They’d get a video crew out here,” Vinnie continued. “Film you and the retar… the
special needs
kids. Make you come across real good – just a small-town boy, trying to make it running a martial arts school.”

He swigged his coffee.

“Compared to MacDonald – he’s all upper-class, Downton Abbey shit – you’ll come across as a goddamned all-American hero.”

Brandon shook his head.

“Vinnie, I’m flattered man,” he admitted. “But I haven’t fought in three years. I’m good – I’m
really
fucking good – but he’ll kick my ass.”

Vinnie snorted.

“Two things, friend,” he reached over and squeezed Brandon’s arm. “First off, give yourself some credit. You run a goddamned karate school. You’re out doing punches and kicks and coaching black belt students eight hours a day,
every fucking day
. You might not have fought in three years – but it’s not like you’re out of fucking practice.”

Brandon listened silently.

“And secondly? It doesn’t fucking matter.”

Brandon blinked.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter if you lose. So fucking what? You get paid anyway.” Vinnie leaned in. “Five fucking grand. Just for turning up. Even if that Scottish bastard lays you flat in the first ten seconds.”

Brandon listened. He knew how fights worked. You got paid twice – once for simply turning up. Then again if you won.

And, as if reading his mind, Vinnie nodded.

“It’s not as much as Baller would have got paid,” he explained, “but because you’re the underdog, they’d pay you $10,000 if you win.”

That was a big ‘if’.

But what
wasn’t
a big ‘if’ was that promise of five thousand dollars.

It wouldn’t bail the karate school out – but it would keep the wolf from the door for at least a month or two. Maybe that would be enough time for Brandon to recruit some new students and turn things around.

And all he’d have to do would be turn up. Turn up and get his ass kicked.

Brandon had never
let
anybody kick his ass in his life. But for five grand? And the possibility of saving his karate school?

He might just be willing to do it.

Looking up into Vinnie’s bright, brown eyes, Brandon said, “I’ll think about it.”

Chapter Ten

 

Ava

 

As Ava bulled her Buick Enclave to a halt in the parking lot of BB Martial Arts Center, she realized her hands were trembling.

Goddammit.

The flustered housewife took a deep breath, and tried to calm down. As she clambered out of the tall car, and busied herself unstrapping Lex and Harley from their car seats, she tried to rationalize how ridiculous these feelings were.

It was all going to be cool.

She was going to walk into the karate school, and look Brandon in the eye, and it would be like nothing happened.

Right?

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Harley asked, and Ava forced herself to smile, and squeezed her daughter’s hand, and led both her kids inside.

 

*              *              *

 

It was a typical afternoon at the karate center. Kids were running around, half in classes, half in the playroom. Stay-at-home moms milled about drinking the complimentary coffee and chatting, and more than a few of them were following Brandon around like lovesick puppies, as he chatted to each parent with forced confidence.

Ava watched him from across the room, as he patted the shoulder of one overweight mom, and then encouraged another to join his cardio kickboxing class.

“Come for free,” he promised her. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it.”

Ava almost felt jealous of all these other women. She knew it was ridiculous – after all, she was married herself, and Brandon was just being friendly.

But for some reason, she wanted him to be friendly to
her
.

But, of course, you need to be careful what you wish for – because the next moment Brandon was wheeling around to Ava and smiling at her disarmingly, those brown eyes flashing above his hooked, broken nose.

“How are you doing, Ava?”

Ava blushed, and then hated herself for it.

“I-I’m fine,” she nodded. “Harley’s got her white belt class, and then Clark was going to come and pick the kids up so I could stay to do cardio kickboxing.”

“Sounds great,” Brandon winked.

And then he was gone – turning around to talk to another mom who’d just wandered in.

Ava blinked. That was
it
?

They’d almost
kissed
the other night. She’d made a wet spot on the couch after she’d gone home that night, thinking about it.

And now Brandon was going to act like
that
? Like
nothing
had happened between them?

She felt a burning emptiness in her stomach, and the irony of the situation was not lost on her.

Ava had prayed to be able to look Brandon in the eye, and for it to be like nothing had ever happened.

And she’d gotten exactly what she’d asked for.

Chapter Eleven

 

Brandon

 

She wasn’t going to even
look
at him?

Brandon wasn’t going to lie. He’d spent all morning dreading seeing Mrs. Cassidy again. He had no idea how Ava was going to behave – whether she was going to come in angry and pissed off at Brandon overstepping the line; or be thirsty for more.

And, instead, she did the one thing he
couldn’t
abide: She
ignored
him.

As if nothing had happened between them, Ava came waltzing in with her two kids, and sat with Lex on her knee while Harley went through her karate forms in her white belt class.

She checked her phone. She chatted to the other moms. She acted as if nothing was different at all. And while that had been exactly what Brandon had prayed would happen; he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt hit him like a katana between the ribs.

But the real pain came later – like somebody was twisting that blade inside him. After white belt class, the bell rang as the door to the karate center swung open and Ava’s husband walked in to collect the kids.

Fuuuuck.

Brandon wasn’t the jealous type. At a bear-like 240lbs, with his own business and a wall stacked with martial arts trophies, there wasn’t much a man could do to intimidate him.

But somehow, Clark Cassidy managed it without even trying.

Ava’s husband was a podgy man with a red face and slight pot- belly. Not fat – just well-fed and poorly exercised.

Thick-rimmed glasses and a reddish-brown ‘fro of hair made him look like your stereotypical nerd – and the Firefly t-shirt and cargo shorts completed the look.

But he swaggered into Brandon’s karate school like he owned the place, and his kids ran and threw their arms around him with cries of ‘daddy!’

Clark kissed Ava wetly on the mouth, and then turned and looked Brandon dead in the eye, offering him his hand.

“How are you doing,
sensei
?” And then he bowed theatrically, which made Brandon squirm with embarrassment.

Brandon had stared down twenty of the top MMA champions in the country over his youthful career – and this was the first time he felt like blinking.

How had this guy landed a girl like Ava?

She was beautiful, and funny, and had a curvy figure that would turn any head. And he was a chubby, goofy nerd who looked like he should be hanging around a comic convention, not a karate center.

For a guy who was used to staring down the competition, and facing off against macho guys with big attitudes and even bigger egos, Brandon was utterly confused by Clark. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

“I’ll see you back home,” Clark kissed Ava again, and led his two kids out into the parking lot. Ava watched them go, and then turned to Brandon and said only the second thing she’d uttered to him that day:

“Ready for cardio kickboxing?”

Brandon looked down at the beautiful housewife, and he could have sworn he saw her eyes flash flirtatiously.

“Oh,” Brandon grinned, “tonight it’ll be cardio kick-your-ass.”

Chapter Twelve

 

Ava

 

When Brandon had promised that the class would be ass-kicking, he wasn’t kidding.

Sixty minutes later, after a brutal hour of kicks, punches and other acrobatic moves, Ava practically flopped onto the vinyl mats, gasping for breath.

She wasn’t the only one. The dozen other moms and students there were gasping for breath, red in the face, and generally happy that the class was over.

“Holy hell, Master Brandon,” one mom complained. “Why so tough on us tonight?”

And Brandon couldn’t help himself. He made a throwaway flirty comment like he always did – “sorry, ladies. Just working out some…
frustration
, if you know what I mean.”

But he was looking straight at Ava when he said it.

And she met his gaze, and for a second, electricity sizzled between then.

Ava’s face turned red. Brandon looked away sharply with a cough. Shaking his head, he hurried picking up the kickboxing gear, and did a thoroughly terrible job of acting casual.

But if any of the other moms had noticed – and Ava would have bet good money they did – none of them said anything about it.

Small talk resumed after everybody got their breath back, and people collected their coats and bags and slowly the ladies filtered out of the class.

Ava hung back.

She knew it was a dumb thing to do. She knew that Brandon ignoring her – acting as if nothing had happened – was
everything
she could have wished for.

But an old saying she’d read suddenly popped into her head, and achingly she acknowledged that it was true:

A woman can endure anything. Anything except indifference.

And Brandon’s indifference was like a slap in the face to her.

So as the last of the other women filtered out, Ava casually strolled to where Brandon was sitting at the reception desk, and asked him cheerfully: “So, how are the books looking?”

Brandon looked a little startled, but smiled as he saw Ava looking down at him. For a second, Ava had a crazy suspicion that maybe his indifference to her had been like hers to him – feigned.

Checking that he and Ava were alone, Brandon looked up at her and admitted, “Not so good.” But then he added cheerfully: “I might have a plan, though.”

“Oh?” Ava took that as an invitation to pull out a chair and sit down behind the reception desk with him. “What sort of plan?”

Brandon opened his mouth to tell her. He was actually excited to do so – in fact, ever since Vinnie’s visit earlier that day, he’d been burning up inside with the need to tell
somebody
about the possibility of stepping back into the octagon.

But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, there was a ‘ding’ as the front door of the karate center swung open.

Brandon and Ava’s heads snapped up. It was 10:15pm by then – long after the karate center was supposed to have closed.

But standing in the doorway was a small, slim woman with long, reddish hair and huge, hazel eyes.

Mia.

Ava recognized her instantly. She was another mom who brought her kids to the karate center.

The difference was that Mia taught a few classes there herself – mostly lower-level cardio kickboxing. Ava had even taken a couple of her classes, on the days Brandon taught Krav Maga.

So, by all accounts, it wasn’t necessarily
weird
that Mia would walk into the karate center, unannounced, long after class had ended.

But the reaction she gave? When she saw Ava sitting there talking to Brandon?
That
was weird.

“Why, hello, Mrs. Cassidy,” Mia purred, after she’d regained her composure from discovering that Brandon wasn’t alone. “What are
you
doing here? Classes are over, right, B?”

Ava narrowed her eyes.

Just like some of the moms in the cardio kickboxing class had no doubt seen the sparks fly between her and Brandon, there was no mistaking the energy in the room at that moment.

Mia, for all her smiles and politeness, was clearly shocked and upset that Ava was sitting there. From the way Brandon had suddenly sat bolt-upright the moment he saw Mia walk in, Ava had a pretty good idea why.

“Good evening, Mrs. Werber,” Ava smiled sweetly. Then she added, a little venomously, “What are you doing here? Classes are over, aren’t they?”

Mia bristled when she heard that.

Both women were smiling at each other, but it was clear they had their hackles raised, like alley cats in heat.

“I just came to ask B something,” Mia growled back, forcing a smile. The way she emphasized Brandon’s nickname was practically a stamp of possession on the young karate instructor. “In fact…” She glowered at Ava. “I assume you’re leaving soon.”

As Ava looked into Mia’s flinty eyes, there was no mistaking the unspoken expectation there – ‘get the fuck out.’

The Italian in Ava snarled, and for a moment she had a mad urge
not
to leave – to sit there and draw out whatever the fuck was up between Mia and Brandon.

But it was late, and she hadn’t seen Clark alone since he’d flown back home from the convention. As much as the
frisson
of drama appealed to her – this wasn’t her circus, and Mia and Brandon certainly weren’t her monkeys.

Looking Mia squarely in the eye, Ava smiled insincerely and rose from her seat.

“You’re right,” she purred venomously. “I’m late.” Turning to Brandon, she reached out and touched the big man’s beefy shoulder possessively. “Tell me about it tomorrow.”

The reaction was perfect. Brandon nodded obliviously, and Ava was delighted to see Mia narrow her eyes, as the new arrival started wondering what the ‘it’ they would be discussing was.

Like a Hollywood movie star walking away from a theatrical explosion, Ava didn’t look back as she left the karate center and headed for her car.

But she did wonder what was up with Mia’s late-night visit – and decided then and there to find out.

BOOK: Bruiser: A Lonely Housewife Embarks on a Passionate Affair with an Alpha Male MMA Fighter
8.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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