Hard to Handle (14 page)

“Everything okay?” Harley asked, and then waited to hear her ask about seeing him again, if he'd call, if he'd visit her…

“Everything's fine. But I know this is my last chance to say good-bye to you.”

Did she think he planned to sneak away without another word? Not a flattering thought. “I'll see you in town before I head out.”

She nodded. “I suppose. But there's no place there for me to speak privately with you. I wanted to…well…” She ducked her face, but quickly met his gaze again. “I'd have preferred looking a little better for this, but it can't be helped. So…”

Confused, Harley studied her, but said nothing.

A smile slipped over her mouth and she shrugged, then went on tiptoe, wrapped her arms around him, and plastered her mouth to his.

Hell yeah.

Harley didn't mean to, but his arms went around her waist and he crushed her close.

He hadn't realized how badly he wanted to taste her again until her mouth touched his. Then he knew he was starving for her.

What a kiss it turned out to be—hot, deep, a prelude to what could follow, if only they had time and privacy enough to go where that kiss naturally led.

But they weren't alone. His uncle and Barber waited in the other room. The tow truck driver waited on him, likely with plenty more work to do today.

Lingering would only encourage her—and him.

But Harley didn't stop the kiss. He meant to. He kept telling himself that it was enough, to pull away, to get going on all he had planned for the day—but he couldn't.

Anastasia's small, cool hands went to his face; she nipped his bottom lip, kissed his chin, then
she
ended the kiss and hugged him fiercely. “Good-bye, Harley.”

Damn.
Why did she have to make it sound as final as he'd meant it to be?

He put his chin to the top of her head. “You're sure you're okay?”

“I'm terrific.”

Now why did
that
annoy him? Maybe because he was the one with the parting pangs this time. Damn it, he knew he'd miss her, and selfish as it seemed, he wanted her to miss him, too.

“Good.”

She leaned back, smoothed her hands down his shirt, and smiled. “You are truly a remarkable man, Harley Handleman. I mean that.”

“Spoken like a woman satisfied.”

“True.” She laughed, but quickly sobered. Her gaze searched his. “I'll be watching all your future fights and cheering you on, but I already know you're going to excel. You have enough drive and dedication for ten men.”

“We'll see.”

She patted his chest, then dropped her hands. “I've held you up enough. You need to get going. It just didn't seem right to simply say good-bye.”

“No.” In fact, saying good-bye at all didn't feel right.

“Thank you for everything.”

Harley frowned. “I didn't do anything.”

She laughed. “Thank you for being modest, too.” Hooking her arm through his, she said, “All right, then, let's go.”

Barber and Satch had moved closer to the wall separating them, and they didn't even try to deny eavesdropping, the dumbasses.

The moment Anastasia saw them, she went to Barber. “Thanks for waiting. I'm ready now if you are.”

With a glint in his eyes, Barber opened his mouth—and Harley said, “He'll be right with you.”

Satch, who never missed a thing, told her, “Come on with me, Anastasia. We can chat while Harley reads Barber the rules.”

“Rules?”

Satch winked. “There're always rules.”

Ready to strangle his uncle, Harley waited impatiently while he led Anastasia away, and then he turned on Barber.

Barber said quickly, “There are rules?”

“Yeah, 'fraid so.” Keeping all humor from his tone, Harley said, “Watch her closely, but keep your hands to yourself.”

Grinning, Barber tugged on his earring. “So it's like that, huh?”

“No, it's not. But it's not open territory either. Not for you.”

Trying not to laugh, Barber asked, “What's wrong with me?”

“I know where to find you.”

“Ah. Good point.” The laugh won out, and Barber, never knowing when to shut up, said, “I'll pretend the two of you are hitched. How's that?”

Far as Harley knew, the danger wasn't over yet, and until he knew the local authorities were on it, he didn't want her out of Barber's sight. He needed to make sure that Anastasia was all right before he left. “Pretend any damn thing you want if it means you'll keep her safe without getting too familiar.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“She might want you to take her by her cabin so she can grab some stuff.”

“I'll make the offer.”

Harley nodded. “Don't let her linger, and be on your guard. Those idiots might still be hanging around. It'll be safer in town.”

“I'll keep an eye out.”

“After I get my Jeep back on the road, I'll see to her truck, then I have a quick errand to run. I won't be long, though.”

“I'll feed her breakfast while we wait for you.” Barber grinned again. “Wanna kiss her good-bye one more time before I leave with her?”

“No.” And with that, Harley walked through the garage, out the door, and up the snowy yard to the road where the tow truck driver waited.

He didn't look back.

It didn't take too long to get his Jeep on the road. Once that was accomplished, he made sure it would run, and then spent a few more minutes seeing that Anastasia's truck got safely towed to the garage where Ned could work on it. He tried to look at her brake lines, but so much snow and ice stuck to the undercarriage, he couldn't see shit.

He wouldn't be satisfied until he had all the facts, but for now, there was nothing he could do.

Maybe that explained his reluctance to leave her.

Sitting beside him in the front seat of the Jeep, Satch asked, “You're convinced someone damaged the lady's truck on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“That and the attack later were related?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hmmm.” Satch mulled things over in his mind. “I'm glad your Jeep wasn't damaged, but if her brakes are gone, then she's out of commission, unless you take the time to get it fixed before we head out.”

It was tempting, but Harley didn't want to mislead her about his intentions. “That could take a while, and Anastasia isn't the sort who'd want someone else in her business anyway.”

“Independent, huh?”

Harley shrugged. She was, but no more so than most women. Being an old-fashioned guy, Satch didn't realize that women today were well equipped to handle their business on their own. “The driver needed payment up front, and I wanted to make sure her truck made it to the garage before he went off to a dozen other calls, thanks to the weather.”

“So you paid him?”

“It wasn't that much.” He glanced at his uncle. “But that's going to piss her off enough without me overstepping myself further.”

Satch grinned. “But by the time she finds out, there won't be anything she can do about it.”

Unless she tracked down his address somehow, she wouldn't know where to send repayment. Harley wondered if she'd go so far as to search him out.

Did he want her to?

No. It was better that they just made a clean break of it.

Of course, that wasn't entirely in his hands. As an SBC fighter, he wasn't all that anonymous. Any number of trainers, fighters, sponsors, or friends could give her information on him that'd lead her right to his front door. It had happened with groupies, and with the media.

“I'll talk to Ned before we leave,” Harley added. “He's the guy who owns the garage.” He wanted to explain to Ned why they'd broken in, and he wanted to have a contact who could keep him apprised of any other trouble Anastasia might have.

“That's it?”

Again, Harley shrugged. “Without knowing who attacked us last night, there's not much else I can do.”

“I don't like to think of that little lady here all by herself with that kind of trouble around.”

“Me either. But because her cabin is pretty secluded, Anastasia had already planned to ride with me to a motel along the interstate. She'll spend the night while she gets things in order. Until then, Barber will see that no one bothers her.”

Satch snorted over that. “He might see to that and more.”

“Not with Anastasia, he won't.” As the interior of the Jeep warmed, Harley felt his muscles relaxing. “Even if Barber gave it his best shot, Anastasia's not that kind of woman.”

“You know her that well?”

A chunk of frozen snow slid from the roof, down the windshield, and off the hood. “I know her well enough.”

“You warned Barber away from her?”

“Not that it was necessary, but yeah, I did.” This was one of those times when Harley wished his uncle would show a little more respect for his privacy. “I didn't want her hassled, that's all. She's been through enough.”

Satch sized him up in one long look. “Got it.”

Annoyed now, Harley said, “Before you ask me, no, I'm not involved with her.” Not much anyway. But that last kiss…

“You're sure?”

“Anastasia Bradley isn't my type.” Not that it seemed to matter when he got too close to her. He looked his uncle in the eyes and said, “You've got nothing to worry about.”

“Who's worrying? I just asked.” Satch reached over to clap Harley on the shoulder. “I know your head's in the sport, where it needs to be. Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Satch looked out the window at the bright morning sunshine. “Soon as we get you home, I'll set up some stuff. The SBC is real interested in getting some candid shots of you with ladies.”

Harley made a sound of disgust.

“Don't act like it'll be a hardship. You're always with one woman or another. For once it's going to benefit your career.”

“That's bullshit. Who cares about my social life?”

“Fans do, that's who. I told you, the SBC is jacking up their female demographics with personal stuff on the fighters. Google it, and you'll see what I mean.”

“I don't believe this.”

“Start believing. The powers that be want the world to know what a ladies' man you are.”

“No.”
Hell
no.

“It'll be a great exposé. And Harley, they only do that for the guys they think will be champion. This is their way of ensuring you get more viewers when you're on the fight card.”

“More like they want to ensure their bottom line.”

“Which is good for you, too. Just think about it. Women'll be drawn to your charisma and men will envy you. It's a win-win deal.”

“I said no, Uncle Satch.” Firm, Harley again gave his uncle a direct look. “My personal life is going to remain personal. I'll gladly do publicity shots and pose with whoever you want. But I'll be damned if I want some camera freak following me around all the damn time.”

“Simon Evans did it, and so did Havoc.”

Hard to imagine, but that didn't change things for him. “No.”

“You've got nothing to hide. So you have a healthy appetite and the ladies enjoy it. So what?” Grinning, Satch slugged Harley in the shoulder. “When we throw in some background on you, you're going to be a modern-day hero.”

Harley's head started to throb. “No is no, Satch. It's not up for discussion.”

“But—”

“Actually,” Harley interrupted, ready to put an end to the discussion in the most expedient way possible, “now that I'll be training, I don't plan to be with any women.”

“You're insane.”

Harley almost laughed. Satch, like most men, couldn't fathom the idea of life without sex. Before today, Harley couldn't have either, not for long, anyway. But at the moment, he couldn't think of a woman who appealed to him except Anastasia, and she was out of the question.

Abstaining for a short time wouldn't be a hardship.

“Like I keep telling you, Uncle Satch, I'm dedicated.”

His uncle looked so shocked, Harley had to look away.

In a quick turnaround typical of Satch's gambits when things didn't go his way, he asked, “So what does Anastasia do? How's she going to get back and forth to work with her truck out of commission?”

“She's not working right now.”

“Huh. I didn't figure her for the type to be unemployed.”