Hard to Handle (28 page)

Eve said, “Uh-oh.”

“Don't,” Simon whispered to his wife, “ever do anything like that again.”

Dakota looked ready to spit. “Fine. But drag his sorry ass out of here.”

“I planned to, damn it.”

“Well good.”

“Good!”

Harley laughed. They were the funniest married couple he'd ever encountered. If Simon had hair, he would have yanked it out in frustration. And if Dakota had once gone through life afraid, no one seeing her now would ever know it.

“If you two newlyweds could stop scrapping,” Harley said, “maybe we could get the floor cleared of the debris and get back to applauding Jasmine's performance, which I think was pretty spectacular.”

Dean looked over his shoulder and said, “Great. Roger's guards are here.”

As three uniformed men dragged Kinkaid up to his feet, the idiot said, “You should leash that bitch, Sublime.”

Incredulous, Simon roared and landed a nose-crunching blow on Kinkaid before Dean got him subdued again.

Roger threw up his hands. “Could we all please take a breather on the violence?”

Dean, struggling to hold on to Simon, glared at Harley. “You could help.”

But Harley shook his head. “No, I'm not sure I can. I don't want to risk an injury by grappling with Sublime, and if I take Kinkaid apart now, well, he and Dakota already tag teamed him to mush, so it'd hardly be fair. And I'll be damned if I'm going to help the idiot out of here.”

With the support of the guards, Kinkaid wavered on his feet. “You're a fucking pussy, Handleman.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Barber said. “And it takes a real hero to pick a brawl in a public place, huh?”

Even with the blood dripping from his nose, Kinkaid managed a gruesome grin. “How many people are you hiding behind, Handleman? Men, women, fruity musician…got any kids to protect you, too?”

Harley sighed. “Do everyone a favor, Kinkaid, and concentrate on passing your drug tests so there'll actually be a fight, okay? I promise I'll show up, and then you can do your worst.”

Kinkaid struggled against the hands holding him, but it was a half-baked effort at best. Harley figured if Kinkaid really wanted the fight, right here and right now, a dozen of the untrained guards wouldn't be able to hold him back.

But he apparently didn't. He'd only wanted to cause a scene.

Given that most of the bar was now watching in awed silence, Kinkaid had succeeded. The photographer was all over it, and a reporter had a tape recorder out, catching what he could.

No doubt the whole thing would be on the Internet within hours.

Pointing a finger with his right hand and holding his jewels with his left, Kinkaid said to Harley, “That belt is mine. Get used to the idea right now.”

Harley watched as Kinkaid allowed himself to be dragged out. “Moron.”

Barber said, “I don't think he likes you, Harley.” And then he added with a frown, “Was he insinuating that I'm gay?”

“Sounded like.”

Barber snorted.

The women were all aghast at the display of brutality, except for Dakota, who stewed in mulish silence while Simon tried to find the words to tell her how she'd just displeased him.

Dean was pissed. “Can you ban him from the place?” he asked Roger.

“It's already done. If he tries to come in again, I'll have him arrested.”

Harley saw that all the men were bristling, but then, bad sportsmanship did that to honorable fighters. Luckily, men of Kinkaid's ilk were few and far between within the SBC organization.

Suddenly Roger grinned. When everyone looked at him, he looped an arm around Cam and laughed.

“Something funny?” Dean asked. “This kind of brouhaha makes you happy?”

Roger's grin was so wide, his eyes watered. “Cam and I have news. It was almost overshadowed by that jerk, but now that he's gone…” He turned to his wife. “You want to do the honors?”

Dean said, “Do I need to sit down for this?”

“I'm pregnant,” she said to everyone.

Dean grabbed for a chair. “Oh yeah, I definitely need to sit down.”

Eve squealed and launched herself at her friend. While the two women danced in a circle, Roger said to his wife, “Ignore your brother. He's as thrilled as I am.”

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, and he offered a hand to Roger. “Way to go, man.”

Beaming with pride, Roger accepted hearty handshakes from everyone.

“Drinks are on me,” Barber announced. “We've got a lot to celebrate.” And without thinking about it, he pulled Jasmine up for a sound smooch that quickly got out of hand until Jasmine recalled herself and, blushing, ducked away from him.

Laughing, Barber hugged her close to his side and said, “We've got business with the band. Roger, way to go, you stud. Dakota, hell of a shot, hon. Simon, take some deep breaths. Harley…uh, you might want to attend to your date. She's looking a little green around the gills.”

Pulled from the revelry, Harley turned to Stasia.

She just stood there, her mouth pinched shut, her gaze still and her posture frozen.

Damn. He recalled everything she'd just heard, and knew what ailed her.

The reporter butted in. “A few words, Handleman?”

“Not just yet.”

“But you just dodged a fight. Care to give your side of it?”

Shit, shit, shit. Harley knew he had no choice. “I wasn't dodging a fight. Kinkaid was drunk, stupid, or both. I fight for the SBC. I do not brawl in my friend's establishment. If Kinkaid has a beef with me, he only has a few weeks to wait, and then we can settle it the right way. Period.”

“You're taking this fight on short notice after rehabbing an injury. Do you think Kinkaid sees a weakness?”

“Six weeks is more than enough time for me to prepare and I'm currently injury free. If Kinkaid thinks otherwise, he'll have a rude awakening. Like I said, we'll settle this within the time frame the SBC set. That's soon enough for me.”

“So you're not afraid of him?”

“If you think that, you're as dumb as Kinkaid.” Taking Stasia's arm, he said, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have more important things to talk about than a fighter with a short fuse and a lack of class.”

The reporter reluctantly pulled back.

Harley eased Stasia a few feet away from the group, out of range of prying ears. “You okay?”

She gave one brisk nod. Then, still all pinched up, she said, “Hate to tell you, but the reporter isn't done.”

Harley twisted around, saw the reporter talking with spectators, and before he could blink, a camera flashed in his face. “Son-of-a-bitch. I hate the fanfare.”

Turning her back to the camera, Stasia said, “Don't worry about it, Harley. You were…incredible. No one can say otherwise. That other guy came off as a jerk, but you held it together. You were so…”

Harley tipped his head and suggested, “Controlled?”

She hesitated before giving in with a shrug. “Yes.” Her chagrined laugh showed her surprise. “More controlled than I thought any macho guy could be while being so provoked.”

“It's what I keep trying to tell you, honey. Discipline is the name of the game, and all good fighters have it. Too much emotion just blows your game. You need cold deliberation to counter moves, not temper.”

Brows scrunched, she considered what he said. “In a lot of the prefight interviews, I've heard the fighters say terrible things about each other.”

Harley smirked. “Yeah, well, a lot of guys provoke each other with smack. It's entertaining to the fans and it adds to the buildup. But behind the scenes, most of us have trained together at one point or another. All the trash talk is just for show.”

“What I saw tonight—”

“That was different. By coming to a public establishment and pulling family and friends into it, Kinkaid crossed the line.”

“And you aren't upset about it?”

“Upset?” Harley wanted to beat him into the ground; his muscles clenched in involuntary anticipation. “When I get him in the ring, I'll make him eat those words. Bigmouthed bullies always piss me off. I enjoy teaching them a little humility.”

“Oh.” After letting that sink in, she looked off at the crowded floor. Barber and Jasmine again took the stage. Couples gyrated together and the music blared. “I think I should get back to my hotel room now.”

Harley wasn't in the mood to explain himself, but he damned well hated having her think the worst of him. “Don't you want to grill me first?”

“About what?”

It wasn't like Stasia to be coy. That she'd do it now bugged Harley. “You heard what Kinkaid said about me sleeping with Simon's woman. You have to have a million questions on that one.”

She studied his face. “No, not really.”

With a sound of disbelief, Harley crossed his arms over his chest. “Right. It's got you so disgusted that you're ready to cut the night short, but you don't have any questions?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He came closer. “So it doesn't bother you that I slept with Simon's fiancé? That's real big of you, honey.”

She rubbed her forehead, but quickly dropped her hands and gave him an antagonistic look. “Look, Harley, I know there's not a lot you wouldn't do with women. You revel in the whole bad boy rep and I understand why.”

What the hell? What did she think she understood?

“But you're an honorable man, and poaching isn't honorable, so I know that, regardless of what Kinkaid said, you wouldn't have done that. You most certainly wouldn't infringe just to incite another fighter into accepting a challenge.”

“I wouldn't, huh?”

“Of course not. It sounds cowardly—more like something Kinkaid would do.”

Harley ran a hand over his head. Every time he thought he had Anastasia pegged, she pulled the rug out from under him. “Well…you're right.”

“Of course I am.”

Now, rather than feeling forced to explain, Harley found he wanted to. He needed Anastasia to understand. “Long before Dakota was ever in Simon's life, his fiancé at the time came on to me at a bar.”

“Awkward.”

“No kidding. I'd never seen her before, so I didn't know she was with Simon. I did sleep with her, but I did it thinking she was free and clear.”

“Now there's a big oops, huh?”

“That's putting it mildly.” Harley recalled how sick he'd felt when he found out. “Explaining to Simon wasn't something I looked forward to.”

“You approached him face-to-face, didn't you?”

Damn, but she did know him pretty well. “I had to. I wanted Simon to understand that she was the one trying to use me. She had some harebrained idea of making Simon jealous or something.”

Stasia glanced at Dakota, who frowned as she listened to Simon grousing at her. “I can see how that worked out for her.”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “Luckily, Simon realized he wasn't in love with her anyway. Then he met Dakota, and the two of them have been duking it out ever since.”

A look of envy came over Anastasia's face. “They're very much in love.”

“Looks like.” Harley studied her. “So you think you know me pretty well, huh?”

“Well enough to ignore outrageous accusations, especially when they come from someone like Kinkaid. Add to that Dakota's reaction, and I figured it was all hot air.”

The timing wasn't right for Harley to investigate the feelings too much, but it meant a lot that Stasia trusted him, that she believed in his honor. “I appreciate that.”

She met his gaze. “And well enough to know when to cut my losses.”

A spark of alarm shot through him. “What does that mean?”

She inhaled slowly. “You've got your title fight, Harley. I know how important that is to you, and thanks to Dakota, I understand enough about the sport to know you're going to be real busy training for the next few weeks. The last thing I want is to get in your way.”

“You think I'd let you?”

That took her back, and she shrugged. “You won't let me counsel you, and I won't sleep with you, so there's no point in me hanging around any longer, is there?”

The alarm escalated. He crowded closer to her. “I can think of a good reason for you to stay.”

A glimmer of hope lit her brown eyes. “What is it?”

Another flash went off, closer this time. Harley turned to tell the photographer to back off, and found Gloria standing beside him, chatting him up.

Well hell.

Would she tell everyone about his sexual preferences?

Probably.