Hard to Handle (37 page)

“I was thinking the same thing.” He kissed Jasmine to silence her excitement. “Better. Now let's go find someplace private where you can demonstrate how much you adore me.”

H
ARLEY
paid no attention to anyone in the audience. The cheers of the crowd faded from his mind. He didn't feel the sweat on his body, or the heat from the lights.

Barefoot, wearing only boxers' shorts and fingerless gloves, he stared across the mat at Kinkaid and thought of how many opportunities he'd missed.

He wouldn't miss another one.

The ref asked Kinkaid if he was ready. Shaking with pent-up anticipation and fueled fury, Kinkaid nodded.

He asked Harley, and Harley gave a very small nod.

A bell rang.

Like an enraged bull, Kinkaid shot toward Harley. He roared his intent, his eyes glazed, his chest heaving.

Harley dodged one wild haymaker, turned, blocked a vicious kick, and planted one crushing blow to Kinkaid's chin.

Kinkaid staggered back, tripped on his own feet and went down.

Wasting no time, Harley dropped onto him and followed with another punishing blow. One more.

He pulled back his fist, but seeing Kinkaid's face, he hesitated, giving the ref a chance—and the fight was stopped.

Harley stood.

Confused, his eyes unseeing, Kinkaid tried to get to his knees. He couldn't quite make it. His corner came in, along with the doctor.

A second later Simon was there with Satch, the two of them lifting up Harley as they shouted out in triumph. Dean joined them, cheering and laughing, pounding on Harley as he draped a shirt over him that announced a valuable sponsorship.

It finally hit him, and Harley threw a fist into the air, then grabbed his uncle up close for a sweaty bear hug.

The audience was on their feet, screaming and shouting in approval, when Drew Black sauntered up with a huge grin that Harley returned.

Harley lifted his arms and Drew fastened the belt around his waist. Damn, it felt good. Real good.

A microphone was stuck in his face. For the next few minutes, Harley talked through the fight, what his strategy had been, what mistakes Kinkaid had made, and whether or not he and Kinkaid still held any animosity for each other.

Harley didn't really care about any of that.

When the camera finally moved away and everyone started to go about closing out the show, Harley left the center mat, hopped down to the lower level, and walked into the audience.

He saw Stasia's wide-eyed confusion as he headed her way. The camera crew caught on, and Harley knew he was on television. With every step, fans congratulated him, slapped his back, took pictures galore.

None of it mattered.

Stasia stood up before he reached her.

Gloved hands on his hips, Harley grinned down at her. “I have the belt.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Damn, he loved her. “Now that that's over with, will you marry me?”

Her eyes rounded. Her mouth followed suit. She blinked hard. “Harley!”

He could barely hear her over the cheering audience. He shouted, “Marry me, Anastasia Bradley.”

The crowd went nuts again. The camera zeroed in.

Laughing, crying a little, Stasia nodded. “Yes.”