She gave a sharp nod.

Bullshit. "Does that mean you've told my dad the truth?"

Tears glistened in her eyes. "I love him."

Not for a second did he buy into the weepy desperation. "You aren't capable of love."

Pretending he hadn't spoken, she insisted, "I love him and I want my marriage to work."

"You want the perks of what he gives you."

She actually stomped one foot in temper. "You could repair your relationship without this ever having to come up again!"

"Dream on." There were times when he still heard the cold fury in his father's voice during that awful time. Disgust. Disappointment. Blame. He'd made one mistake, and it had irrevocably changed his life. "Dad is never going to forgive what you made him believe."

Trying a new tact, she pleaded, "Denver," and in a rush, stepped up to him again, this time daring to put her hands on him.

Rage all but blinded him. He clasped her wrists, meaning to toss her hands away from him-and just then Cherry and Armie dashed in through the front doors, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

They fell against each other laughing, a puddle forming around their feet.

After saying something to her, Armie struggled with an umbrella that had gone inside out.

Grinning, Cherry pushed hair from her face and removed a sodden windbreaker.

Denver's eyes flared.

A long skirt was glued to her hips and thighs, and her pink shirt stuck to her breasts like a second skin, showing the darker bra beneath. Thanks to the bra, nothing actually showed through, but given her rack and how everyone looked at her, that didn't matter.

Irritation-at the situation with Carver, the way Cherry cut him out, Pamela's appearance and now this-all coalesced into a red-hot fury.

"Denver?"

Dismissing Pamela and her small plea, he set her aside and strode purposefully toward the door.

"Denver, wait!"

He barely heard Pamela with the rush of his heartbeat sounding in his ears.

With all eyes on Cherry, no one else noticed his approach. He watched as Armie tried to stuff her back into the windbreaker.

As she laughingly smacked his arm.

As drips of rainwater fell from her hair to slowly track over her boobs and into her cleavage.

Two steps from them, he growled, "What the fuck is this?"

Stunned, Cherry pulled up short, her smile disappearing in the face of his obvious anger.

Stepping in front of Cherry-shielding her from him?-Armie held up both hands. "She's oblivious, dude. Take a breath."

"You brought her here?" His gaze transferred to Cherry, and he easily pushed Armie to the side. "Looking like that?"

Hurt, Cherry pokered up just as she had while talking to Carver. Keeping her voice low in a laughable bid for privacy, she whispered, "You told me to come here!"

Uncaring that the entire rec center watched, he leaned into her, jaw muscles knotted and his irritability spiking. "Jesus, Cherry, you look naked."

"What are you talking about?" Hastily she peeked down at herself, plucking at the sodden material of her skirt.

He narrowed his gaze on her jutting nipples.

That drew her attention there and she gasped, slapping her arms around herself.

Reaching to his back, Denver grabbed a fistful of his shirt and in one jerk stripped it off over his head.

Cherry snatched it from him before he could offer it, holding it in front of her chest.

"Put it on," Denver told her.

She went from embarrassment to a flash fire of anger. "Are you ordering me?" she asked, incredulous over the possibility.

For a single second Denver thought she might throw the shirt back in his face. He braced himself- And Armie stepped up next to her, snarling to Denver, "Ass." Then to Cherry, "Jealousy makes guys nuts, honey. Ignore him."

Going combustible all over again, Denver knotted up from the soles of his feet to the top of his ears. "You-"

"Dating groupies again?"

Ah, hell. He'd forgotten all about Pamela.

Both Armie and Cherry leaned to look behind him, Armie with male interest, Cherry going red in the face, the shirt clutched tight in front of her body.

Fed up, Denver faced his stepmother. "Later, Pamela."

Ignoring him, she smiled at Armie. "Introduce me."

Armie cocked his head to the side, giving her a thorough once-over.

On the ragged edge, polite manners well out of reach, Denver growled, "I'm busy."

Of course, that didn't stop Pamela. She stretched out a hand. "I'm Pamela, Denver's stepmother."

Cherry's mouth dropped.

Armie adjusted from interested to cold but polite civility, saying, "Nice to meet you, ma'am." After the briefest possible handshake, he said to Denver, "I'll be in back. We need to talk."

Glowing with mortification, Cherry tried to drum up a smile. "Hello. Nice to meet you. Clearly I got caught in the rain and I didn't realize-"

To cut off her groveling, Denver slung an arm around her. "Pamela was just leaving."

Like the cunning bitch he knew her to be, Pamela showed her teeth in a "got you" grin and spoke only to Cherry. "So nice to meet you...Cherry, is it?"

"Yes."

"Such an unconventional name." Not said as a compliment. "You and Denver are dating?"

She licked her lips. "We're..."

When Cherry looked at him with so much uncertainty, he wanted to rip through the concrete walls. "Not your business, Pamela."

"Denver!" Cherry tried to free herself, but he didn't let her. It sucked, but he needed her at the moment. To apologize for that, he kissed her forehead.

Stymied, Cherry stared up at him, then at Pamela.

Pamela watched with shrewd speculation. "Never mind him, Cherry. I understand Denver and his...ways."

What was that supposed to mean?

Cherry must've wondered the same thing because she quit resisting him and instead leaned into him. "What ways would that be, Ms. Lewis?"

"Call me Pamela, please."

"All right."

Wow. Denver stared down at Cherry in awe. She was always so sweet, occasionally defensive, but never curt. Now, though, her tone held as much cold bite as Pamela's.

"Despite Denver's surliness, it's clear the two of you are...involved? So I'll just include you in my invitation. You see, my husband's birthday is coming up and I know Denver's dad would not only love to see him again, but he'd enjoy meeting you, as well."

"I see." Cherry put her shoulders back, her little nose in the air. "Has Denver accepted the invitation?"

Pamela's smile slipped. "Not precisely."

"Then I certainly can't accept." She snuggled closer under his arm. "But he and I will talk about it, and if necessary, he can get in touch with you."

Making her mouth smile seemed to strain her, but Pamela managed it. "Thank you." She peered out the window at the blowing rain. "Nasty weather."

"As I said, it caught me," Cherry explained, and now she stepped away from Denver. "I was halfway across the parking lot when the downpour started and of course I'd forgotten my umbrella."

Critical, Pamela said, "But you did have that handsome young man to assist you."

Crossing his arms, Denver waited to see how Cherry would handle Pamela's veiled accusation.

She surprised him by smiling, the first mean smile he'd ever seen from her. "Yes, he's a very good friend of Denver's and so he gave me a lift. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go change."

"You keep clothes at a gym?"

"No, but one of Denver's good friends will loan me something." She looked at Pamela with a mix of loathing and pity. "It was nice meeting you." Her gaze flashed over to Denver, but only for a split second before she again focused on Pamela. "Quite...educational."

Denver watched as she exited the confrontation, drenched, makeup destroyed, holding his shirt in front of her. She didn't look back, and she kept her shoulders squared, her chin lifted.

He realized he was grinning.

"Very odd, Denver."

"Yeah. She's something." He gave Pamela a mock salute. "Later."

"Wait."

His long sigh made his impatience plain.

"Will you attend?"

"Like Cherry told you, we'll talk about it." And suddenly he meant it.

Just last night he'd made her a promise to share everything with her, get her thoughts on problems.

Pamela was a problem. The estrangement from his dad was a problem.

His jealousy was the biggest problem.

Starting right now, he'd keep his promise-and hope she'd forgive him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

NOW WEARING DENVER'S SHIRT, Cherry poked her nose into the locker room. It fascinated her, this all-male domain. The rec center got some female members, but not many, not on the scale of the fighters, so while they had a small changing room that included two toilets and sinks with some hooks on the wall, they didn't have this elaborate setup, an expanse of lockers, benches, open showers...

Did men have no modesty at all? If it weren't for the wall of lockers, she'd be able to see all the showers. Into the showers. Anyone who might be naked in the shower.

She heard water running, and sucked in a breath. It almost made her cough, but she fended it off in favor of another deep breath.

The room smelled good. Like clean male sweat, aftershave and soap.

The water shut off and she decided it might be prudent to announce herself.

Sounding like a strangled frog, she called out, "Yoo-hoo?"

A static moment of silence preceded a softly muttered curse, then she heard the sound of big feet padding across a wet concrete floor.

Using a towel to dry his naked chest, another towel around his hips, Armie poked his head around the corner. His eyes widened at the sight of her standing there just inside the doorway. "Cherry?"

"Hi."

Dumbfounded, he looked around her, beyond her, saw she'd come on her own, and gave a slight frown. "This is the locker room, hon."