One of the boys jumped up, helping to haul Denver back to his feet so he could try the escape. As carefully as he had with Yvette, Denver put the kid in the choke.

Cannon's long exhalation brought Armie back around.

"You, my man, are in a very bad way."

"Yeah," Cannon agreed. "I am."

"So go get laid already."

It shocked him stupid when Cannon said, "Working on it," and then with frustration, "but she needs some time."

"Why?"

He rocked a shoulder. "She just lost her grandfather, moved, hasn't seen me in years."

For the women Armie knew, none of that would matter. s.e.x would be the cure, the relief, the escape, always. But he could tell Yvette was a different kind of lady.

Different from what he preferred.

Different to how Cannon felt about her.

She was the kind Armie avoided. "All right. So give her some time." At Cannon's scowl, he asked, "Or is that a problem?"

"She has some guy who keeps calling her."

Compet.i.tion? Things were getting interesting. "Who?" He'd put his money on Cannon every time.

"She says her ex."

Maybe not so interesting. "He's around?"

Shaking his head, Cannon said, "In California."

Armie just stared at him.

Cannon stared back.

Yeah, now would be a really s.h.i.tty time to laugh. Might even get him decked. So instead Armie cleared his throat. "If he's that far away, I don't see how-"

"I don't want her attention divided." Cannon opened and closed his fists in frustration. Voice going low, almost tortured, he said, "I want her one hundred percent focused on me."

"Can I offer a suggestion?"

Cannon stewed, worked his jaw and finally said with deceptive calm, "Let's hear it."

"First, bring it down a notch. Dude, you are seriously heaving like a caveman and it's just not like you. It's making me uneasy, and you don't want to f.u.c.k me. I can only imagine how the little lady feels."

Hands again locking into ma.s.sive fists, Cannon stewed some more.

Biting back a fat grin, Armie gave some-what he considered sound-advice. "Second, why not use the time she needs to win her over? You're in the same house, right? So there'll be a lot of alone time. Rein yourself in, take advantage of proximity and she'll be the one sinking. Then you can just go down with her instead of drowning alone."

"Your metaphors are getting more confusing by the minute."

Armie rubbed his chin and tried to clarify. "It's oldschool, I know, but you might try seducing her. You'll have time and opportunity. That's all I'm saying."

Cannon transferred his gaze back to the lady. She was busy oohing over a kid's barely there biceps, then listening intently as one of the older boys told her a joke. She laughed, ruffled his hair, and Cannon clenched all over.

"I like her," Armie stated. He clapped Cannon on the back. "Get it together, do your thing, be your usual irresistible self and like all the other ladies, she'll be begging for it in no time."

"G.o.d, I hope so," Cannon told him quietly. "Because I'm not sure how long I can wait."

He walked off to collect Yvette, so he didn't see Armie's surprise.

Huh. Cannon rarely talked about s.e.x. The most the b.a.s.t.a.r.d ever did was smile when asked. So Yvette was unique.

Nice.

He'd spread the word around. It wouldn't stop any of the guys from egging Cannon on when they could, but they'd also go out of their way to a.s.sist whenever and wherever possible.

Having Cannon back in town for an extended time would be even more rewarding than he'd first a.s.sumed.

Now, if he could just resolve his own issues...

CHAPTER SEVEN.

w hile Yvette took in all the improvements at the rec center, Cannon went over things in his head.

I can't, I'm sorry.

Over and over, Cannon heard those softly whispered words. He didn't buy it. Can't? What the h.e.l.l did that mean? She could. She most definitely would.

With him.

But as Armie had suggested, he probably needed to cool it just a bit before he spooked her too much.

They'd agreed-her with relief, him under duress- to discuss her odd statement more later. She claimed to be overwhelmed with all the changes. He could buy that.

But when she kissed him, the way she looked at him, he knew they were on the same page.

For some reason, she didn't want to be. For some reason, she wanted to deny them both.

Twice more her ex had contacted her. Once again in text, once by a call that she let go to voice mail. The idea that she might be hung up on some other man made him more than a little nuts.

h.e.l.l, he didn't like seeing Denver touch her, even in jest. He definitely didn't want to stew on some bozo she cared about getting busy with her.

Turning his head toward his shoulder, Cannon cracked his neck. So much strain had crawled in that his muscles were knotting.

Before coming to the rec center, they'd stopped by Rowdy's for lunch. Luckily, it was a lighter crowd and the women were mostly moms with their kids, or women with their boyfriends. Yvette had relaxed, chatting with Rowdy and Avery, praising them on the bar, answering questions about her life in California.

He wanted to get her alone, but for now, with her hands-off policy, being out and about was safer.

"This place was great when I saw it last, but now it's amazing."

"Thanks." He, too, looked around, trying to see it as she would. Most of the fighters came in the morning and early evening, which left the afternoon free for the neighborhood kids and the after-school crowd. "Armie's made a lot of improvements."

She lightly elbowed him. "Don't be modest. He said most of the equipment came from endors.e.m.e.nts you got."

True enough, but not the point. "He puts the stuff to good use."

They headed for the break room together. On the way they pa.s.sed Armie, who greeted a high school boy who'd just come in, dressed for a workout. "What's he doing now?"

"He works with some of the wrestlers to help them with their techniques and to show them how wrestling can be put to good use in the SBC."

"Is it the same as grappling?"

"In some ways. Taking a shot, sprawling to avoid one. Doing a switch or running a half, switching to a double leg. A crotch lift, or a suplex..." When she gave him a blank look, he smiled. "Sorry."

"It's interesting-when I understand."

"Wrestling is a great tool to bring to MMA. But the point of wrestling is to get your opponent on his back. A lot of wrestlers naturally panic when that happens. But for real compet.i.tion in the SBC, being on your back is just another offensive position. There are a lot of submissions that can be done from your back." Being casual, Cannon smoothed her hair, then tucked it back behind her ear. He felt the stillness that settled over her, but pretended not to. "Armie works with the guys to show them how to transition wrestling moves into MMA skills."

She cleared her throat, took a breath and focused again on Armie. "How many hours a day does he spend here?"

"More than he should." As they stepped into the break room, Cannon put a hand to the small of her back and even that, the touch of his palm to her, through clothes, he felt everywhere. "He likes the kids a lot."

"Funny." She took a seat. "He said the same about you."

"Yeah." If he could, Cannon knew he would save every single child in the neighborhood. Save them from poverty, from neglect, from abuse.

From the bullies who gravitated to gangs and the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who peddled drugs.

He wasn't a superhero, so instead, he did what he could. Luckily, guys like Armie carried more than a full load of responsibility. Denver, Stack, Miles, Gage...they all lent a hand.

Cannon got them both a c.o.ke. "You were pretty good with the boys."

"I love kids." She took a sip, turned the can, traced a finger through the condensation. "When I was in school, I used to think about being a teacher."

"Yeah?" He settled back in his seat, content to watch her.

"After everything that happened, though..."

He didn't press her, didn't try to fill the silence. The drone of voices, of strikes against the heavy bag and music from a CD, drifted in around them.

Her gaze shied away from his. He didn't mind. He enjoyed just looking at her.

Quietly, she explained, "What happened changed my plans a lot."

True. But she was here now. With any luck, she'd stay. "The important thing is that you don't let it change you."

She gave a mirthless laugh that she quickly stifled.

Again, Cannon just waited.

"What will your routine be while you're here?"

Avoidance? He'd let her get away with that-for now.

He shrugged. His routine would accommodate hers, but she probably didn't want to hear that. "I was thinking I'd visit tonight with the guys." Visiting being their excuse to scope out the neighborhood, to make sure everything remained right and tight in their own little corner of the world.

"I thought you said you usually jog really early in the morning."

"Twice a day, every day. It's part of what I do to stay in shape. But I won't be that late." And in case she thought to dodge him again, he added, "And I'm always an early riser, no matter how late I stay up."

Denver walked in, saw them and stalled. "Hey. Sorry." He started to backpedal.

"It's fine," Cannon told him. "We won't be much longer."

Still, Denver crept around as if he was afraid of waking the dead. Carrying a white towel, he wore snug shorts and nothing else. Sweat dampened his chest and his long hair. The activity had left his face flushed. He inched quietly toward the water machine.

Cannon met Yvette's gaze, and they both grinned.

He and Denver shared a similar height, but Denver had twenty pounds on him, making him a heavyweight instead of a light heavyweight. "I was just telling Yvette that we'll get together tonight."

Relaxing a little now that he'd been included, Denver nodded. "Sounds good to me. Say nine or so? Meet out front of Rowdy's?"

"That works. Ask around and see who wants to join us."

"Gage is out." Denver upended a bottle of water and guzzled down half of it. When he finished, he mopped his face with the towel again. "He and Harper are burning up the sheets at his place. Making up for lost time or something, Harper told me."

Cannon noticed how Yvette tried not to stare. But again and again, her gaze went over Denver. He didn't see the heat of interest in her eyes, just the gawking of a woman surprised to be near a mostly naked man with muscles pumped from a workout.

He supposed if a woman stood in front of him dressed the same, it'd distract him, too.

"Sounds like Harper."

"They're so nauseating about it, you'd think they were newlyweds."

To Yvette, Cannon explained, "Gage was supposed to fight in j.a.pan, too, but he took an elbow to the eye in practice and after too d.a.m.n many st.i.tches he was medically ineligible to partic.i.p.ate."

"Wow," Yvette said with sympathy. "What a letdown that had to have been for him."

"Sounds like Harper is helping him get over it."