"I like Cherry, too."

"Apparently everyone does, especially Denver."

It'd be nice to have some girlfriends. "The three of us might go shopping later in the week."

"Sounds good." He checked the rearview mirror again, then said, "We could invite everyone over one night, too, if you want."

Their own little party. "I'd enjoy that." In so many subtle ways, Cannon made her feel a part of his life.

He pulled up in front of the rec center. "We'll be here for a while. If you get bored or need to leave, let me know first, okay?"

"I won't." Then she rethought that. "As long as I'm not in the way..."

Leaning over, Cannon caught her nape and pulled her in for a lingering kiss. "You won't be."

On his way in, Stack knocked on the driver's window. "Get a room."

Grinning, Cannon said, "Ignore him. He's green with envy."

After they went in, Yvette put up with some teasing, but it was all good-natured and she didn't mind at all.

The guys were all so different in some ways, but so very much alike in others.

They enjoyed trying to make her blush.

As Cannon had said, they were at the rec center through dinner. Yvette relished getting to know more about Cannon's world. He was great with the kids. All the guys were, but Cannon was the best-known fighter there and the boys idolized him.

The crowd changed in the late afternoon, with older boys coming in, more men who paid for training, a few women. Cannon stayed busy with individual coaching first, then by leading a cla.s.s. In between that he talked with fans, took photos, signed a few autographs and checked with her often, no matter how many times she a.s.sured him she was fine.

She loved watching him, seeing his strength mixed with gentleness. The fluid way his muscled body moved, whether he was demonstrating for the older boys or tussling with the younger. When he laughed, her heart beat harder and emotion swelled inside her.

She stood off to the side now, talking with the grandparents of two of the boys. They raved about Cannon, not just about how he'd influenced their son in a positive way but how he'd helped with their business, successfully and peacefully getting drug peddlers moved away from their corner.

She had no real rights, but pride nearly took away her breath.

She was lost in thoughts of Cannon, of his overwhelming presence, when from behind her a thick male voice whispered, "h.e.l.lo, Yvette."

Shock sent tension down her spine, and she jerked around to see Heath standing there. He smiled, a sheepish, happy smile, not at all threatening-but d.a.m.n him, she knew better.

He'd actually done it, actually followed her.

From California.

Reaching out, he touched her hair with near reverence, smoothing a long tendril behind her ear. "Cat got your tongue?"

The older couple moved away, giving them privacy, and when they did Heath enveloped her, hugging her despite her lack of welcome.

She had to get it together. Right now. "Heath." Hands on his shoulders, she levered herself away.

With obvious reluctance, he let her put distance between them.

Yvette took a step back. Heath Nordan in no way resembled a stalker creep. At six feet tall, his athletic body visible beneath an expensive polo shirt and pleated slacks, his dark hair neatly trimmed and his smile bright with welcome, he fit right in with the other men at the rec center.

Big, handsome, muscular. Happy.

To see her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

Y vette shook her head to clear it. She didn't bother hiding her frustration. "What in the world are you doing here?"

As if it should have been obvious, he said, "I came to see you."

Oh, Lord. She refused to look back for Cannon. She knew if she did, if he met her gaze, he'd get dragged into her personal drama.

Yvette put a hand on Heath's arm, urging him toward the opposite side of the gym, and hopefully out of view of the fighters. "When did you get here?"

"Early this morning."

So he could have been the one to damage Cannon's tires. Petty destruction was certainly his speed.

Now some distance away, on the other side of the registration area, she again moved a few feet from him. "How'd you find me?"

He laughed, and the fact that his laugh sounded so normal, merely amused instead of insane, didn't rea.s.sure her.

"It wasn't hard." Again, he reached out to touch her, but Yvette dodged him, earning a slight frown. Showing his disappointment in her, he dropped his hand. "You're hanging out with a famous fighter, who hangs out here." He rolled one shoulder. "Didn't take a sleuth to figure out you'd be here."

But how did he know she'd be here now? The idea of him maybe watching her, following her, was so repugnant that she wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Say something," he told her, teasing, expectant.

She tried to smooth out her frown but couldn't, and that made him frown. "Heath-"

"Don't tell me to go."

Ah. There was that unbalanced voice she'd been waiting for. It reeked of demand and desperation, underlaid with simmering rage.

"That's what you have to do and you know it. You have to go."

He reached out again, and this time dodging him did her no good. He locked that big, hard hand on her upper arm and, oh, G.o.d, she felt it-his determination. His intent.

Too tight. Unbreakable.

He'd never before manhandled her. But then again, he'd had a series of nasty texts to build him up to this point.

With one small tug, he brought her closer so that she almost b.u.mped into him. "I've missed you," he insisted, as if she should be thrilled to hear it. "I've missed us."

Straining away, Yvette stated, "There is no us." She tried to wiggle free, but he only clamped down harder until she winced.

"Don't say that." His gaze went a little wild. "Don't ever say that. You know you don't mean it."

If she weren't in such a public place, she'd give in to the urge to fight. One yell and men would be there to help her, Cannon at the front.

She knew that, and knowing it helped calm her.

Right now, she mostly wanted to avoid a scene. She'd been at the forefront of too much ugly news already. "Listen to me, Heath..."

"There you are." Wearing only boxing shorts and fingerless gloves, his blond hair spiky with sweat, Armie invaded their s.p.a.ce.

Did the man live at the rec center?

He had his dark gaze zeroed in on Heath, and as he looked him over, his brows lifted.

"Armie," she said with relief. "Hi."

"Hi, Yvette," he said in that teasing way she'd already grown accustomed to. Still with one brow quirked, he mused, "You got a type, don't you, doll? Big, dark..." He shook his head. "For some reason, I expected him to be different. Softer, shorter. Dopier looking."

So Cannon had told Armie about Heath?

"Who are you?" Heath demanded. "Another boyfriend?"

"Naw. I'm just the guy who's going to break a few of your limbs if you don't turn her loose real quick."

Not a single ounce of animus could be heard in his tone. In fact, Armie might have been discussing the weather.

"You're not dating her?"

"Nope." He took a drink from his water bottle. "You have to the count of three, my man. One, two-"

To her surprise, Heath let her go.

As if he'd expected no less, Armie took another drink.

Yvette resisted the urge to rub her arm, unwilling to do anything that might set Armie off. Sidling closer to him, she said in a low voice, "Time for you to go, Heath."

"I came all this way to see you. I'm not leaving until we talk."

Armie looked at her. "You interested in talking to Slick? Or should I boot his a.s.s to the curb?"

d.a.m.n it. Armie was spoiling for a fight, and that'd only draw the attention of everyone in the place.

"Take it easy, Armie. Please. I'd as soon avoid causing a scene if I can, okay?"

He laughed. "Now, honey, you gotta know I don't mind a scene."

Mouth tight, she said, "You might not, but I do."

"So I can't rough him up?"

Heath worked his jaw. "I'm allowed to be here. It's a public place."

"Not really, no," Armie told him.

Quickly, Yvette interrupted. "If you have something to say, Heath, say it and then get out." If Armie told him that Cannon owned the rec center, it just might become the victim of vandalism. She couldn't bear bringing more trouble to him.

She'd done enough of that already.

Heath bristled, Armie smirked at him and she racked her brain to find a way to defuse things without having Heath misconstrue her intentions.

Suddenly an arm slipped around her and Cannon's familiar heat enveloped her. In front of G.o.d and Heath and everyone else, he tipped up her chin and put his mouth to hers. He didn't prolong things, but neither was it a simple peck.

Against her parted lips, he asked, "Why wasn't I invited to this little party?"

On a silent groan, Yvette closed her eyes.

His breath touched her ear, and he said so softly only she could hear, "Have a little faith, honey."

Then, still with one arm cuddling her, he held out his hand to Heath. "I'm Cannon."

Eyes bright with hatred, Heath stared at him. "I know who you are."

Cannon didn't miss a beat. "Heath, right? How are you?"

Nonplussed, Heath looked at the proffered hand... and warily accepted it. There was no one-upmanship, no breaking grips or anything beyond a friendly greeting.

Cannon was cool personified.

"I'm fine." Heath's gaze went from Armie to Yvette to Cannon. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Tired actually, after my trip. I'd like to talk to Yvette before I go back to my room to rest up."

Armie made a show of cracking his knuckles and neck. The caveman.

For only a split second, Cannon smiled at his friend. "I've got this, Armie. Why don't you go finish up the demonstration for me?"

"You never let me have any fun." Armie walked off with the same easy att.i.tude he'd used to approach.

Anger swelling, Yvette eyed both men. Beyond wanting to avoid an ugly public confrontation, she didn't want Cannon fighting her battles.

"So." Staying relaxed, nonthreatening, Cannon shrugged. "She doesn't want to talk to you."

Heath stiffened anew. "You don't speak for her."

"Wouldn't even try," Cannon said. "She speaks for herself, and we both know she's been clear."

"More than clear," Yvette said. "Multiple times."