Seducing Cinderella (11 page)

She snorted at the ridiculous statement and followed it with a nervous laugh and her hand clapped over her face. Reid pulled her hand down. “I like it when you snort.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said with a playful shove before swinging her feet to the floor. “I don’t mean to do it, you know.”

“I know, that’s why it’s so damn adorable.”

Stopping at the edge of the couch she turned and narrowed those gray pixie eyes at him. “
No one
thinks a girl snorting is adorable.”

He shrugged and lifted his arms to lay on the back of the couch. “I would’ve agreed with that statement until I heard you do it over a week ago.”

She shook her head and laughed on her way to the kitchen, clearly not believing him, but that was okay. She would one day. One day soon she was going to know her worth and be comfortable with everything about herself, including her tendency to snort and run into inanimate objects.

As she made the popcorn and got them drinks he went through the movies offered on cable, selected
Warrior
, and paused it as soon as it came on. “Hey,” he called out. “You know what you call stubbing your toe just now?”

“The same thing I call it every time I do something like that: clumsiness.”

“No, this time it’s called karma. For when you lied to your brother this morning about stubbing your toe.”

She poked her head around the doorway, eyes wide. “Oh my gosh, you’re right! Well, that sucks.” Disappearing back into the kitchen she said, “Remind me to never make up lies that involve personal bodily harm in the future.”

He was still laughing when she walked back into the room holding a big bowl of popcorn and two bottles of water. “You just need to adjust your lies accordingly so that when karma does come around, as the saying goes, it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

She managed to place the bowl on the low table in front of them and sit on the couch without any further mishaps. As she settled back into the cushions she asked, “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Twisting his body to face her, Reid leaned in close. “Like, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now because Reid’s licking my breasts like they’re his own personal ice cream cones.’” He’d never seen someone’s cheeks pinken so fast. Getting a rise out of her was quickly becoming one of his favorite past times and he couldn’t help taking it even further. “Although, I’m not sure if that falls under karma so much as it does contributing to the universe’s suggestion box.” He lowered his eyes to the juncture of her thighs hidden by the small black pajama shorts. “Speaking of boxes—”

That was all the further he got before she’d silenced him with a hand over his mouth. Though she was doing her best at looking incredulous, she was having a damn hard time hiding her smile. “Reid Michael Andrews! What’s gotten into you?”

He pulled her hand away as he laughed. “It must be you because I haven’t had this much fun with a girl in forever.”

She tipped her head in a coy manner and looked up at him through those sexy spiked lashes. “Then again, technically speaking, I suppose it’s
you
that’s gotten into
me
.” Reid hadn’t been aware his jaw had dropped until she lifted it up with the tips of her fingers and said, “You keep your mouth open like that and you’re bound to catch flies.” Then with a cat-who-ate-the-canary grin she pulled the popcorn bowl into her lap.

Reid burst out in a long, hard laugh as he slung an arm around her and tucked her into his side. He started the movie and they fell into a comfortable silence, eating popcorn and relaxing with each other. His attention seemed more focused on her rather than the drama on the screen, though. He noticed during the fighting scenes that her whole body tensed up. If something surprised her she’d utter a quiet gasp. And while watching an on-screen kiss, her fingertips drifted up to lightly touch her own lips as though she could feel it as much as the characters.

Lucie was a quiet woman by nature. She’d lived her life standing in the wings, content to let those around her take center stage. But that didn’t mean she was any less passionate than those who preferred the spotlight. She loved her job and her friends, was fiercely dedicated and loyal, and a romantic at heart.

Reid knew he’d never settle down and have a family. He didn’t have the “family man gene” like most people. Beyond that, he didn’t live the sort of life that families flourished in.

His dad was Stan Andrews, one of the top professional boxers in his day. He’d fought many of the greats and even won against some of them. His mother had been one of the ring bunnies that hung around the gym, went to all the fights, and did her best to land a fighter. Reid’s parents had been happy until he was five. That’s when the great Stan Andrews got hit one too many times in the head, and it ended his career. After that he started drinking, and his wife was disgusted with having a washed-up ex-boxer as a husband. The thrill of being ringside and cheering in his corner was gone. And then so was she.

She’d left her son with a man who had no idea how to raise a child. In fact, he hadn’t known how to do anything other than drink and fight. So instead of raising a son, he trained a fighter.

Reid couldn’t resent the training his father had given him. He’d been tough, sometimes to the point of extremes, but in the end it had been all worth it. He became one of the best light-heavyweight mixed martial arts fighters in the world and got fame and fortune out of the deal. He lived a damn good life back in Vegas, doing one of the things he loved.

But the part of him that wasn’t a fighter—the part that wanted to sculpt, that wanted to be a son—that was the part that resented his father and everything he stood for. Only it hadn’t done any good for that part of him to rebel. He’d learned as a kid that begging for anything more than a fighter/trainer relationship with his father was hopeless. And as a teenager he’d learned that pursuing any hobbies that took time away from his training schedule was pointless.

So, no, Reid didn’t even have a chance at being relationship material, much less family material. He only looked into the future as far as his next fight. Until someone’s hand was raised in the cage, he ate, slept, and breathed everything he needed to prepare for going up against his opponent. And afterward, he started all over again for the next fight. Always a fighter. Never a spectator.

When Lucie jerked with a gasp at seeing a particularly bloody punch, he set the popcorn bowl aside and adjusted until he sat sideways on the couch and she curled up on her side between his legs with her head on his chest. He tried damn hard not to notice how much he liked the way she snuggled into him, rubbing her cheek on his T-shirt to get just the right spot she wanted.

Smiling, he played with her hair, picking up sections and running his fingers through the length, loving the silky feeling and the flowery scent that he now associated with only her.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but before the movie ended Lucie’s breathing had become deep and even with sleep. Grabbing the throw blanket from the back of the couch he tucked it around her and settled into the corner more to get comfortable.

“Sweet dreams, Lu.” He kissed the top of her hair and didn’t even remember closing his eyes.

Chapter Thirteen

Reid sank into the overstuffed couch cushions, turning sideways to stretch out his legs and lean back against the pillows he’d shoved against the side. He’d just finished showering after a long fucking day and all he wanted to do was lie there and drink the one ice-cold beer he was allowing himself for the night.

Another week had gone by since his relaxing movie night with Lucie, but instead of the fun and games they’d had time for the previous week, the last seven days had been more stressful than anything. When they weren’t working on his shoulder and training, he’d been at publicity junkets, and Lucie was getting called into work to help out with special-needs cases.

The only bright spots were the quickies they somehow found time for. But where they lacked in duration, the sessions more than made up for in passion. Any time he and Lucie got hot and heavy it was like a chemical reaction ending with an inevitable explosion that rocked them to their cores.

During one such occasion they realized they were out of condoms, prompting a frank—albeit hurried—discussion about protection. Since they both had clean bills of health and Lucie had gotten a form of birth control implanted in her arm at her ex’s request that lasted several years, they decided to forgo the latex for the duration of their time together.

The memory of sinking into her that first time with nothing between them made his balls ache. Her slick heat had set him ablaze, igniting every cell in his body as her channel milked his bare cock until he’d spilled himself deep inside her. It had taken them longer than usual to come down from that lovemaking, but when they did, his elation had shone in her eyes too.

Unfortunately, their daytime interludes were the only ones they’d had all week. By the time either of them got home at night they had just enough energy to shower and fall into bed.

Reid had a suspicion that Mann had asked her to come in just so he could see Lucie. Maybe he wanted to see if her transformation extended beyond the one night at the restaurant. Maybe he just wanted an excuse to see her and flash his girly dimples at her, who the fuck knew.

What he
did
know, was that he’d been unable to do anything about it. Once the UFC found out from Butch that Reid was up in Reno getting special training and therapy for his injury, they’d set up press conferences and publicity signings, and he’d had no option but to do them. It was part of his contract.

It’d been damn hard to focus, though, knowing that while he was answering the same questions he’d answered dozens of times, Lucie was being ogled by that surgeon. Maybe even groped if he’d had the chance. Shit, he hadn’t thought of that before. Had Mann kissed her already? Then again, it didn’t really matter. She was getting ready to leave on a date with the guy even as he lay there, so she was as good as kissed by the end of the night.

Reid’s hand tightened on the beer bottle and his jaw clenched.

A bang and clatter came from the bathroom down the hallway. “Shit!”

He turned his head in the direction of the commotion. “Everything okay in there?”

“Yeah,” she said dejectedly. “I just knocked my knee on the vanity and put a run in my pantyhose, and it’s my only pair.”

“You want me to run you to the drugstore down the street?” Then maybe he’d accidentally take a wrong turn on the way back making her late and Mann would think she stood him up and lose interest due to his fragile ego.

“No, that’s okay, there’s no time. I’ll just go without.”

Go without?
The guy would have access to her bare legs. All it would take is a brush of his hand under the table linen and he’d be able to do all sorts of creative things even though they were in public. He’d know; he’d done it plenty of times when he got bored during required dinners with the upper echelon of the fighting world.

“Why don’t you just wear a pantsuit?”

He heard the clacking of heels on the wooden floor and then she rounded the corner where he could see her. Immediately his mouth began to salivate like the ripest strawberry he’d ever seen dangled right in front of his face. That’s what she reminded him of.

Bright red from boobs to butt, she was striking in a simple cocktail dress. Spaghetti straps so small as to practically be nonexistent, a neckline that dipped into the space between her breasts, and a hem that flirted around her thighs, mere inches from the curves of her butt.

She’d curled her hair into large ringlets that gave her a smoking just-been-tumbled look and her makeup was noticeable, but subtle, with the exception of the matching red lipstick.

Affection between them right before she went on a date with another guy seemed all kinds of wrong and he’d figured it was better to avoid it than analyze it, so he’d planned on keeping things platonic for the evening.

But the image of those juicy lips wrapped around a certain part of his anatomy bombed an RPG-sized hole right through the Appropriate Dam he’d constructed in his brain.

“I don’t own a pantsuit, Reid. You never picked one out for me to try on.”

Of course he didn’t. What guy wanted to see a girl in an ugly-ass pantsuit? His eye had been drawn to every single tiny dress he could find. What a fucking moron he was.

“Doesn’t this look okay? Is it too much?” she asked while trying to get a good look at herself by twisting her body in all sorts of directions. Just then her intercom buzzed, sounding like an air horn in the otherwise quiet apartment. “Oh, God, I’m so nervous. I can’t do this. I’m going to tell him I can’t go. Claim I have food poisoning or a spontaneous case of pancreatitis.”

He was so close to agreeing with her. So goddamn close. But in the end, he couldn’t do it. Just because he was experiencing some strange and juvenile bout of jealousy over her didn’t mean he had the right to sabotage her impending happiness with Dr. Perfect Dimples.

Kicking his inner caveman back into his cave, he stood and crossed to her. “Here,” he said, handing her the bottle. “Drink some of this and relax. You’re not canceling the date and wasting all this effort I’ve put into being your fairy godmother.”

She placed a hand over her stomach as though trying to quiet the butterflies inside while the other accepted the beer and polished it off in less than five seconds. So much for his one beer.

Handing him the empty, she said, “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”

“Because you like picturing me with wings and a magic wand?” he said with a smirk.

She laughed, looking more at ease every second. “No, you dumb jock, because I needed the encouragement to actually go through with this.”

Encouragement?
Reid sobered and studied her face, trying to see if there was something—anything—he might be missing. The buzzer rang again and even though it sounded identical to the first time, he swore the man’s impatience from two floors below somehow changed the pitch.

Aggravated at the interruption he took the two strides to the door, depressed the intercom button and barked, “We hear you, hold on,” before returning to her.

When he spoke, it was quiet, deliberate. “You don’t need encouragement, Lu, because this is what you’ve wanted all along. What you’ve done all of this for…right?”

She stared back at him, her eyes tracking back and forth between his, her lips slightly parted as if ready to respond as soon as her brain could wrap itself around an answer. The low levels of tension from her nerves and his
whatever
it was slowly began to climb until it was a palpable essence choking the space between them.

With his empty hand he reached up and lifted a curl that had fallen over her eye and set it back with the others where it belonged. Her gaze fell to his lips; it was a cue he didn’t miss. Reid was seriously starting to think the role of gentleman was way overrated. But if he was going to make a move, he had to be sure.

“Lucie? Do you want to go on this date with him?”

“I—”

She was cut off by the theme song to
Rocky
coming from the kitchen. It took him a second to realize it was his cell phone. Lucie had insisted on giving all of his speed dial contacts personal ringers and they’d had a blast laughing and joking around as they searched for the perfect song for each of them. She’d picked that one for Butch
.

Reid felt the muscle in his jaw work.
Nice timing, old man.
Was the whole universe in on some sort of conspiracy against them?

Then it him like a full right hook to the temple: yeah, it was. The universe was trying to remind him that he had no right to string her along with some fantasy of something that would never come true. He was acting like a selfish prick. Wanting to keep Lucie all to himself for the time he had her.

Until the time when he’d walk away from her.

He needed his ass kicked. “You’d better go,” he said as he stepped out of her personal space. Walking toward the kitchen and his phone he called back over his shoulder to her. “Have fun on your date, Lubert. Don’t forget to flirt with the waiter.”

As he hit the button to call Butch back he heard the door open and close again and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach.

“Shoulda known better than to drink a beer while cutting weight.” He put the phone to his ear and scoffed. He’d thought by saying it out loud it would sound more convincing than it did in his head. “That’s what you get for thinking, dumbass.”

“Andrews?” Butch’s gravelly voice coming through the cell eased him to a degree. The man was more of a father to him than his real one ever had been. Ironic, considering his trainer and father could essentially switch roles in his life and it would be more accurate than what they were intended to be.

“Hey, Butch. Sorry I didn’t get to the phone right away. What’s up? How’re the guys?”

“The boys are the same as ever. But I didn’t call to chat about the boys. I have some good news.”

He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked back into the living room to resume his prone position on the couch. “Good, because I could really use some good news right about now.”

“Scotty’s coming back. Things progressed back home quicker than anticipated and he’s due to arrive in Vegas in a week.”

Reid shot back off the couch. He hadn’t had a clue what Butch’s good news was going to be, but being able to go home a month sooner than anticipated hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“So you can get outta there and come on home. Train with your teammates and prepare for your championship fight in your own gym. Christ, if I know you, you’re probably going nuts cooped up out there.”

Butch wasn’t entirely wrong. He had been getting restless lately.
Really
restless. But he didn’t think it had to do with not being in his own surroundings and having the freedom to do as he pleased as much as it was not having any quality time with Lucie. In the short time they’d been thrown together he’d come to look forward to just being with her. Whether it was sitting quietly at the table in the morning as he drank his protein shake and she sipped her coffee, or arguing over who got the remote based on who owned it versus who was the elder.

“Son, did you hear what I said?”

Reid cleared his throat and dragged a hand over his face. “Yeah, Butch, I heard you. That’s great that Scotty’s going to be back. I’m sure some of the other guys could use him, too.”

“Well, yeah, but he’ll still have most of his time blocked off to work with you. He knows what this fight means to your career.”

“And I appreciate that, but you know, Luce has taken her vacation time to help me—”

“Luce? Who’s that? What happened to that Miller lady?”

“That’s who I’m talking about. Her name is Lucie. I’m just saying that I think it would be unprofessional if I took her dedication for granted and bailed sooner than planned.”

Radio silence.
Shit
. Butch was a mild-mannered guy…until you said or did something against him that had to do with training, and the silence was the calm before the storm. It was his only similarity to Reid’s father, but even then Butch never took it to the point of cruelty Stan Andrews had.

“Are you fucking kidding me! Am I being Plunk’d or whatever the hell it’s called? Because I’m having a hard time understanding why my star fighter is turning down help from his
professional
trainer and
professional
sports doc to prepare for
the
biggest fight in his career!”

Reid started pacing in the small room like a caged lion in front of the dude with the whip. “Damn it, Butch, don’t start on me like that, all right? I just said—”

“I heard what you said. What I’m concerned with, boy, is what you’re
not
saying.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the Reid I know would jump all over the chance to come back to camp and focus on taking back his belt. It means I think it’s possible you’re thinking with your dick instead of your head.”

Reid froze. Coach was hitting a little too close to home with that one. “Just because I don’t want to be a heartless bastard doesn’t mean anything other than that, old man.”