Seaside Nights Part 4

"Searching?" It came out sounding like a question.

He met her gaze again, and something about the intense way she was looking at him, as if she were trying to see inside him, made the truth spill out.

"I started hanging out with these older kids. Part of me knew they were no good, but they were tough, and that was intriguing to me. Well, that lasted about ten minutes. My father came home one weekend and caught me mouthing off to our neighbor. It's embarra.s.sing to think about now, but at thirteen, what did I know? Anyway, my father's got this way of seeing right through people, and he knew exactly what I needed. He dragged my b.u.t.t down to the local fight club and handed me over to Roach."

"Roach?"

"Manny Roach Regan. He's been my trainer forever, but it didn't start out that way. My father took me to a fight club and told Roach to show me what it meant to be respectful, and then he walked out the door."

"He left you at the fight club?" Her eyes widened. "When you were thirteen?" Her fingers inched across the sand and covered his.

"Yeah," he said with a smile, because looking back, he knew his father realized exactly what he was doing. "That one afternoon changed the course of my life. Roach is a no-bulls.h.i.t guy. He was in his twenties, and he was ma.s.sive. He had me taking out the trash, cleaning the gym, and working the bags."

"And you didn't hate your dad for leaving you there?" She sat up, and he could see the tension in her shoulders. "Weren't you scared?"

"Scared s.h.i.tless. I thought I was tough, and then suddenly this monster of a guy is looming over me. Roach is intimidating to adults, so at thirteen..." He shook his head with the memory. "Let me tell you, I didn't feel so tough after about two minutes with the guy. But I was a quick study, and something about his toughness spoke to me. I went back the next day, and the next. And eventually I got over my frustration and anger at my father for dumping me off on Roach, because really, he was saving my life."

"And now you fight." Her eyes moved over his face, and she shook her head, as if she couldn't make sense of what she saw.

"Yes. I'm a fighter. It's who I am." He paused, thinking about that statement, and changed his mind. "Actually, it really isn't who I am, Sky. It's what I do. And Roach? He became my mentor and one of my best buddies. He taught me to respect everyone and everything, and part of respect is knowing when it's okay to fight. When two people agree to the rules and engage in a safe environment-in the ring-that's cool. Street fighting or bullying is not."

"But..." Her brows knitted together. "How can you punch some guy in the head? I don't watch boxing, obviously, but I've seen clips on television. It's so violent."

"That's how most people see it. A lot of people correlate boxing to Mike Tyson and the whole ear-biting fiasco-all that nonsense and hype that surrounded him in the years following that fight. But you've just spent hours with me. Do I seem like an aggressive media seeker to you?"

She shook her head, and a genuine smile lifted her lips as she reached up and touched his cheek. He leaned in to her touch.

"No. I can't imagine someone punching this face. In fact, it's hard to put the idea of you boxing together with the man that I've just gotten to know and the man I saw singing at open mic night. You're either really good at pretending to be someone you're not, or you've managed to divide and conquer your inner self."

"Divide and conquer my inner self? That's the perfect way to say it." Her hand slipped from his cheek. "When I was younger, all my mother wanted for me was to be true to myself. I loved music, and she signed me up for guitar and piano lessons. I'm surprised I didn't end up a boxer and a professional musician, quite honestly."

"Well, you do write songs and sing them in bars. How does your mom feel about your fighting?"

A breeze swept off the water, causing goose b.u.mps to rise on Sky's arms. Sawyer pulled her in close, loving the feel of her against him.

"She won't come to my fights, but she supports me. She came to a few when I was younger, but it was too hard for her to watch her little boy punch and be punched."

"I can only imagine." Sky sank down to her back again.

He leaned over her and asked, "Is this too much for you?"

She shrugged like it was no big deal, but the look in her eyes and her wrinkled brow told him that it was a very big deal. "I think I'm with your mom. I don't think I could watch you fight, but I guess I won't really know unless I try at some point. When do you fight?"

"Well, right now I'm training for a t.i.tle fight."

"A t.i.tle fight? Is that a big deal?"

He smiled at the question. "Really big. I'm the East Coast Boxing Federation cruiserweight t.i.tleholder, and ranked number three in the Northeast Boxing a.s.sociation." He couldn't keep the pride from his tone.

"Cruiserweight? t.i.tle fight? I'm sorry, I don't know the lingo."

"Cruiserweight is the weight cla.s.s, usually 176 to 200 pounds. I hold steady between 198 and 200. And holding the t.i.tle means you're the champion in that division. A t.i.tle fight is a fight for the t.i.tle, or to become the champion."

"So...you'll fight the best in the division and try to win the t.i.tle from him?"

He nodded, remembering the doctor's warning, and his smile slipped away.

"Yes, that's right."

"Do you like it? Fighting, I mean?"

He lay on his back beside her again, wanting to avoid her gaze while he thought over his answer.

Sky reached for his hand. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. Sometimes we don't know what we really feel."

He looked at her then and felt even more drawn to her than he had all evening. He didn't want to hold back, but revealing the truth would burn like an open wound, and once she realized how much he loved boxing, she might run the other way. She smiled and he realized how quickly their connection had developed. Better to find out now than after they'd spent even more time together.

"For the first few years, boxing was an outlet and obsession. I loved the adrenaline rush as much as the power of knowing I had succeeded at what I set out to do-to win. Then it became my pa.s.sion. It was what I lived for, and then, after my father became ill, boxing took on a new meaning. In addition to being something I love, it became something I needed to succeed at to secure his future."

"I'm sorry, Sawyer. I didn't realize-"

He squeezed her hand, then pushed up on his elbow again, missing the connection he felt when he gazed into her eyes.

"He was in the Vietnam War, and like too many other veterans, he fell prey to the aftereffects of Agent Orange. Parkinson's. .h.i.t him a few years ago. He's in stage three, still able to function for the most part, with deficits in speech, walking, facial expressions, and..." His chest tightened as he rattled off the parts of his father that were quickly slipping away. He inhaled a breath and felt the urge to move. Sitting still made him feel like he wasn't doing anything to help his father, and that, he realized as he stood and reached for Sky's hand, was just one of the painful realities of his father's illness. There was nothing he could do for his parents but help financially and provide emotional support.

They walked up the beach as he described what his parents' life had become-the slowness of his father's gait, his endless tremors, and his need to rely on others, which he knew his father disliked.

"I can't imagine the sense of loss your whole family must feel. My mom's death was a shock. It was unexpected and treacherous, but I can't imagine watching her deteriorate because of a disease." She squeezed his hand. "How does his health tie into how you feel about boxing?"

"I've always fought regionally because I wanted to be close by in case my parents needed me, but regional fighters don't earn as much as national fighters. And then I won my t.i.tles and finally began earning big. Big enough that four years ago I was able to purchase a house that had been in our family for generations but my parents had given up nearly fifteen years earlier because they needed money."

"That's incredibly generous, and so meaningful, to bring that family history back into your lives."

He stopped walking and looked toward Commercial Street, thinking about the last few years and how much had changed-and how much hadn't. His father's health had changed, which had taken a toll on both of his parents, and his fighting had progressed to higher levels, but he felt like he was treading the same water he'd been over many times before.

"The house was all my father talked about when I was growing up, and bringing it back into the family felt like the biggest achievement of my life. Even bigger than the t.i.tles I'd won. I'm renovating it this summer, adding wheelchair ramps and making it easier for him to get around so he can still spend time there as his disease progresses. You asked about how my father's illness fits into my boxing. The more I learned about Parkinson's, the more I realized what he'd need in terms of care as the disease progressed and how much his care would cost. The military covers a good deal of his medical expenses, but he'd never want to be put in a health-care facility full-time, despite the fact that there'll come a time when his care will be too burdensome for my mother."

Sky's eyes filled with compa.s.sion.

"He's the only man my mother has ever loved, and although she says she'll care for him..." He shook his head. "It'll be too much for her. It would be too much for anyone. I've finally made it to a point where a t.i.tle fight would mean enough money to cover in-home, professional medical care for the rest of his life." And now the doctor says another blow to my head could leave me brain damaged. He pushed that awful thought down deep and said, "I'm going to win this t.i.tle fight for him, and then I'll think about retiring."

"Sawyer." She reached for his other hand, holding both as she gazed into his eyes like she was seeing him for the first time. "You're fighting to provide for your father? That's admirable. Your parents must be very proud of you."

He couldn't confirm that as easily as he would like to, because his parents didn't know about the doctor's recent warning-if they did, he knew his father would tell him not to fight. Sawyer had one last chance to pay his father back for seeing enough in him, for believing in him enough to redirect and center him. Sawyer had had years to think about that day his father had handed him over to Roach, and there was no doubt in his mind that his father had saved him from teenage years filled with trouble. Who knew what he might have done, or where he might have ended up? His father might not have been around much, but he cared. He cared enough to risk his son being p.i.s.sed off for weeks on end.

Come h.e.l.l or high water, Sawyer was going to win this fight. He dropped his gaze to the sand, then shifted it to the parking lot, and watched a group of people laughing as they walked toward the lights of Commercial Street.

"He was very proud of me." He needed noise to drown out the chaos in his head and the ache in his chest that accompanied thoughts about his father and the doctor's warning.

"Was? And now?" she pushed.

Now it's like looking in a mirror, at what could happen to me if I get hit in the head again. Now I hear his slowed voice telling me to give it up and follow my heart to something else. Now I'm standing between two rivals playing Russian roulette. On one side is my father's care and quality of life. On the other is something I haven't thought about with any great significance-my own well-being.

And now the thing I never expected has happened.

Now there's you. Causing me to question my decisions in a way I never have before.

He couldn't say any of those things. Not tonight. Not on their first date.

Maybe not ever.

"Now I think we should go to a club, listen to music, and see if you're as good at dancing as you are at listening. And kissing. You're definitely good at kissing."

Chapter Five.

TWO HOURS LATER Sky's and Sawyer's bodies were pressed tightly together on the crowded dance floor of a dimly lit nightclub, surrounded by a ma.s.s of people b.u.mping and grinding to a band Sky had never heard of. The melody didn't matter. They'd been dancing since they'd arrived, and their bodies moved to a rhythm she was sure only they could hear. A private beat, fast and slow, hot and sensual. His hands splayed across her back, moving over her hips, then up her arms. Undemanding and possessive at the same time, as if she'd been his forever.

Sky didn't consider herself uptight or laden with inhibitions, but she had some level of self-control-and she'd left it behind when their bodies began their slow seduction, and her mind turned l.u.s.tful and dark. It had been a long time since she'd gotten lost in someone, and that's exactly what was happening. She couldn't resist letting herself feel for the man who loved his father enough to fight for him, the man who listened and comforted her. The man who could have taken advantage of her openness, if he'd been a different type of person. The man whose soul seemed to be as deeply rooted in who he was as hers was.

Her hands traveled over the hard ridges of his chest, as their hips brushed and his arousal pressed against her, rigid and tempting. She closed her eyes, and when his mouth descended on hers in a needful, wanting kiss, she felt dizzy. Her skin p.r.i.c.kled with antic.i.p.ation of more. Her emotions whirred, and he intensified the kiss, crushing his mouth to hers at the same time he slid one hand lower and cupped her a.s.s, brushing his thumb beneath her shorts and over the edge of her panties.

His lips slid to the corner of her mouth, then across her cheek, and he said something in a growl, but the music was too loud to make it out. She pressed in closer, craving the sound of his voice. His thumb slowly stroked her flesh, grazing her panties with each pa.s.s, making her insides smolder in flames. She wanted so much more of him. s.e.x was all around them. Men gyrated against men, women danced with men, and women openmouthed kissed other women in a visual orgy of s.e.xually charged bodies, all of which heightened her arousal. When Sawyer turned her in his arms and raked his teeth over the sh.e.l.l of her ear, she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access. He sealed his mouth over her neck and pressed his hard length against her a.s.s.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was chastising herself about this being their first date, knowing she should slow down. But Sky was all about the universe pulling her in the right direction. And right here, right now, she let herself enjoy where it was taking her. Every touch, every stroke of Sawyer's tongue, made her crave more. She turned to him and claimed his mouth in another unrelenting kiss. He returned her efforts hungrily, until his oxygen became hers and the line between them blurred.

Sky didn't know how much time had pa.s.sed before they finally left the bar, but it felt like a lifetime. A long, sensual lifetime that made her acutely aware of her s.e.xuality and the ripe state her body had fallen into.

His arm was heavy on her shoulder, his jaw scratchy against her cheek, and she loved it all. His strength, his protectiveness. The sound of his gravelly voice.

They headed toward the shop with their bodies pressed together, their mouths connecting every few steps. She gripped his hips, clawed at his sides, touching him wherever she could. Forgetting herself-forgetting that they were on the crowded sidewalk with people walking by. She didn't care, and probably no one else did either. At night Provincetown was a plethora of s.e.x and greed, and tonight she was lost in the thick of it. Lost in the world of Sawyer Ba.s.s.

As they rounded the dark alley beside the shop, their lips parted long enough for her to say, "I had you pegged so wrong." She was breathing hard, wishing she hadn't spoken so he'd plunder her mouth again.

"When I came in for the tattoo and could hardly keep from staring at you?" He leaned in to her and pressed her back against the cold brick wall as their mouths came together again.

"At the bar," she said. "When I heard you play the guitar. I thought you were totally into yourself."

"I was lost in thoughts of you. I saw you reading and couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You don't need to b.u.t.ter me up. You're already getting kissed good night," she teased.

"If I wanted to b.u.t.ter you up I'd use a better line, like, where have you been all my life, or-"

"Cheesy!" She b.u.mped him with her shoulder as they stumbled toward the stairs as if they were tipsy, when all they'd consumed was each other.

They ascended the narrow steps to her apartment. His hand rested at the base of her spine, searing heat right through her shirt to her skin. On the landing, Sky's pulse quickened with the need for a fast decision. She was having more fun, and felt more alive, than she had in a very long time. s.e.xy fun. If she asked him to come inside, she knew they'd likely end up in bed together, which sounded very, very good to her at the moment. But she wasn't the type of girl who slept with a man on the first date, and she was truly hoping for a second date with Sawyer-and a third and fourth.

"I had a really great time," she finally said.

He held her hips, and the surety of his grip stirred thoughts of what it would be like to be naked beneath him, to feel the weight of him bearing down on her while their hips moved in perfect sync.

"Want to come inside?" The invitation came too fast for her to stop it.

"I want to," he said, eyes dark as night, "but I think I'd better say good night here."

Worried that if she said anything at all, Then stop thinking, would come out, she nodded instead.

He pulled her flush against him and, good Lord, did he feel good. Driven by the combination of l.u.s.t and something deeper that had seeded itself sometime between the ice cream and his confession about his family, she went up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.

His tongue swept over hers in a slow, intoxicating kiss. A lovers' kiss that spoke of far more history than they'd shared-and like everything else about Sawyer, it drew her in.

One hand slid beneath her hair and cupped her head, and the other crushed her to him. Sky was whirling with desire, and her hands were on a mission, traveling up his sides, over the muscles of his back, then down into the pockets of his jeans. She pressed on his firm a.s.s, bringing them impossibly closer. The depth of her desires surprised her, and her eyes came open with the realization of just how strong the urge was. How far she was willing to go.

Their lips parted and he kissed her forehead, then pressed his hands to her cheeks and said, "I could kiss you all night long."

"Okay-" slipped out before she thought to stop it. She wasn't ready for more, despite how much she wanted it. Was she? G.o.d...did she ever want him. He smiled and pressed his lips to hers again, lighter this time, and when he drew away, her lips still tingled from their impa.s.sioned kisses.

"I like you, Sky. I like you too much after just a few hours. I don't trust myself not to do more than kiss those lovely lips of yours if we go inside."

Her knees weakened at his honesty. "I'm not sure I trust myself either."

"See how much we have in common?" He held her close, and she breathed him in, memorizing his scent to carry her through the night. "I'm training in the morning. I'd like to see you tomorrow evening. That is, if you don't mind hanging out with a boxer."

A boxer. How could she have let that get so far from her mind? Fighting went against everything she believed in, but she'd never had her beliefs tested in this way before. One look in his dark eyes drew her into his arms again.

"Honestly, I haven't had time to process how I'll deal with your career, but I know I feel more connected with you than I've felt with anyone before. And that means something to me, so I'd like to spend more time with you while we figure out the rest."

"I can't ask for more than that," he said with a smile. "Tomorrow, then?"

"Oh, wait." She winced, remembering her promise to Jenna. "I just remembered that my brother and our friends are having a bonfire tomorrow night, and I promised to go. Would you like to go with me?"

"I would love to, as long as I won't be imposing on your time with your friends."

"Not at all. It's just a few of my friends and their husbands."

"Sounds great," he said with a s.e.xy smile. "What can I bring?"

"Me."

With his mouth a whisper away, he ran his thumb over her lower lip and said, "The second before we kiss, you get a wanting and exquisitely feminine look in your eyes, and it's the most sensual thing I've ever seen."