Ultimate: No Limits Part 22

Fine. He wanted to pout? He could do it alone. "I'm hanging up now."

"No." Heath's voice, raw with appeal, called out to her. "Don't."

"You have to stop calling me, Heath."

"I can't."

His ragged breathing stole some of her anger. She had dated this man for months, she'd been as intimate with him as she was capable of being, so some level of compa.s.sion remained. "Are you okay?"

"Come home, Yvette."

Her shoulders sagged-in relief. Obviously he hadn't left California as he'd claimed, or he wouldn't want her to return there. She knew the nicest thing she could do for him was to make him understand that things were over. Gently, but with firm insistence, she said, "I can't."

Defeat left his tone, replaced with a surprising explosion of rage. "Or you won't?"

She was so tired of his anger, of his mood swinging from adoration to loathing. "Both. But, Heath, it doesn't matter." As calmly as she could, she laid it out for him. "Even if I was there, we weren't together anymore. We'll never be together again. Please believe me. It's over."

A chilling laugh sounded through the phone. "You can be such a f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h sometimes."

"Heath-"

"Does your new boyfriend know that? Does he know what a lousy lay you are? Does he realize your heart is so f.u.c.king frozen that all you do is lie there and-"

Breathing hard, her compa.s.sion blown, Yvette disconnected the call. Shaking all over, she badly wanted to throw the phone, but what good would that do?

"What is it?"

At the sound of Cannon's voice, she screeched and jumped a foot. When she whipped around, Cannon stood there in the open garage door, his gaze far too astute.

"Dear G.o.d, you startled me."

He didn't move toward her. "That was Heath?"

Expelling a big breath, she nodded. "Yes. He was... unhappy." She almost snorted at herself. Such an understatement.

"How many people have your number?"

"Not many. You. Vanity." She made a face. "Heath."

"Let's get you a new phone and a new number."

Since he didn't come to her, she felt uncertain of his mood. Always, every single time, Cannon greeted her with soft kisses and smiles.

"I can just block him."

Suspicion brightened his blue eyes. "Then why haven't you?"

"He wasn't that nasty before."

"And you feel sorry for him?"

More like guilty-but not anymore. Sweat gathered between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and at the small of her back. Loose hairs from her braid stuck to her temples.

Cannon was in much the same shape, his T-shirt sticking to his skin in several places, his glossy dark hair damp with sweat.

Setting the phone aside, Yvette plucked at her shirt, letting some air underneath. "Did you jog in this heat?"

His attention sharpened as he looked her over. "No." He peeled off his shirt and used it to swipe over his chest. "I usually shower at the rec center, but it was packed today, so I figured I'd shower here instead."

Despite Heath's recent attack, a smile tugged at her mouth. "More guys are showing up because you're there."

"Yeah." He strode closer, his gaze locked with hers. "Armie says I'm good for business. I think he signed up ten new guys today alone."

From what she understood, the more MMA devotees who signed up, the more programs they could offer to the at-risk kids in the neighborhood.

"That's nice."

Focused on her, he got closer.

She tried to pull her gaze away but couldn't. "Cannon..."

He stopped in front of her, looking all over her, especially at where her shirt stuck to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "It's hot as h.e.l.l in here."

Staring up at him, suddenly breathless, she whispered, "No air circulation."

With a touch of awe, Cannon trailed his rough fingertips down her throat, back and forth over her upper chest, then teased down into her cleavage. "How can you look so f.u.c.king s.e.xy even now?"

He rarely cursed in front of her, and hearing it now with that particular rasp in his voice shook her. "I don't. I'm a mess."

"No." He bent to open his mouth on her throat, his lips lingering against her heated, damp skin. One hand opened on her waist, then slowly, so d.a.m.n slowly, moved under her shirt and up, until he covered her breast.

They both went still, Yvette breathing heavily, Cannon growling softly.

Sweltering hot, humid air hung heavily around them. Outside the garage, a bird chirped. Somewhere nearby a car door closed.

With his face still against her throat, Cannon moved his thumb up and over her nipple.

"Hope I'm not intruding," said an amused female voice.

Yvette tried to jerk away, but Cannon held her still for a heartbeat, then turned, tucking her behind him.

"Hey," he said to their visitor. "Wasn't expecting you."

Yvette peeked around Cannon's bare shoulder and saw the lawyer's a.s.sistant. Despite the heat wave, she had on full makeup, including bright red lips. Beneath a silky blue sleeveless blouse, tan tailored skirt and high-heeled sandals, she looked cool and chic.

And even with Yvette watching her, she ogled Cannon's naked upper body.

After a slow lick of her glossy lips, she murmured, "You've healed up nicely, though I can still see a few faded bruises."

Yvette's hair nearly stood on end. Had Mindi seen Cannon shirtless already? Had she- "Should have seen it before," Cannon told her, alleviating Yvette's worry without even knowing it. "I was pretty colorful there for a while. But yeah, I heal quick." He c.o.c.ked his head. "So what's up?"

"I'm sorry to just drop in, Cannon, but you didn't return my call."

Another call? Yvette stepped around in front of him.

Mindi slid her gaze over her, taking in all the sweat and dust with barely veiled disdain. "Ms. Sweeny."

Trying not to sound mean or territorial-no matter how she felt-Yvette said, "Ms. Jarrett."

Changing tactics, the woman put on a sympathetic face and crooned, "How are you, honey?"

The demeaning tone meant for the "poor little lost girl" cut right through Yvette, leaving a swatch of pain in its wake. "What do you mean?" Just how much of her past did the a.s.sistant know?

"You lost your grandfather, relocated... I'm sure it's been difficult."

Inner trembling settled, and the constriction left her lungs. So her facade of sympathy wasn't about the past, but the present. "We're fine, thank you." She stressed the word we.

Still with exaggerated pity, one hand to her chest, Mindi asked, "No bad moments?"

Indignation rising, Yvette stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"Being back here, in this house? I understand you suffered serious trauma."

Oh, G.o.d. Had Cannon told her everything? Her heart plummeted and sick betrayal rose up to burn her throat.

"I don't know the details, of course, but your grandfather hinted-"

"What? What did he tell you?" She refused to believe her grandfather had discussed anything with the woman.

"Oh, honey," she crooned. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Putting his hands on her shoulders, Cannon asked, "What can we do for you, Mindi?"

Nettled, Yvette couldn't miss how familiarly they addressed each other. She was Ms. Sweeny, but he was simply Cannon.

"We should talk." Mindi stepped just inside the garage, which left the sun behind her to make a glowing halo of her pale blond hair and her shapely figure.

Yvette disliked her more by the second, but not as much as she disliked the situation.

She would not be a weak person.

Raising her chin, she faced Mindi. "What is there to talk about? Has Mr. Whitaker sent you here for a reason?" There, she thought. Deal with that.

Mindi's smile hardened. "Frank knows I'm here, if that's what you mean." She turned to Cannon. "I didn't hear back from you."

"There's nothing more to talk about," Cannon said, his hands now ma.s.saging Yvette's shoulders. "We're staying."

Mindi fanned a hand in front of her face, trying to stir the heavy air. "But I explained that my friend had upped his offer."

"Doesn't change anything," Cannon said.

Another offer? That was news to Yvette. Just how many times had Mindi called him? Not that it mattered, Cannon was right about that. The longer she remained, the more she wanted it to be forever.

"You haven't heard the offer," Mindi said, now trailing her manicured fingertips over the many boxes stacked in the garage.

Yvette hid her hands behind her, until she realized that put them right over Cannon's fly. His only reaction was to tighten his hold on her shoulders.

Flushing, she pulled them around front again, curling her hands to hide her short fingernails. "I'm not selling."

Smiling, Cannon repeated, "We're not selling."

The sweet scent of Mindi's expensive perfume dissipated in the musty garage. "You realize that staying here, in this house, doesn't require you to keep the p.a.w.nshop." As Mindi said that, she looked at Yvette. "You have a big career that leaves little time for unimportant distractions."

Getting the not-so-subtle message that she was an unimportant distraction, Yvette shimmered with anger. "I'll run the shop."

"And you can buy out Cannon?" Mindi lifted one box lid to peek inside, but bubble wrap hid the contents. "Because I know half of it was his."

"What it is," Cannon said firmly, stepping around Yvette to close the box again, "is none of your business."

Both women stared at him. It surprised Yvette that he could say something so insulting without any sign of anger. He'd sounded almost tender, as if he'd given the woman a compliment.

Of course she knew he had a reputation for making friends with every woman he met, but she'd never seen him in action before.

"True, of course." Mindi's mouth pursed and annoyance narrowed her eyes. "I'm sorry if I'm overstepping myself, but-"

"It's fine," Cannon cut in, then added, "as long as you stop now."

A palpable silence throbbed in the air.

Mindi smiled. "Yes, of course. I apologize." Instead of withdrawing, she took in the cluttered garage. "So what is all this?"

Knowing Mindi addressed Cannon didn't stop Yvette from answering. "It's inventory for the shop."

"Tipton's leavings?" She peered into the box closest to her. "Have you found anything interesting?"

"Much of this is from a business I had."

"Oh." She closed the box. "Have you gone through Tipton's storage units yet?"

Not liking her nosiness, or the familiar way she used her grandfather's name, Yvette stayed mum.

Cannon filled in the silence, saying vaguely, "One thing at a time."

"I see." She smiled at Cannon. "Well, I should be going now. If you change your mind-about anything- please let me know."

Cannon moved to her side and took her arm. "I'll walk you out."

Oh, now wait a minute! Yvette wanted to protest, but Cannon glanced over his shoulder at her. "Be right back."