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Yvette had been occupied watching Cannon replace tools in the garage, but at that growled sentiment, she looked at Armie. "What?"
"The coward who d.i.c.ked with your door. I hate that sneaky c.r.a.p."
She pretty much hated it, too. "It bothers me a lot that my problems are spilling over and affecting Cannon. If I could, I'd keep him totally uninvolved."
Armie snorted. "Some friendly advice-don't say that to Cannon. No involved guy would want to hear it, but Cannon gets more involved than most."
Knowing he was probably right, she said in a smaller voice, "I only meant uninvolved with the trouble." And before he made her feel even worse, she explained, "I wanted him to see me differently this time."
At that, Armie laughed outright.
Insulted, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Why is that funny?"
"How the h.e.l.l did you want him to see you? The poor guy is upside down over you." He lifted a brow. "Majorly in l.u.s.t."
"Armie," she warned.
But he'd already moved on. "He likes you, too, though. Wouldn't have brought you around the rec center otherwise. And clearly he enjoys you. Don't think I've ever seen the guy so touchy-feely, and always smiling." Shaking his head, he asked, "Did you want him to be oblivious?"
"Of course not." She wanted him to be...well, impressed. And didn't that just make her sound shallow?
"Then I'd say he's seeing you exactly as he should." Softening, going more serious, he said, "But, hon, I get what you're saying. You wanted to show him that you were free of the past."
Exactly! "Yes, that's what I meant."
"Only no one ever is. Not me, not Cannon." He glanced at her. "Not you. Some s.h.i.t digs in, gets under our skin, and while we might get used to it, we can't get rid of it. It takes part in everything we do, every decision we make."
Did Armie's past play into his outrageousness? Most likely. She rubbed a smudge of dirt on her jeans. "The thing is, Cannon got pulled into all my mayhem before I moved away. Then, as soon as I get home, I find out my grandfather has more or less saddled him with me. I was dealing with that, but now Heath is here, causing more trouble." The spot of dirt remained-much like her problems.
"I say you just go with it."
She gave up on her messy clothes and instead stared at Armie. "Go with it how?"
"Stop fighting fate. Stop fighting Cannon."
"I haven't been!"
"Bull. I see it, so I guarantee you that he sees it." He pulled into the driveway, and Cannon started out of the open garage to greet them.
"You're here," Armie added. "Looks to me as if you're staying. So jump in with both feet. Tiptoeing around never got anything accomplished."
She didn't have time to a.s.similate that before Cannon opened her door, tugged her out and greeted her with his mouth on hers.
"Way to make me feel like a third wheel," Armie complained.
Cannon kept his arm around her waist. "Everyone knows you like things in threes."
"Not when I'm just a bystander." Grinning at Yvette's blush, Armie added, "Got everything moved in and locked up again before we left."
"Great. Drinks are on me tonight."
When they both laughed, Yvette said, "Why is that a joke?"
"Because neither of us will be drinking." He stole another kiss, took her hand and started for the garage. "I have to show you what we found." He looked back. "Come on, Armie. You'll want to see this, too."
In the middle of the floor was a medium-size safe. Yvette looked up and saw a panel missing in the ceiling. "It was up there?"
"Yeah. Centered on two-by-fours across the rafters. d.a.m.n thing weighs around a hundred pounds. We had a heck of a time getting it down."
"We?" Armie asked, walking around the safe.
"Denver helped. It barely fits through the opening, so it was pretty awkward."
"And if you misstepped, you and the safe both would have come through the ceiling."
Yvette knelt down to look at the locks. "Why would Grandpa have that up there?"
"No idea," Cannon said. "But with the double locks, we'll need both the key and the pa.s.s code to open it." He crouched down beside her. "You run across anything like that?"
"Not so far, no. But I can keep an eye out."
"Until then, I think I'll bring it inside, just in case he has anything valuable in there. Doubtful, given where he had it stored, but..." Cannon shrugged. "Could be whatever is in there is so important that he didn't want to leave it in the obvious places."
"A mystery." Armie rubbed his hands together. "Now you have me interested."
"Where do you want me to put it?" Cannon asked.
"Our..." She glanced at Armie and amended, "My bedroom, I guess."
Though Armie said nothing at her near slip, he had to pinch his mouth to keep from grinning. "Guess I should get going. I'll see you both at Rowdy's."
After he'd left, Cannon hefted the safe to carry it in, and Yvette held the door open. He set it inside her closet for safekeeping.
Yvette double-checked the various keys and papers that they'd gotten from Whitaker, but there wasn't anything for the safe. She glanced at the clock and knew she had to hustle to get ready.
Tonight, when they returned from Rowdy's, she'd do a search to see if she could find a way to access the safe.
She watched Cannon peel off his shirt as he headed into the hall shower and decided the safe could wait. As soon as they got home, she'd let him know she was ready. Past ready.
She'd waited long enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
t he bar was insanely packed. Every table, booth and bar stool was taken with standing room only. Denver, Armie, Stack and a few others had tables toward the back-leaving the up-front tables for Cannon's fans- and luckily they'd saved her a seat.
After seeing her to their table, Cannon cupped her face. "I might be busy for a few hours, but I'll keep checking back here."
For what? If Heath was still around, he couldn't bother her in a place this congested with onlookers. "I'll be fine," she promised him. "Go and have fun."
Customers started chanting his name, leaving him chagrined. He touched her mouth with his fingertips, leaned in for a demonstrative kiss that made it clear they were together, then turned and headed up front.
All along the way, male fans greeted him with fist b.u.mps, high fives and the occasional clap on the shoulder.
Female fans were more outrageous, running their fingers along his shoulders or arm as he pa.s.sed, blowing him kisses, doing what they could to gain attention.
Totally in his element, Cannon reciprocated to the crowd and mugged for pictures.
Rowdy and his wife, Avery, stayed busy filling drinks from behind the bar, with Ella and two other waitresses wending repeatedly through the crowd with trays.
When Cannon reached the front, Rowdy paused to shake out a Rowdy's bar T-shirt and, with the women wolf whistling and cheering him on, handed it over to Cannon.
Yvette could barely see, but when she heard the new roar, she went on tiptoe to peek.
At ease, Cannon stood there in jeans only.
Her heart tripped, especially when she saw Mary right up front, toasting him with a beer.
He pulled on the black shirt that served as a uniform for the bar and the cheers turned to mournful protests. Grinning, Cannon wagged his finger at the crowd.
Bending to her ear, Armie murmured, "Better get used to it. At a fight preview it'll be even worse. Or an after-party? Forget it. The women try to molest him."
Yvette lightly elbowed him, which only made him laugh.
The night rolled on pleasantly enough. The women who weren't flirting with Cannon flirted with Armie and Denver and Stack.
Armie seemed resistant, which told her he was her watchdog for the night. "Raining on your parade, aren't I?"
"Naw. I needed a break anyway."
She laughed with him.
Cannon came around, bringing her a gla.s.s of wine, beer for Denver and Stack, water with lime for Armie.
And again he kissed her. "Having fun?"
"It's terrific," she told him. One hand to his chest, smoothing over the Getting Rowdy logo, she asked, "How are you holding up?"
His hand curled over her nape. He put his mouth to her throat, her jaw, up to her ear, where he whispered, "I miss you."
She felt herself flushing. Everyone looked at them. "You're going to break so many hearts tonight."
His teeth caught her earlobe, his tongue touched and he breathed, "I'm discouraging all the guys who are looking your way."
A surprised laugh burst out, and she hugged him. "Don't be silly."
"Silly, huh?"
"You are the center of attention," she told him. "No one is paying any attention to me."
As if perplexed, he studied her face, his blue eyes dark in the dim light, his lashes leaving exaggerated shadows over his gorgeous face. "Amazing."
"What?"
"You really don't realize." He shook his head, went back to her ear and whispered, "I love your modesty. It's as s.e.xy as the rest of you."
Heart thumping, lips parted, Yvette watched him finish circulating the room.
She jumped when Armie nudged her.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Her face went hot. No way would she tell him how the L word had taken out her knees, or how the brief touch of his hot tongue had started a slow burn inappropriate to the situation.
A wicked gleam entered his eyes. "I've heard it all before, you know. Done it, too. You won't shock me."
Mute, she shook her head.
"That good, huh? d.a.m.n, girl, you know how to pique the interest. And I'm betting whatever I imagine is going to be more explicit than the truth."
When Denver laughed, they both turned to see Cherry now sitting in his lap. That didn't, however, keep her from enjoying some playful, suggestive banter with all the guys.
Cherry really was a world-cla.s.s flirt, Yvette thought. Maybe she should take lessons. That way, instead of freezing up when Cannon teased her, she could tease right back.
Another hour pa.s.sed without Cannon making it back to them. Between serving drinks, he signed autographs and posed with fans. One guy didn't like how his date ogled Cannon. Already drunk and obviously stupid, he tried to challenge him, but Cannon laughed it off, ducking out of reach of a wild haymaker thrown at his face.
Rowdy escorted out both the man and his protesting lady friend.
Not being much of a drinker, Yvette was only on her third-was it her third? anyway, another-gla.s.s of wine when she noticed Armie looking beyond her, his interest blatant. Expecting to see Merissa, she followed his gaze and spotted Mindi.
Instead of her business suits, the lawyer's a.s.sistant had changed into a sleeveless, body-hugging dress and strappy sandals. Her blond hair hung loose in soft curls. Their gazes met. Yvette wanted to look away, but for some reason couldn't.
After smiling and nodding, Mindi zeroed in on Cannon. Her eyes narrowed with sensual intent, a satisfied smile lifting just the corners of her shiny lips.
Every guy at her table noticed Mindi, so Yvette could only a.s.sume that Cannon found her attractive, as well. And why not? Regardless of Mindi's uncharitable personality, Yvette had to admit that Mindi looked amazing.
She now regretted wearing her SBC T-shirt with Cannon on the front over skinny cropped jeans and flat sandals. She'd been thinking only of supporting him, having fun and being comfortable.
She should have worn her own s.e.xy dress, d.a.m.n it. But...that just wasn't her. And why should she try that hard anyway? She didn't want or need to compete with Mindi. Hadn't she made a promise to herself to be independent and courageous? That included standing up for herself.
She drained the gla.s.s, put it on the table and rose from her seat. "I'm going to squeeze up front a little."
One arm around Cherry, Denver toasted her with his beer. "Go get 'em, Yvette."
She glared at Armie. "Why is he drinking if you and Cannon aren't?" Stack had tossed back a couple of longnecks, too, as had most of the men there.