Page 3 of Falling for the Forbidden Fighter (She’s Worth the Trouble #3)

But she touched my arm. There was no reason for her to do that…

I run out after her.

The heat blasts me, and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust. Damn, the desert takes some getting used to. It’s not even noon, and it’s so hot that I feel like I’m on another planet. Finally, I spot Catherine throwing her bag in the trunk of an all white Civic.

“Hey!” I run over, already building up a sweat again.

She stops with her door open, leaning on it, eying me up and down. “Hey, yourself.”

“Where you headed?”

“Home. Lunch. Then work. I’ve got patients this afternoon.” A curious look comes over her face. “You got somewhere to be?”

I look out at the desert. “Staying at a motel about three miles that way. It’s on the same road.”

“Must be a crappy one if it’s on this road.”

“It’s not bad.”

She scans the parking lot. “Where’s your car?”

I smile, laugh, and shake my head.

“What? How’d you get to the gym?”

“I ran.”

“In this heat!? How are you getting here tomorrow?”

I jog in place and shrug. “Good warm-up.”

“In the morning, sure,” she sighs. “But you can’t be running when it’s a hundred and ten degrees out. God, we’ll be pumping you full of electrolytes. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

“Doesn’t that break your dad’s rule?”

Catherine narrows her eyes at me. “You think him or anyone else can tell me who I can and can’t give rides to?”

Hardness runs in this family.

“Nope.”

“Then get in.”

I can only hope that she feels the same about dating…

Catherine’s car is clean and new. It smells like her. She grabs a gym rag from the trunk before hopping in. “Don’t get sweat all over my seats.”

“Sorry.” I turn in my seat. “This is a really nice car.”

“It’s all right. Gets me from point A to point B.”

“I’ve never had a car.”

The engine hums to life, pleasant and quiet.

Catherine rests her hand on the steering wheel, peering at me.

“Are there any happy facts about yourself you’d like to share?

So far, all I know about you is that you didn’t have parents, were stabbed as a teenager, you’ve never had a car, and got kicked out of the Navy. Are all orphans this destitute?”

I can’t help but smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I say. “OK. Happy fact?”

“Please.” She pulls out onto the road, turning up the air conditioning that’s already blowing ice. “Your life can’t all be all bad.”

“Well, today, I met this cool girl in the gym…”

Catherine sneaks a glance at me, biting her lower lip. “Happiest moment of your life, huh?”

I just laugh.

How can I tell her that it’s the truth?

Smooth electronic music thumps through the speakers.

She taps her fingers on the wheel as we cruise down the road.

Outside, the sun is beating everything into submission.

The desert is like an oven every time I walk outside.

Tinted windows and air conditioning protect us from the heat, but none of it can stop this fire radiating in me.

I feel so warm in her presence.

Cold winters in Philly were always the loneliest, hardest times in my life. Less street fights when snow is falling and the streets are icy, but something about those gray days, frigid storms, and long nights always made me aware of my place in the world.

I’m nothing, nobody. Not even the sun feels like it’s meant to light up my life.

Catherine, from the way she laughs to her emerald eyes, makes me feel like I’m at the center of the universe, like all life is revolving around me and this moment, waiting to see what I’ll do.

I could ride in this car with her all day, listening to her sing softly, watching those delicate fingers strum the steering wheel.

“What are you staring at?”

Her angelic voice pulls me from my rapture.

We’re stopped at a red light. Catherine is looking at me like I just fell asleep and drooled all over her leather seats.

“Sorry…” I avert my gaze out the window. “Zoned out. Keep going. It’s the place with the big cactus on the sign.”

“You’re staying there ?”

She makes it sound like it’s a local hellhole.

“Is that bad?”

“Not if you’re into meth or prostitution.” She gives me a side-eye.

“Just boxing—promise.”

I wasn’t picky when I found a place to stay. Honestly, if it weren’t so hot, I would have slept on the street until I could afford an apartment. But even a motel’s rickety air conditioning is better than the frying-pan sidewalk. Besides, I don’t know these streets like I know Philly.

We pull up into the parking lot. It’s a one-story building that wraps in a U-shape around the lot, broken pavement and dirt fighting for space.

It’s the kind of rundown place I expected to find in the desert for only twenty-five bucks a night.

A couple of dudes are sitting on an old sofa in front of one of the rooms, smoking and drinking under the building’s shade.

I already sized them up when I got the room: nothing I can’t handle.

“You couldn’t find a nicer place?” Catherine asks, pulling into a spot.

She parked.

If she wanted me to hop out and go, she wouldn’t have parked. I don’t make a move to get out, happy to stay with her as long as she lets me (the air conditioning is the cherry on top).

“It’s cheap,” I say, running my fingers through my beard. “If I’m gonna find an apartment, I got to save the money I have. I haven’t locked down a job out here yet. You know of any part-time gigs hiring? Warehouses?”

“It would be better if you focused on training. My dad thinks you can go far, but he’s going to run you ragged. Seriously, he’s going to beat the hell out of you. I-I shouldn’t tell you this, but he wants to slot you for a fight in seven weeks.”

I lurch up in my seat. “That fast? For real?”

“Yeah. And there’s always money involved, even if you lose. A lot more if you win, though. I’m telling you, training with him will be hard . Are you sure you can’t survive that long without working? I don’t think you’ll have the energy for both.”

I lean back, staring at the door to my room. Nothing is waiting for me in there. Just some clothes and toiletries. I rode a Greyhound out here with one bag, all I’ve got in life.

“I can afford the room, but it’ll be tight,” I say, meeting her gaze. “Your old man gonna feed me, too?”

“Only when you’re training,” she sighs. “Didn’t you save any money in the Navy?”

I don’t meet her eyes. “I wasn’t in long enough.”

“Why’d you get kicked out?”

Now, I do look at her. Catherine’s green eyes are boring into me like two lie detectors. Not that I’d bullshit her…

“You really wanna know?”

She turns in her seat, waving her hand at me like a knife as she speaks, “Here’s the deal: My dad thinks you’ve got it, all right?

Nobody gets a fight this fast. I want this to work out for you and him.

If you need a place to stay until your first big paycheck, I don’t mind you sleeping on my couch—“

“For real?”

I practically dive over the center console. What sort of New Mexico magic has blessed me? I’ve been here for two days, and I’ve already got a coach, have a fight scheduled, and now the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met wants me to stay with her.

Catherine puts her hand up. “ But we need to keep it a secret. If they find out you’re crashing at my place, it’s over. They’ll flip, and you’ll need to be on the first bus out of here to dodge a beating.”

“Your old man is really serious about…” I try to keep my eyes above her lips. “You know.”

“You have no idea,” she says. “And my brother is worse. Even if nothing is going on between us, they can’t find out about this little arrangement.”

I should ask if her dad or brother would let me stay with them, but I’m not throwing away this chance to get closer to Catherine. Part of me wants to believe that she’s avoiding that question, too.

“So, we keep this between us. You can help out with groceries as payment.”

“Oh, of course. I got you.”

“ And .” She puts that hand up again. “You tell me what happened in the Navy. Why are you here, Louis?”

I drop my head back against the seat. She’d find out sooner or later, and now I can give it to her straight.

“I had a friend on my ship. Sharpe. She was cool. I don’t know, we just clicked.” Catherine’s eyes register this as something it’s not. I correct her. “It wasn’t like that—she was into girls.”

“Oh.” Catherine nods.

“We were just really tight, had each other’s backs. We were in the gym, and I caught this guy taking pictures of her while she was bent over. I saw him in the mirror—the creep was right there with his phone, snapping shots of her ass.”

I close my eyes, feeling that anger again.

“I confronted him. He lied. He kept lying to me, that fucking weasel.” My hands ball into the fists that beat him.

“Someone grabbed me from behind—one of his buddies—and I swung. Man, everything just happened . Not just fast—it was over before I even realized what I’d done.

That creep and his guy were on the ground, and my hands were raw, bloody. Both of them were officers.”

“Fuck,” Catherine sighs.

Of course. She’s a military brat. Anyone who knows the life knows an enlisted guy knocking out two officers is a career killer—usually worse.

“They tried to lie again in court,” I say.

“Those two had each other’s backs, like Sharpe and me.

A bunch of brass came out to bat for them.

It was two good-ol boys versus the kid barely a year into his enlistment.

But we had witnesses. Really, the only thing that saved me from jail time and a dishonorable discharge was the fact that we grabbed his phone while they were on the ground crying.

We had the evidence, and there was no avoiding that. ”

I find Catherine looking at me sympathetically when I open my eyes.

“That’s it.” I shrug. “The judge decided that it was a fucking mess, and all three of us got the boot. Neutral discharges for everyone to avoid a bigger scandal.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It could have been worse. If we hadn’t grabbed his phone, or if the witnesses hadn’t said that one officer grabbed me before I threw the first punch, I’d probably be in a military prison. Those guys had all the pull. I was just some enlisted punk with bloody knuckles to match their bruises.”

Catherine slaps the steering wheel, shaking her head.

I smile.

“What?” she laughs. “You tell me another horrible fact about your life, and you’re all smiles?”

“You believe me.”

“Should I not?”

I don’t say a word. How do you convince someone that you’re telling the truth?

Outside, one of those dudes on the couch throws a bottle, shattering it.

Catherine scans the parking lot before holding out her hand.

“I believe you, Louis.” She narrows her eyes. “I don’t exactly know why, but I do. Stay at my place. Buy groceries. Train hard . Don’t quit when it starts to feel like an uphill fight that’s never gonna end. And keep your mouth shut about staying with me. Deal?”

I gently take her hand, afraid of how soft it is.

“Deal.”

“Then go get your stuff and check out of his shithole,” she says, snapping her fingers. “Let’s go. Don’t make me late for my afternoon patients. I still need to eat lunch, and you’re buying.”

New Mexico magic.