Page 3

CODY

I stepped into the gym, Max at my side, my mind still tangled in what I’d just agreed to. A fake relationship. With Emily.

What the hell had I been thinking?

This wasn’t like me. I didn’t get involved in things that didn’t concern me, especially not with people I barely knew. I kept to myself. It was safer, but something about Emily pulled me in like a rip current. That Trey guy rubbed me the wrong way from the second he opened his privileged mouth, and when he’d looked at her like she was just another one of his fancy toys, something in me snapped. Before I even realized what I was doing, I had my hand on her waist, standing between her and him like I had every right to be there.

Now, I had to follow through.

I clenched my jaw and exhaled through my nose. It wasn’t real. It was all for show, a temporary thing to keep Trey off her back. That was the only reason I’d agreed to it. It wasn’t because Emily made the gym feel a little brighter when she walked in or because I sort of liked being around her these past couple days.

I shook my head, pushing the thought away.

Max bumped my leg with his nose, like he could sense I wasn’t feeling at ease. I reached down, running a hand over his fur.

Ryder had been the one to give me Max, back when I was struggling just to function outside the ring. After everything I’d been through serving overseas, I’d thought I could handle life all on my own. I was wrong. The nightmares, waking up in a cold sweat with anxiety making my hands shake. I’d kept it all bottled up, convinced I could fight my way through it. Max had helped in ways I hadn’t even realized I needed. He was the reason I could step into a crowded gym or live event without feeling like the walls were closing in.

Emily had taken it in stride when I told her Max had to be with me. She didn’t question or make a weird comment like some people did. That had thrown me more than anything.

But it didn’t mean she actually liked it. Or me.

I wasn’t the smooth, charismatic type like some of the other Fury Combat league fighters. I barely talked when I didn’t have to. So why would someone like Emily—upbeat, social, pretty—want anything to do with a guy like me?

I was still chewing on the thought when I caught movement near my favorite punching bag.

Trey.

He was standing beside it, watching me with a smirk that made my fists itch.

Great.

He stood with his arms crossed like he belonged here. Like he was one of us. My hands instinctively started to curl into fists, but I forced them to relax.

Max let out a low chuff, sensing my mood.

“You lost?” I asked, my voice flat.

Trey studied me with the kind of arrogant expression that made me itch to knock it clean off his face. “Just wanted to get a closer look at the guy Emily’s parading around.”

I stared him down. “And?”

“Still trying to figure out what she sees in you.” He moved his head up and down, making a show of sizing me up.

I’d been around guys like Trey before, men who thought they could walk into any room and take up space they hadn’t earned. He didn’t intimidate me. He just annoyed the hell out of me.

I turned toward the locker room, ready to be done with this waste of time, but his voice followed me.

“Watch yourself around Emily. She’s got enough on her plate without you complicating things.”

I stilled.

Something dark and instinctive surged inside me, a protective fire that took me by surprise. It had nothing to do with the fact that Trey was her ex or how he’d suddenly decided he wanted to be a father, even though that pissed me off, too. It was about Emily herself, her determination, her bright spirit, the way she kept standing even when life threw shit at her.

I sure as hell didn’t like the way he talked about her, insulting her one second and then pretending to be her guardian the next. He needed to run his feet like he ran his mouth and get the fuck away from me before I showed him exactly how we take punches here at Warriors Den.

I turned back to him, my voice low and controlled. “Emily’s stronger than you think. She doesn’t need you acting like you’re fighting her battles.”

Trey scoffed. “Is that why you’re with her now? Because of her little charity project?”

I met his gaze. He shifted his feet when I took a few seconds longer to answer. “I like Em.” I shortened her name, the way I heard her friend Ava say it, even though I was nowhere near friend status with Emily. Trey didn’t need to know that. “And I’m going to like helping her on Family Day.”

“Right.” His voice was soaked in sarcasm. “Just remember where you stand, Stone.”

He turned and strolled toward the exit like he had nothing to prove, but his words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I watched as he slid into his black Lamborghini, revved the engine like some kind of power move, and sped off.

“Asshole,” I muttered under my breath.

Max nudged my leg, and I ran a hand over his head, grounding myself.

Trey was full of shit, but I could put him out of my mind for the time being. Emily stuck with me. Since seeing her again after a year, something shifted inside me that I wasn’t sure I was ready to name.

EMILY

I STOOD IN FRONT OF my closet, arms crossed, my lower lip caught between my teeth. For someone who spent her days making decisions at City Hall, I sure was struggling over what to wear tonight.

"Why do you look like you're about to negotiate a peace treaty instead of picking an outfit?"

I glanced over at my mother, who sat on the edge of my bed with an amused smile. She owned one of the trendiest boutiques in town, so naturally, she had opinions about fashion with a capital O.

"I just want to look nice.”

She hummed knowingly, standing and heading straight for my closet. A moment later, she pulled out a fitted sweater and matching skirt set in a deep autumn orange shade. "This. Cute, put together, and it shows off those legs I gave you."

I rolled my eyes but took the outfit anyway. "Thanks, Mama."

As I dressed in front of the mirror, Mama gave me a pointed look. "So, when were you going to tell me you were dating one of those hunky wrestlers?"

I spritzed on a little bit of perfume and sighed. "MMA fighters, Mama."

She waved a dismissive hand. "I see you didn't correct me about them being hunky."

I hesitated, my mind flickering to Cody and his strong, quiet presence, the way he didn’t hesitate to step in and help me get Trey off my back.

"I guess they’re attractive, if you like the muscular, athletic type." I admitted, trying not to sound too interested. “It's not a big deal. Cody is just going to the open mic with me tonight."

As soon as the words left my mouth, a knock sounded at the door. My stomach flipped.

"He's here early," I said, suddenly panicked.

Mama patted my shoulder. "Go ahead and answer it. I'm going to check to see if Oliver got into his pajamas."

I nodded, exhaling as I turned toward the front door. My heart pounded just a little harder than it should have for a fake date.

I shoved my feet into my low top Nikes, barely taking a moment to glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. My stomach fluttered with nerves, though I told myself it was just because of the event, not because Cody was waiting on the other side of the door.

When I opened it, my breath hitched for half a second.

He stood there in a button-up shirt and jeans, his normally scruffy jaw freshly shaved, and his hair neatly combed.

"You clean up good," I said, tilting my head as I took him in.

His eyes flicked over me in return, and for a brief moment, something warm sparked there. "You're pretty.”

Before I could decide how to respond, Mama appeared at the top of the stairs, waving.

Cody waved back. "I see where you get your looks from."

"Ah, he knows what's up," Mama teased, winking at me.

I hid my smile before turning back to Cody. "My mother is in a playful mood tonight. Ready to go?"

"Sure." He stepped back to let me lock up, and we started toward his truck.

"Oliver's getting ready for bed," I told him as we walked. "I'll introduce you two later, or he'll want to talk about MMA all night."

"I wouldn’t mind. I know MMA. This public charity stuff? No clue."

I glanced over at him as we reached his pickup. "It’s just an appearance tonight. We don’t have to say anything."

But as I climbed inside, smoothing my skirt over my legs, a twinge of doubt settled in. This was my first time stepping out with Cody in public. What had I just gotten myself into?

Cody drove us to the comedy club. When we went inside, it buzzed with energy. The low hum of conversation mixed with bursts of laughter from the stage. The place had a warm, intimate feel. Exposed brick walls, dim lighting, and round tables clustered near the spotlight. I was just about to relax when I spotted a familiar face moving toward us with a microphone in hand.

Herb Caldwell, a local news anchor, was grinning as if he’d just found gold.

"Cody Stone," Herb called out, waving for his cameraman to follow. "Mind if we get a quick shot?"

Before I could react, Max stepped in, placing himself between Cody and the camera. His posture was calm but firm, his head slightly lowered, tail still. Protective.

I moved quickly, stepping in front of Cody and putting on my most charming public relations smile. "Herb, hey," I said, my voice light and warm. "We’re just here to enjoy the event tonight. No press, no interviews, okay?"

Herb, undeterred, shifted to angle his mic toward Cody. "Come on, just a quick photo."

"This isn’t the time," I interrupted. "But Family Day will be perfect for that. Check the website tomorrow for an official announcement." Then, leaning ever so slightly toward the camera, I added with a wink, "And I’ll be on your morning show to talk about it soon, right?"

Herb hesitated, realizing he’d just been outmaneuvered. He had to stick to the schedule, and he knew it.

"Right," he muttered, forcing a smile. "Enjoy your evening." He turned away, already scanning the room for his next target.

I exhaled, turning back to Cody. "Let’s get our table."

He gave me a look, one I couldn’t quite decipher, but followed me as I led him through the club. A hostess greeted us and, at my request, led us to a quieter corner near the stage where we had a good view but a little more privacy.

Once we were seated, Cody let out a breath. "Thanks. I don’t like cameras in my face too much, even for work."

"I can’t imagine all those cameras and lights." I watched as he ran a hand over his shirt sleeve, already looking a little restless.

"It’s only because I like to fight," he said, his voice quieter. "It got harder after I got back home from service."

Something in the way he said it made me want to know more, to understand the weight behind his words. Before I could ask, the next comedian took the stage, and the room filled with applause.

I glanced at Cody one more time, making a silent note to revisit this later. For now, we turned our attention to the stage as the night began.

About an hour passed. Time had gone surprisingly smoothly. Between the laughter from the stage, the casual conversation, and the steady presence of Cody beside me, I felt more at ease than I had in a while. Even Max had settled in, sprawled comfortably at Cody’s feet. The waiter brought our drinks and appetizers without issue. He even delivered a bone-shaped biscuit on a little napkin for Max.

Cody looked surprised. "Nice touch," he muttered, giving the waiter an approving nod before handing Max the treat.

After the open mic portion of the evening was over, we headed back to my house. Now, as we pulled up to the driveway, the evening winding to an end, I felt a quiet satisfaction settle in. Cody had been more relaxed tonight, and I liked seeing that side of him.

"You thought of everything," he said as he walked me to the front door. His tone was light, but there was something appreciative underneath it.

"It’s my job," I replied with a small smile, feeling warmth spread through me at the way he noticed. Behind us, Max stuck his head out of the truck window, ears perked up, making me chuckle.

Cody stopped a step behind me. "It’s your gift," he corrected. "I mean it. Thanks for making this a little easier for me. And for being nice to Max."

Something about the sincerity in his voice made my stomach flip. I hadn’t expected gratitude. My fingers fumbled as I turned the key in the lock, suddenly feeling the need to look anywhere but at him.

"Of course," I said, focusing on the doorknob. "He’s a busy boy, sticking by his human." I glanced over my shoulder and gave him a small smile. "Thank you for taking the time to do this."

Our eyes met in the quiet of the night, something unspoken passing between us. Before I could say anything else, the door creaked open, and a blur of movement shot toward us.

Oliver, clad in his favorite dinosaur-print pajamas, skidded to a halt in the doorway. His eyes went so wide I thought they might pop out of his head. “You’re Cody Stone,” he blurted.

I pressed a finger to my lips. “Inside voice, honey. It’s late.”

He barely heard me, too busy staring up at Cody like he’d just met his favorite superhero.

Cody chuckled, nodding at him. “Hey, kid.”

I sighed, rubbing Oliver’s shoulder. “This is my son, Oliver, who should be in bed.”

“I’m on it,” Mama called from the kitchen. “Just heating up some milk.”

Oliver turned back to Cody, practically bouncing on his toes. “Mom, this is so cool! Are you ready for the Intercontinental?”

Cody leaned against the doorframe, his tone easy. “Training for it right now. Well... not right now. Your mom took me to a comedy club tonight.”

Oliver scrunched his nose like he couldn’t imagine why anyone would pick jokes over a perfectly good fight. “That’s cool, I guess. Can you show me how to do a roundhouse?”

“We have to let Mr. Cody get ready for his big fight,” I reminded him gently. “We’ll see him at Family Day.”

“It’s all right,” Cody said, glancing at me. “I can teach him a couple of moves. I mean, only if you’re okay with it.”

Oliver grabbed my arm, tugging. “Yeah, Mom. You said I could take karate soon. Cody can show me how he kicks.”

As if to prove his point, Oliver attempted his best kick, followed by a quick, wobbly punch.

Cody nodded approvingly. “That’s a right jab. You seem like a tough little guy. How about we try some kicks in the park this Sunday?”

Oliver gasped like he’d just won the lottery.

I blinked, caught off guard by the casual offer. “Uh... yeah. We can make it a little picnic.”

“Yesss!” Oliver jumped in place, pumping his fist.

“Oliver,” I said, trying to reel things back in, “get inside and drink your milk. Then go to bed.”

Mama waved him toward the kitchen. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s let the grown folks talk.”

With one last wide-eyed look at Cody, Oliver finally obeyed, leaving us alone on the porch.

I exhaled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” Cody shrugged. “He seems like a good kid. Should be fun.”

“I want to respect your time while you train for your upcoming fight.”

“Sunday’s my easy day. I’ll hit the gym in the morning, then meet you guys for lunch at noon. Sound good?”

I wasn’t used to men who made decisions easily. It was kind of nice. “Sounds great. I’ll bring the food. Got a favorite snack?”

“As long as it’s high in protein.”

“Guess we’ll see what I come up with, then.”

Max let out a low huff from the truck, as if reminding Cody they had places to be.

I grinned. “I think Max is looking forward to it, too.”

Cody glanced over at his furry friend. “He just thinks there’ll be food.”

I laughed, stepping back toward the door. “If he likes peanut butter, he might be in luck.”

Cody turned toward his truck. “See you Sunday, Emily.”

I lingered in the doorway, watching as he climbed in. Max stuck his head out again, his big eyes tracking me as if making sure I was still there.

And I was.

Even after the truck disappeared down the street, I stood there, arms wrapped around myself.

“Well, well, well,” Mama’s voice came from behind me. “That looked a lot like a good date.”

I groaned, turning toward the kitchen. “It was nice .

“Mmhmm. I saw a certain someone getting all flustered when a certain hunky fighter invited himself to a picnic.”

I grabbed a cookie from the counter and took a dramatic bite. “Mama. Please.”

Her teasing softened as she leaned against the counter. “I know you work hard, but you should think about yourself, too. I’m glad you seemed like you enjoyed yourself tonight.”

I swallowed, not sure how to respond. I didn’t want to admit to her that this was just fake dating for the press. I wasn’t even sure I believed that anymore.

Instead, I forced a small smile. “I’m happy for Oliver.” I changed the subject quickly. “He’ll probably never go to sleep now.”

As I moved to clear away the last of the cookie crumbs, I found my gaze drifting toward the window. The street was empty, Cody’s truck long gone.

I knew I’d be up for a while... thinking about him anyway.