Neal leaned toward him. “That’s the owner of Riverside. Roger Trygg.”
Shit.Hewas the owner? The guy looked every bit the high society asshole.
As they neared the table, Kieran shot to his feet, intent on helping Lily with her chair.
“No, no.” Roger waved him off with calm confidence. “Allow me, Mr. Sullivan.” The man lifted Lily’s hand from his arm, kissed the back of it and held on as she lowered herself into her chair on Kieran’s right.
Lily thanked him, her cheeks flushed, and discreetly drew her seat closer to the table and to Kieran. “Let’s never split up again,” she whispered.
Relief trickled through his body. “Agreed.”
As waiters swooped around the tables to deliver salads, Roger kissed the cheek of the woman Kieran had helped seat, then the man sat down beside her. The woman procured the briefest of smiles before politely nibbling at her salad. Despite being draped in luxury, she looked like she’d rather be on a private island than at the charity event.
“How’s it feel being back in the saddle, Sullivan?” One of the men across the table, a square-jawed man with a buzz cut, tipped his chin toward Kieran. Herrera. The guy was younger than him. Leaner. The video clips of his fights were hard to find on StreamScene, but they all featured Herrera as a tireless fighter who would have gone big, if not for an injury to his ACL. The guy’s cardio could probably go on for days. If Kieran had to go up against him, he’d have to adjust his own strategy.
“Like I never left.”
A complete lie. While he was still a good fighter, he was naturally heavier than he’d been in his fighting days. He’d had to work all spring and summer just to make weight for the fight. Despite his best efforts to keep his body limber, he couldn’t stop time.
Lily’s hand settled on his thigh. She gave the muscle a squeeze and shared an encouraging smile. “I’ve gone through all your old footage. I think you’re even stronger now.”
While they waited for the main course, Neal and Roger swapped humorous anecdotes about the goings-on in their gyms. When Roger mentioned his facility’s pool and café, Lily perked up.
“Do you offer group classes?”
Roger leaned back in his chair with an indulgent grin aimed only at Lily. “Why, yes. We have a full schedule of classes throughout the day for group fitness. Zumba, yoga, spinning, kickboxing. You name it, we’ve got it.” He sipped his wine. His gaze swept over Lily before he continued. “In fact, we’re looking into starting an aerial silks class. You’re welcome to come by anytime to check it out, of course.”
Of course.Bile rose in Kieran’s throat. It would be just like a rich fucker to give a younger woman a standing invitation to his gym right in front of his wife. For all appearances, it seemed a polite gesture, but Kieran knew better. So, too, did his wife, judging by the frosty glare she cut the man from below lowered lashes.
Herrera leaned in with a shark’s grin. “Could you imagine the videos you could make off an aerials class? People eat that shit up.”
Lily’s hand tightened on his thigh, and Kieran threaded his fingers through hers. She flushed prettily and ducked her head. “I’m sure they’d be lovely, but my heart’s with South Side MMA.”
Her words weren’t intended for him, but that didn’t stop hope from leaping into his throat and cutting off all words. He was an idiot. An absolute idiot.
Roger swirled the wine in his glass, but his eyes were on Lily. “Is there nothing that might entice you away from our dear friend Neal?”
“Roger, I’m right here,” Neal protested, his laugh at odds with the slant of his thick brows.
Lily wet her lips and glanced quickly at Kieran. Her hesitation betrayed her earlier assertion. She was considering leaving.
It should have made him happy. If Lily left South Side MMA, he wouldn’t have to end their arrangement. In fact, they could have more than just an arrangement. It wasn’t like he hadn’t considered it before.
But if Lily left… He couldn’t even fathom it. In a single summer, she’d become the face of their little gym.
Dinner arrived. Center cut filet mignon with a shallot mushroom red wine reduction served with roasted baby potatoes and sauteed seasonal vegetables. For the vegetarians, some kind of rotini. The food was indulgent and decadent, and each bite of it spoiled on his tongue the longer he watched Roger attempt to dazzle Lily.
Through it all, Lily maintained her smile, but at no point did she tell him she wasn’t interested. Nor did she say she was.
She was playing a game, and Kieran couldn’t figure out which side she’d choose.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
Lake Huron’s cold blue waters slipped around Lily’s ankles and caressed her calves with every wave. She tilted her head back and breathed in the crisp morning air. The heavy, acrid scent of the city had remained in Chicago. On Mackinac Island, under clear skies and surrounded by water, there was only the scent of dewdrops and fog.
She tore her gaze away from the scarlet-and-orange sky and glanced toward the sandy shore.
Kieran sat amidst the marram grass. The long golden rods stretched up then bent, brushing against his shoulder in the breeze. His right arm crossed over his knee, and between his legs dangled a water bottle. In his left hand was his phone—the camera trained on her.
