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Garth’s gaze darkens. “Look, this isn’t a UFC fight—I don’t have control over what everyone does in retirement.”
“Maybe not, but it could be dangerous. For me and for him.”
“Jesus, you’re still a Boy Scout, aren’t you?”
I narrow my gaze at him. “I don’t know what the fuck that’s supposed to mean, but yeah, I have a thing about rules. Especially when my safety is on the line.”
“Love has made you a little soft, eh?”
I tense for a second, but then Luna surreptitiously squeezes my thigh, reminding me I don’t have to take the bait. I don’t owe him anything, certainly not details about my relationship. Because I can’t think about a single thing that could ever make me “soft.”
“Creeping up toward forty has made me conscientious about my health,” I reply slowly. “I would think you, of all people, would understand that.” He retired because of multiple concussions. The doctors warned him another one could cause permanent brain damage—he chose to walk away. Now he’s suddenly acting like we’re all invincible.
He must sense my annoyance because he holds up a hand in a placating gesture. “No, you’re right. I do understand. And there will be rules in place—we just haven’t gotten that far. I’ll talk to him, on the down low, get a feel for what he’s been up to. This is about raising money for charity. Obviously, we don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“It’s going to be amazing,” Candy interjects breathlessly. Then she launches into an explanation about everything they have planned. The silent auction and all the donations she’s already procured, which would take place as a kind of meet and greet the evening before the fights. The champagne brunch the morning after. The celebrities signing on with donations and appearances. She drops a few names that are genuinely impressive. Maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.
“It sounds wonderful,” Luna says warmly. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’d love to.”
“Let me think about it,” Candy says eagerly. “I’m sure I could use you somewhere, especially in the days leading up to the event. There are going to be a million details to take care of.”
“Well, count me in.”
Things are more relaxed after that, and it reminds me of the days when Garth was mentoring me. Telling fun stories about fights, women he dated, and all the places he got to travel to. I note that he doesn’t mention his wife, and I wonder if that’s in deference to Candy or if it’s just too painful.
“Do you have children?” Luna asks at one point.
The expression on Garth’s face is hard to read, a strange combination of regret and…fear? It’s weird, because he’s not a man I’ve ever seen show fear. Then it’s gone and his lips thin sadly.
“No. By the time I met Marissa, I think it was too late. We didn’t know right away, of course, although the infertility issues should have been our first clue that something was wrong. Then the cancer diagnosis and they had to take everything out. It took a few years to kill her, but we never had the chance. I guess that’s a blessing in disguise. I don’t know that I’d be a great single dad.”
Candy reaches over and puts a hand over his. “You’d be better than you think. Most of us learn to dig deep for the important stuff.”
“Well, I’m too old now,” he says. “Any woman I’m with has to be okay with no kids. I can’t see starting over with an infant in my fifties.”
“I’m too busy for babies anyway,” Candy says. “Not to mention it would ruin my body, which is how I make a living.”
“Speaking of making a living,” Garth turns to me. “You happy doing the bodyguard thing? I could hook you up in the fighting world. You’d make a great agent.”
“I own part of the business,” I say with a shrug. “And this is what I do.”
“You and Grim?” he asks knowingly.
I nod. “Yup. We’ve put together a good team, with a great support network. I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about the fight? You in? Come on—it’ll be fun. And you know you want to.”
It’s a little disconcerting that freakin’ everyone seems to know how much I love to fight. Because I do. The issue is that I have a job that requires me to be in the best shape possible—I can’t spend weeks recovering from bruised or broken ribs, kidneys or whatever other injuries are prevalent in those kinds of fights. And Bronco could put a hurt on me if I’m not prepared.
“I’d like to,” I say carefully, “but I do have to check my schedule. There’s an actress who needs protection on a movie set in Vancouver next month, and a few other commitments we have to split up. Give me twenty-four hours to sit down with everyone and look at the schedule.”
“Absolutely.” Garth nods but I can see in his eyes he believes it’s a done deal.
And the worst part—he’s probably right.
Chapter Twenty-One
Luna
