Chapter 4 #2
“It’s a rite of passage,” I explain. “It’s played on everyone’s first fight at Bell’s. Owner’s rules.”
“And my first fight is against a bag of sand?”
“Nah, that thing’s full of cut-up shirts and fabric scraps from the lost and found.”
She rolls her eyes as she pokes the bag. “It isn’t.”
“It is. Maybe a few mouse carcasses. Now, put your whole body behind your punch. The strength comes from your core, not your arm. You want to twist your hip and rotate your shoulder as you strike. Give it your all.”
She scrunches her nose, which is cute as hell, then rounds up and hits the bag. It moves about four inches.
Her eyes widen, and she jumps a little on her feet. “I hit it, and it moved.”
I nearly laugh, but she’s so damned proud of herself I’m not going to piss on her parade. “You’re a regular Rocky. You want me to keep the music on for round two?”
She glances at the phone, considering, and nods. “Yeah, I’ve always liked this song.”
I’m smiling as she positions herself to throw another punch. This time, the bag moves five inches.
“You hit it harder,” I point out.
She beams at me. “I did, didn’t I?”
The song ends, and I restart it, getting a smile from her.
After she does another rep, I point to her other hand. “How about we switch it up?”
I help her get situated, and she practices a few rounds with her left fist. When I catch her thinking a bit too hard about it, I say, “Harder. Imagine my face is printed across the bag.”
She’s laughing as she punches fictional me in the nose.
She pulls back from the bag and smiles broadly at me—and I can’t do a damn thing to keep myself from smiling back. “You broke my nose.”
“You think?”
“At least a sprain.” My grin spreads wider. “Let’s keep going.”
She seems to be hitting her stride, and it doesn’t take long for me to guide her into a rhythm of alternating between hands, jab and cross, jab and cross, breathing with each punch.
As she attacks the bag, I sense something changing in her.
She’s feeling less broken by what happened to her tonight, more motivated.
It’s…well…I’ve got no desire to look away.
“What do you say, slugger? Are you ready to pack it in?”
She takes the gloves off and flexes her hands, which are pink across the knuckles. I turn off the fourth rep of “Eye of the Tiger” and pocket my phone.
“An ice pack will help if it bothers you,” I suggest. “Or a bag of frozen food.”
Briar holds the gloves in one hand, her big eyes peering up at me. “Thank you for being so nice to me, Liam.”
All I can do is laugh. “Princess, if this is what you think good behavior is, you need someone to show you a good time.”
I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, but from the way her expression shifts, she heard the innuendo too.
“I meant you should have higher expectations, that’s all,” I clarify.
“Thank you,” she says again. “This is exactly what I needed tonight.”
“Does this mean I get a raise?” I ask as I reclaim the gloves from her.
She smiles up at me. “You don’t even know what I’m offering to pay you.”
“So you can lie and tell me I’m getting a raise. I’ll never know the difference.”
“I’m going to be nothing but honest with you,” she says, her expression serious. “Something tells me you value that.”
“I do,” I reply softly. I know I should move, but I feel rooted in place, unable to take my eyes off her. It’s like she saw past all of my bullshit, down to the core of me.
But no man likes to feel weak in his favorite gym, so I get it together and lead the way back to the supply shelf. I wipe down the gloves and shove them in their place.
“Now, what else do you do when you’ve had a bad day?
Drink with your friends? Would you like me to bring you back to Hannah and Sophie?
You’ve probably got a dozen messages from them on your phone by now.
I should warn you, though, my sister might be a half-pint, but she can drink most grown men under the table. ”
She considers the offer for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d like to go home, if that’s okay. Can you drive me to my car?”
“Let me guess, it’s parked at my future place of employment?”
She nods. “Should we talk about the brewery on the way over?”
“No, Princess, there’ll be time for all of that. For now, there’s something else you should know about being the boss.”
She gives me a wry look. “Oh, really? And you would know this from personal experience?”
“That attitude will get you everywhere,” I say, leading her out to the dumpy lobby area.
I hand over my coat when we reach the coatrack, and she puts it back on, rolling her eyes.
“Before you hire anyone else, come up with a plan for how you want to run the brewery,” I continue. “Then we can talk about my ideas and Tom, Dick, and Harry’s ideas.”
“Why do you think I’m only hiring men?” she asks, wrapping the coat more tightly around her as we step out into the night.
I grin at her. “There you go, assuming poor Tom, Dick, and Harry aren’t women.”
She gives another surprised laugh as I hustle her into the truck.
We don’t talk much on the way to her car, but when “Eye of the Tiger” plays on the radio, she makes a little cooing sound like she’s a damn dove. I turn up the volume.
I park behind her brewery, across from the spacious outdoor beer garden, and check out the only car still in the lot—a red Mini Cooper I probably couldn’t fold myself into.
She shifts in her seat, clearly intent on making some kind of pronouncement.
“Don’t thank me again,” I insist. “I’ve reached my daily quota.”
Smiling, she pulls the hair band out of her hair, freeing the gorgeous waves of gold across her shoulders. Then she shrugs off the coat, folds it, and leans over to put it in the tight back seat.
My mouth goes dry again as she finishes by presenting the hair band to me. “Goodnight, Liam. I’m glad we’ll be working together.”
“Me too, Princess. You tell me when I’m getting started, and I’ll pull the trigger and leave Big Catch. I’ve been looking forward to quitting this job for four years.”
“You’ve only been there for four years,” she says, laughing. It’s a light, tinkling sound, like a damn jingle bell. I had no clue a human being could sound that way.
Shaking off the thought, I say, “Then you can imagine how beat up I am about leaving.”
“I don’t know if working at Silver Star will be much better.”
I arch my eyebrows. “Not with that attitude it won’t. Make your plan for the brewery. I look forward to hearing about it.”
She smiles one final time before she gets out of the truck and steps into the night, heading over to her tiny vehicle.
I lift the hair band to my nose and sniff like a chump. It smells like lilacs.
I slip it around my wrist, feeling like this favor Hannah asked me for is going to be a hell of a lot more than I bargained for.