Page 79 of Finding Hope

I turn with a giddy grin.

It’s him.

I know it’s him.

Poking my head around the corner, past the front desk and into the main room, I smile and watch Jack float around the boxing ring with wet hair flopping around his face, and red shorts swinging every time his hips move.

Despite hooking up with this man a couple times, I’ve never actually seen his naked torso. The first time, we didn’t take our clothes off. The second time, his house was dark and we were in somewhat of a frantic rush.

Finally, months after the first time we met, I see the chest that’s been teasing me, but better yet, I see the sleeves of tattoos I’ve only seen glimpses of, shimmering beneath sweat and rippling over muscle.

Both arms are covered from the ball of his shoulder right down to his wrists, then from shoulder to shoulder across the top of his back and chest.

Somehow, without making a single sound, Annie’s sleeping form comes alert, and her eyes lock onto mine. Standing from her place right beside the boxing ring, she trots toward me on three legs and lets her tongue loll out to the side.

Nosing my stomach the way she does, she has me smiling and scratching her ears. Planting her butt on the floor and leaning against me, we watch her human spar and move the way I never could under pressure.

It’s loud in here; thudding fists, loud kicks, shouted instructions, and heavy metal music screaming through the speakers.

Bobby and Jon – two of the brothers I recognize from Jack’s family estate – stand on the outside of the ring and shout instructions at Jack, and the man inside the ring, a man I don’t know, smiles and dodges lethal fists.

“Wait for it.” Kit’s whispered words make me jump and tug on Annie’s ears.

“Shit!”

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I hold my chest and try to step away. Jack’s sister scares the crap out of me. “It’s alright.”

“Didn’t mean to interrupt your ogling, either.”

“No! It’s not– I wasn’t–”I was totally ogling.

Running her tongue along her teeth, she grins and lifts her hands in surrender. “I’m not judging. I used to watch Bobby train for hours. All the time. Hell, I still do. And though Jack’s my brother and quite possibly the biggest pain in my ass I know, I know he’s handsome. It’s cool.”

My heart thumps dangerously as nerves and excitement war in an effort to kill me. Watching Jack spar – sweaty and throwing meaty fists – amps my nerves up in the most amazing way. “What did you meanwait for it?”

She nods toward the ring. “Watch his hands; that left arm. He broke it about a year ago, messed it and the shoulder up pretty bad, so now, for some reason, it twitches half a second before he throws it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, it’s his tell.”

I frown. “His tell?”

“Yeah. When you’re at this level of competition, you’re fighting pretty amazing athletes. These athletes study you as much as you study them. They watch your fights. They’re looking for a tell, something,anythingto give you away before you hit them. That twitch now telegraphs that he’s going to throw a jab before he does it. Which sucks dirty dog balls for him.”

I frown and turn back to watch him. I don’t see a twitch, but Jack’s sparring partner obviously does, since he blocks every single left jab.

“But thankfully,” Kit continues quietly, “no one outside this gym has figured that out yet. We’re family here, so we keep our shit close. Wewon’t be advertising it. We’ll just keep working him until he stops, or until he gets knocked out.”

My eyes snap back to hers. “Knocked out?”

She simply smiles.

“Has he ever been knocked out before?”

“Once, professionally. A few times here. Probably once from each of his brothers.”

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