Page 29 of It Takes a Thief
“Hey, Mikey, good to see you.” His gaze slides over to Merritt, and I instantly tense. I don’t want anyone looking at her, much less thinking she’s available. “This is Merritt…my girlfriend.”
Her eyes meet mine and I squeeze her hand.Just play along, I mentally tell her. Like the good girl she is, Mer smiles at me then turns to Mikey. “Nice to meet you,” she says.
Mikey and I talk for a few minutes, but I keep looking down at Mer, making sure she’s okay, that she’s comfortable. Her blue eyes are comically wide as she takes the scene in. Although I’ve been to these kinds of things a thousand times, and fought in more than I can count, I have to remind myself this is all new to her. And I’m going to make sure she has one helluva good time tonight.
“You know this guy is a local celebrity, right?” Mikey asks Merritt, nudging my arm.
“Shut it,” I grumble.
“Really?” She tilts her head in that adorable way of hers and studies me closely.
“Don’t be modest. Linc ‘Lights Out’ Decker holds the record for most TKO’s around here.”
“My record still holds?” That’s cool. I certainly didn’t expect that.
“Hell yeah. When he left us and went pro, he snagged one win after another. Has he let you see his UFC title belts yet?” Mikey tosses her a wink.
“Okay, enough,” I say, pulling her against my side and wrapping a possessive arm around her waist. Sending a clear message—she’s mine. “We need to find a good viewing spot.”
“Try over there.” Mikey points to an area that looks slightly less crowded.
I lift my chin in acknowledgement, and we head in that direction, passing a line of kegs.
“Can we get a drink?” Merritt asks.
“You can, but don’t forget, I’m technically working.”
“Then you can just have a sip of mine,” she says with a flirty smile.
A busty blonde in a half-shirt and scandalously-short denim cutoffs turns to us. “What can I get you, big guy?”
I pull out my wallet and order one beer. “Keep the change,” I tell her, exchanging the money for a red cup filled to the brim with cheap beer. I’ve definitely had my fill of cheap beer over the years, and sometimes it tastes pretty damn good. Particularly after a few cups. But I doubt my princess ever tasted the joy that can come from a watered down, slightly bitter cup of two-dollar beer.
“Thank you,” Merritt exclaims as I hand it to her. “I rarely drink beer.”
“Seems like you’re more of a wine or champagne girl.” Because she’s classy like that.
“True, but every now and then, I like to get down and dirty.” She sends me a flirty smirk and takes a big gulp.
That naughty smirk makes my dick perk up.Keep it together, Decker.
The place is packed, and the first fight is about to start. I take her hand again, push through the throng, and lead her over to the side. The fight area is enclosed by stacked hay bales, but right now it’s way too crowded to get close. A bell goes off and the onlookers surge forward in excitement, pumping their fists and cheering.
As the announcer in the ring introduces the first two fighters, I see Merritt get jostled. She’s up on her tiptoes and I doubt she can see a thing. Leaning down, I brush her hair back and put my mouth near her ear so she can hear me better. “Can you see anything?”
“Not really,” she admits, struggling to peer over the shoulders of a couple of tall guys in front of us.
“Get on my shoulders,” I tell her, dropping down into a squat. She hesitates for a split second, then hands me her beer and grabs onto my other hand with both of hers. I help her climb up, and once she’s seated, legs wrapped around my neck, I stand up and hand her cup back. “Better?”
“Much! Oh, my gosh, I can see everything.”
“Good.” I’m actually glad we aren’t too close. The fights can get brutal—I have the scars to prove it—and I don’t want Mer in the danger zone where she could get splashed with blood. My hands wrap around her calves and I squeeze. “If it gets too much for you, let me know. We’ll leave.”
She bends down, her soft lips brushing my ear. “Leave? Are you kidding me?” Sitting back up, she yells, “I wanna see a fight!”
The guys in front of us shout in agreement, and I chuckle. My princess is a firecracker.
Maybe I shouldn’t think of her as mine, but I don’t care. For as long as I’m with her, she’s mine to protect, mine to guard, mine to keep safe.
