Savannah Past Midnight by Christine Edwards

I’ll wait
for you in the truck. I’m parked right around the corner.”
    “Thanks.”
    “You got it, brother.”
    I’m walking back toward the warehouse, peeling the
saturated wraps off my hands, when the sexiest voice on the planet
says smoothly from behind me, “Next time you might want to have
more of a say in your opponents, cowboy. That was a tight win. My
call? You got lucky.”
    I straighten my shoulders and turn around slowly, a
smile on my face. “Yeah, well I’m glad you liked the show,
babydoll. And when it comes to fightin’, I always seem to be kind
of lucky ’cause I’m that good. Surprised I didn’t see you
watchin’—then again, he had me a bit preoccupied. You lookin’ for
some company tonight, wildcat? I could definitely use an extra set
of hands cleaning up these wounds—that is, if you’re up for
it.”
    Her eyes track over my wrecked body, following the
trail of cuts and multicolored bruises. She sighs, “I don’t know if
I should be suspicious or flattered that you’ve been digging for
intel on me. What in the world am I going to do with you?”
    I give her my best devilish grin. “Anything you like,
wildcat, and hopefully it’ll be illegal in most states.”
    She laughs and shakes her head. Does she have any
clue how gorgeous she is?
    “All right, you win, again. I’ll take you home. Go
settle up and let your friend know that you have a lift.”
    “That’s all good, sugar, but your ride’s only a
single seater, remember? Can’t fit a big man like me on there with
ya.”
    “Who says I brought the motorcycle? I drove a car
tonight, and by the way, my bike is registered under a false
address. A necessary precaution against nosy cowboys.”
    “You’re a handful, you know that, princess?”
    “Better that than being dull.”
    “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
    ***
    “So I suppose that whatever you’re behind the wheel
of has gotta be somethin’ straight outta The Fast and the
Furious ?”
    Whipping the black Audi R-8 to the curb about a
hundred yards from his house, I glance over and grin at him.
“Bingo.”
    “Sweet ride, wildcat. Never been in one of these
before. Would ask what you do to be able to afford it, but not sure
I wanna go there.” He glances down at the blood stains that his
fresh injuries have left on the light-colored seat. “I’ll come back
out later and wipe down the leather, promise.”
    “Thanks for the offer, but I think your focus right
now should be on those nasty gashes of yours. Let’s get you inside
and cleaned up so there’s no possibility of infection setting in.
That place you fight in is definitely lacking in any concept of
hygiene.”
    He starts to laugh and suddenly winces, his right
hand flying up toward a particularly deep gash above his eye. “Stop
making me laugh, woman. It’s fuckin’ cruel.”
    I shut the car off, reach back and grab the bag full
of items I’ve just picked up for him from the twenty-four-hour
convenience store two blocks away. Stepping out, I go around the
back of the car, thinking that it’s witty banter like this that
draws me perilously closer to him. I’ve had several physical
relationships before, but nothing of real depth and never with
anyone who made me laugh and feel so desirable. There’s an
undeniable connection between us, a unique understanding this
brusque, mysterious human offers me that draws me into his
seductive web.
    I did my best to stay away. I really did.
    He tries to stifle a muffled groan of pain while
unfolding himself from the low slung sports car. He’s still
shirtless and his battered left hand is clutched tightly against
his ribs.
    “Hand me the keys. Let’s get you inside.”
    “They’re in the front zipper of my backpack.”
    “Got it.” I snag the keys, hand him the backpack, and
step up to his front door.
    Once inside I set the bag down on the small island. I
take out the Gatorade and Advil and place them on the wood. Within
seconds I feel his heat closing in against my