Page 35 of Strictly Off Limits


Font Size:  

She picked up her burrito and handed it to him. “Nope. Just wanted to make sure you’re ready for the fight. And I guess I never really questioned what happened that night.”

She reached up to hug her big brother, taking him by surprise, but he still wrapped her in a big bear hug. “What’s this for?”

“I just love you and think you probably could use more hugs.” She smiled, then kissed his cheek.

“For the love… now I know for sure something is up. You bring me tacos and get all mushy. What gives?”

Laughing, she grabbed her bag and made her way to the door as a few more firemen arrived.

“You know, I bet the photographer we used for the calendar wouldn’t mind giving you hugs. Her name is Megan, and she asked me if you’re single.”

“Now you’re trying to set me up on a date?”

“Maybe. I just told her I’d give you her number. The decision is yours.” She pulled the business card out of her back pocket and handed it to him. “Be safe. See you tomorrow night,” she called out.

When their mom died, their dad had shut down emotionally, even with four kids to raise. Maybe it had been his defense mechanism. She didn’t blame him, and over time he had become more affectionate again. But for years after their mom died, she and Parker did a lot of the everyday tasks: making meals, doing laundry, reading bedtime stories. The Paletti kids had a strong bond. As the only girl, Hannah often felt like she was mothering all of them, including her dad.

She had been old enough to remember lots of hugs and I love yous from her mom and that her parents had a loving marriage. She didn’t want her younger brothers to grow up without knowing how loved they were. Her mom had dedicated her short life to helping people and her family, so Hannah carried that torch in her mom’s place. Parker was the only sibling who had stronger memories than Hannah, and he probably didn’t even realize how closed off he was.

She knew deep down Parker had been really hurt at losing his friendship with Conner. While Conner worked on proving he didn’t sleep with Mariah, she needed to think of how to get both of them to admit they missed their friendship.

*

Late Friday afternoon,Hannah’s heart was running a million miles a minute. She arrived at the boxing venue as early as possible to make sure everything was ready. She wanted to be in place in case any of the vendors needed help or the surly woman who owned the venue scared off any guests. There were three rings, and they planned to have three sparring matches before Conner and Parker squared off.

Stadium seats framing two sides of the gym were set up so guests could view all three rings. They could seat about one hundred and fifty people, and had standing room for another fifty. There was limited VIP seating in front of the middle ring where mostly family and friends would sit. Maybe that had been a bad idea, because now they’d have the best view of watching their loved ones get punched, but it was too late now. The tickets were sold out, and there would be a screen showing the fights outside where a pop-up beverage truck was set up in the parking lot behind the gym. With tiki torches, tables, craft beer, and wine available, she expected this to be a very lucrative event.

She had created playful Fight Night posters with pictures of each of the headliners’ faces superimposed on real fighters’ bodies, posed in dramatic punching stances with their fists up ready to fight. The posters were good advertisements and reminded everyone this was for charity and fun.

It didn’t hurt that each fight pinned one type of first responder against another: two of the fights were firemen vs. cops, then they’d showcase a paramedic vs. a fireman, and a cop vs. a paramedic. Both the cops and firemen had a chance to dominate the event, which would only add fuel to the collegial rivalries and earn one group bragging rights until next year’s competition.

As long as everyone followed the sparring rules, no one would get hurt.

Rule 1: Fighters would wear protective gear and gloves.

Rule 2: Fighters could only give 80 percent of their power.

Rule 3: Fighters would leave their egos at the door.

Easier said than done.

Her buzzing phone indicated several new messages, but Hannah was afraid to look. Conner had been calling and texting her since their first date, and she’d blown him off. Ever since seeing her brother, the guilt over wanting to spend more time with Conner had mounted. She’d managed to avoid him yesterday because they both had to work long shifts, but today he knew she was off and he’d offered to swing by with her favorite coffee.

Even then, she’d brushed him off.

“Are you ignoring me?” a deep voice said behind her, causing her to spin and drop her notebook and a stack of VIP seat assignments.

Conner stood with a duffel bag in one hand and his phone in the other. He looked so inviting in a well-worn police T-shirt and gym shorts. His muscles were on full display and his hair was pulled back at the nape. She wanted to kiss away the concern in his eyes, but she couldn’t. Because he’d gotten himself into a blood feud with her brother.

“What? No. News flash: not everything is about you, Sergeant. As you can see, I’ve been a little busy making sure everything is in place for this event.”

“Woah, how about we take it back a step? Hello, beautiful, is there anything I can help you with? If you had bothered to look at my texts, you would have known I’ve been available to help most of the day.”

Crouching down, she gathered up the name cards and her tape off the floor and let out a huff.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to focus and get this done. Sometimes it’s easier to do things myself than to explain what the plan is.”

“Mm-hmm. That sounds a lot like an inability to delegate. Probably a product of being a medic and charged with saving lives on your own when you land on a scene. But I am technically supposed to be helping you, and no one is dying.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com