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She grinned up at him, and he didn’t miss the flicker of her gaze. It had drifted to his lips again. He hoped she’d wait a little longer before she returned to kissing him. Long enough for him to gather a tighter rein on his control.
Chapter 21
Jamishiftedneartheentry door nervously as Malcolm went inside to turn on the lights. The flickering fluorescent bulbs revealed a different environment than she had expected. Not that she’d known what to expect from the nondescript building outside.
The floor was concrete, and scuffed-up punching bags hung all over. Taking up most of the space was an actual boxing ring. At least, she assumed it was for boxing. The ropes around the outside appeared a little frayed, and it wasn’t like anyone was sparring there, not as late as it was.
“Do you own this place, too?” Jami asked, stepping forward to run a hand over the nearest bag.
“No. The owner just gave me a key, is all.” Malcolm shrugged as he strode back to her. Jami’s gaze ran from his T-shirt down to the jeans he was wearing. She’d found herself staring at him much more often lately, especially his arms. He caught her this time, his smile gentle, not teasing like she’d hoped. He glanced around the open space. “I’ve been coming here for years, so he trusts me.” He tossed her something.
Jami fumbled, catching only one of the gloves. She bent to lift the other. They weren’t as large as she would have expected. Malcolm had big hands. She swallowed as she ran her finger over the leather of one glove.
“Those will still be a little big, but Layla won’t mind.” He moved behind the punching bag she stood in front of, his hands holding it steady. “Try them on.”
Jami’s hand clenched on the gloves. “Layla?” she asked, surprised at the spike of heat inside.
“Reggie’s sister. Well, one of them.” Malcolm’s smile widened. “She has a mean right hook. Blake should know.”
The explanation tamped down the hint of jealousy that had almost taken her over. “She punched Blake?” The gloves were big, but Jami cinched the Velcro around the wrist tighter to compensate.
“Oh, he had it coming. He was a dog when it came to women. Well, before he and Katie got together, he was.” Malcolm shook his head, his eyes going distant. “I never thought he’d settle down like he has. He’s really excited by the idea of being a father.”
Jami thought Malcolm would be a good father. That too warm feeling she’d been experiencing more and more often now returned. Of course, a daughter might chafe under his rules. He’d be beyond overprotective.
“All right, make a fist for me,” Malcolm instructed.
Jami did as he asked, waiting for his nod.
“Good. Keep the thumb out just like that.” He tapped the bag. “Now punch it.”
Jami glanced at the punching bag, then back at Malcolm. His brown eyes were steady as he waited. Jami straightened her shoulders, taking up a comfortable stance. Then she punched. The bag gave a satisfying jerk against Malcolm’s hands.
“Good,” he said. Before he could tell her again, she was already punching. The thwap became rhythmic, and the frustration she’d felt earlier when Malcolm’s parents had acted almost like they were scared of him finally unfurled. Her breaths panted from between her lips when Malcolm asked her to stop.
He handed her a water bottle that she hadn’t noticed he’d brought in. “Hydrate.”
Only then did Jami realize how thirsty she was. She fumbled with the cap through the too big gloves, then gulped some of the water.
“Smaller sips,” Malcolm murmured. “Once you catch your breath, I’ll show you a few moves to use if someone grabs you.”
Jami remembered asking him for a self-defense lesson. “So that’s what this is.”
“It was a good idea… if a bit of a spontaneous request.” His eyes warmed with that special glint she’d been missing ever since the incident behind the tavern.
“I warned you,” Jami said. She’d expected him to lose his patience with her over the past week, but his instructions at work had remained gentle, despite the mistakes she kept making.
“Oh, I didn’t doubt it.” Malcolm stepped closer. “The Jami I first met was very spontaneous.”
Jami’s cheeks flushed from the reminder. She capped her bottle, setting her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
Malcolm studied her before reaching out, his grip on her arm warm and firm but not biting. Her other hand automatically reached up to slap at him. He let go.
Her eyebrows drew together. “You can’t be that easy on me.”
“I can when your expression goes like that.” His hand came back to the same arm, stroking it this time. “I’ll press you harder as you become used to the process. Now, your arms are weak. You won’t get free by smacking at your attacker. He’ll just pull you off-center or turn into the blow. Exactly what you should do instead.”
Jami frowned at his hand. “Show me.”
