In Jack's Arms

  "He's here. I've got him doing circuits. Do you need him?"

  "No, it can wait." I suddenly found myself wishing I had some other reason to keep Jack on the line. Man, how pathetic! I was pining over a man who only saw me as a client of his gym and the big sister of one of his players. Jack was so outrageously sexy that women were literally falling at his feet. A girl like me? I had no chance with a man like that.

  I had seen the women he chatted up after class and around the baseball fields. They were blue or green-eyed beauties with killer curves and mega sex appeal. Me? I was basically the exact opposite of those girls with my cocoa skin, dark eyes and jet black curly hair. Instead of a knockout figure, I had a petite body with breasts that barely filled a B cup and a tiny booty that no amount of squats had yet to make big or delicious despite all the promises of those fitness DVDs.

  "Abby?"

  "Yes?"

  "Are you okay? Mattie told me about the robbery." He hesitated. "If you need anything—"

  "They only took some video cameras. It was nothing big. We've already had the doors and locks replaced and our security system has been revamped. We'll bounce back."

  "I wasn't talking about the store, Abby. I was talking about you. Are you okay?"

  The concern deepening his voice knocked me for a loop. "Yes, I'm fine."

  "You know it's okay to not be fine sometimes, Abby. It doesn't make you weak to ask for some support from close friends."

  "Like you?" The words rushed out of my mouth before I could even reconsider them. Were we close friends? I hoped so but…

  "Of course like me, Abby." He paused for a few seconds. "You and Mattie are very important to me."

  "We are?" God, I hated how stupid I sounded. Get a grip, Abs!

  "Yes, you are. If you didn't know that, I'm obviously doing something wrong."

  I swallowed hard and tried not to read into his comment. With my stress-fried brain, it would be only too easy to misinterpret this and make a real jackass of myself.

  "Listen, when Mattie is finished working out, I'll bring him back to the shop. I'll swing by and grab some takeout, okay? Let me treat you guys to dinner. It's been a long day."

  "Oh, Jack, you don't have to—"

  "I want to, Abby," he cut in gently. "I'll send you a text when we leave. All right?"

  "Um…sure."

  "Great. See you later."

  "Bye."

  Staring at my phone, I tried to make sense of what had just happened. We're important to him? My fatigued brain dredged up all the run-ins I'd had with Jack over the last four years as he dragged his family's gym out of near bankruptcy to make it a raging success. After Granddad's health had started to go downhill, I seemed to see more of Jack. Now that I thought about it, I wondered if that was by design—his design.

  All those late nights he had turned up at the shop to browse the firearms and go through our sports inventory suddenly seemed less than coincidental. How many times had he just happened to swing by when I was working late by myself or with only one other employee? How many times had he picked up a broom or mop to help me finish with closing?

  I glanced up at the fluorescent light bulbs overhead and remembered the way he had taken it upon himself to install them after running into me at the hardware store a few weeks ago. Never in my wildest dreams would I have dared to think that simple act of kindness was something else.

  Was it really possible that devastatingly handsome Jack wanted me?

  Chapter Two

  Swinging side to side in his office chair, Jack Connolly stared at Mattie's phone. Abby's sweet voice ricocheted round and round in his head. How the hell had he screwed up things so badly that Abby didn't even realize how much her safety meant to him?

  Still clutching Mattie's phone, he shoved out of his chair and crossed his office to the window that gave him an unimpeded view of the gym. He braced his palm against the cool glass and watched the two dozen or so clients moving through the various stations. Unlike some of the gyms that catered to high-end clientele with their sleek machines and expensive trainers, Connolly Fitness embraced an old-school feel with its minimalist design and wide open space.

  Most clients followed a challenging conditioning and strengthening regimen that consisted of cardio, weight lifting and flexibility work. He made use of his contacts from his military days to hire instructors to teach self-defense and fighting classes like Krav Maga, kickboxing, Muay Thai and Eskrima. They had a mixed-martial arts program that was just over a year old and more popular than ever. Finally, after years of busting his ass, the gym was operating fully in the black.

  But a few weeks earlier, they had come uncomfortably close to losing it all. Their father had gotten them tangled up in a mess of debts to two different loan sharks, one of them with a claim on the building itself. Jack's chest tightened when he thought of the way his younger brother's girlfriend had saved their backsides by giving the loan shark the building she had planned to use as the headquarters for her growing tech business.

  The tightness in his chest increased when he remembered the night he and Kelly had barely managed to save her from that psycho stalker while their dad bled out on the floor of her apartment after taking a bullet to protect her. Their old man had held on through a night of surgeries and was now in recovery at home. Though he respected his father for risking his life for Bee's, Jack still had incredibly complicated feelings toward him. The years of abuse their family had suffered under that alcoholic bastard's hands were too much for him to forgive and forget.

  Mattie's deep belly laugh drew Jack from his thoughts. The laughter punctuated the heavy metal Finn liked to play over the sound system in the evenings. Abby's baby brother hugged his stomach as he guffawed at something funny he had heard from the three guys he had been doing burpees beside. No doubt the joke or story he had just been told was dirty and wholly inappropriate. He had asked the guys who worked out with Mattie to watch their language but his request didn't seem to stick for very long.

  Though he wanted to shield Mattie from the coarser side of male camaraderie, he was glad that the gym's clients all respected and accepted the younger man. Jack had made it perfectly clear that he would kick the ass of any person who spoke badly of or rudely toward Mattie and that Kelly and Finn would take turns whooping some ass when he was finished. So far, he hadn’t had to follow through on that threat. Mattie's friendliness and sense of humor were so damned endearing even the roughest ex-Special Forces guys who trained at the gym couldn't help but smile when he was near.

  Jack stepped into the gym. "Mattie! Do your cool down and hit the showers, man."

  Mattie waved to let him know that he'd received his order and started the final phase of his workout. Jack slipped back inside his office and tidied up his desk. As they inevitably did, his thoughts circled back to Abby. Like him, she was a workaholic, but he had his two brothers to keep him in line. Who did Abby have to watch her back and keep her from burning out with exhaustion?

  From the moment Mr. Kirkwood had gotten sick and started the long, slow slide toward hospice, Jack had been constantly worried about Abby. His stomach just churned when he thought of the burdens she silently bore. Supporting her granddad as he started the final journey of his life, stepping into the old man's shoes to run the pawn shop, taking over as Mattie's guardian—it was a whole hell of a lot of stress for one woman to endure.

  Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to give her some space and approach her slowly. He would be a damned liar if he said he hadn't been head over heels for Abby since the moment he spied her in the pawn shop that morning he had come in to beg for a short-term loan from her grandfather. That mega-watt smile of hers had nearly knocked him on his ass. Falling for a college student had been the very last thing he had ever expected that morning.

  Her age and his respect for her grandfather had been the two main reasons he hadn't pursued his interest in her at the time. Newly discharged from the Corps he had loved so much, he hadn'
t been in the best place emotionally or mentally back then. She had deserved better than a short-tempered, rough bastard who couldn't sleep through the night.

  But watching her date other men hadn't been easy. Every time he worked up the courage to finally make a move, the timing was wrong. When she had been free for the asking, he had been committed to saving their family's legacy, building a loyal clientele and helping Finn get off the booze and into a treatment program. She had been dating some hotshot law school guy when he finally had some room in his schedule and his life to do right by wooing her. Just when he thought the universe had aligned, her granddad got sick and passed away and then his own father was mired in some messy shit with the Albanians and John Hagen.

  What if there wasn't a perfect time? What if he had fucked it all up by not going after the woman he wanted? Jack swiped his keys and wallet from his drawer and gruffly swore, "Shit!"

  "We're not supposed to use that word, Jack." Freshly showered and holding his gym bag, Mattie stood in the doorway of the office with a censorious expression. "You owe a dollar to the swear jar."

  "A dollar!" Jack reacted with mock outrage. "Jesus, when I was a kid, it was a quarter."

  "Well, you're old and that's the cost of inflation."

  "I'm not that old, Mattie."

  "You're thirty."

  "Thirty-three," he corrected. "And that's still not old."

  "It's older than me."

  "Fair enough." Jack reached for his own gym bag and handed over Mattie's phone. "Your sister called earlier. Did you forget to tell her that you were coming here?"

  "Uh-oh." Mattie made a face. "Was she mad?"

  "No. She sounded concerned."

  "You're sure she wasn't mad?"

  "Why would she be mad at you?"

  "I broke a rule."

  "What rule?"

  "A shop rule." Mattie hesitated and then unzipped a side pouch on his bag. He produced a watch that was only too familiar to Jack. "I took this from the shop."

  Jack fought the urge to snatch the watch his mother had worked so hard to buy for their father all those Christmases ago. Instead he held out his hand and let Mattie gently place it on his palm. He turned it over and ran his finger across the inscription there. The memories of his gentle, sweet mother created a throbbing ball of pain that choked off his throat. The guilt of missing her funeral while he was away a war still ate at him.

  "Did Pop pawn this?"

  Mattie nodded. "He forgot to pay."

  "So you took it?"

  "Nick is my friend. He always brings me those sour candies I like."

  Jack made a mental note to remind his father to stop doing that. Mattie went through life thinking the very best of everyone when reality was so much meaner. He hated the idea of Nick conditioning Mattie to accept gifts in exchange for favors. It could lead to some dangerous places.

  "Abby put four extensions on the loan," Mattie continued, "but it was in the pull stack for this week."

  "The pull stack?"

  "It's what we call the stuff we take out of the back and put up for sale in the store."

  Irritation raced through him as he realized how close their family had come to losing this watch because of their father's reckless selfishness. "We'll swing by the shop and I'll make this right."

  Seeing the uncertainty on Mattie's face, he reached out and squeezed the younger's man's shoulder. "I appreciate what you did, but next time, talk to Abby first. There are laws and rules that the business has to follow."

  "I understand."

  "Good." He smacked Mattie's back and drew the kid in for a hug. "Let's get out here. We'll visit the shop first and then grab dinner somewhere."

  "Tacos?" Mattie hopefully asked.

  Jack laughed. "You want me to chase down Thai and Chuy's truck again, don't you?"

  "I have an app on my phone." Mattie tapped at the screen. "It tells me where my favorite food trucks are. Kelly's Bee made it."

  He smiled at the way Mattie described his brother's girlfriend. To his mind, the ownership in that relationship was totally reversed. It was Bee who had owned Kelly—heart and soul—since she was a teenager. Though they were taking things slowly now and rebuilding the broken trust that existed between them after that clusterfuck stalker situation, Jack had no concerns about the couple. Given time, their relationship would heal.

  As he walked Mattie out of the gym and waved at Finn to let him know that he was heading home for the evening, Jack decided it was time to put some time and effort into the relationship he wanted with Abby. The gym was doing great. His brothers were both in good places. Even Pop was safe and out of trouble for the moment. There might not ever be a more perfect time than this one—and he was grabbing it with both hands and refusing to let go.

  Mattie chatted his ear off on the ride to the pawn shop and clued him in on the filthy joke his workout buddies had told. Knowing Abby would flip if she heard Mattie repeat it, he launched into a quick lesson on locker room and boys-only talk. While some people tried to shield Mattie from everything, Jack took the view that Mattie was a grown man with the same interests as every other hot-blooded guy. He just needed to be told in clear-cut language what was and wasn't socially acceptable.

  "Is that a boundary, Jack?"

  Familiar with the boundaries talks Abby had with her brother, he nodded. "Yes, it's one of those social boundaries that we all have to learn."

  "So I can laugh at dirty jokes at the gym?"

  "Yes."

  "But I can't tell them at the shop?"

  "Exactly," he said, hoping to hell Mattie would follow through on the lesson. He found a parking spot in the lot across the street from the pawn store and killed his engine.

  "You don't tell dirty stories at the gym, Jack."

  "No, I don't."

  "Why?"

  "Because it's my business and it's unprofessional," he answered matter-of-factly. "It's also juvenile and can be disrespectful, especially toward women."

  Mattie unbuckled his seatbelt and seemed to be considering what he had said. "I don't want to be disrespectful." With a broad grin, he reached for his door handle. "And I love women."

  "So do I. They deserve to be treated with respect and protected, not talked about in locker rooms, gyms and man caves, okay?"

  "Okay, Jack."

  They left the truck and crossed the street. For a Monday evening, the shop seemed to be rather slow. He chalked it up to news of the robbery. By tomorrow night, the place would be teeming with customers. With the current economy and the expenses of a typical summer, people wouldn't stay away long.

  When they stepped inside, the chimes sounded nice and loud to alert the floor staff. With the practiced eyes of a Marine, he scanned the shop and instantly detected Abby, the two security guards, her two brokers and Dan, the night manager. The two employees and Dan were helping customers in different areas of the store. One security guard hovered just to his left, watching the door, while another was at the rear of the shop, keeping an eye on the customers and transactions. Nothing about them pinged his internal radar so he moved on to the only person who interested him.

  Abby stood at the jewelry counter in her usual outfit of jeans and a bright green polo shirt embroidered with the company logo. Gold and silver chevrons dangled from her ears and glinted every time she moved. She had taken out the braids she had been wearing the last time he had seen her and now had curls spilling around her shoulders.

  What he wouldn't give to be able to wake up every morning and nuzzle in close to those dark waves! She would fit perfectly in his arms, her lithe ballerina-like body molded against his heat and strength. Throbbing need uncurled in his stomach at the idea of seeing her smiling face in the early morning sunshine. He doubted there could be anything more beautiful than that.

  Tearing his gaze away from the object of his desire, Jack examined the younger guy, probably close to Mattie's age, who had his pants hanging down below his ass and his boxers in full view. Jack zeroed in on the
colors of the basketball jersey the guy wore. The little gangster wannabe had one leg bent with his full weight resting on his toes. The easily visible sole of his white sneaker had three hand-drawn numbers marking it.

  1-8-7. It was the police code for a homicide and the name of the upstart gang that was trying to make a name for themselves in the area. The youngest, newest members were only allowed to show their affiliation by marking the bottoms of their shoes and wearing the gang's colors. Later, they would earn the rights to tattoos and bolder markings.

  Eyes narrowed, Jack carefully watched the interaction. The moment he had heard about the robbery, he had suspected the 1-8-7 crew might be behind it. His second thought? The same Albanian outfit that had caused his family such a headache in early June. Jack would never forgive that bastard Besian for forcing Kelly to fight as his champion in the underground bare-knuckle tournament. Kelly could have been killed by the Russian giant who fought for Russian mob boss Nikolai Kalasnikov—and for what?

  Money.

  The same thing the guy hassling Abby wanted.

  "Look, lady, I'm telling you this is real gold."

  "I didn't say it wasn't. I said that all I can do with this is scrap it."

  "Scrap? Are you crazy?"

  "No, I'm a businesswoman. Do you honestly think I have a line of customers coming into my shop asking for a gold chain that says PIMP?" She gave the necklace a jiggle. "If I buy this, it goes into the scrap heap to be melted."

  "Baby, you cold."

  Jack's fingers curled at his sides. He didn't want anyone calling her baby but him. Holding himself back, he waited to see how she would react. One thing Abby had always made clear was her ability to handle even the toughest situations herself.

  Abby cast an annoyed glare at the man. "I'm not your baby. Cut the crap and tell me what you want for all this." She gestured to the pile of jewelry on the counter. "And don't tell me three grand again because that number is a dream."

  "Give me fifteen hundred."