“Yeah, I’ll remember that.” He laughed at the idea of Grayson protecting him, but he knew his brother was right. Not only had Sky become close with both Jana and her sister, Harper, but she brought them to almost all their get-togethers, too. It seemed like Jana was always around, and she was the last person he should be hooking up with, considering he usually banged a woman a few times at most, then closed that door. But flames ignited every time he and Jana were in the same room, and she had some kind of crazy hold over him that he’d been unable to escape.
Grayson lowered his gaze to the designs again. “I drew up the plans for the detail around the arches.” While neither Grayson nor Hunter was interested in settling down in their personal lives, when it came to their business, they had a whole different attitude. They’d worked hard to build a reputable business that they could be proud of. Their love of their craft showed in their exceptional designs, and that kept them in high demand.
“Cool.” Hunter came around the table to check out the designs. The competition required only designs and a small scale model of the gazebo, while the sculptures were expected to be full-size and ready for display by the competition date, which was a little more than five weeks away.
They had gone back and forth about the finite details for the gazebo, initially thinking about using a seashell theme, then moving to more of an overall oceanic theme, until finally they’d agreed on something more naturalistic. When Hunter had presented the idea of tangled vines interspersed with fish and shells, as well as clusters of berries and leaves, Grayson had loved it.
“You any closer on the sculpture?” Grayson asked.
“I’m working on something, but it still doesn’t feel right. I figured I’d fabricate some of the pieces and see if I start to feel good about it.”
He needed to get on the ball, but for some reason his creativity was at a standstill. Hunter was a perfectionist. This carried over to his clients to the nth degree. He sometimes spent hours laboring over the slightest angles or twists of metal.
The fact that Hunter did not go to the same lengths for a relationship wasn’t lost on him.
Chapter Two
BY SEVEN THIRTY Jana’s arms felt like wet noodles. She’d arrived at Cape Boxing right on time, and like always, Brock was waiting for her. Her eldest brother was never late to anything, and when he’d agreed to coach Jana, he’d drilled it into her head that she’d be treated like all his other clients. That usually wasn’t a problem, but lately these early-morning workouts were hindered by her all-too-often late nights with Hunter. He was definitely a distraction she didn’t need. Not while her schedule was already so full with boxing and dancing. She loved boxing as much as she loved dancing, but ever since her boss at Cape Dance, the studio where she’d taught for the last two years, left town to open another studio, leaving her to handle all the administrative and marketing work as well as teaching, she’d felt as though she were racing just to keep up with her responsibilities.
“Jana? You sort of spaced out for a minute.” Brock slapped the heavy bag with his palm. “Focus.”
“Right. Sorry.” Focusing was more difficult this morning, when every move made her thighs ache, bringing Hunter, and their latest hookup, to the forefront of her mind.
“Lack of focus leads to—”
“I know. I know. Openings for my opponent,” she said. Brock was known as “the Beast” for his status as a local boxing champion, and Jana appreciated the time and attention he gave to coaching her. She’d spent a lot of time in fight clubs. Their mother used to drag her and her siblings to Brock’s practices and sparring matches. Harper and Colton had never been enamored of the sport, but Jana had been awestruck from the moment she’d walked into the club until the very second they’d left.
For years she’d fought the urge to train, putting her energy into her dance and theater work, where girls were supposed to be involved, at least according to her parents. But the very essence of the sport spoke to her, from the smell of sweat and conviction that permeated every boxing club to the boxers’ grunting and visceral sounds. Having made her mark as a dancer and an actor, she felt as though she’d fulfilled her parents’ need for her to be a stereotypical girl, and she’d finally given in to her love of boxing and began training. She related to the look of determination that not only filled a fighter’s eyes, but took over their body, plumping up their veins and ripening their muscles. But it was more than the scents and energy of the sport that drew her in. It was the sense of control and power that came along with it. Boxing instilled a different type of confidence than dance had always given her. Dancing made her feel beautiful and feminine, graceful in ways that nothing else ever could. Boxing was all about strength and escaping fear. She had to climb out of her head when she fought, and climbing out of her head was always a good thing.
She focused on the bag as she nailed it with one hard strike after another. She needed a good workout today just to get Hunter off her mind. She hadn’t been able to sleep after she’d arrived home in the wee hours of the morning. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the sensual look in Hunter’s dark eyes, felt the strength of his hands as they moved over her skin. When she’d showered, she’d seen the abrasions on her inner thighs from the scruff on his jaw and had to wear her long exercise pants to cover the evidence of their tryst. She punched the bag harder, faster, trying to escape the shiver racing down her spine with the thought. But just like the last time they’d hooked up, she knew it was going to take a lot more than a few punches to outrun the memory of those delicious hours spent in Hunter’s arms.
“I see Tequila Girl made it in.” Sawyer grinned as he joined them by the heavy bag. Sawyer had been the East Coast Boxing Federation cruiserweight titleholder and ranked number three in the Northeast Boxing Association. He’d retired after his doctor told him that one more blow to the head could lead to permanent damage.
“Tequila Girl?” Brock crossed his arms over his broad chest and cocked a brow.
“You’re my brother.” She grunted as she punched the bag. “Not my babysitter.”
“Did Hunter get you home okay?” Sawyer asked.
Jana scowled at him. She’d known him so long that he was like an older brother. The last thing she needed was another lecture from either him or Brock about self-confidence, treating her body like a temple, and the rest of the garbage they deemed important.
“Hunter? Why would Hunter have to get you home?” Brock asked.
“I got myself home.” She put more effort into each punch. “Thank.” Punch. “You.” Punch, punch. “Very much.”
She stepped out from beneath their overbearing presence and moved to the speed bag.
“I’ll leave y’all to your workout,” Sawyer said.
Jana turned with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Gee, thanks, Sawyer.”
He shrugged. “Hey, he’s my fiancée’s brother. I’ve got nothing but good things to say about him.” He nodded at Brock. “But he might have a different opinion.”
He and Brock high-fived as Sawyer headed over to the ring.
“Before you give me crap, I’m a big girl, Brock. I can handle myself.” And according to the look on Hunter’s face last night, she handled herself very well.
“I have no doubt you can, but Hunter? You know he’s gone out with half the girls who hang out at Undercover.”
“So?” She began punching the speed bag again.
“So? Jana, hasn’t anything I’ve said to you over the years sunk in? Why would you hook up with a guy who’s been around that much?”
She turned to face him and wiped the sweat from her brow. “Brock, look who you’re talking to.”
He winced and held up a hand. “Let’s not go there, please. You know how I feel about your choices.”
“What? It’s not like you’re a prude or anything.” She wasn’t embarrassed that she didn’t do relationships. Why should she be? Most guys didn’t care about relationships. Why should women be looked at sideways for doing the same?
“No, but you are my little sister.” He took a step back, as if just the thought of her having sex repulsed him.
“Good. That’s exactly what I was going for. Stay out of my personal life. ’Kay?”
“Point taken. Just be careful. Hunter’s a nice guy, but…”
“Don’t worry, Brock. I know exactly what he is. Arrogant. Annoying. Bullheaded.” Tension riddled her body just thinking about their debate over boxing. She turned back to the bag and said, “Obnoxiously loud with his opinions,” and then spent the rest of her training period purposely not thinking about Hunter.
After practice, she showered and dressed in the locker room, feeling bad about snapping at Brock. He was a great brother. Macho, protective, funny. How could she fault him for caring?
On her way out she stopped by the front desk and found him working on the computer.
“Hey.” She peered at the computer screen. “Working on schedules?”
“Mm-hm.” Brock glanced at her outfit. “You look cute.”