Rough and Ready (More Than A Cowboy #2) - Vanessa Vale Page 0,3

look like a complete lunatic, couldn't let my fear rule me. I let out a deep breath and murmured, “Excuse me.”

He stepped back, hands raised in front of his chest, and I pulled the dolly with the boxes into the lobby area.

I heard the elevator close, felt the keen sense of panic start to wane. I stopped just inside the exterior doors, stared outside through the glass. At nothing. Breathed. Tried to calm my racing heart. Cam had done this to me. Made me a quivering mess, scared of everything. Even my neighbor.

Of course, the intense man was my neighbor. I'd met Gray and Emory. They told me Gray's fighter, Reed, lived in the other apartment on my floor, but I hadn't met him yet. I'd been in the gym twice so far—Gray offered membership with the rent—and seen a number of fighters working out in the ring as I ran on the treadmill but didn't know which one was him. The number of fit guys, punching, kicking and rolling around on the ground trying to choke each other was enough to make any woman's ovaries perk up and take notice. I had no idea sweaty men could be so arousing.

But none of them had anything on Reed. Even through my panic, I was attracted. Perhaps that was why I was so panicked. In that split second, I shouldn’t have desired the man who could do me harm. If I took away the layers of panic, I’d remember his height, at least a half a foot taller than me. Jet black hair had been cut super short, as if he used clippers himself instead of going to a barber. His skin was olive toned, and the start of a beard made his square jaw rugged.

Then there were the tattoos. Swirls of color and shapes crept up his arms, and I had no doubt more were hidden beneath his shirt. The overall effect screamed bad boy.

His dark eyes had widened in surprise at the sight of me, then a touch more after that, probably because I'd stared at him in horror. With his nose that had a crook in it and the splotchy red marks on his left cheekbone, he looked like he'd been in old fights and new ones. A snug white t-shirt had been plastered to his skin with sweat, the collar slightly stretched as if yanked a few times, and a pair of black workout shorts rode low on his hips. He was a fighter not a rapist.

I pushed open the outer door with more aggression than needed and tugged on the dolly, wheeling it to the back of my car. No doubt Reed thought I was insane. At the least, deathly afraid of him. My heart still hammered. My throat burned with the need to cry, but there were no tears. Cam had done this to me. Even after two years, even from a jail cell, he held so much power over me. He was still fucking with me. My work, my life, my relationships. When he got out…

As I stuffed the boxes in the trunk of my car, I had to wonder if I'd ever be free. And a guy like Reed? I wasn’t a damsel in distress worth saving.

2

REED

I had no idea what the fuck happened with my new neighbor. I had women stop in their tracks and stare at me with a quick eagerness that said they’d get on their knees for me in the nearest bathroom. I’d never had a woman look at me with such horror. Yeah, I was dangerous, but not to women. Not to her.

I'd just finished up a few rounds with a kid who wanted to be an MMA fighter, so I was a little sweaty, a little pissed. He’d sworn he was the next big thing and wanted Gray, also known as The Outlaw—who was the best trainer around, perhaps one of the best fighters even after his retirement—to check him out. Gray had put him through his paces in the ring with me. He hadn’t done it for the punk. Gray had known he wouldn’t cut it because of his piss-poor attitude alone. He’d done it for Emory, his fiancée, who worked with the kid’s dad at the hospital.

Gray wouldn't do shit like that for anyone else. Hell, he'd handed her his balls the day they met last summer, but he seemed just fine with it. Emory was killer, and I didn't say that about too many