Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,61

I think Hank enjoyed the business side of fighting as much as I enjoyed the fighting.”

This time, his chuckle is reminiscent and maybe even a little sad.

“You miss fighting,” I tell him. It’s not a question. I can hear it in his voice.

He sighs again, shifting in his seat, hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead. “Yeah, I miss it.”

That’s obviously still a sore subject, so I go back to the Harvard thing. “So, are you a Harvard graduate?”

“No,” he says with another laugh. “Let’s just say me and college didn’t really agree.”

“But you must be smart… and you had to have some amazing grades, not to mention test scores,” I ramble. “I went to culinary school, so I wouldn’t know too much about that. But my cousin, Cole, he got into The University of Tennessee and he had to have a twenty-four on his ACT. I can’t imagine what you had to have to get accepted to Harvard…” I drift off, my mind whirling with this piece of information and my eyes drift back to Cage, mesmerized by his strong jawline.

Since he’s been in Green Valley, he’s started to grow a beard, but you can still make out the lines. On some men, a beard ends up being camouflage, covering up their features, but on Cage, it sets them off, making his full lips look fuller and his blue eyes bluer.

Damn it, Tempest.

When Cage takes his eyes off the road for a split second and catches me ogling, I snap my head back around and avert my gaze out the window, waiting for him to say something… anything to distract me.

Deep breaths.

Distract me, please.

“I scored a thirty-six on my ACT, four-point-two GPA, Valedictorian, and I wowed them with my extracurriculars. I was a first-degree black belt in Taekwondo by the time I was fifteen and was teaching at the dojo by the time I was a senior. Add on top of that countless hours of community service and a self-defense course at my local high school… and you’ve got yourself a Harvard acceptance letter.”

I chuckle, partly because he just wowed the pants off of me… literally and figuratively… and partly because what do I say to that? “So, you’re not just a pretty face?”

“Pretty?” he scoffs and it’s not just because he’s trying to be modest. I can tell there’s genuine disbelief in his tone and I’m shocked. Surely he knows. Surely women throw themselves at him. Which brings me to my next question.

“Is there someone special… back in Dallas?”

He laughs lightly, following it up with a sigh as he runs a hand over his face and through this dark-blond hair… which has also grown since I first met him. And for the second time since we started this journey, I wonder if I’ve touched on a sore subject… or maybe there is a someone?

That thought makes my stomach tighten, but not in the delicious way it does when Cage looks at me with his blue eyes ablaze. This feeling resembles jealousy.

What the…?

“No,” Cage finally says. “No one special… unless you consider my four brothers special,” he adds. “Some people do.” This time when he laughs, it’s back to the deep rumble that goes straight to my core. “And my parents… but the closest I had to a girlfriend or a wife was the ring. I was married to it—ate, slept, drank, and breathed it.”

Interesting. “So, fighting wasn’t just a hobby for you?”

“No.” He clears his throat. “No, not just a hobby… it’s what I left Harvard for… all I ever wanted to do. I knew I was born to be a fighter the second I stepped into a ring at the age of seven. My dad put an old pair of gloves on me and I was at home.” He looks over at me and our eyes meet briefly and it’s one of those exchanges where the information is on a cellular level and it goes straight to your soul. “My dad said it was equally his worst mistake and proudest moment. He saw it too… told my mom I’d be better than him.”

“He was a fighter too?”

Cage nods, licking his lips and making me do the same. “He was a professional boxer… fought WBA bouts back in the 80’s and went up against some of the greats.”

“Wow.”

I see his shrug out of the corner of my eye and smile. He doesn’t think he’s pretty and obviously doesn’t want me to think any different about him due