Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,65
spend more time with her.
We’re seated quickly and are just about to dig into our chips and salsa when I see a guy coming our way. I can only assume he knows Tempest since I’m a nobody here, so I keep my guard up in case he’s like the other troublemakers she has to deal with.
“Sorry for interrupting.” Instead of looking at Tempest, he’s looking at me… with what can only be described as anticipation. “Are you Cage Erickson… The Fighting Viking?” he asks, completely catching me off guard.
I quickly glance at Tempest and see she’s sitting straight up in her chair, extremely interested in this interaction.
“Uh, yeah, that’s me... but people don’t really call me that anymore,” I say as politely as I can. I’ve had people approach me in the past, mostly when I’m in a city hosting a fight… or in Dallas, where the Erickson name means something, but not in Knoxville, Tennessee. And not since I haven’t fought a publicized fight in over eight months.
“I knew it!” the guy exclaims, slapping his leg and turning back around to gesture to the guy sitting at a table across the room. “I told my buddy it was you but he didn’t believe me. My name is Tony.” He sticks his hand out toward me and I shake it. “I’m a huge fan; I saw a couple of your fights in Nashville… Bridgestone Arena… you were awesome. Shame about your injury.”
He shakes his head in disappointment and I feel eyes on me from around the restaurant. I don’t want to be rude, but I’d really like to end this and get back to my date… not date… meal with Tempest.
“Yeah, it sucks, but I’ve kind of come to terms with it.” I shrug my shoulders and am instantly reminded of how when doing that motion I still feel the twinge. Surgery helped and physical therapy got me to a pretty good spot, but I’ll never be what I was.
“So… you’re not training for that fight against Wilson?” he asks.
“No,” I reply, not trying to be short, but between him interfering with my time with Tempest and asking stupid-ass questions that have no doubt surfaced through the rumor mill, it pisses me off.
He sighs, turning to Tempest and giving her an approving smile. “So, what brings you to these neck of the woods?”
None of your fucking business, buddy.
Clearing my throat, I look up at Tempest and then back to Tony. “Visiting.”
He must finally get a clue, because he straightens and takes a step away from the table. “Oh, well, enjoy your stay… and the enchiladas here are the best.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, watching his back as he walks to his table to make sure he doesn’t change his mind. “Fucking Chatty Cathy.”
Tempest laughs, like a forced huff of laughter. “What was that?” Her green eyes are wide as they dart from me back to Tony across the restaurant, sitting at his table, obviously telling his buddy all about our talk. “Oh, my God… so you’re like one of those guys who fights on the television?”
The way she phrases the question makes me laugh and it helps to diffuse the tension that’d built in my shoulders while I felt like everyone in the restaurant was staring at me. I obviously don’t have a problem with people looking at me. I’ve fought in public since I was a kid, but when I’m not fighting, I don’t really enjoy being the center of attention.
“Yeah, I’m one of those guys… was,” I clarify, looking at my menu and immediately writing off the enchiladas. Fuck the enchiladas. I’m getting fajitas, just to spite Tony.
“I didn’t realize,” Tempest says, trying not to make a big deal out of it, but obviously wanting to know more.
Sighing, I set my menu to the side and lean over onto the table. “Remember how I told you my dad was a boxer?” She nods. “Well, me and my brothers started training in kickboxing and mixed martial arts from a young age. I happened to be the one that really took to the sport and started fighting in tournaments when I was about fifteen. I fought my first UFC bout when I was twenty… two months after I dropped out of Harvard.”
Tempest is hanging on every word I’m saying, her adorable chin cupped in her hand and not an ounce of judgment in her jade green eyes. “Wow,” she says. “The only other person I know who’s been on television is