am without football. I’m a good-for-nothin’ King boy like my dad and my uncles.
After several long minutes of stretching, the cramp loosens its hold on my muscle enough for me to walk back to the house, or should I say, limp back to the house.
I know the drill. I need ice and elevation. The problem is, I didn’t see a fridge in the kitchen. Besides the room I slept in, the place is pretty nonfunctional.
I round the side of the residence and see Brad Watson standing in front of the pool house, and his hand is on Tiger’s arm. Not my business. Who knows, maybe they’re getting back together. I ignore the feel of barbed wire in my gut at that thought. Again, not my business. I need ice, elevation, and to not be curious about Tiger Lyons’ love life.
But then I hear her tell him to take his hands off her, and he doesn’t. My injured calf is forgotten, and I’m across the patio before I’ve even registered what I’m doing. “If you want to keep your fingers, goldie, then do as she says.”
The surprise on Brad’s face is so comical that I almost laugh, but then I see that he’s still got his hands on Tiger, and all humor bleeds from my mind. “Let go of her, Watson.”
“Stay out of this, King. This is between me and my wife.” He says the word wife like he’s smearing shit over my face.
Tiger jerks her arm free. “Ex-wife.” She rubs at the red outline of his fingers on her skin. “Leave, Brad.”
The film of anger that washes over me is as scarlet as the marks striping her flesh. “You heard her.”
He shakes back his hair and squares his shoulders. “Who’s going to make me?”
Really? This jackass wants to go a round with me? I’ve got him by four inches and forty pounds of muscle. “You don’t want to put that pretty face of yours in danger, goldie boy.”
Tiger snorts. “Listen to him, Brad, and leave.”
The guy’s whole demeanor changes when he turns his attention back to Tiger. “You’re right, love. I’m sorry, but I miss us”—he gestures to himself and then to Tiger—“so much, that I get a little crazy.”
“There is no us, Brad. There hasn’t been in a very long time.” She takes a step toward me. I don’t think it’s intentional, but it makes me ridiculously happy for some unknown reason. “I’ve moved on, and you should too.”
The emotions on his face change so fast that it’s hard to keep up with them. Then his gaze moves from Tiger to me, and his expression settles into indignation. “What’s he doing here?”
I’m about sick of this guy. “I live—”
“None of your business,” Tiger interjects.
His nose wrinkles like someone just shoved something nasty into his nostrils. “Tell me you’re not with this piece of shit, Tiger.”
“I’m not telling you anything, Brad, because what I do is none of your business. Now, leave.”
“Yeah, leave.” I throw my arm around Tiger’s shoulder just to piss off the asshole.
He shoots me a look that clearly says you’re worthless, then turns his beady-eyed gaze to Tiger. “When you’re done slumming, give me a call.” With the flair of a ticked off banty rooster, he stomps away.
As soon as he’s out of sight, Tiger steps out from under my arm. “Thanks.”
My calf seizes up again, and I drop into the closest patio chair. “You had it under control, I got the pleasure of pissing him off.” I push the words through gritted teeth. Another spasm has me coming out of the chair with a groan.
“What’s wrong?”
“Cramp,” squeezes out of my throat.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. The only thing to do is ice and elevate it.” I start to limp to the big house.
“Wait.”
I glance back at her. “What?”
“You’ll have to come to my place for ice.” A grimace almost as bad as mine mars her pretty face. She’s clearly unhappy about this recent development. “Come on.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I just—”
“I’m serious, don’t mention it, or I might change my mind.”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
She opens the door to the pool house. “Aren’t we the clever conversationalists.”
“I guess we are,” I chuckle.
“Have a seat.” She points to an oversized sofa. “I’ll get the ice pack.”
“Thank you. Sorry to put you out like this.”
“It’s no trouble.” She brings me the cold, gel-filled compress, and I’m nearly blinded by the brightness of her teeth shining behind her upturned lips. “Here you go. “
“What’s going on?” Considering she’s either snarled, snapped, or laughed