Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,23

past however many hours. I don’t remember calling Cole to take me home. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand and scrolling my call history proves I didn’t. The last call on here is when I called him for a ride to the bar.

Well, I’m not in jail, so that’s a plus.

There’s no way I walked.

I wouldn’t have made it past the first block.

Wait—wait a damn minute.

There was a guy… big muscles and very, very blue eyes.

And blond hair.

And a beard, not like a scraggly, unkempt one, but just a little… more scruff than beard… one that accentuated his strong jaw.

Weird how I was obviously very drunk, but remember all of that.

What was his name? Cain? Cade?

There were some words exchanged and then everything went fuzzy.

Shit.

Chapter 6

Cage

“I really like what you’ve done with the place,” Hank says, his eyes scanning the open space.

Laughing, I shake my head. “You made it out like this place was a dump.”

“Well, it’s not luxury, that’s for sure.”

No, it’s not, but it’s great and it’s the perfect place for me right now. “I was actually going to ask you something.”

“Shoot,” Hanks says, taking a few steps closer to the stainless steel island.

“Well, I’m still rehabbing the shoulder, but I’d like to start doing some upper body workouts and I was thinking those steel beams downstairs would be perfect for some kickboxing bags.”

It’s been too long. Even if I don’t get to punch the shit out of them, I can still get a nice leg workout in. I’ve been running every morning and doing crunches and some light weight workouts, but there’s still something missing. That it factor I get from pouring all my power into another object—follow through.

I miss the cage, the fight, the rush of adrenaline. And I know I can’t do that anymore, but I think I can find a new way to reach that place of Zen.

“Yeah,” Hank says, nodding his head thoughtfully. “I think that’d be great. Whatever you need, man.”

I let out a deep breath, not that I thought he’d say no, but just because it feels right. “Thanks. I think I’ll start out with just a bag and a few mats. Maybe I’ll add to it down the road.”

“Maybe you’re onto something here,” Hank adds and I can see his wheels turning, always thinking. “You know, Green Valley doesn’t have anything like what you’re used to… gyms dedicated to training elite athletes.” Pausing, he raises his eyebrows. “There’s a chance a kickboxing class could turn into more. You could add equipment as you go. Maybe one day, build your own ring … put up a cage.” His brows rise up to his hairline and then a wide smile breaks across his face. “I know it won’t be the same… you’d have to stay on the other side, but it could be good for you. You could be good for someone else … someone like you.”

Scratching my head, I huff a laugh. That’s a little more than I’d let myself daydream about, but I’m not going to lie, what Hank’s saying doesn’t feel too bad either. “Huh,” I finally say, still mulling it over, because now my wheels are turning.

“Don’t think too long and hard about it right now,” he says, hands braced on the shiny surface. “But do think about it. Start small and see where it goes.”

As we walk back down the stairs and into the large, open room, I start to look at it as a blank slate—a new beginning—and for the first time since I rolled into Green Valley, I try to see myself staying indefinitely.

What does that look like?

Could I permanently live in a small town?

I didn’t come here with a plan, but in the back of my mind I thought I’d get lost for a while, let the news of my early retirement die down, and then go back to Dallas.

“It’s already seeping in,” Hank says matter-of-factly, drawing me out of my thoughts.

“What?”

“Green Valley,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he scuffs his feet against the concrete floor, the sound echoing off the bare walls. “It does that to people. Kinda sneaks up on you and the next thing you know, you find yourself liking it … and then one day you wake up and realize you never want to leave.”

I scoff. “Not sure about that, but…”

“You’re thinking about it.” His smile is contagious and I can’t help giving him one in return. “Heard you took Tempest Cassidy home last night,” he