Temper (Knights of Fury #3) - Chantal Fernando Page 0,54
to punch properly, and now I’m being taught how to get out of certain holds if someone tries to grab me. Using the technique Skylar showed me, I twist her arm and escape her hold from behind.
“Perfect.” She beams, panting a little. “Man, I forgot how tiring this was. You want to take over, Prez?”
Temper nods, and steps into the circle and hands me some gloves. “Let’s see what you got.”
“You sure you want me to beat you in front of all your men?” I tease, sliding them on and holding my fists up in position, in front of my face. I start to weave and duck, putting on a little show for him.
He simply grins, flashing his teeth. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
I can’t deny being kind of turned on right now, especially with the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to eat me alive. He puts on his own gloves and takes a similar stance, only he doesn’t look like an idiot when he does it. He looks powerful, like a worthy opponent for anyone.
“You ready?” he asks, amusement in his gaze.
“Yes,” I reply, making the first move forward and delivering the first punch. Like I imagined, he doesn’t actually try to hit me. Instead he playfully makes a few jabs, but none of them connect, and he spends his time blocking my hits. “Come on, you’re not going to break me.”
“I’m not going to hit my woman,” he says, smirking. “I just want to see what skills you have.”
“And?”
“Workable,” he replies, throwing his gloves on the floor, and lifts me in the air by my hips. “You’re quick and determined. And fuckin’ beautiful.”
“I don’t think that would distract many other people, just you.” I grin, kissing his lips as he lowers my body down his.
“Um, we’re still all here, guys,” Skylar calls out, laughing. “Should we leave?”
“I feel like we should leave,” Saint agrees, and they all do just that.
“Are we that bad to be around?” I ask Temper, laughing to myself and removing my gloves. “Oh yeah, while you were gone, I did a thing.”
“What thing did you do?” he asks, lifting his chin and arching his brow.
“I messaged Palmer,” I admit, telling him about the exchange.
“What are you going to do?” he asks, putting away the boxing gloves and taking my hand in his. “If you want to meet him, you know I’m coming, right? I mean, I can wait in the car or something, or hide out somewhere, but I’m going to be around in case he pulls some bullshit.”
“I know,” I say, lip twitching. “And yes, I want you to come with me, of course. I wouldn’t do it without you.”
“Okay, when do you want to meet him?” he asks, leading me outside.
“I’ll message him now and say tomorrow? Do you have anything then?” I ask.
“Nothing that can’t be moved.”
Great.
Tomorrow, I meet my father.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I’m glad when Palmer chooses a public café, because I don’t know how anything can go too wrong here. There’s plenty of people around, and Temper is in a car at the front of the café, Saint at the back, and Renny down the road just in case. We don’t know what he has planned, but we can never be too careful.
He’s there before me, sitting alone with a coffee in front of him. I recognize him instantly from his social media—older, fit, with salt-and-pepper hair. The sound of the chair scraping as I pull it out makes him notice me.
“Abigail,” he says, eyes widening as he takes me in. “You came.”
“I did,” I reply, sitting down. “I don’t know why you wanted to see me, but here I am.”
“Why would I not want to see my only child?” he asks, brow furrowing. “Just because I haven’t been in your life doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.”
Lips tightening, I say nothing to that. The waitress comes over, and I order myself coffee.