What You See (Sons of the Survivalist #3) - Cherise Sinclair Page 0,55

be fun. “All right. Rules are you pull your punches and kicks, no blows to the face or crotch.”

“Good rules.” Bull walked over to the dog, unfastening his jogging belt. She saw it held an aerosol can against his back. Seeing her interest, he said, “My wallet—and bear spray.”

Duh, she should carry spray. “I guess if the spray doesn’t work, they’ll be able to ID the remains.”

He grinned. “There’s that, yeah.”

She laid her jo beside the dog. “Tell Gryff I’m not attacking you, okay?”.

“He’s shown he can tell the difference between fun and anger.”

Uh-oh. That comment implied Bull’s skills weren’t rusty. He probably sparred with the other guys at the Hermitage.

She was doomed.

They started off easy, punching, kicking, easy one-two forms, and then, he sped up. His moves grew faster, more aggressive. She blocked, danced around him, her speed mostly making up for his overwhelming strength. She caught some blows that would’ve been disabling if they’d been real.

Weaponless aikido was superb at turning an attack, but not so good at really hammering an opponent. However, she did have a weapon. She dodged a kick, swiped her jo off the ground, and kept sparring.

She lunged with the end of the staff. If not pulled, the blow would’ve taken his liver out—and he gave an approving laugh.

Now, the fight was equal, and if anything, the slight smile he had at the beginning grew bigger. He caught her a few times—and grinned when she spat curses at him—and she dished a few out herself.

She’d never had so much fun in a fight.

Spinning him off-balance, she swung and stopped the staff a few inches from his throat.

“Very nice.” His smile held only respect and approval. “The moves with the staff are far more aggressive.” After a quick glance for permission, he examined her jo.

“I have a couple others, but this is my ‘street’ staff.” It was painted in swirly Celtic designs with rubber on one end. “When I use it as a walking stick, no one gives it a second glance.”

“Clever. And if you don’t have it, you could use anything else about the right length.”

Canes, umbrellas, branches. The world was full of potential weapons. “That’s the idea.” Wiping her face with the bottom of her shirt, she belatedly realized she’d flashed him with her bare stomach.

For which he rewarded her with a very masculine look of appreciation.

Oops. She straightened her shirt and felt her cheeks heat.

Smiling, he handed her back her jo. “So much for trying to show you that aikido isn’t enough to keep you safe.”

Huh. No wonder he’d agreed to fight her. The big guy was so very protective.

Laughing, she sat cross-legged beside Gryff who laid his head on her knee so she could properly pet him. “I learned the inadequacies of aikido the first time I had to fight someone in real life.”

Bull’s face went still, and he went down on his haunches in front of her. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s okay, orsacchiotto,” she murmured. He really was a teddy bear, all concerned and warm—and deadly. “We survived.”

“We?”

The teddy bear was persistent. “In college, my roomie broke off with a guy—a vindictive kind of guy.” Kit, dammit, you never did learn. “He came to pick up his stuff from our apartment and started hitting Ki—her. Jumping in, I learned aikido’s good at keeping me from getting hit, but less useful at really disabling an attacker.”

“It lacks the predatory moves,” Bull agreed.

“And I lack a predatory instinct.” She shrugged and stroked Gryff’s soft fur. “I considered Krav Maga.”

Bull nodded. “Good choice.”

Naturally, the guy would think so. Krav Maga was all about wiping out the opponent. She shook her head. “That’s not who I am. I’m a pacifist at heart. So, my instructor talked me into the jo as a compromise.”

“Ah.” He studied her for a second. “Actually, I do understand. I enjoy fighting for fun, but I’d rather no one gets hurt.”

She’d seen that. Even when she’d landed a blow, he never stopped grinning. “I hoped you’d be a typical big guy and rely only on your size to win, but your skills are even better than mine.”

Bull rocked his hand back and forth. “I’d win in pure offense, but I’m not as good as you are at defense.”

“Where did you learn? If you were raised around here, does that mean there’s a gym and classes?”

“Not hardly.” He sat down beside her. With a small whine, Gryff scooted over to be between them and heaved a sigh of bliss when Bull