Fight For Her (More Than A Cowboy 1)

“If she’s accepted, then it will be my pleasure,” I replied. I didn’t want to say Emory’s name in front of my dad, so I kept it neutral. I didn’t want him to know anything more about her.

“Good. Please ask your father if he would like to join you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I had no interest, ever, in eating dinner with my dad, but Casale had a reason for it. “Angelo Casale wants to know if you want to join me for dinner tonight at his restaurant.”

Dad turned to look up at me and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. This was the first time—ever—I had seen him weak and vulnerable. He cleared his throat. “Please offer him my thanks, but I will be staying in Atlantic City through the weekend.”

“He offers his regrets,” I told Casale.

“Hmm, yes, I figured as much. I assume your meeting is over, so you should easily be back in time to get your girl. I’ll see you at seven.”

I put the phone away and put my hands on my hips, waiting to see if my dad was going to say anything else. I saw him sitting there—shoulders slumped, skin orange and pale all at the same time—for what he really was. An old, pathetic man. He hadn't sent a man after Emory. It wasn't his deal. All he did was taunt, to fuck with you. He didn't have the balls to do more than that. He might be a powerful businessman, but he had nothing on me. Nothing. I could deal with whatever shit he tossed my way, but it seemed I had an ally with Angelo Casale. I had no idea what he had on my dad, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about my dad at all.

“We’re done here,” I said, my voice hard. “We’re done, period. Leave me the fuck alone and you stay away from Emory. You forget she even exists. I’d be happy to beat the shit out of you and I’m sure Casale would be more than happy to hide your body.” I leaned forward so he could hear me clearly over the din of the casino. “You think I care what you do? I don’t think about you at all.”

I shook my head and looked at my dad one last time. I wasn’t trying to remember, I was trying to forget.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

GRAY

I got caught in traffic on the Delaware Memorial Bridge, some semi jackknifed and brought the highway to a standstill, so I had to meet Emory, Christy and Paul at the restaurant. I’d spent the extra two hours in the car thinking about Casale’s hold on my dad and the reason for the dinner.

Mr. Casale himself met me by the hostess stand. I shook his hand and he clapped me on the shoulder. “I trust you had a good visit with your father?”

“I didn’t realize you two were friends,” I countered. I was eager to get to Emory so it was difficult to chat it up. But, he was concerned for her and so I owed him respect.

He offered a small shrug. Very Italian. “Friends? Absolutely not. We have…an understanding. While he will still be your father, I am sure he will not offer you too much additional trouble.”

I narrowed my eyes and felt threatened. A guy like Casale didn’t do something like this without wanting something in return. “What do you want, Mr. Casale? I have no intention of having my fighter blow the fight, or a fight three years down the road when it suits your needs. I don’t need a partner in my business.” I tried to keep my voice even. My father was an enemy I understood. Mr. Casale was in a completely different league.

He shook his head, kept his hand on my shoulder. “You’ve misunderstood. Emory is in love with you, therefore I just reminded your father of a few things. If Emory’s happy, I’m happy.”

While I was curious about Mr. Casale’s connection with my dad, it was probably best if I didn't ask too many questions.

“She’s…she’s not in love with me.” I could hear the surprise, the uncertainty in my voice. “We met last week.” While I said the words, I knew them to be empty. Time didn’t seem to make a difference when it came to me and Emory. It was as if I’d known her forever, yet everything was brand new.

The older man actually tsked me, led me around the corner so I could see Emory sitting at the table chatting with Christy and Paul. She hadn’t seen me yet. “You’ll keep her happy?” he asked, as we both watched her.

I nodded. It’s all I could do because the sight of her was like the worst sucker punch I’d ever taken. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but wonder why she was the least bit interested in me. When she glanced up and saw me, she tilted her head and gave me the most perfect smile. Her eyes brightened with what I hoped was pleasure and excitement and it was all for me.

I was thankful for the small nudge the older man gave to my shoulder, prodding me to move toward the table. She stood and met me halfway, taking my hand as she leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Hi,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

Those words, God, they were the best thing I’d ever heard. This woman had missed me. I wanted to think it was love that made her eyes bright, made her smile so broad. I couldn’t help the stupid grin that spread across my face, but I had to put my hands on her shoulders and get a look at her. She wore a sundress, a bright blue that was soft and flowing and hit just above the knee. On her feet were a pair of sexy high heels and she wore makeup. Gone was the girl next door I woke up to and in her place was, shit, a siren. She'd pulled me in all right and I never wanted to leave. I closed my mouth and tried not to look like I was drooling.

“You look…incredible,” I whispered when I kissed her forehead.

She grinned at me, clearly pleased with the compliment. “Sit. Mr. Casale’s brought us wine.”

I held out Emory’s chair for her, then shook Paul’s hand, said hello to Christy. “I see you took care of my girl.” Glancing at Emory, I saw her blush. I loved that I could do that to her.

“If that means being dragged to the mall for dress shopping, then yes, I took care of your girl,” Paul replied.

“Are you okay with wine or do you want water?” She remembered I’d said I didn’t drink anymore.

“Water.”

She put the bottle down, then pushed her water glass toward me. “I only had the clothes I put in my bag last night. I couldn’t go to the hottest restaurant in town wearing shorts and a T-shirt.”