Read The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Leslie North
The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2)
By Leslie North
The Burton Brothers Series
Book 2
Avery Caldwell will do anything to save her younger brother from the violent world of fighting. Only one thing stands in her way: renowned fighter Mason Burton.
Avery already lost one brother to fighting and she’s determined to save the other. All she has to do is persuade his trainer, superstar Mason Burton, to talk her baby brother out of the ring. She wasn’t counting on Mason being the tallest, strongest, sexiest man she’s ever seen, but that won’t change her mind. She’ll just have to ignore her unexpected feelings for the charming fighter and do what she came to do.
Mason’s used to women lining up for him at the side of the ring, but one look at Dustin Caldwell’s overprotective sister is all it takes for him to fall hard. With long blond hair and the face of an angel, she’s the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. He knows she hates everything about fighting, but Mason refuses to tap out.
With her stubborn determination, it won’t be easy proving that the circuit isn’t as dangerous as she fears. But convincing her to fall for a fighter may just be the fight of a lifetime.
Release Schedule
Book 1 - The Fighter's Fierce Temptation - 7th May (FREE for 1st 5 days)
Book 2 - The Fighter's Stubborn Lover - 14th May
Book 3 - The Fighter's Secret Child - 21st May
Book 4 - The Fighter's Defiant Lover - 28th May
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Mason cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Control, Dustin. When are you going to learn some control?”
The kid had natural talent, but it was all in his ground game. His standup skills sucked. Mason winced as Dustin took a hit from Beck. He and Beck had padded up the kid as much as possible, and Mason could see his brother pulling back. But it was clear Dustin was going to have to learn the hard way.
“Hold up,” Mason called out. He climbed into the training ring. Dustin backed off, breathing hard, his sandy hair darkened and matted by sweat. The guy was fit, no doubt about it. Muscles rippled on his chest, arms, and legs. But the padding Mason and Beck had put on him was making him sweat rivers. Mason pulled off the padding and tossed it out of the ring.
Once he was down to just his gloved hands, mouth guard and groin protection, Dustin pulled out his mouth protector and shot a narrow-eyed glance at Mason. “Told you I don’t need to be coddled.”
Glancing at his brother, Mason asked, “Ready?” Beck nodded.
Mason waved for Dustin to try another go with Beck. Dustin charged Beck, swinging hard. The kid looked like an uncoordinated colt—all long limbs. Also unpredictable, unsteady and dangerous. Beck tucked low and took Dustin to the ground with a kick. He slammed Dustin into a head lock.
“Okay, cool down,” Mason called out.
Dustin stopped struggling. Beck let him go and both men stood. Mason got in front of Dustin. “That’s three matches and each ones ended up in the same way—you on the mats and Beck in control. Dustin ducked his head low. “You starting to see you need help? You need to put that ego of yours aside if you’re going to learn.”
Shoulders slumping, Dustin pulled out his mouth guard again. “Okay, okay.”
Beck came over and propped a hand on Dustin’s shoulder. “Kid, you can fight. What you need to learn is patience. You need a ton more work at martial arts. You need to slow it down and make it solid.”
Nodding, Dustin followed Mason out of the ring. Mason threw the kid a towel. Dustin pulled off his sparing gloves. A ringing from his bag had him bending down, pulling out his cell phone and groaning.
“Bad news?” Mason asked. He leaned over for a glimpse at Dustin’s cell phone, caught an image of a girl too gorgeous to be true. Golden waves of hair flowed around her face, curls bracketing a perfect oval. She smiled at the camera, deep violet-blue eyes warm and laughing. Mason sucked his breath in as her ethereal beauty struck him right in the chest.
I could spend hours looking at her!
How had a kid like Dustin ever landed a girl like that?
“What?” Mason waved at the kid’s phone. “Who is she?”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “My older sister. She’d convinced her baby brother’s not old enough to wipe his own butt let alone fight.”
Mason’s jaw slackened. That angel face was Dustin’s overprotective sister? He’d heard Dustin mentioned her once or twice before and he’d imagined some hatchet-faced old biddy. To hear Dustin talk, she was completely against the sport of MMA and was convinced that Dustin would die if he so much as stepped into the cage to fight.
Mason almost gave a laugh. “Kid you’re going to have to figure out if you go after your dream, or do you give in to her fears.”
Glancing up, Dustin fixed a desperate look on Mason. “You’ve got to help me. You know what family’s like, and she’s all I have left. She’s texting she’s going to come see me. You’ve got to help me make her see this is what I was born to do!”
Mason glanced at his brother. Beck held up his hands, bare now. “Hey, he asked you to help.”
Blowing out a breath, Mason glanced at the photo on Dustin’s phone. “Well, how hard can it be to convince an angel like that of anything?”
“Yeah, face of an angel and stubbornness of mule,” Dustin muttered. But he grinned. And a shiver trickled down Mason’s spine. What the hell had he just gotten himself into?
Mason exited the post office in Gilson, his eyes trained on the letter in his hand. He brushed his fingers over the MMA commission return address. This had to be the official release stating he could begin training again.
Pulling in a breath, he rubbed the back of his head. He felt fine—hell, he was fine. He’d spent most of the fall doing his four months of mandatory rest up from the concussion. He was itching to get back into the ring, and set up his next fight.
He ran down the steps, turned the corner, and looked up—way too late.
The girl coming the other way slammed into him, softness bouncing off him. He dropped the letter and grabbed for her. Her feet slipped on the snow-covered sidewalk, dragging him with her. His feet slipped, too and he skidded around, landing them both up against the railing near the steps.
“Oh!” The girl let out the word with a soft breath.
“Hang on a sec.” Mason held her tight until he was certain they were done skidding on snow. Winter clothing smothered the girl with a wool stocking cap pulled down over her head, a knitted scarf wound around her neck, partially covering up her chin, a down coat and thick ski pants. She looked more like a snowman. She definitely wasn’t a local—locals knew how to dress for warmth and didn’t need that many layers. “You okay?” he asked.
She put a hand on his chest. “Fine, just fine.” She straightened and her eyes widened—cornflower blue eyes that Mason had the feeling he’d seen once before. Those eyes flashed and she pushed hard on him. “You’re Mason Burton!” She flung the words at him like an accusation.
Mason let go of her. He’d thought—given her size—she had to be pretty young, but he could see a maturity in her eyes.
Damn if her eyes aren’t gorgeous!
He wondered if the rest of her matched. She was watching him carefully. He had no idea what she’d look like underneath that winter gear, but he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d met her before now. She had suede boots on her feet, trimmed in faux fur, and while they looking warm, he could see damp stains on them.
“Do I know you?” he asked. He stepped back from her, but stayed close enough to catch her again if she slipped. The two feet of snow that had been snowplowed off the streets now sat in piles scattered here and there, a good deal of it swept up onto on the sidewalks.
The woman shook her head. Well, he might not know her, but she knew him. Sweeping up his letters, Mason took her elbow. “Mind if we step out of the wind. There’s a coffee shop here.”
She gave a swift nod. He gave her an encouraging smile and pulled her with him into the coffee shop. He held the door for her, directing her to a side table. Heading to the counter, he ordered two coffees. He had no idea what she took in hers so he’d let her fix it up.
Unwrapping his own scarf as the warmth from the heater blasted him in the face, he let out a breath. He paid for the coffees and came back to find he’d lost what had looked like an Eskimo and a woman now sat at the table. He glanced at the gloves on the table, the scarf, and then at her. He just about dropped the coffees.
“You’re Dustin’s sister!”
*****
Avery pulled the cap from her head, shaking her head from side to side to loosen the long strands of hair she’d piled up underneath it. Next to her, she heard Mason suck in his breath as if he’d been hit. She glanced at him. He stood beside the table, two coffees in his hands, his dark eyes warm, but his face frozen in what looked like shock.
“Avery Caldwell,” she said and offered her hand. “Oh, guess I better take a coffee first. Which one is mine?” He held out a cup to her. Their fingers touched, his chilled and hers warm. A small shock sizzled up her arm at the contact. She forced herself to stare into his light blue eyes, noticing how long his lashes were and the small scar beneath his left eye.
Clearing his throat, he sat down. “Avery. Nice. What can I do for you? You here to see Dustin I take it?”
Avery offered him a tentative smile and then dropped her gaze.
You can do this. You need to do this. Think of Dustin.
Lifting her gaze, she said, “I need your help.”
Mason sat down opposite her. He gestured at her coffee. “I didn’t know how you took it.” He also pulled out three letters and slapped them on the table. “What kind of help do you need?”
“Black is fine. And…and, can I ask you a question first? What if someone you knew—cared for—was in grave danger? What would you do?”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile that set her heart pounding. It was a charming smile—warm, intimate—and it set his eyes dancing. “Just who do you think I am? I’m not some superhero, y’know.”
“That’s not… you’re missing the point.” She sat up straighter. “What would you do?”
He gave a shrug. “I guess I’d try to help them.”
“Good. Then you understand.” Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on the table. “Dustin won’t listen to me anymore—and you…well, he seems to look up to you. I want you to talk him into giving up fighting. Tell him he doesn’t have a chance in the ring.”
Mason slowly shook his head. “I really, really hate to have to disappoint you, but that’s the way it is sometimes. Sorry, Avery. I can’t do that. Your brother was born to fight, and with my help, he’s going to hold a title someday.”
Avery tightened her hand around the hot coffee. The hot liquid sloshed and spilled and she pulled her hand back with a hiss. Mason grabbed her hand. “You need ice.” Without waiting, he got up and strode the counter and came back with a cup of ice. She watched him, eyes narrowed. “You know you could convince my brother that what he’s doing is dangerous. You…you’re not a total jerk. You got ice for me.”
Mason put the ice in a napkin and put it onto her stinging hand. He looked up at her. “Since when am I responsible for someone else’s brother? I have two of my own that I can’t make do anything.”
Avery pulled her hand away. “Dustin’s stopped taking my calls. He won’t listen to me. He keeps texting me that I need to talk to you. He said you’re his coach. But this is my brother’s life everyone wants to put on the line!”
Mason shook his head. “Look, Avery, I get it. You’re not hot on the MMA. Some folks don’t get that the sport—”
“It’s not a sport—it’s barbaric bloodshed!”
His eyes narrowed. He leaned back and crossed his arms. “What is your problem?”
Breaths coming quick and fast, Avery shook her head. She wasn’t going to talk about it, not with this…this hardhead. But she couldn’t stop the memories—Edward lying on the hospital bed, how he’d looked that last…
She tried to gulp down a breath, but her chest tightened. She needed her inhaler. Now. But she didn’t want to use it here in front of this jerk. Chest tight, wheezing now, barely able to breath, she stood. Too fast. The world swirled around her, her knees gave out and she started to fall.