“Yeah, some young kid. Man, it sucks to be old in a young sport.” A strained smile came to Lance’s face. “Do you think I’m chasing a pipedream? Should I just hang up the gloves and be happy with what I did get to do?”
No reason to sugarcoat it. “Ultimately your decision. It’s not going to be easy. The chances are slim. But I got into CMC at thirty-two. Others have come in their mid-thirties—though few. We still have guys fighting into their forties. So it’s not impossible.”
His friend nodded. “As long as there’s a chance, right?”
“Never give up.”
As they neared the porch, a tiny body with a mass of blond curls came barreling around the house, squealing at the top of her lungs. The piercing shriek, however, wasn’t from happiness at her dad being home. Mac tensed, preparing to take down whatever was chasing the child. The little girl suddenly dove to the left into a thicket of bushes.
“Ah-ha! I’ve got you now.”
A figure jumped from around the corner of the house and a cold blast of water hit Mac in the middle of the chest, soaking his shirt to his skin. Stunned, he stared at the woman for a moment, his arms splayed wide at his sides, then he tugged the drenched material away from his body.
Lance burst into laughter.
The woman didn’t miss beat. Turning slowly in a circle, she kept the water gun close to her face as if she was peering through a scope. “Did you see that, missy? I just took out a civilian. You will pay for that!”
She pumped the lever on the bottom of the gun and a peal of childish laughter erupted from the bushes. The woman spun around, pulled the trigger, and saturated the greenery in a spray of water.
Skylar crawled out, laughing so hard her sides heaved. “I-I surrender.” She flopped on her side, giggling. “Did you…did you see his face?”
Heat crept up Mac’s neck as his gaze bounced from the laughing child to the young girl who’d assaulted him with the water gun. He knew he should see the humor in the situation, but with all the suppressed emotions trying to explode forward since he’d stepped off the plane, being laughed at as soon as he got out of the truck irritated the piss out of him. “Who the hell is she?”
As Lance accepted the hug his daughter threw around him, he said, “Mac, I’d like to introduce you to Gayle.”
“The neighbor you were just talking about?”
“One and the same.”
Mac frowned at the girl. From the way his buddy had spoken about her, he’d expected someone more grandmotherly, hell, motherly at least. But this…this kid in front of him couldn’t be more than twenty-one.
Her auburn hair was split into two low pigtails that made the gathered strands fall over her shoulders onto her upper chest. A tight blue tank that didn’t reach her navel strained out of the lapels of the plaid overshirt she had knotted at her ribcage, making her bountiful breasts pop forward. The sleeves had been ripped off and were frayed at the seams, giving him the impression of a farmer’s daughter.
Except for the indecently low ride of her nothing-there jean shorts that displayed way too much flat stomach and tanned legs. Those things spelled trouble. His gaze lowered. Yep, the look was complete. Barefoot, with bright purple painted toenails.
“Hi, Mac. Sorry about the soaking. The little booger got away from me.”
Uncomfortable with the appreciative way she was eyeing him so openly, he pressed his lips together in a disapproving scowl. “You should be a little more careful. Someone could get hurt.”
Her lips twitched at the corners. “This coming from a cage fighter? How…ironic.”
How in the hell did she know he fought? He glanced at Lance, who was watching the exchange with amusement.
“What I do has no bearing on the matter,” Mac said, returning his attention to Gayle.
“Really? I’d say fists have a better chance of inflicting more damage than my poor little water gun.”
Mouthy thing, wasn’t she?
She sauntered closer to him, an alarming sway to her hips. The fact that he noticed horrified him.
“Let me rectify the damage. Dinner. My place. Eight o’clock.”
At a loss for words, Mac blinked. Not that he hadn’t been asked out before by a woman. He had. Just not so bluntly.
“I have better things to do than play tea party.” He needed to get control of the situation. She might find it fun to hit on older men, but he wasn’t going to be a part of it.
Those twitching lips split into a full grin, revealing a radiant smile brimming with mischief and mirth.
“Come on, handsome. I make a mean cup of tea.”
He got the craziest idea she was laughing at him. He shot a glance at Lance for help, who grinned and shrugged.
“That’s Gayle,” he said. “She holds nothing back.”
A throaty chuckle that was all woman came from her, and an odd sensation crackled in Mac’s chest. Frowning, he instinctively moved into his fighter stance, preparing to mentally knock that unwanted feeling into submission.