Competitive Heat [Men of Iron Horse 8] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  “No.”

  Was he for real? Did he like being treated like a leper? Was this all some kind of game to him? Her heart beat faster.

  “Scared?”

  She laughed without humor. “Of what?”

  “Liking a football player.”

  “A quarterback,” she corrected, folding her arms over her chest. “And the answer is still no.”

  Jace slid a club soda over to him. “No charge.”

  “Thanks,” Finn told him, his gaze returning to her. To her surprise she hadn’t bolted for the door. She should have.

  Why didn’t I?

  “Why?”

  “Why what,” she countered, confused as if somehow he’d read her mind.

  “Why not go out with me?”

  His confidence and persistence were annoying. She closed the distance between them and stared up at him. “Contrary to popular belief, not everyone thinks quarterbacks are all that special.” She eyed the table of football groupies staring at her and jutted her chin in their direction. “Besides, you have a bunch of available women sitting right over there who obviously want to go home with you. So do yourself a favor, and go out with one of them.”

  He lowered his head, his lips too damn close to hers. “But they don’t interest me the way you do.”

  The deep timbre of his voice practically melted her panties. She eased back, creating much-needed space. He had balls. She’d give him that.

  “Go out with me.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  She fisted her hands at her sides. “No.”

  “Scaredy-cat.”

  She dug her knuckles into her hips. “Are we twelve now?”

  “More like consenting adults.”

  He eyed her mouth and of its own free will, her breath hitched.

  “Forget about waiting until next week. Go out with me tonight.”

  Her mouth hung open, the air still locked tight in her lungs. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m working.”

  Just say no and walk away, damn it.

  Was it possible that persistence was his weapon needed to crack the walls around her heart and mind? He really didn’t know how to give up.

  Either that or the attraction to him was too hard to ignore. Why couldn’t he just be hideous and annoying? Not just annoying.

  If she took him to bed, she could always sit on his face to shut him up.

  Holy shit, what’s wrong with me?

  A cool sweat beaded on her brow and lip. She swiped her hand over her mouth, needing a drink. The room was getting hotter. She needed to check the thermostat.

  “I can cover,” Jace told her, clearly listening to her conversation with Finn.

  “What?” She glared at Jace, wanting to pop him on the head for his suggestion. “No. I can’t just leave my job.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Is ‘why’ the only thing you like to say?”

  Finn’s lips quirked. “I don’t usually have to talk at all.”

  Her nipples hardened and molten heat liquefied her bones. Her mouth went dry. She dropped her hands to her sides, needing to get away as fast as she could before she did something stupid like give him a ball gag and sleep with him.

  With a forced smile, she picked up her tray and headed for the kitchen. She could hear him calling after her, but she dared not turn back around. She could no longer be in the same room with him. He was driving her beyond reason and twisting her insides into jelly with just his voice and the suggestion of sex. He might not have come right out and said it, but the sexual flirtations were there and they were radiating out of her as much as him.

  Knowing that, Finn Kipling was the last man on earth she ever wanted to see again.

  Chapter Two

  Noble slid smoothly off her cherry-red motorcycle, her black bicycle spandex shorts clinging to her hips and thighs like a second skin. She slung her blue gym bag over her shoulder and stalked into the fitness center where she taught spin class. When she wasn’t working up at Iron Horse, she was at the gym, working out or teaching a class.

  Growing up with athletic parents who always told her she could accomplish anything made her work hard. Not to impress them. No, it was all about the adrenaline, the rush of blood in her veins, the sweat that sheened across her skin when she pushed herself to the max. The fitness high.

  Soccer, biking, hiking, it didn’t matter, she craved them. Loved them. Maybe because it was the only time she ever felt in control of her life. Surrounded by a room filled with other cyclists, it was hard to feel alone. The same was true when she worked at Iron Horse. She was never by herself. It wasn’t until she went home that she was reminded of the emptiness she felt in her heart.

  Her parents were gone, Mom from a weird heart condition she never knew she had and Dad from something fucked-up. The world stopped moving when they died. At twenty-three, Noble watched as her father struggled with heartache. He just couldn’t move on without guilt crippling him. They had been best friends, childhood loves, and inseparable. Noble had been the only thing keeping him going.

  Noble longed to feel the warm touch of another, the chance to know the kind of love her parents had.

  A double-edged sword—love and the inevitable loss.

  As Noble rounded the corner and stepped inside the spin room, she arched a brow at the number of students in her class. Every bike was taken, more than half of her normal attendees. Moving to the front, she smiled and greeted her regulars and those new faces that lined the aisle as she made her way toward her bike.

  Dropping her bag on the floor, she opened the gray cabinet and readied the radio to play the music she’d prepared for class. Then she shuffled over to her duffle bag, grabbed her bike shoes, and put them on. Next she adjusted her bike—seat and handle bars—for her preferred riding position.

  Facing the group, she began her regular speech, preparing to help anyone new to the class or those that might need to figure out how to adjust the settings on their bikes. Starting at the back of the room, she moved along each row, checking on each member and helping anyone who needed it.

  Once she made her rounds, she returned to her bike. There was only one missing rider in the front row, but a towel and water bottle were on the bike. Starting her playlist, she kicked off class with a warm-up and a brief introduction to what the riders could expect in her class.

  This was what she loved—the will to change her body and the strength to do it. The rush, the fire of the burn through her muscles as she pushed them to their limits, and the sweat dripping from her body.

  Most of all, she couldn’t get enough of the power to help others do the same. Her mother had once loved cycling, had introduced it to Noble at an early age. It was natural to hop onto a bike and pedal, to ride hard, and encourage others as her mother had done for her.

  She gripped the handlebars tighter, the haunting voices of her parents reminding her of how to never give up, to fight through the fatigue. How they never once thought she couldn’t accomplish anything she set her mind to.

  I got this. That had been her motto since college, since just after her mother had passed away and River had crushed her chance at trusting another man.

  Correction—football players.

  Correction—quarterbacks.

  As the warm-up finished, the last rider saddled up on the bike in front of her. The crisp scent of fall and spices gripped her, and she took a quick glance over his body molded white hoodie and sexy, muscular legs. He was fit and masked, the hood still placed mysteriously over his face.

  Not a regular.

  Dismissing it, she continued on, changing things up to work intervals. Even with all the people in the class, her attention returned to the rider still wearing his hoodie. Class was now half over and she was coated with sweat, leaving a pool around her bike. Surely, he was overheating.

  She reminded everyone to drink plenty of water throughout the ride and breathe, advice she forgot
to follow the second Finn Kipling pulled his hoodie off and smiled at her.

  * * * *

  Finn grunted, as the fiery burn raced through his tightening muscles. The sweat covering his body was nothing compared to the drenching he received during football practice, but staring at Noble in spin class was more intense than any game he’d ever played.

  With her heated glare and constant need to push him, calling out to all the advanced riders to up their resistance, how could he not? Noble was testing him and kicking his ass.

  He liked it. A part of him craved it. Getting her attention had been his goal. Showing up at her class seemed to be the best idea. He just hoped he could walk after she finished torturing him.

  The music shifted to a slower beat. A sense of relief flooded through him as he glanced up at the clock. Class was nearly over, but instead of his heart slowing, his body cooling down, it did just the opposite. He stared at her. Even wet with sweat he found her stunning. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the golden strands darker and somehow sexier. He imaged she’d look this way after a night of passion together—her eyes heavy, her mouth slightly parted, gasping for breath, her skin damp—his cock stirred.

  He never considered pursuing someone the way he did Noble. She sparked something inside him, something that had him wanting a membership to a gym he didn’t need and sitting on a spin bike after a vigorous day of football practice, and preparing to ask a woman out for coffee who seemed unimpressed by him.

  I’m out of my mind.

  The world slowed to a near crawl as each person in class collected their things and gawked at him as they left. A few stranglers hung out to say hello to Noble. The smile she used to greet them faded the instant the room cleared, leaving them alone together.

  His heart pounded against his ribs, a solid rhythm that left him deaf and slightly panting. To torture him further, she did the one thing he wished she hadn’t. She ignored him. Her rejection was like a knife to his chest—her back to him was the twist of the blade to seal his fate.

  He wasn’t good at games—board games, card games, the only one he excelled at was football. Most of all, he clearly sucked at the boy-chase-girl games.

  He wanted so badly to speak with her, have her look at him as if he wasn’t some alien being preparing to shred her soul. A strong-willed woman like Noble couldn’t be forced. He was figuring that out the hard way. He’d hoped that she’d find his interest appealing and give him a chance, but she didn’t. She’d given him fierce glares and a cold shoulder. He wasn’t one to give up easily, but perhaps his approach was off. Maybe she was the one who needed to do the chasing.

  He collected his things and headed for the door. “Great class, Noble. Thanks for the workout,” he called out as he parted through the double doors, waving his free hand in the air, and headed for his truck in the parking lot.

  He opened the back door of his truck, tossed the gym bag onto the backseat, closed the door, and came face-to-face with Noble.

  “Seriously?” she barked, glaring at him. “You came to my class to work out?”

  “I came to see you. The workout was a bonus.” He opened his door, preparing to hop inside, but she placed her hand on the black metal to keep it closed.

  “Are you messing with me?” She glanced around, as if looking for something. “Are you trying to punk me or something? Did the girls at the bar put you up to this?”

  He slid his fingers over the cool door, until he touched her hand. She pulled away with a hitch in her breath and dropped it to her side. He pretended her reaction to him didn’t irk him, but it did.

  One last chance. “Have coffee with me.”

  She took a step back. “I don’t like coffee.”

  “Have tea with me then.”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  He groaned, irritated that she was the most difficult woman he’d ever met.

  Please tell me I hit my head during my last game, and once the swelling goes down, I’ll be free of this insane attraction to her.

  Maybe he’d made a big mistake by taking her class. Maybe she never would like a guy like him. Frustrated, he pulled open his truck door and climbed inside. He gritted his teeth, wishing she could put aside whatever issue she had with other quarterbacks and give him a chance to show her who he was—a guy who loved his mother, called her weekly, had Sunday meals with his folks when he wasn’t playing or traveling, helped his father whenever needed, opened doors for others, and volunteered at charities. He wasn’t a saint, by any means, but he was a good guy.

  Before closing the door, he said, “This is going to be one of those moments where you’re going to look back and wish you’d said yes.”

  “And why is that?”

  His grin was hot, melting of all the things he wanted to do with her, how good he’d treat her. “Because I could’ve rocked your world.”

  He closed the door as he fired up his engine. Her mouth was agape as he put the truck into drive and pulled out of the spot, leaving her staring after him.

  Now it was up to her to do the chasing. He only hoped that she did it soon. Her rejection was silently killing him.

  * * * *

  “You’re an idiot,” Jace told Noble, shaking his head.

  “Why, because I didn’t jump in front of his truck to stop him from driving away?”

  “No,” Claire started. “You’re a ding-ding for not going out to have coffee with him.” Claire shook her head. “I seriously don’t have a life outside of my daughter and work, and it would’ve been nice to live through you, even if it was just a coffee date.”

  Noble groaned, slipping her apron around her waist, tying it through her belt loops. “Sorry to disappoint everyone, but I’m not interested in having coffee with Finn, so please drop it.”

  Liar. If that were true, why’s my stomach churning at the missed opportunity?

  She gritted her teeth.

  Ah, shut up.

  “What about your interest in something a little hotter than coffee?” Layton asked, arching her brows up and down.

  Claire and Jace both snickered, drawing her attention away from the internal war raging in her head. Then her face grew hot, replaying Layton’s words.

  She released an annoyed laugh. “No. I’m especially not interested in that with him.”

  Liar.

  Stop that.

  “Then you’re not normal, Noble,” Jace told her. “From what I can tell, all women want to have sex with him.”

  “I sure do,” Layton blurted out, and Noble gawked at her.

  Claire shrugged her shoulders. “Can’t lie. Me, too.”

  They all laughed. Everyone but Noble.

  Glaring at them, she grumbled, “Then you go out with him.”

  “I would, but he doesn’t want us. He wants you,” Claire explained, her voice soft, sweet, and way more mothering than Noble wanted to hear.

  For a moment, Noble let herself go there—to that warm, inviting place where fantasies had promise. She caught a glimpse of Finn’s hypnotic eyes staring into hers, and the tingling of heat burned up her spine just as it had done when he’d first asked for her phone number. She bit her lower lip, catching her breath as her body ruled over her brain. If her girly bits had a say, they’d already be taking part in what a certain quarterback had to offer. Trouble was, her mind kept getting in the way, reminding her of the hell she’d once been through. Being used like that again wasn’t in her cards. She wouldn’t let it happen. Couldn’t.

  She’d been naive, she knew that. All those years ago, she’d been clueless to relationships. She had no idea people could be so low, that men could use a woman like River had used her. Treat her like trash. Her father had been such a role model for how men should be—honorable, trusting, and respectable—that she had no idea that the opposite lived and breathed in the world.

  Assholes.

  Her perfect bubble had been burst, leaving her with the realization that the world sucked. The years that had passed si
nce then hadn’t seemed long enough the second she spotted Finn at Iron Horse. Every one of those emotions she’d battled over River’s betrayal came at her in a force that left her winded, rattled, and embarrassed. Truth was, she wasn’t sure if she was more upset with River, the king of all dumb jocks, or herself for not seeing through his façade. She should’ve known better, but she hadn’t. She’d truly been a dumb, ignorant blonde.

  “Why is your face hanging to your shoes?”

  Noble focused on Sam, the owner and manager of Iron Horse Bar and Grill. “Nothing. I’m fine.” She hurried back to her table.

  Sam followed. “Look, you’re doing me a huge favor by covering for Janie today, but if you’re not feeling well…”

  She sighed. “No. I’m not sick. I’m just not good at this.”

  Sam furrowed her brow. “Waitressing?”

  “Men,” she admitted. “I just can’t get my head in the game.”

  Sam chuckled. “News flash. Most of us can’t at one point or another. I think it has something to do with Venus and Mars.”

  Noble smiled.

  “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

  Noble hiked her thumb up over her shoulder in the direction of the bar. “My friends can’t seem to stop meddling in my life.”

  Sam folded her arms across her chest. “Family does that.”

  She grinned. “Yes, I guess they do, but this is different. They keep bugging me about a certain football player who keeps coming to the bar. He’s interested in me, but I’m not interested in him.”

  “Is he unattractive or something?”

  “I wish,” she teased, thinking of just how much easier this would all be if he looked hideous. “Just the opposite.”

  “Then what is it that makes you avoid him?”

  Telling Sam about her most embarrassing moment in her life wasn’t going to happen. Having anyone learn about her college mistake made the skin on her body tighten and her stomach swirl with unease. If only I could erase that time in my life. If only I could take away the shame.

  “Let’s just say I don’t trust him.”