Cole steered me into a little Italian restaurant that looked like it had been there for a hundred years. It was the real deal, with red and white checkered tablecloths and an over-the-top authentic Italian host who gushed over what a cute couple we were while he ushered us into a tight booth in the back of the restaurant. As the host left us with our menus, I glanced over at my huge, imposing, tattooed companion, unsure of his feelings on being called “cute,” but his body language was relaxed and he seemed almost happy.

“I love this place,” he rumbled, studying me rather than the menu. “Do you want me to order?”

I raised a brow but glanced at the menu myself. “You don’t know what I would like.”

“Try me,” he challenged.

Why not? I closed my menu then gestured my assent to him, curious to see what he would choose. The waiter hurried back over, having apparently been watching for our closed menus.

“Are we ready to order, Signore e signora?” the waiter inquired.

“Yes, thanks. I’ll take the house special, extra large, and my lovely companion will have a large pepperoni with extra cheese,” Cole confidently ordered for both of us then gave me a small grin. “It’s what you’ve ordered the last three times we had pizza at home. I do pay attention.” A warm fuzzy flickered inside me, and I said nothing in response.

The food was magnificent, and by the time I had only one slice left, I was slumped in my seat and clutching my over full belly. Cole watched me with amusement then generously offered to finish the remainder, which hurt me to accept. Yet I thought if I ate another bite I might burst the button on my jeans.

As he made a big show of slowly devouring my last slice, a small, weasel-like man approached our table, reeking of stale cigarette smoke and body odor.

“Cole, hey! Fancy running into you tonight!” he jabbered nervously, his gaze darting all over the place.

“Harry,” Cole muttered in a slightly threatening tone. “What do you want?”

“Oh, hah! Straight to the point! Always like that about you. Never one for chit chat, ha ha. Nope, not you! Gosh, how good is the food in this place, right?” He wrung his hands, his jittery body language contradicting his light chatter. Cole just stared at him.

“Boy, your date sure is pretty! Have you guys been together long?”

At a low rumbling noise from Cole, Harry blanched.

“Right, get to the point. Sorry. Uh, so the boss saw you come in here earlier and sent me over to ask if you can fight tonight. He had the Iceman on the cards, but he got picked up last night on some bullshit drug charge, so we’re in need of a replacement...”

Cole continued staring at the little man, and I swore he hadn’t blinked once. I was definitely glad to have never been on the receiving end of that look. By the sweat beading on Harry’s brow, he was wishing he wasn’t right now.

“So, ah, what do you say? Boss says he’d be real happy if you could help him out. He’s paying too!” The anxious chatter continued as if he could placate danger with enough syllables.

Eventually, after making the poor man squirm for a minute, Cole broke his silence. “No.”

The foul smelling man paled even further and looked ill at Cole’s refusal.

“But, ah, I don’t understand. The Boss himself is asking, and, ah, you don’t want to say no to him. Right?”

“No, you don’t want to say no to him. I’m here for a nice day out with my lovely friend, not to fight.” His eyes narrowed, and I badly wanted to tell Harry to just cut his losses and leave. The little man looked panicked and almost like he might start hyperventilating soon.

“Don’t decline on my account.” I blurted out, compelled to try and stop the panic attack happening before us. “I don’t mind so long as I can watch.”

Harry’s narrow features relaxed into a huge smile. “Ah, I see why you’re with this one! Excellent taste as well as a pretty face, hey? Don’t see many of those around these days. Where did you say you two met again?”

Cole gave me an odd look then turned his death stare back on Harry.

“Who is it against?”

At his grunt, Harry’s wild panic vanished, and he rubbed his hands together. “Yes! Ah, it’s Odin.”

A glimmer of excitement warmed Cole’s glacial eyes, and he looked at me hesitantly.

“Hey, don’t let me stop you. I have no problems hanging around and watching. In fact, I’d quite like to see if you’re half as good as you think you are.” At my tease, the corner of his mouth kicked up.

He looked back at the pungent man standing in front of our table and gave a sharp nod. “Very well. Normal time?” When Harry nodded in answer, Cole continued and said, “Tell your boss I expect additional payment for the short notice. An extra fifty percent will do.” The foul smelling man continued nodding so hard I half worried his head might pop off his shoulders, and Cole gave him a shooing gesture to make him leave.

Leaving the restaurant, Cole led the way down the street towards what I assumed would be the location for the fight.

“Wait.” I frowned. “How is this going to work? You don’t have a change of clothes or gloves or anything. Do they have, like, rental gear or something?” That sounded less stupid in my head.

Cole just gave me another odd look, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Not really that sort of a fight, Vixen. You’ll see.”

Walking into the dodgy, underground fight club, I could see what he had meant.

The entrance was a shady, unmarked door hidden in a dirty alleyway, guarded on the inside by a burly security guard who demanded a password from us. Once inside, we descended the badly lit stairs into a basement packed with all sorts of shady characters and an empty caged-in octagon in the center. My excitement spiked, and I bounced on my toes a little. I couldn’t wait to see Cole in action. I knew he was good because I’d been training with him for weeks, but I’d yet to see him against a real opponent. Despite the fact that he never seemed to enjoy our sparring matches at home, in the anticipation of this illegal cage match, his eyes were sparkling.

Cole tugged me over to a corner where there were some seats set out on a slightly raised platform and lifted me onto one before looking over at someone I couldn’t see and giving them a head nod.

“Okay, you should be fine to watch from here. I’ll make this as quick as possible, and then we leave straight away. Yes?” He stared intently into my eyes, and I nodded my understanding.

“Don’t move from this spot, Vixen. There are some bad sorts in this room, but you’ll be safe here. There are guards watching.”

I smiled at his protectiveness, as if I couldn’t take care of myself. Now, however, wasn’t the time to argue with him.

“I understand, Cole. I won’t leave. Good luck!” I gave him a light punch in the shoulder. How embarrassing, I didn’t know what had possessed me to do that, and the funny look he gave me seemed to agree with my awkward sentiment.

His name was called out loudly over the speakers, and he gave me another concerned look, as though I was planning on getting into trouble the second his back was turned, so I rolled my eyes at him. He sighed, then whipped off his leather jacket and handed it to me, followed by his tight black T-shirt, and my jaw fell open. In all our training sessions, I had yet to see him shirtless, and I was kind of glad because there was absolutely no way I would have been able to concentrate if I had. Covered in more ink than bare skin, he was a marble-cut work of art, and I shivered in response. Luckily his focus was already on the fight ahead, and he didn’t seem to notice my slip in composure. He toed off his motorcycle boots and socks, leaving everything with me, before he prowled over to the cage and climbed in with lethal grace.

The crowd went a bit nuts, confirming my suspicion he was a bit of a regular in this scene, with bets suddenly flying around the room and trashy women screaming his name.

His competitor was announced, and the crowd went equally as crazy, so I wasn’t sure who the favorite was between them. Odin turned out to be a well-built man, but still several inches shorter than Cole’s six foot five. He appeared better prepared for the match, wearing lightweight silk shorts and strapping tape around his ankles. Dancing around the cage, Odin played it up for the crowd, hopping around energetically and doing flashy flips and shit. My money was definitely on Cole, who stood there in his jeans and bare feet, seemingly bored with the situation.

The announcer bellowed out that the fight was about to begin so all bets must be placed, and there was another quick flurry of money changing hands before all fell quiet.

When the fight began, everyone surged to their feet. The crowd crushed forward, blocking my view of the cage. I tried standing on my toes and peering around them, but frustratingly, in my low-heeled boots I didn’t have the height to see past the taller men in the crowd. Even on the raised platform where I stood, I couldn’t see anything, and the hisses and cheers of the crowd were driving me nuts not knowing who was winning. Eventually I resorted to standing on top of the rickety folding chair just in time to see Odin get mercilessly taken to the ground. Immediately Cole switched positions in order to grab Odin in a rear naked choke hold. Tapping out frantically as his face turned an ugly shade of purple, Odin lost. The spectators went insane, and I hastily hopped free of my chair when it got bumped.

Things were getting intense with the group in front of me, as clearly they had placed money on the loser and weren’t happy about the outcome. One of them shoved another, and a man stumbled into me. Not wishing to be trampled, I tucked Cole’s things away and headed for a ladies room down a mostly clear corridor to my left. I’d be back in my spot when Cole was done with his victory lap.