Nolan yawned so wide that his jaw cracked. He blinked and sniffed as he shook the protein shaker bottle.

“Rough night?” Colin had his own tumbler, but unlike Nolan, he looked wide awake. Nolan didn’t know how he always managed to look so alert, and he said so.

“Well, you’ve got to feed your body. I know you’re still trying to lose some weight, but you gotta make sure you’re getting enough calories to function. You’re a big guy, Nolan. You take a lot of fuel.”

Nolan grunted and eyed Colin’s flat midriff. Spoken like someone who never had to watch what he ate.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harper. I can tell by the look on your face. There’s a reason why Junior calls me Gordo.” Colin chuckled. At Nolan’s confused look, he explained. “It means ‘big guy,’ or really, ‘fatso.’ I’ve always been big, but it’s been in the last few years that I’ve slimmed down some. When I was still fighting, I was about your size, if even a little bit bigger, and I’d been that size since I was about fifteen. I got into wrestling when I was in high school because I needed PE credits and was a big ol’ kid who couldn’t deal with football.”

“Tell me about it. Everyone took a look at me and said, ‘This boy needs to be an offensive tackle.’ My dad tried to make me do it for a few years, but I kept skipping practice to hang out in the home ec room and cook.” Nolan shook his head. “Man, he beat my ass when he figured out that I’d used my uniform fees to enter a baking contest.”

“Well, shit . . .”

Nolan shrugged. “Nah, it’s all good. All it took was me winning first prize to convince the old man it’d be a lot less of a hassle to let me make cakes, and that’s what I did for the next twenty years. Or at least, I did until the heart thing.”

“You miss it?”

“Don’t miss the stress, and I still cook for myself, but not many sour cream chocolate cakes these days.” Nolan pulled out his phone and scrolled through an electronic organizer app. “This is what I’ve been doing lately.”

He showed Colin his recipe collections and food plans, and the big fighter looked over them with great interest.

“Man, you have grocery lists and everything, don’t you?” The big former champion scrolled through the lists and charts. “You ever think about packaging this?”

Nolan was confused. “What?”

“This is great—totally organized, grocery lists, a nice meal plan for a week. I can’t tell you how many people want exactly this type of thing, Nolan.” He scrolled some more and then handed Nolan back his phone. “I want to buy it.”

“What?”

“Seriously—package that shit up and sell it to me. People will love having the hard work done for them, I won’t have to harass the dietitian for recipes, and you can make some extra cash.  It’s a no-brainer.”

Nolan huffed a laugh. “Uh, sure? I mean, why not? It’s already done. I don’t think I can charge you for it, though . . .”

“Bullshit. It’s your work—let other people pay for the convenience. Seriously.”

“I don’t know, C. Um . . .”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll put a poll up. That’ll tell you exactly how much people are willing to pay for this, okay? When they say they want it, you’ll sell it to me. Deal?”

“Uh, sure. I think you’re kind of nuts, though.”

Colin grinned. “We’ll see.” He drained the rest of his shake and made quick work of washing up and putting the tumbler in the dishwasher. “And by the way, the whole time I was fighting professionally, I was bigger than you are right now and had to cut down to two sixty-five to make weight. I know all about it. It’s hard work, and you’ve done a great job. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Nolan fidgeted with his tumbler, uncomfortable with the compliments. Colin cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable as well, before blowing out a breath and clapping his hands. “Welp, I’m outta here. I wanna get home to my girls.”

“Oh, congratulations, man. I didn’t tell you earlier. Yeah, good job.” Sweet Jesus, shut up, Nolan.

Colin grinned and nodded once before leaving the break room.

Nolan exhaled loudly and then finished his shake as he ruminated about selling his meal plan to Colin. When he was regrouping after his heart attack, he’d thought briefly about some sort of concierge chef services, but he had ultimately come to the conclusion that it would be even more stressful than working in the kitchen. But C seemed to think he could do it. It was definitely tempting because Nolan didn’t know how long he could continue working in that office.

“Hey, guy.”

“Whoa, hey, Bridget. I, uh, didn’t even hear you come in.”

And he didn’t. He’d been so distracted by the idea of sharing his food again that he’d not noticed the dark-haired woman enter the break room. Bridget grinned at him as she prepared her own drink. One arm flexed as she shook the tumbler, and the other rested on her hip, highlighting the curve of her trim waist.

“You looked good today, Nolan. You’re getting more efficient and faster.”

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed. She’d been watching him huff and puff through his workout today. Colin was pushing him, and he needed it, but man, what he’d do to be able to make it through a session without looking like he was having a massive coronary—which was ironic because when he did have his cardiac event, he didn’t get red in the face or anything. He’d just felt like he’d been kicked in the chest, and then he’d gone down.

“Um, yeah. I think it was a good workout today.”

They stood in awkward silence until Bridget said, “Well, I gotta jet. It was good seeing you out, Nolan.”

He nodded. “It was. Sorry about the drama with—”

“Don’t even think about apologizing, Nolan. Families are families—you can’t choose them. I get that.” She opened her mouth to say something else but then seemed to think better of it, so she snapped her mouth shut with a clack. “So. Okay. Um, bye, Nolan. See you around.”

“Sure. See ya, Bridget.”

He watched her figure as she walked to the women’s locker room. She surprised him by turning when she was halfway down the hall and giving him another little wave before continuing on her way.

He blinked. What did that mean? Huh. Since he technically wasn’t a client, there wouldn’t be any problem with asking her out, right? Other than the assured rejection. That was definitely a problem. He tried to put Bridget out of his head so he could mentally prepare for dinner with his brother because he knew he was going to need all his reserves after his father’s little visit to Foley’s the other night. His family exhausted him, but Bridget was right; families were families, and you dealt with them as best you could.

“This is really good, Cal.” Nolan licked his lips, and his brother grinned at him. “Really good.”

“Never underestimate homemade ginger syrup.” Cal raised his glass to Nolan. “And cheers to you, Nol, for venturing out and about. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to support Tobias. He said he had some good sets.”

“Yeah, he did. I’ll admit I was skeptical about him playing with only a backing track and not a band, but it worked. People were on their feet, dancing and moving. Foley’s booked him again tonight as an opener for one of their out-of-town bands, so apparently they liked him, too.”

“Cal, Alphonse isn’t here, and someone needs to sign off on the delivery. Oh, hi, Nolan.”

Nolan smiled blandly at Cal’s fiancée, a pretty but superficial woman who Nolan thought was way too young for his brother.

Cal grunted, “Be back in a sec,” leaving Nolan sitting at the bar, savoring his brother’s newest concoction and perusing the rather uninspired menu. If he were the executive chef of Pickett & Spence, he’d go in a completely different direction than the standard gastropub fare. But he wasn’t, so he would keep his mouth shut, or at least try to. He flipped over to the dessert menu.  Where are the desserts?

“Sorry about that, Nolan. I swear, I don’t know what’s going on with Alphonse lately. This is the third delivery he’s missed this week.”

“Why are the desserts missing?”

Cal pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because Al hosed our dessert connection.”

“Oh man. He broke up with Kennedy?”

“She broke up with him. He was fucking around behind her back and apparently was such an ass during the breakup that she won’t work with us anymore.”

“Dang. So you have no desserts at all?”

Cal shook his head. “No, we don’t. If only I knew someone who could whip up an insane chocolate cake on a moment’s notice . . .” Cal stuck out his lip and gave Nolan a pitiful look.

“Okay, okay. Twist my arm. I’ll make a few cakes.”

Nolan held up his fist, and Cal bumped it.

“So, tell me about this fighter chick.”

Nolan choked on his drink. “Are you talking about Bridget?”

“Is there more than one fighter chick?”

“Well, no . . .”

“Then, tell me about this Bridget. Tobias said she stared down Dad.”

“Yeah, she did.” Nolan chuckled, recalling the way Bridget’s jaw set when she locked eyes with his father. Not many people could hold out against Chet Harper’s thousand-yard psycho-stare, but Bridget did, and he could’ve kissed her for it, should have kissed her for it.

“You fuckin’ her?”

“God, man, no,” Nolan spluttered. “I barely know her. She filled in for my personal trainer when he was out.”

“But you wanna fuck her, right?”

“Jesus, Cal. Man, I . . .”

Cal leered at him. “You do, don’t you? What’s stopping you? She have a husband or something?”

Nolan shook his head. “No, she’s just . . . I don’t think she’d be interested in a guy like me. She’s very Yankee city mouse, and well . . . I’m me.”

Cal slapped his hand on the counter. “Well, of course she wouldn’t be, with an attitude like that. Shit. Remember what Toby used to tell us?”

“I know, I know.” He shrugged again. “So how many cakes do you want? Three? Four?”

“Four. And I think you should ask her out. You said she’s not really your trainer, right?”

“Well, no. She was just filling in.”

“So do it. You might not even like her once you get to know her, but you’ll never know unless you ask her.”

“That sounds suspiciously practical, Cal. Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

“Toby and I were talking about you and your dating situation . . .”

“Oh my God, stop. Y’all have done enough.” Nolan felt his face grow warm. “And anyway, you two should not be giving anyone dating advice, especially not Tobias. Jeez.”

“Tobias told me she came with Dad.”

“She did. Toby didn’t even look at her.”

“I don’t know if I could be that restrained.”

Nolan barked a laugh. “Oh, I know you couldn’t be that restrained. She kept glaring at Bridget, though, but I don’t think Bridget noticed.”

“Probably saw her as competition, especially if Dad tried laying on the charm.”

“Yeah. And I wouldn’t put it past the old bastard to play the ‘give a dying man one last romp’ card. You know it would work on a lot of people.”

“Yep.”

Nolan cocked his head at Cal. “Did he ever make a move on Amanda?”

“Oh no.” Cal snorted. “Dad only plays games that he knows he can win, and he wouldn’t win with her. I mean, I love her dearly, but the woman is high-maintenance, and Dad doesn’t do high-maintenance.”

“Yeah.” Nolan wondered if Cal was thinking about their mother, whose mental health issues put her firmly in the high-maintenance category, so much so that his father had stuck her in a home and essentially abandoned her.

“You need to ask that woman at the fight club out. I’m gonna ask you for proof of asking her out when you deliver the cakes.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do it. Life’s too short to not grab it by the balls, Nolan. You, of all people, should know that.” Cal wagged a finger at his younger brother. “Now get your ass out of here, and go make sure Toby has as least one person clapping for him.”

Nolan laughed and slipped off the stool. “I’ll report in tomorrow when I bring the cakes.” He waved at his middle brother as he headed out the door, distracted by thoughts of a certain dark-eyed female fighter.