Buddy surveyed his redesigned living space. The boxes he’d moved from house to house were finally emptied of their contents and put on the shelves. Now, he found himself alone in the house in the middle of the afternoon for the first time in literally years, and he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

His stomach rumbled. He went into the kitchen, and after perusing the contents of the refrigerator and finding that he couldn’t face another night of leftovers, he thought he’d venture back down into the city to Foley’s, the pub where he’d spent the previous evening. He figured he would see if any of the DS Fight Club crew were hanging around, and if worse came to worst, he’d head into the actual gym. After all, there were always different combinations of fighters to be investigated.

*****

Buddy pushed through the heavy wooden door of the pub and stood in the entryway, blinking until his eyes adjusted to the dark interior from the bright, midafternoon Atlanta sun. The dining area was empty, which wasn’t surprising seeing as it was too late for lunch and too early for dinner. However, every stool lining the ornate mahogany bar was occupied, and the bartenders darted back and forth while they prepared drinks and bantered with customers.

Buddy scanned the long bar and saw the familiar figures of Junior and Ryan once again talking to Meghan. He walked over to the duo and slid onto a lone, unoccupied barstool.

“Hey, man, back so soon?” Ryan stuck out his hand, and Buddy shook it.

He gave Junior a pat on the back. “Yeah, it’s amazing how efficient you can be when you don’t have a kindergartener underfoot.” Buddy grinned, but he wondered what Lucy was up to.

“You’re not used to being on your own, huh?” Ryan remarked. He took a sip of his drink and looked inquisitively at Buddy, as if he wanted to know more about him.

“No, I’m not. It’s been the two of us for so long. It’s weird not having Lucy with me.”

“How long has her mom been gone?” Junior asked, then waved his hands. “Sorry, man, none of my business.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Uh, Natalie first bugged out when Lucy was about six months old. She . . . was not an easy baby, and I had a pretty erratic schedule, working construction during the day and doing the odd job at night.”

“For Raptor? The odd jobs?” Ryan gave Buddy a knowing look.

“Yeah, for Raptor. That’s right—you were tangled up with him for a while.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I was. You get into it through construction, too?”

Buddy nodded. “Yep. I was essentially a day laborer. One of the foremen and I were friendly, talked about MMA and combat sports. He asked me if I wanted to earn some extra money. I got in with Raptor, met Natalie, and then . . . that was that.”

“Man, how long had you been tangled up with Raptor then?” Junior crunched the ice in his drink. “I mean, Lucy is five, right?”

“Close to ten years.” Buddy shook his head. “But I didn’t meet Natalie until about six years ago.”

“You work fast. Ow!” Junior elbowed Ryan.

Buddy chuckled. “Yeah, it was a whirlwind romance all right. I should have known better.”

Buddy had actually been thinking about Lucy’s mother the past few days, ever since unpacking one of the boxes that contained photos and mementos of happier times.

“Buddy?”

“Hmm?” Buddy pulled himself out of his memories to find both Junior and Ryan looking at him, concerned.

“You okay, mano?” Junior’s brow furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a weird day.”

Ryan yawned and rubbed his face.

“What are you even doing here, Richards? I thought you’d been up for thirty-six hours, or something crazy like that.”

Ryan laughed. “Yeah, I had, but I couldn’t sleep anymore and didn’t wanna cook, so we came here to have some of Nolan’s grub. But now I’m full and tired again.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned again.

“Ach, Junior, take your man home before he collapses in the garnish.” Meghan wagged her finger at the couple. “Shoo.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go, chulo. I don’t need Meghan sore at me. She’s scary.” Junior tugged on Ryan’s shirt, and Ryan slid off the barstool.

“See ya on Monday, Buddy,” Junior said.

“See ya, guys.”

Meghan and Buddy were the only two left at the bar, but several couples had wandered in for an early dinner. Buddy was surprised at how much time had passed while he was talking with Junior and Ryan. He liked the two guys and felt a camaraderie that he didn’t with the other members of DS Fight Club, since he wasn’t actually a fighter. He hadn’t actually fought in years, not since Jett Raptor had discovered that his strength was matching up fighters. Once that happened, Raptor had put him to work, creating matches for Raptor Pryde as well as the illegal matches Raptor ran on the side, though it had been almost two years since the illegal matches ring collapsed.

He didn’t like to think about two years ago. Natalie had left for good to pursue her acting-slash-modeling career. The reality was that she’d hooked her wagon to a better gravy train, one unencumbered by a child. He couldn’t fathom leaving his child behind, but Natalie was a very different sort of person than Buddy was. She was young—too young for him—more than ten years younger, and very spoiled with a father who had fingers in all sorts of pies. When she had gotten pregnant, the first thing Buddy did was go to her father and ask for her hand in marriage, fully expecting to not be able to walk out of the man’s office on account of her father’s goons having smashed his kneecaps. But the man had been agreeable to Buddy marrying his daughter.

Unfortunately, Natalie wasn’t. She’d thrown a fit about actually getting married, but she seemed to be excited about having a baby—at least, at first. Then the realities of parenthood, with everything that entailed, had set in. She’d sucked it up for a while, but when Lucy was six months old, Natalie’s father died, and with him went all sense of pretense that she had any desire to actually be a mother. She had come back twice, the first time when Lucy turned one, and again when she was almost three. Natalie had attended Lucy’s first birthday party. The majority of the memory box’s contents were photos from that birthday party. The second visit, Natalie hadn’t actually had contact with Lucy. Buddy would never, ever forget that visit. She’d stood outside in the lobby of the indoor play center and watched Lucy jump and climb, but ultimately, she had told Buddy she was leaving the country, her return date unknown. He hadn’t seen or heard from her since.

Meghan slid another beer in front of him even though he was only about halfway through his current pint. “It’ll be flat and more than warm. It’s no good to drink now,” she said by way of explanation.

“You’re a complicated one, aren’t you?”

She cocked her head at him, looking like some sort of exotically colored bird, with her raven-black hair, which was streaked with electric blue, purple, and pink, and her heavily inked arms. “Yeah, complicated,” she repeated before moving down the bar to wait on another patron.

Buddy snorted.

Complicated. He wasn’t complicated. If anything, Buddy considered himself very simple. He was a father first and foremost; everything else was secondary. That was why he hadn’t dated much. He wasn’t interested in a wife, and the women who frequented fight clubs generally weren’t interested in single fathers. Although lately, now that his life was not so unsettled, he’d been thinking about dipping his toe back into the dating pool.

Maybe.

Perhaps.

He just needed to find the right woman. Maybe he’d actually publish a profile on one of those mature dating sites; he’d already composed one—he just had to click the button. Just as he was mentally listing possible positive attributes for a potential match, Molly Mayhew walked through the door.