Her Son's Hero

“You already know why you lost.” Mako’s dark eyes studied him closely. “Doubt clouds your mind and your heart. Doubt and fear.”

“I’m not afraid, Sensei.”

“Not for yourself, perhaps, but for your opponents—” he nodded definitively, sharply “—yes. You feel pity for your adversaries. You do not think they are capable of defending themselves. This is not the way of the warrior, my friend.”

A long breath hissed out between Dom’s teeth. Mako was right, of course. Dom had been pulling his punches, hesitating too long before striking. He’d left himself open to his opponents’ attacks.

But he didn’t know what to do about it.

“Tell me what I must do to clear my mind, Sensei. I will do anything you ask.”

“Anything?” The older man chuckled. “Does winning mean so much to you?”

Dom thought about the UFF welterweight championship belt, the symbol of everything he’d worked toward since he was an angry young punk, looking for a fight. He’d traversed a long, hard road to get where he was today. “It does.”

Mako skewered him with a long, assessing glare. The smile dropped away from his face. “I will not be easy on you,” he warned.

“You were never easy on anyone, Sensei.”

“You will not complain or question what I make you do?”

“All I want is to get back in the cage and win the belt.”

“If that is all you want…very well.” He stood abruptly. “We begin now.”

And then a look of pure mischief appeared in Mako’s eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I HEAR THERE’S A NEW MAN in town.”

Fiona looked up as she was paying for her coffee and cinnamon buns in Josie Baby’s Bakery and Café. She seriously needed the break after the rough morning she’d had. The weekend part-timer had called in sick and there was a ton of shelving still to finish.

Josie “Baby” Banner grinned up at her wickedly. “He moved down the street from you, apparently.” She pushed a stray lock of curly dark hair behind her ear. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?”

Fiona suppressed a smile. The rumor mill in Salmon River was as active as any other. If someone had seen her with Dominic…

But no, if they had, it would have been all over town by now. When news of Mitch’s crimes had reached Virginia, it had spread like wildfire and burned Fiona to a scandalous crisp.

“I spoke with him briefly.”

“Really? What’s he like? Is he cute?”

Fiona shrugged. She had to admit that Dom was stellar in the body department, with that T-shirt clinging to his sculpted form. He was dangerously sexy in a Vin Diesel kind of way. “I guess, if you like that sort of thing. Sean met him yesterday. He said he’s some kind of fighter.”

“Ooh, a bruiser.” Josie rubbed her hands together. “I love the rough-and-tumble types. He doesn’t have a girlfriend, does he?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should go over and see for yourself.”

“Maybe I will. I’ll bring him a welcome cake.”

Fiona shrugged again, a little irked how Josie was so eager to please. Then again, it was the baker’s effusive friendliness that had earned Fiona one very good friend and ally in Salmon River. She wasn’t sure she could trust a guy like Dom with her friend’s tender heart, though. He didn’t strike her as the kind who would appreciate Josie’s sweet and giving nature.

Coffees and goodies in hand, Fiona walked down the street, passing the Five Elements Gym and Dojo on the way. The wide windows on the corner unit gave passersby a good view of the goings-on within, and it seemed there was quite a show. Most of the hovering gawkers were women.

“Who do you think he is?” Fiona overheard one ask.

“I hear he’s renting the Patterson place on Geneva Street. John Patterson told me he was getting a new short-term tenant.”

“Oh! Look what he’s doing now.”

Fiona glanced through the window and felt her eyebrows rise to her hairline. Dom was doing an advanced yoga position, a one-armed plank on a medicine ball. The other arm stuck straight up, perpendicular to the ground. His body rippled with sinewy muscles beneath his clinging T-shirt. He made the exercise look effortless.

“Oh, my,” a woman said, fanning herself. “What do you suppose he does for a living?”

“With a body like that, I wouldn’t care if he was a garbageman.”

Dom got up from the mat and glanced out the window, his eyes connecting with Fiona’s. There was no mistaking the spark of recognition in his baby blues. He gave her a salute.

Fiona felt heat climb up her neck. Arms loaded with coffee and pastries, she could do little more than nod. His grin broadened.

Thinking he’d been grinning at them, the other women collectively swooned. Fiona shook her head as they started arguing over who he’d been making eyes at. She walked back to the bookshop, feeling just a little sorry for Dominic Payette. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be swarmed by Salmon River’s most ardent husband hunters and matchmakers.

THE SMACK TO THE BACK of his head made Dom flinch, not in pain, but in surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing, Domo-san?” Mako tapped a rolled-up newspaper against his hip. He used to punish him with a swat whenever Dom’s attention wandered during lessons. It seemed old habits died hard.

“I was just waving to a friend.” Mrs. MacAvery, her blond hair shining in the sun, her eyes dark and watchful. A small part of him had wished one of those coffees and whatever was in that box had been for him, since he still hadn’t eaten a proper breakfast. Beyond the window and the staring faces he saw her enter the bookshop across the street. Maybe she worked there?

Thwack! The newspaper came down harder, bouncing off his scalp this time. “You have more important things than girls to think about right now,” Mako admonished with a dour look. “Give me twenty rolls.”

Dom suppressed a grim but knowing smile. He knew his sensei would keep him on track.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN FIONA FINISHED WORK at four o’clock, she went to get Sean from fun camp. Since so many people worked weekends to cater to the tourist crowds, the town’s family and community committee had set up the service so that parents would have somewhere to send their children who needed babysitting.

Sean shuffled over as she got out of the car. “Hey, sweetie.” Fiona didn’t lean in for a hug or a kiss; her son was getting to that age where he abhorred public displays of affection. She probably wouldn’t be able to call him “sweetie” soon, either.

Sean mumbled a reply, scuffing his toe against the ground.

“Did you have a good day?” she asked.

He shrugged thin shoulders. His T-shirt looked much more rumpled than usual. Then she noticed dark purple marks on his arm.

“Where’d you get that?” She pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and gasped at the sight of a huge new bruise. “Who did this?”

“Cut it out, Mom.” Sean pulled away and walked around the car to the passenger side.

“Ms. MacAvery?” The fun camp supervisor, Mrs. Madden, called. “Could I please speak with you?” It was practically a demand.