The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2) by Leslie North Page A
Authors: Leslie North
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chest tightened and she started to gasp for air. Dark spots danced at the edge of her vision. Just in case she pulled her inhaler from her purse and left it on the bed. Snuggling in close to Mason, she held him tighter.
The announcer’s voice came on and Avery finally saw a ring girl—a girl wearing almost nothing walking around with a sign, as if any guy was looking at anything but the amount of skin showing. Avery caught a breath and punched Mason’s arm. “You ever hang out with those girls and you are so much toast, mister.”
“And now, for the fight you’ve all been waiting for. In the red corner, wearing the black shorts is Dustin Caaaaaaldwellllll! In the white corner, wearing the green shorts is Shamus the ‘Fighting Irish’ MacDougallll!”
On the TV, Avery watched the other fighter climb into the ring and strut around. “He looks a lot bigger than Dustin. I thought you said the guys were supposed to be matched?”
Mason didn’t answer and Avery’s chest tightened even more. She reached for her inhaler, but it had gotten lost in the blanket. She couldn’t find it. The fight began. She watched Dustin move in close. She recognized the roundhouse kick he launched—but then it was just a lot of punching. Avery winced and put a hand on her chest. Dustin backed away. Somehow he managed to duck the other guy’s wild swings.
And then Dustin got hit.
Avery closed her eyes—and her chest closed, too. She gasped for a breathe—and found her throat closing and her chest shutting down. She tried to sit up, but the world swam. She could hear the crowd on the TV go wild about something, but her world narrowed to just the next breath. She needed to get to her inhaler—or to the call button for a nurse. She needed…
Something tightened around her hand.
She glanced down and saw Mason’s fingers twitch. For an instant she forgot to struggle to pull in the next breath. She glanced down at Mason and saw his eyelashes flutter—so dark against his skin now. His fingers twitched again, poking at the inhaler she’d lost. She grabbed it and took three hits from it.
The tightness and wheezing in her chest eased. Dragging in a slow breath, Avery smiled. “Can you hear me, baby?” She hit the nurses’ button and slipped her arm under Mason’s head again, glancing back at the TV when a roar erupted from it. “Wow, look at that. Dustin’s got that other guy on the run. I think he’s running out of breath faster than I was.”
Dustin landed several kicks and punches to the other fighter’s middle and then he let loose a string of kicks. Avery winced. She looked down at Mason and leaned close. “You really should be the one watching this. Come on, Mason—take a look. Please wake up. Please.”
She glanced back at the TV to see Dustin throw another kick. Now she could see that while Shamus had a longer reach and more size, Dustin was fast—and fit. The other fighter stumbled backwards and fell. Dustin followed him down, swinging his fists. The referee moved in and suddenly Dustin was on his feet and everyone was shouting.
Avery frowned. “What happened?”
She heard a low mumble. Her heart stopped and then thudded hard. She glanced down to see Mason’s eyes open a fraction. He wet his lips and whispered. “Won…he won. Water.”
“He won!” Avery leapt up from the bed, causing a groan to rise from Mason.
From narrowed eyes, Mason shot her a glare. Avery smiled and wrapped herself around him, soaking in his eyes. “It’s so good to see your eyes again. I missed them so much. I missed you. I’m so glad you’re awake... I thought I was going to lose you…”
“Never,” Mason croaked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Getting up, she got him some water, calling out for the nurses to come quick.
Chapter Eighteen
“I do not need a wheelchair.”
Avery put her hands on her hips and faced Mason. “And I am not going to be able to catch you if you fall on your face. Beck’s
The announcer’s voice came on and Avery finally saw a ring girl—a girl wearing almost nothing walking around with a sign, as if any guy was looking at anything but the amount of skin showing. Avery caught a breath and punched Mason’s arm. “You ever hang out with those girls and you are so much toast, mister.”
“And now, for the fight you’ve all been waiting for. In the red corner, wearing the black shorts is Dustin Caaaaaaldwellllll! In the white corner, wearing the green shorts is Shamus the ‘Fighting Irish’ MacDougallll!”
On the TV, Avery watched the other fighter climb into the ring and strut around. “He looks a lot bigger than Dustin. I thought you said the guys were supposed to be matched?”
Mason didn’t answer and Avery’s chest tightened even more. She reached for her inhaler, but it had gotten lost in the blanket. She couldn’t find it. The fight began. She watched Dustin move in close. She recognized the roundhouse kick he launched—but then it was just a lot of punching. Avery winced and put a hand on her chest. Dustin backed away. Somehow he managed to duck the other guy’s wild swings.
And then Dustin got hit.
Avery closed her eyes—and her chest closed, too. She gasped for a breathe—and found her throat closing and her chest shutting down. She tried to sit up, but the world swam. She could hear the crowd on the TV go wild about something, but her world narrowed to just the next breath. She needed to get to her inhaler—or to the call button for a nurse. She needed…
Something tightened around her hand.
She glanced down and saw Mason’s fingers twitch. For an instant she forgot to struggle to pull in the next breath. She glanced down at Mason and saw his eyelashes flutter—so dark against his skin now. His fingers twitched again, poking at the inhaler she’d lost. She grabbed it and took three hits from it.
The tightness and wheezing in her chest eased. Dragging in a slow breath, Avery smiled. “Can you hear me, baby?” She hit the nurses’ button and slipped her arm under Mason’s head again, glancing back at the TV when a roar erupted from it. “Wow, look at that. Dustin’s got that other guy on the run. I think he’s running out of breath faster than I was.”
Dustin landed several kicks and punches to the other fighter’s middle and then he let loose a string of kicks. Avery winced. She looked down at Mason and leaned close. “You really should be the one watching this. Come on, Mason—take a look. Please wake up. Please.”
She glanced back at the TV to see Dustin throw another kick. Now she could see that while Shamus had a longer reach and more size, Dustin was fast—and fit. The other fighter stumbled backwards and fell. Dustin followed him down, swinging his fists. The referee moved in and suddenly Dustin was on his feet and everyone was shouting.
Avery frowned. “What happened?”
She heard a low mumble. Her heart stopped and then thudded hard. She glanced down to see Mason’s eyes open a fraction. He wet his lips and whispered. “Won…he won. Water.”
“He won!” Avery leapt up from the bed, causing a groan to rise from Mason.
From narrowed eyes, Mason shot her a glare. Avery smiled and wrapped herself around him, soaking in his eyes. “It’s so good to see your eyes again. I missed them so much. I missed you. I’m so glad you’re awake... I thought I was going to lose you…”
“Never,” Mason croaked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Getting up, she got him some water, calling out for the nurses to come quick.
Chapter Eighteen
“I do not need a wheelchair.”
Avery put her hands on her hips and faced Mason. “And I am not going to be able to catch you if you fall on your face. Beck’s
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