Can’t Fight It: an MMA Ménage Romance

By Ranae Rose

When an MMA champion is faced with the sudden return of his former training partner, he must reconcile his unconquerable attraction to the man who abandoned him with their mutual desire for Lila, a woman who – like the rest of the MMA world – has no idea about their past.

A real fighter knows his strengths, his weaknesses. He fights and lives with them in mind, no holds barred. And Grant isn’t just a fighter; he’s a champion.
His weakness is Daniel, an up-and-coming welterweight who once lived, breathed and trained with him before skipping town for the West Coast.

Daniel’s weakness is Grant, a light heavyweight champion who disrupted his life with an addictive intensity he’s never found in anyone else and left him reeling.

Lila is a woman who grew up cageside, a rose among thorns. She’s the only one they’ve ever wanted as badly as they want each other, and they can’t fight the attraction. Can she?

Can’t Fight It is a smoking hot standalone M/M/F ménage romance. Not part of a series.

Previously published in 2015 as Gemini Rising by Fated Desires Publishing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ranae Rose
• Release date: Jan 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311082565

Ranae Rose

Hi, I’m Ranae, author of 30+ romance novels and novellas. My works include the Inked in the Steel City Series, Lock and Key Series, South Island PD Series and more. I began writing romance in 2011 in my early twenties, and the romance book community has been a source of joy ever since.I live in the South with a husband who’s even better than any of the heroes I’ve written, two kids, two cats who think they run the show and a dog who tolerates us all. In my free time, I’m a voracious reader, avid cook, and possibly the world’s most enthusiastic amateur urban gardener.

Book preview

CAN’T FIGHT IT

AN MMA MÉNAGE ROMANCE

RANAE ROSE

eBooks are not transferable. This book may not be sold or given away. Doing so would be an infringement of the copyright.

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are products of the author’s imagination and are in no way real. Any resemblance to real events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Can’t Fight It

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Ranae Rose

Cover model photos by: Nolte Lourens, Artem Furman and Sepavone

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

CAN’T FIGHT IT

When an MMA champion is faced with the sudden return of his former training partner, he must reconcile his unconquerable attraction to the man who abandoned him with their mutual desire for Lila, a woman who – like the rest of the MMA world – has no idea about their past…

A real fighter knows his strengths, his weaknesses. He fights and lives with them in mind, no holds barred. And Grant isn’t just a fighter; he’s a champion.

His weakness is Daniel, an up-and-coming welterweight who once lived, breathed and trained with him before skipping town for the West Coast.

Daniel’s weakness is Grant, a light heavyweight champion who disrupted his life with an addictive intensity he’s never found in anyone else and left him reeling.

Lila is a woman who grew up cageside, a rose among thorns. She’s the only one they’ve ever wanted as badly as they want each other, and they can’t fight the attraction. Can she?

CHAPTER 1

Lila’s fingertips chilled as she reached into the mini-fridge behind the reception counter and pulled out a couple teddy-bear-shaped ice packs.

Here you go. She stood and flashed a smile across the counter at the sweaty, bloody man who never failed to brighten her work day.

What the hell is this? Grant Roth held out one huge hand and allowed Lila to place the bear on his palm.

His hands were calloused from Brazilian jiu-jitsu training, red at the knuckles from stand-up sparring. His short, blond hair was messy, and he had a fresh black eye.

Your lip is bleeding, Lila said, kicking the fridge shut, and then leaning on the counter.

Grant just kept staring at the frosty little bear, occasionally raising his gaze to meet her eyes.

She never would have admitted it, but, every time his eyes met hers, her stomach got all knotted up and flooded with butterflies. Grant had a sinfully hot body, and, while she was used to seeing those—working the counter at Grundy’s MMA Gym had its benefits—his was exceptional. Which made it even more fun to tease him.

I saw you in the cage literally two minutes ago, she said, tipping her head toward the paneled sparring area in the back. I know you didn’t shower afterward. And I figure if you’re in such bad shape that you can’t handle a shower, you need all the help you can get. The teddy bear is for your eye.

He held her gaze, staring down his slightly crooked nose at her. He was a solid six feet tall, which gave him a good six inches on Lila. Not that she felt daunted. Being raised by her uncle had granted her immunity to any intimidation she might otherwise have felt at the sight of a light heavyweight fighter fresh out of a rough sparring match.

Is that right? His face split in a sudden, brilliant grin. A little blood trickled down his chiseled jaw, but he just wiped it away with the back of his hand. Well, I’ll have you know I’m in great shape. I just didn’t have time for a shower today. But thanks. Thanks a lot.

He pressed the bear against his cheekbone. I get to keep this, right?

Like I’d want it back with sweat and blood all over it.

She’d found them on clearance at a dollar store and had snapped up a couple dozen just for fun. Keeping them in the freezer bin inside the fridge that held bottled water and her lunch added a little humor to her long days spent at the desk, monitoring the flow of fighters from dawn till dusk.

I’ll treasure it forever, Grant said. By the way, aren’t you going to ask why I’m so busy?

I wasn’t going to, no.

She had to fight a smile. Grant was a talker, and, unlike some of the guys who frequented the gym, he wasn’t afraid to linger at the desk and chat with her. Some of the other guys were. She knew it was because her uncle owned the place.

Fifteen years ago, her uncle had been something of a legend in the MMA world, back when the sport had been less popular. Less regulated. Less safe, if you could call it safe now. Not exactly the kind of guy you wanted to piss off.

Uh-huh. I see how it is. Well, not that you asked, but it’s my birthday, and I’m heading out with some of the guys for drinks.

So, that explained the mass exodus of fighters she’d noticed about fifteen minutes earlier.

There’s an open invitation for anyone who wants to join in. He arched a brow at her, an effect that was diminished by the blood trickling from his lips again. That includes you.

Who all’s going?

He’d piqued her interest, though she tried not to let it show. Grant was popular with the other guys, mostly because he was so good at what he did. For a big guy, he was remarkably fast on his feet and was known for ending fights by knocking his opponents out cold.

Grant shrugged. A bunch of the guys. What do you say?

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and looked around the almost empty gym. I’ll have to ask my uncle. I’m supposed to hang around till eight.

C’mon, it’s Friday night. Live a little.

She was just about to reply when a blur of motion caught her eye.

Hey! she cried out. Aren’t you forgetting something?

Daniel Ashmore stopped in his tracks. He was nearly six feet of solid muscle and had joined Grundy’s a few months ago. He wore a faded T-shirt from a gym Lila had never heard of, and the cotton clung to his chiseled torso like a second skin. He seemed to be in a hurry, too. What was up with that?

Normally, he stopped to talk to her, much like Grant.

Are you heading out for drinks too? she asked as he turned toward her.

Drinks? With you? His frown slowly gave way to a smile.

"Well, not just me. It’s Grant’s birthday, and apparently everyone’s invited out for drinks."

Although Daniel hadn’t been at Grundy’s long, Lila knew he was acquainted with Grant. They’d just finished beating the crap out of each other in the sparring ring. Like Grant, Daniel bore his share of bumps and bruises and didn’t appear to have showered.

Oh. Daniel seemed nonplussed. He didn’t look at Grant.

Feel free to come, Grant said. I’ll buy you a drink since your birthday was just a couple days ago.

Daniel looked at Grant now, his expression uncharacteristically sober. Usually, he smiled when he spoke to her. Not now. Maybe it was just his fat lip distorting Lila’s perceptions. Normally, he was every bit as gregarious as Grant, which was why she liked him.

We’re meeting at Shepherd’s in thirty minutes, Grant said. Guess I’ll see both of you there.

He walked out before Lila or Daniel could say a word.

So, what am I forgetting? Daniel seemed a little brighter now that he and Lila were alone.

His question shouldn’t have pleased her as much as it did.

She held up the second teddy bear. For your lip. You, uh, look a little sore.

She’d saved the lilac one for him. Her fingers had melted its frosty coating, but it was still ice-cold.

He took the ice pack and stared at it as if it were an alien artifact. Is this some kind of new gym policy you’re implementing behind your uncle’s back?

Lila grinned. Uncle Dave already knows about them. He thinks they’re hilarious. Anyway, these were on sale, and I figured tough guys like you aren’t afraid of a little old teddy bear, right?

Daniel grimaced.

I don’t know how you’re going to get any drinking done with a lip like that, she said.

He pressed the bear to his mouth, his eyes locking with hers. So thoughtful of you. Thanks a lot. Tell you what. I’ll buy you a drink tonight, to say thanks.

A spark of amusement mingled with pleasure flared inside her. No way, birthday boy. If anything, it’ll be the other way around.

Daniel frowned. Fucking Grant. I wish he’d kept his mouth shut.

If you know him, you realize he’s incapable of doing that, right?

Daniel shook his head. I know him.

He didn’t elaborate, just shifted his gaze toward the door, still frowning.

Anyway, you’re lucky to have a June birthday. Mine’s December 10th, and Christmas always steals the spotlight.

Daniel smiled, despite his fat lip. It’s hard to imagine anyone or anything stealing your spotlight.

She grinned and blushed a little, happy to see his sulky mood lift. So I’ll see you at Shepherd’s? If I can convince my uncle to stay here and clean the mats without me, that is.

Daniel nodded. Need a ride?

She shook her head. It’s only five blocks from here.

You shouldn’t walk alone.

She just smiled. Spoken like someone who’s never been on the receiving end of one of my elbows. You didn’t think I made it twenty-four years without learning any moves from my uncle, did you?

Daniel didn’t seem amused. Ask your uncle to walk with you. It’s not the best bar in town.

Lila pretended she hadn’t heard. Actually, Daniel was sounding a lot like her uncle, the consummate hard-ass worry wart. At least when it came to her.

Hold on to that teddy bear, she said. You’ll need it if you plan to spar with Grant again. Don’t think no one noticed you two were trying to take each other’s heads off.

She rounded the counter and started for the door on the far side of the gym, which led to a staircase to the apartment above. See you in half an hour.

She resisted the urge to shoot a last, lingering look over her shoulder at Daniel. Mostly because she didn’t want him to know how much she enjoyed looking.

When she reached the upstairs, she found her Uncle Dave in the kitchen with his toolbox, messing with the fridge.

It’s still broken? she asked.

He grunted. Fucking piece of shit.

Good old Uncle Dave. Maybe we should call a repairman.

He looked up, raising his eyebrows until they threatened to merge with his buzz-cut black hair. No way! I can handle this. I looked it up on the Internet. I’m not giving up now, after all the time I’ve spent working on this sorry thing.

She decided not to point out that they’d already lost two rounds of groceries to the fridge’s antics. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes it didn’t. It was only a few years old, so there was no reason for it to be crapping out. Yet Dave refused to buy a new one or call a repairman. The same tenacity that had made him a champion in the ring made him the world’s most stubborn DIY warrior. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than fixing the fridge himself because, in his eyes, calling a professional would mean losing a fight.

I’d like to skip out early tonight, she said.

The muscles in his enormous arms flexed as he wielded his tiny wrench. She tried not to snort.

I hope you don’t mind. It’s Grant’s birthday, and apparently everyone’s heading to Shepherd’s for drinks.

Another grunt.

You’re invited too, she added.

He paused long enough to wave a hand. Nah. I’ve gotta fix this fridge. And someone’s gotta clean the mats. You go ahead. I’ll take care of things here.

Lila wasn’t surprised. Her uncle rarely cut loose. Instead, he lived like he was fifteen years younger than he really was and still perpetually training for a fight. No alcohol, no late nights. Clean eating and early-morning workouts. Lila figured the routine had become so ingrained that he didn’t know how to stop.

One other thing, he said, still kneeling in front of the fridge.

What’s that?

Text me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll stop by and walk you back. I don’t want you out on the streets alone after dark.

Lila