Kicker (DS Fight Club Book 1) by Josie Kerr Read Free Book Online Page A

might have rhyming names, but they could not have been more different. They both towered over her, which, at barely five feet tall, was not hard at all, but where Tig was towheaded, lean, and wiry, Dig was dark haired, bulky, and thickly muscled.
    Junior barked a laugh. “They’re not quite Mutt and Jeff, but close enough.”
    “Well, it’s nice to meet all of you.” Charlotte spoke to all of them, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of Tig.
    They stood there, looking at each other and grinning, and the band started back up. Tig leaned close to whisper in her ear.
    “Please give me a dance, Charlotte. You’ve got some moves, woman.”
    Charlotte smiled shyly at him but reached for his hand.
    Tig surprised her by spinning her onto the dance floor and launching into an East Coast Swing, complete with eggbeater and hammerlock moves. Charlotte laughed with glee and let Tig spin her around the dance floor.
    *****
    “So, Tig, huh?
    “Yes, ma’am.” He waited a few beats while he twirled her around, and then said, “There’s not many appropriate nicknames for Antigone.”
    “Your legal name is Antigone?” Charlotte’s brow furrowed and Tig threw his head back and laughed.
    “No, that’s not my given name. The name on my birth certificate is Trevor, but no one calls me that except my mama.”
    Charlotte swatted him lightly. “ You are a goof.”
    Tig spun her again and when he had her back in his arms, he held her a little bit firmer, a little bit closer to him, and Charlotte did not mind at all.
    “I prefer to think of myself as a goober.”
    “So why ‘Tig’?”
    Tig cleared his throat and licked his lips. “Because I have a tendency to bounce.”
    Charlotte frowned again, and Tig’s face softened as he touched a piece of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. That small change of expression made him seem much younger, but his light blue eyes still seemed to belong on a much older man.
    “How old are you?” she blurted.
    Tig looked uncomfortable. “How old do you think I am?”
    “I honestly have no idea. When I first saw you, I thought you were really young, like barely out of high school.”
    “Well, thank you for the ego boost, sweetheart,” he grinned. “I’m twenty-nine.”
    “Oh.” Oh God.
    “And how old are you , Miss Charlotte?”
    Charlotte squirmed a bit in his embrace, prompting Tig to loosen his hold on her just a bit.
    “Oh, no, don’t let me go.” Charlotte’s eyes widened at her blurted confession. Tig huffed a small laugh, but pulled her closer again. “I’m thirty-five, almost thirty-six, by the way.”
    “How almost?”
    “Like within twelve hours almost. Tomorrow’s my birthday.”
    “Well, happy birthday, Charlotte,” Tig whispered in her ear as he dipped her low, one strong arm holding her securely behind her back, the other hand hovering above her thigh as if he wanted to grab at it.
    He did not, but he did squeeze her the tiniest bit as he pulled her back to standing. Tig spun her again as the song ended, and Charlotte used her birthday wish for at least one more slow song.
    She got her wish as the strains of Buddy Holly began playing over the sound system. Tig held Charlotte firmly but gently in his arms and Charlotte had an insane urge to pull him down to her and kiss him for all she was worth.
    That lopsided grin appeared on his lips again, and he asked, “What in the world are you thinking?”
    Charlotte flushed and cursed her lack of poker face, which made Tig smile even wider as he waltzed with her around the dance floor.
    “Winnie the Pooh. That’s where I got my nickname. When I was little and driving my mama nuts, she enrolled me in a tumbling class because I was always climbing on shit and rolling around. One day during class, I was watching some of the older kids, and got it in my head that I could do an aerial from the top of a big balance beam.”
    “An aerial? Like one of those cartwheels with no hands?” Charlotte interrupted.
    “Exactly.