Flirt With Me Read online

  Flirt With Me

  A With Me In Seattle Novel

  Kristen Proby

  Ampersand Publishing, Inc.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  With Me In Seattle Character Glossary

  Newsletter Sign Up

  Also by Kristen Proby:

  About the Author

  Flirt With Me

  A With Me In Seattle Novel

  By

  * * *

  Kristen Proby

  FLIRT WITH ME

  A With Me In Seattle Novel

  Kristen Proby

  Copyright © 2021 by Kristen Proby

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect are appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  * * *

  Cover Design: By Hang Le

  * * *

  Cover photo: Wander Aguiar

  * * *

  Published by Ampersand Publishing, Inc.

  * * *

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63350-086-0

  Chapter 1

  ~Hunter~

  Someone once told me that life gets easier as you get older. That as your children age, you settle into a nice rhythm in the day-to-day, worry less, enjoy more.

  Whoever said that is a fucking liar. Or never had kids.

  I’ve been a single dad for fifteen years. Not once in that time has it been easy.

  “Where the hell is she?” I mutter as I finally sit for the evening, ready to enjoy a beer and a basketball game.

  Rachel, the apple of my eye, said she’d be at her friend Kyla’s house for the night. But when I open the app on my phone to track her phone—an app she doesn’t know I added to her device—it tells me that she’s not at Kyla’s house at all.

  “Maybe they went for ice cream.” I sigh, already sure in my gut that they didn’t just innocently go out for dessert.

  Rachel’s always been a good girl, but since she hit puberty a couple of years ago, she’s made it her mission in life to test my patience.

  Hell, I retired from fighting so I could be around more, gone less. Sure, at thirty-six, my body was starting to suffer from the constant poundings, but fighting is all I know. I’ve been in the ring since I was younger than my daughter.

  It’s not about the millions of dollars that come in from every fight, or the sponsorships. I don’t give a rat’s ass about the attention or celebrity—much to my publicist’s dismay.

  It’s about the rush of being in that ring with another man, the skill it takes to outwit and outmatch him.

  Training for and being in the ring is my drug.

  But age and responsibilities dictated that I walk away. That, and the very real possibility that it could kill me.

  Fucking head injuries.

  If it weren’t for Rachel, I would have continued fighting until I died in the ring.

  The only thing I love more than the sport is my daughter. She’s the priority. She used to come with me when I traveled and then stayed behind with my parents when it became too much for her, and she needed to be in school.

  But now she’s too much for my parents, and I can’t have a kid who’s getting into trouble.

  I don’t want her to be like me.

  So, as I stare at the blinking red dot on my phone and will it to move, I sigh.

  I need to go find my daughter.

  I set the untouched beer on the kitchen counter, grab my keys, and leave my Seattle home in search of the one person on this planet that makes me want to yank my hair out.

  According to the map, she’s about ten miles from home, in a neighborhood that I know is residential. And when I slow my Rolls Royce in front of the brownstone, I scowl.

  It looks like something out of an eighties movie. A whole bunch of cars line the street, and the music coming from the building can probably be heard all the way downtown at the Space Needle.

  The fact that there aren’t cops here is shocking.

  I double-park the car, and when I climb out, I point to a kid who’s leaning against his Honda, trying to charm a girl.

  “You.”

  He looks my way. “Yeah?”

  “See this car?”

  His eyes widen when he glances at my sleek, black Rolls. “Yeah. Nice ride, dude.”

  “If even one speck of dust is on it when I come out of that house, you’re the one I’m going to kill for it. Got it?”

  “Sure.” He swallows and then narrows his eyes at me. “Hey, you’re Hunter Meyers. The fighter.”

  “That’s right. And if anyone dicks with my car, we’ll have a problem.”

  He just nods. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

  “Good.”

  It’s a hot summer night in Seattle. The windows of the house are wide-open. Along with the blaring hip-hop music leaking out, there are laughs and cheers, a girl’s squeals.

  They’re having a hell of a time.

  I’m going to kill her.

  I stalk right inside, my eyes narrowed and scanning the sea of kids. Jesus, nobody here can be over the age of seventeen. Red Solo cups litter every surface, and I’m immediately taken back to my misspent youth.

  But this time, it’s my daughter, and I know what happens at parties like this.

  Hell, no.

  I move quickly, skimming faces. No Rachel.

  But when I glance down, the red dot is still here, at this location.

  She has to be here.

  I climb the stairs and start opening doors. Thankfully, the rooms are empty. I haven’t seen anyone losing their virginity.

  But when I open the door at the end of the hallway and flip on the light, my worst fears are on full display, right before me.

  “Oh, my God.” Rachel’s face pales as I see red. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  “You. Shut it.” I glare at her and turn my wrath on Derek, the nineteen-year-old kid from the gym I practically live at. The same gym Rachel comes to after school. “You’ll meet me at the gym at eight a.m., or I’ll come find you.”

  I take Rachel’s hand and pull her up off the bed. Thank Jesus and all the saints she’s still clothed.

  They were making out, and Derek’s hand had made its way up her shirt, but he didn’t get past second base.

  If he had, he’d be bleeding right now.

  “Dad, this is so embarrassing.”

  “Good.”

  I pull her down the stairs, through the house, and outside.

  A small group of boys stands around my car. No one’s touching it, but they’re looking.

  I can’t blame them. It’s a hell of a ride.

  “Get the fuck out of my way,” I growl, and the sea of boys parts for us.

  I open the passenger side and wait for my pissed-off daughter to sit, and then I walk around the hood of the car, find the kid I spoke to when I parked, and pass him a bill.

  “Good job.”

  I get behi
nd the wheel as the kid stammers and stares at the hundred in his hand and then drive off.

  “I can’t believe this,” Rachel mutters.

  “That makes two of us.” I drag my hand down my face and glance her way. Her arms are crossed over her belly, her shoulders sagging. She’s pouting. “Are you seriously pouting because I caught you in a lie, tracked you down, and pulled your ass out of there before you did something monumentally stupid with that asshole, Derek?”

  “He’s not an asshole,” she retorts in anger. “I wasn’t drinking or doing drugs. I just wanted to be with my friends.”

  “Should you get an award for not drinking or doing drugs when you’re not supposed to be doing those things anyway?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  Oh, but I do. “I’ve been your age—”

  “Yeah, and I’ve never been yours,” she says before I can finish.

  God, I love that she’s strong-willed.

  And it pisses me right off.

  “We can’t do this, Rach.” My voice is quiet now. Getting riled up and raising my voice doesn’t help anything. I want her to hear me. “You’re fifteen. I’ve already retired so I can be with you more. We have a great home. You go to a good school. Grams and Gramps are nearby, ready to help us out at a moment’s notice. And yet you still pull this shit. So, I guess we’re moving.”

  She spins in the seat and stares at me in horror. “What?”

  “I’m done. I can’t just lock you in your room all the time. I can’t just take everything away. Your friends here are shit. And if the changes I’ve already made haven’t helped, then something else has to give because right now I feel like we’re both constantly being punished.”

  “No, I don’t want to move.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want a daughter who does whatever the fuck she wants, despite what I say. So, here we are. We need a change of pace.”

  Rachel shakes her head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

  I don’t reply to her as I grab my phone and call the non-emergency line for the police department.

  “Yeah, I need to report a party with underage drinking.”

  I walk through the doors of Sound Fitness at just before eight the next morning. I already dropped Rachel off at school.

  She’s not speaking to me.

  I can live with that.

  The dude that had his lips and hands all over my kid last night is a young fighter who’s been hanging around the gym for the past couple of years. He has an attitude, but most of us do.

  The attitude isn’t what bothers me.

  I wave at the owner, Ben, and breeze back to the locker room, where I change clothes, grab the tape for my hands, and walk back out to the ring that sits in the middle of the space.

  I’ve been using this ring for training for more than twenty years. The previous owner, Rich McKenna, is the reason I’m not in jail and instead fell in love with fighting.

  His son, Nate, is my friend.

  Those at this gym are my family.

  I like that Ben made improvements but didn’t change the atmosphere, the vibe of the place. It’s my second home.

  When I approach the ring, I see Derek walking through the door.

  I knew he’d come.

  He’s asked me for help with his training in the past. I’m about to train him on a life lesson.

  One he won’t soon forget.

  “You wanted to see me?” He raises his chin defiantly.

  “Get in the ring.”

  He frowns. “I’m not dressed—”

  “Get in the motherfucking ring.”

  I duck under the ropes and drop my head from side to side then stretch my back. When he stands on the platform, I move in.

  “Hey!” His hands come up, and fear fills his eyes. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  “No?” I walk around him. I want to keep him guessing on what I might do next.

  And I need to move away so I don’t just rip his throat out.

  “Nah, I thought you wanted to talk about last night.”

  “Oh, I do.” I grin—a humorless, toothy smile. “How old are you now, Derek?”

  “Nineteen.” He puffs up his chest.

  “And do you know how old my daughter is?”

  He fumbles for a second but then shrugs. “Fifteen, I guess.”

  “Fifteen.” I bounce on my toes. “Do you make a habit of messing around with underage girls?”

  “Look, man, it wasn’t like that. She came on to me.”

  “Wrong answer.” I spin and hit him in the chin with my elbow, but I don’t hit him hard.

  I want him to stay conscious.

  “Fuck!” He cups his chin. “Jesus, Hunter.”

  “That’s Mr. Meyers to you,” I reply. “My daughter is a minor. You are an adult. In what universe did you think it was okay to put your hands on her?”

  “Listen—”

  “If you give me more shit about her coming on to you, you won’t walk out of here today.”

  He swallows hard and rethinks. “I like her. She’s hot. And funny.”

  “I’m going to give you some advice. You’re always asking me for it, so here it is. Are you listening?”

  He nods and keeps his eyes on mine.

  “Don’t fuck around with any underage girls. Ever. It’ll only get you into trouble. Keep your head in the ring. Keep your dick in your pants. If your dick happens to make its way out of your pants, make sure she’s over the age of fucking consent. Do you want to end up in jail?”

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to kill you?”

  His eyes widen. “No.”

  “Because that’s what’s going to happen if I find out that you’ve even so much as looked at Rachel again. She’s too young for you, D.”

  “Yeah.” He sighs and pushes his hand through his blond hair. “Yeah, okay. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I just like her.”

  “I like junk food, and I can’t have that, either.” I get close to him so only he can hear. We’ve lured in quite the crowd. “Touch her again, and you’ll regret it. I promise you that.”

  “I got it.”

  I nod and walk away from him, confident that I’ve just solved that problem.

  Now, to work on the next.

  I make my way to the locker room and change again. I’d normally spend a few hours here at the gym, working out and training, but I need to set some things in motion.

  I’ve just grabbed my bag when Nate walks through the door and grins when he sees me.

  “Been a while,” he says and shakes my hand. “That last fight in Vegas was a damn good one, man. I’m sorry I missed it.”

  “Thanks.” The last fight. I still haven’t quite wrapped my head around it.

  “What are you up to now?”

  “Finding a place to move with Rachel. She’s been getting into trouble, hanging with kids she shouldn’t. I just had to shake down Derek because I caught him with his hands on her last night.”

  Nate’s eyebrows shoot up. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah, exactly. It’s time I move her out of the city.”

  “Where are you thinking of going?”

  I blow out a breath. “I’m not sure. I want a smaller town for her, a slower pace. But I don’t want to go too far. My parents are here and not getting any younger, you know?”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Nate nods. “Julianne has family on a little island nearby. It’s just a ferry ride away. It’s a nice place, definitely what you described. You should check it out.”

  “If it’s that close, I’ll look into it. Maybe I’ll find a nice place on the water. Enjoy the quiet for a while.”

  “That’s how you know you’re getting old. When the peace and quiet looks appealing.”

  I snort. “I’ve had nothing but chaos for my entire adult life. I’ll take the quiet. Rachel’s going to stay with my parents for a few days. I think I’ll check out this island.”

  “I’ll text you the de
tails. Keep me posted on it.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  I leave the locker room with a new purpose.

  Looks like I’m headed to the beach.

  With Rachel safely tucked away with my parents, I made my way over on the ferry last night and checked into the vacation rental I reserved online.

  Rachel still isn’t speaking to me and has been pretty mellow since the other night, so I trust that she won’t give Mom and Dad a hard time.

  I plan to be here for two days to look at some property and get a feel for the place. I did some research. The schools are ranked well, there’s little to no crime, and it seems to be a pretty laid-back place.

  I would never have considered a small town when I was younger. I wanted the action, the fast pace of the city.

  But this is what’s best for Rachel and me. And, so far, I like what I see.

  A small village with a few restaurants, shops, and cafés. There’s a pub that reminds me of many I visited when I was in Ireland, and I’m headed that way for dinner.

  The neighborhoods are well kept and nice. There are some beautiful homes for sale on the cliffs overlooking the ocean, and I have an appointment with a realtor to look at several tomorrow.

  I push my way into O’Callaghan’s Pub and feel the grin spread over my face. It’s as if someone picked up a pub from Ireland and slapped it down right here in Washington.

  I make my way through the people seated at tables, listening to the musicians playing on the small stage in the corner, and find an empty stool at the bar.

  I sit and turn to take it all in.

  There’s dancing and drinking, and plenty of food.