Read Fight to the Finish (First to Fight #3) for Free Online

on her friend’s pristine floor.
    â€œOkay, okay! Put the muffin down. Asshole.”
    â€œJerkface,” Kara shot back, very maturely, from the ease of long friendship.
    â€œCome on, Kara. He’s into you. He’s an awesome guy. He’s insane to look at, with all those bronze muscles and that dark hair. And you know how, even if he’s shaved like, ten minutes ago, he still looks like he’s got stubble? And those eyes . . .” Marianne sighed.
    â€œUh, remember Brad? The Marine you chose? And love? And are probably going to marry and make babies with?”
    Marianne shook her head a little, as if coming out of a dream. “I’m taken, not blind. The guy’s seriously hot. And he’s awesome to boot. How many men are there in the world that have both the looks and the personality to match, with the added bonus of intelligence? Five?”
    â€œAnd you and Reagan got two of them. Very unsporting.”
    â€œI know.” Smug with it, Marianne took another bite of her muffin. “You really should sell these things, you know. They’re actually good, as compared to some of those other allergen-free mixes we’ve tried.”
    â€œOwning my own kitchen and distribution and the start-up costs . . .” Kara sighed. She’d looked into it. Nearly ten years of baking and cooking for her allergic-to-everything son hadtaught her enough tricks of the trade that she could make most things palatable. Sadly, she knew they would never compete with the real deal, but as far as substitutions went, it was acceptable.
    â€œYou should at least create a cookbook. That’s an almost zero startup cost. If you can’t get it published, you could make one. Self-publish it. You’ve got such a huge blog following, they’d totally be behind you.”
    Somehow, that one hadn’t pinged her radar. “Hmm.” She broke off another piece and ate it thoughtfully. “Maybe. It’s just that teaching and the blog and keeping up with Zach’s schedule really keeps me so busy, it’s hard to justify the additional time. I have to sleep at some point.”
    â€œSleep is overrated.” Brad walked in, waving to Kara and bending down to press a kiss to the top of Marianne’s head. He made his way to the ice machine, well familiar with the routine by now, tossing his knee brace on the table next to Kara’s.
    â€œSo you proved this morning with my wake-up call,” Marianne said, a gleam in her eye.
    â€œEw. No. Stop.” Kara covered her ears with her wrists—her fingers were too crumby—and hummed. “You two can’t do that crap with an audience. It should be illegal.”
    â€œShe’s jealous,” Marianne yelled at Brad, clearly for Kara’s benefit. “She could be getting some but she’s being
stubborn
about it.”
    Kara flipped her off, then hopped down off the table. “I’m setting up early and stretching. In the gym. In private. With no wisecracks from you. Brad,” she added as she grabbed her tote from behind Marianne’s back, “you’ve got your hands full with this one. Good luck.”She grinned as her friend flopped a little with the force.
    â€œI’ll need it,” he agreed as he settled the ice bag over his knee. Marianne growled and stood, probably to punch him in the arm. Kara left before she could get caught in the middle.
    *   *   *
    GRAHAM entered the gym with sweating palms. It was yoga day, which translated in his mind to Kara Day. Capital letters, because it was that important. He scanned quickly for Zach, but reminded himself that wasn’t to be expected. It was enough that she was here.
    Reagan clacked in behind him. He knew it was her before he turned around. The heels she wore habitually were unlike any other sound in the sweltering, dark gym. “Good morning, Graham. You’re a bit