Rope A Dope (paperback)

All Anika Armageddon wants in life is to hang out with cool people and to blow stuff up. As a professional stuntwoman, that doesn’t seem like a big ask. Her career is finally starting to take off, and everything she’s worked for is within her reach.

Steve Erikson has money, awesome friends, and no ambition. Nothing is missing in his life. He’s content to be the guy no one takes seriously, always ready with an inappropriate comment or two.

Anika and Steve begin a friendship rooted in a similar sense of humor and an even greater love for food.

When separate circumstances in their lives force them to reevaluate their futures, they find the perfect solution is to just marry one another. For business reasons.

Steve may not exactly feel like he’s marriage material, but he promises to be the best partner he can be to his new wife, and she promises the same. It doesn’t take long for Steve to realize maybe his life had been missing something all along.

They’re the perfect team.
They’ve prepared for every scenario.
Problem is, they never discussed what to do if he accidentally falls in love with her.

ROPE A DOPE is a full length contemporary romance and can be read as a standalone. It is book #4 in the Soaring Bird series by Heidi Hutchinson
Rated R for language and adult scenes (open door)

CHAPTER 1


ANIKA


The only thing worse than cracking your ribs after falling down a flight of stairs, was falling down a flight of stairs with ribs which were already cracked.
Sure, Anika could have said no. She could have told someone her ribs were cracked. She could have done a lot of things.
But it was the last stunt of the day. Not only that, but it was also the final sequence of a series finale that had given her job stability for seven years.
To say she was a little attached to the character would be an understatement. No way was she going to let Chad do the last stunt. In her mind, she was just as much the main character as the actress she doubled for.
They’d trained together, fought together, defeated evil together. She didn’t care if it killed her—she was going down the stairs again.
Which, considering her line of work, probably wasn’t the healthiest mentality.
But she was relying on the adrenaline to carry her through. It hadn’t failed her yet.
Besides, it was stairs. Taking a car hit the wrong way was more likely to sideline her. And since they’d done that yesterday without issue, she could handle one more tumble down the stairs.
“Cut!” Trent called. “Got it.”
Thank God, Anika thought. She rolled off the pad and slowly stood.
Well, if her ribs hadn’t been cracked before, they definitely were now.
Fuck.
Cracked ribs at thirty-years-old were different than cracked ribs at twenty.
She made her way over to Trent—the stunt coordinator and one of her oldest friends in the business—keeping her expression neutral.
The last thing she wanted was anyone to find out she’d injured herself. Trent wasn’t the worry, but others. The whisperers and gossips who could (would) make it something it wasn’t.
Maybe she was being paranoid. Or maybe, after ten years in the business, she’d learned from her own injuries and from the injuries of others, some shit you keep to yourself.
The show had had more than its fair share of scandal over the past season. She didn’t want to add “Stunt Person Forced to Do Stunt While Injured,” to the other inaccurate headlines.
Plus, stunt work was going through a series of tragedies on sets worldwide that the media was reporting with varying shades of erroneousness.
A handful of incidents had occurred where a stunt person was asked (bullied) into doing a stunt they knew was too dangerous. The worst had happened. The subsequent investigations and lawsuits fueled public speculation. The investigations confirmed that the incidents never should have happened. And the lawsuits were miniscule in comparison to what those families had suffered.
But because of the increased interest from the public, the media began to report every single injury and incident as if professional stunt work as a whole was facing a calamitous outcome.
And since the people reporting knew exactly zero about stunt work or what was considered “normal,” they put the blame in all the wrong places.
Anika suspected that a couple low level people in the studios were the “leaks” that were supplying the media reports with more false or exaggerated reports. Motivated by the attention, it made them feel more important. Which was an epidemic, in and of itself, in the industry.
“You okay?” Trent asked.
“Yep.” She planted her hands on her hips, ignoring the stinging in her chest. “Did we get it?”
He eyed her. He had to know she was injured. He’d been in the business twice as long as her and had seen it all.
He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his closely shaved head. “You know,” he started and she already knew what he was going to say. He’d said it before. A few times. Something along the lines of “you can trust me to have your back, stop hiding dumb shit from me.”
Because he was one of the good ones. He took care of his stunt people and he would never be one of those assholes who got someone killed.
“Your competitiveness is going to kill you someday.”
Hm. Well he had never said it quite like that before.
She made a face.
He rolled his eyes.
“Did we get the shot?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He snorted and turned back to the monitor. “Of course we got the shot.”
She tried not to feel smug as she watched the replay.
Gorgeous.
Who could fall down the stairs as convincingly as her? No one, that’s who.
Turning toward wardrobe, Trent joined her. They fell in step and nodded at crew members as they passed.
It had been a surreal day on set. It was the final day for filming the fight sequences, and unless they called her back for reshoots, she was done.
She’d probably come back for the wrap party in a couple weeks. It would be a huge adjustment not to have a steady job for a while. Seven years on the same set with many of the same people was not nothing.
Especially since when she’d gotten the job, she had no idea how long it would last.
Who knew AdoleScents would have turned into such a huge show? It was a show about a high school girl who ran her own private detective agency, was also a werewolf, needed her wolf side to gather the clues, but could never remember what happened when she was a wolf. It was slapstick and drama and angst wrapped into one.
Anika had loved doubling for Julie Shakespeare, the twenty-something actor who portrayed Ashina Blake, werewolf private eye.
They’d gotten close over the years. Hopefully they’d stay in contact.
“What’s next on your schedule?” Trent asked, sounding casual.
She side-eyed him but he kept his gaze forward.
“I have a couple commercials coming up. Driving and maybe a high fall. I’m waiting to get a call back on a thing in Atlanta that should take a few weeks. An indie project with fight sequences.”
She hadn’t been able to line up very many jobs during the final filming of AdoleScents. She’d be putting out feelers in the next few days though. She didn’t have a lot of money saved, but it was enough that she didn’t need to panic.
Yet.
Besides, her work on AdoleScents did a lot of the heavy lifting for her. She’d established a consistent reputation with others in her line of work. It would be easier for her to get a job now than it had been when she’d first been starting out.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Trent hummed low in his throat and stopped walking. She crossed her arms and faced him. He narrowed his dark eyes at her and took a breath.
She fought the urge to chew the inside of her cheek.
It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that Trent had gotten hired as the stunt coordinator for a massive superhero film that hadn’t been announced yet.
It was just a rumor.
And along with that rumor was the one about who he had already tapped to join him.
Because that was how you got hired for stunt work in the industry. No agents, no managers, very few auditions. Someone always knew someone who knew someone who could do a thing. And calls were made and you showed up to do anything from getting thrown through a window to jumping out of a plane.
If you did good work, you got to come back.
Trent glanced around at the people surrounding him. Finally, he settled his gaze on her.
“Keep your phone on you. And maybe keep your winter available.”
She lifted her eyebrows but didn’t reply.
He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “And don’t get hurt before then.” He patted her shoulder before walking away.
Anika rolled her lips inward and did her best to stifle her excitement.
Yesssss.
It was all finally happening.
Stunt work was her favorite thing in the world (besides pizza).
And if the rumors were true, if Trent was going to be the go-to guy on such a huge production, and if he brought her in…
That was so many ifs.
She changed back into her clothes, making small talk with the people around her, saying her goodbyes.
Julie came by and thanked her. They hugged and cried and promised to keep in touch. Wrapping up a project that had been running for this long felt like graduating high school. She’d been with these people every day for a huge portion of her life, and now they were off to do new things.
But with every hug, the pain in her chest increased as the adrenaline wore off and she knew she needed to get out of there before someone noticed.
It had been a while since she’d cracked a rib. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to heal. She had a driving commercial on Monday. That would give her the weekend to ice and rest.
The moment the door closed on the Dodge Ram she let out her first heavy sigh. She was going to be sore tomorrow.
All weekend more like.
Thankfully she didn’t live too far away from where they’d been filming that week. She’d be home in no time.
She needed a long soak in an ice bath and a beer.
Just one beer.
She needed to heal after all.
But one beer was the reward she was willing to give herself for wrapping another job and maybe being on Trent’s shortlist.
Shit. She was out of beer.
And ice.
The thought of stopping at the store and lugging bags of ice was enough to turn her stomach. Or maybe that was the pain catching up to her.
She asked her truck to call Spencer, her trainer and friend.
“Hey.”
“Do you have a ton of ice and a tub that would fit my big ass?” Anika asked.
Spencer hummed and started moving around. “Let me check.”
Some people might balk at how Anika referred to her body. But Spencer understood her pragmaticism.
Objectively speaking, Anika’s body was one to two sizes larger than the actresses she had to double for. It had to be. She needed the muscle to do the stunts that would cripple or kill someone less experienced. And muscle took up space.
Men generally wore more clothes so they could hide padding in various places. Women’s wardrobes tended to have less coverage. Anika compensated for that with extra muscle and kept her body fat percentage at a comfortable, sustainable level.
By Hollywood standards, she was a little thick.
She was fine with that.
In fact, she was proud of her mass. She worked hard to keep it.
Plus she was strong.
And her strength was way more important to her than most anything.
“I have plenty of ice, but I don’t have a—wait.” Spencer took the phone away from her ear and spoke to someone else. Then she came back. “Where are you?”
“About ten minutes from the gym.”
“I will have it ready for you when you get here.”
“Beer too?” Anika asked hopefully.
Spencer chuckled. “Fine. Beer too.”
“You are awesome,” Anika said, meaning it.
She hung up and turned Double Blind Study up as loud as she could stand it, and headed for the small gym in Huntington Beach that she’d made her part time home.
She used to work out in between specialized trainers at a luxury gym in LA. That’s where she meant Spencer Clementine. Spencer’s training style spoke to Anika’s inner masochist, and she decided that Spencer would be her trainer forever. Whether Spencer liked it or not.
And when Spencer quit the luxury gym because the manager was a douchebag, Anika had gone with her.
Recently, they’d become closer friends.
And Anika was grateful.
She liked having close friends nearby she could talk to and shoot the shit with on a consistent basis. Her work friends were always on set somewhere.
But Spencer had begun to include her in her friend group of professional surfers and beach bums. Anika liked to think she was fitting in all right.
She got along with all the women great. And most of the guys.
So far there had only been that one weird interaction with Steve.
The night they’d first met, he had fainted.
Straight up passed the fuck out in the middle of a honky-tonk karaoke. He’d come to, blamed it on low blood sugar, and never spoke to her again.
No really.
He never spoke to her again.
And from what she could tell, he talked all the fucking time. He never shut up. Until she entered the room and then he was silent. And kind of stiff.
It had become a major and unexpected blow to her ego.
Apparently he really had passed out from low blood sugar.
But everyone else seemed to like her just fine. Even if Steve often left the room when she was around.
She made it to Heavenly Health and parked in the near-empty lot. The sun was getting low in the sky and she wondered what time they were supposed to close.
Or if Spencer had plans.
Because as much as she wanted to soak in the ice, she really wanted to tell someone what Trent had said. She couldn’t tell any of her friends in the industry because that would open a whole sack of cats.
But she wanted to share it with someone.
She reached the front door and Spencer was already there, holding it open. “Go on back to the ladies’ locker room. We have a tub set up.”
Anika heard her lock the door behind them.
“We?”
“I had to call in reinforcements.” Spencer hurried ahead of her and pushed the door open to the locker room. Their eyes met and Spencer’s swam with concern and suspicion.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Anika tried to joke. But a twinge in her chest had her flinching.
“What happened?” Spencer asked gently.
Anika stopped in the locker room when she spotted the inflatable kiddie pool filled with water and ice.
“We didn’t have a lot of time,” Spencer explained apologetically.
“You’re amazing,” Anika said, meaning it.
“I’d love to take all the credit—” Spencer stopped when Steve walked into the locker room.
“Do you think this is enough ice? I have one more bag I can dump in there…” Steve’s voice trailed off when he spotted Anika.
“You helped set this up?” Anika asked.
Steve blinked once at her and then turned to Spencer. “What do you think?”
Spencer coughed and rolled her eyes. “Geezus, Steve,” she murmured.
“Thank you,” Anika said. She was annoyed that he was outright ignoring her and that reflected in her tone.
Spencer’s lips twitched and she lifted her eyebrows. “I have to go, like, right now. Bo and I have a dog to take over to her new foster family. Andrew is closing. He’s been told not to bother you.” She took a breath and Anika braced. “Steve has agreed to stay with you until you’re ready to head home. But no rush. You can stay as long as you want.”
Anika glanced at Steve who was staring at the floor and shifting back and forth on his feet.
“Cool,” Anika replied. This should be fun.
So much for hanging out with a friend. Steve couldn’t stand her. Any of the other guys—Brady, Adam, Kip, even Bo—and Anika would still be excited to share her news.
Oh well.
She turned back to the pool of ice and her body nearly sang with anticipation.
“I would hug you but I have a feeling you’re injured,” Spencer said, fishing for details.
“Eh.” Anika waved her away. “You have to go. Thank you for this. We’ll chat later.”
Spencer said goodbye and the locker door closed behind her. Steve still hadn’t moved or spoken.
The deathly silence was intermingled with the sounds of ice cracking as it melted.
Anika took a breath and stepped toward the kiddie pool.
“Can I—” Steve started in both words and motion. He stepped forward and stopped. “Do you need help?”
Anika squeezed her hands into fists at her sides.
Yes, she could use some help.
But Steve was clearly uncomfortable around her and she didn’t want to make it worse.
“Oh!” He snapped his fingers and left the locker room.
All right then.
Anika toed off her sneakers. She bent to take off her socks and groaned.
“Ow.” She righted herself and made a face. Maybe it was worse than she’d thought.
The door opened again and Steve returned with two folding chairs. He set them up, patted the seat of one while looking at her, and then left again.
Fine.
The chair would be helpful.
She sat down and reached for her socks again, when Steve returned.
She didn’t look up at him as she tried to bend toward her feet, taking slow breaths to ease into it.
But then large hands pushed hers aside and carefully peeling her sock off.
She sat back and watched Steve gently remove the other sock.
She couldn’t remember ever being this close to him.
He was massive.
Huge shoulders, broad back, even crouched at her feet he could look up and be eyelevel with her. What did that make him, six three?
His black muscle tee stretched and strained over his back muscles.
She didn’t know anyone she worked with who had muscles like that.
Maybe Robby Razzle.
Steve looked up and she was snared in his bright blue gaze.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it.
He nodded once and then stood, backing up.
She got to her feet, undid the button on her jeans. She saw Steve turn his back in her periphery and she almost snickered. Modesty wasn’t one of her attributes, but the gesture was sweet.
She dropped her jeans to the ground, still in her navy boy short underwear. Sexy? No. Practical? Hell yeah.
Her tank top was a bit more difficult to wrench over her head, but she dropped it into the pile of clothes she’d made.
She glanced down at her white sports bra.
Oh, good. It was one of her nicer ones. No holes, rips, or food stains.
She stepped into the pool and hissed at the chill. Slowly, she eased her way into sitting and sank back into the cold embrace.
“How, um, how long should you be in there?” Steve asked, his back still to her.
“You can turn around. The important parts are covered.” She eased further into the ice and breathed deep. “I like to soak for a good thirty.”
He turned toward her slightly but she noticed he didn’t look anywhere near her.
“Beer,” he declared suddenly and then left again.
Yessss. The beer.
He returned with a six pack. He set them down next to the pool, took one out, and removed the cap with the large silver ring on the third finger of his right hand.
“That’s a cool move,” she said, taking the bottle offered to her and nodding at his hand.
His gaze cut to hers, his expression unreadable.
He left again and she sighed.
Well, beer in an ice bath was what she’d prioritized in her thoughts. The company would have been a bonus so she could hardly complain.
She wouldn’t complain at all actually. Cracked ribs and all, she was grateful for this life she was allowed to live.
It was so much better than it used to be. And every year she added a little more to her happiness. Someday it would be all golden, no gray.
Steve came back in carrying a television and as the locker door shut behind him she was pretty sure she heard Andrew hollering about how he couldn’t do that.
She took a drink from her beer and watched as Steve set up the tv on one of the folding chairs and positioned it to it faced her. Then he pulled up the other chair next to her with the six pack between them. He messed with his phone for a minute and then held it out to her.
“You want to pick something to watch?”
She glanced from the app on his phone, to his watchful gaze, and back again.
“Um,” she shook her head once, trying to find words. “No. You can pick whatever. I’m fairly agreeable.”
He nodded once and started flipping through options.
So maybe Steve didn’t hate her. If he did, he was doing his best to be kind and she was a little speechless over that fact.
It wasn’t often people were kind just for the sake of it.
He settled on a preseason professional hockey game.
“Hmm,” she hummed relaxing even more. “I love hockey.”
“Me too.” He sniffed a laugh. “I don’t expect Los Angeles to do well this year without Best.”
She groaned even as her brain lit up with his response. “Right? I mean, I knew retirement was in his future, but I thought he had at least two more seasons.”
“That’s what I was saying,” Steve agreed. “At least two. Maybe three though. He was so strong last year.”
“Do you think it was contract negotiations and they called his bluff?” she asked, desperate to hold onto this conversation if only to build a bridge between them.
“If that’s what happened then LA’s owner is an even bigger idiot than I originally thought.”
She chuckled because she agreed.
“Hey, are you hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat.” Truthfully, she was starving. “One of my favorite things is pizza with beer and literally anything on television.”
His eyes came to her and his lips curved into the flirtiest smile she had ever seen on such a large man.
The Steve that had been avoiding her was nowhere to be seen. “What do you want on your pizza?”
“Everything.” She shrugged. “I like all of it.”
“Pineapple?” The way he asked sounded like both challenge and temptation.
“Obviously.”
He made an appreciative sound that sent tingles through her numbing limbs.
Well it wouldn’t be the first time that her love of food had accidentally turned her on.
“What do you like along with the pineapple?” he asked, his thumbs moving over the screen of his phone.
She closed her eyes and thought. “Pepperoni and jalapeno.” She smiled and opened her eyes.
Steve was staring at her.
He quickly looked away.
“What?” she asked on a laugh. “It’s good!”
He shook his head and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah, no. That’s my favorite is all.”
How about that? Hockey, pizza, and beer. Maybe they had common ground now and he’d stop doing the Cha Cha Slide out of the room when she entered.
“My sister works at a pizza place that’s close by,” Steve explained. “I’m texting her the order. My buddy Adam will pick it up for us.”
“I know Adam,” Anika said mostly to herself.
“Tall, ridiculously good looking, smells like a new car.”
She snorted.
Steve cut her a look. “How are you feeling? Need any Advil or anything?”
“If I have Advil, I can’t have this.” She held up her beer. He nodded in understanding.
“Can I ask what happened?”
Oh, my God, it’s happening. We’re making chit chat. We’re becoming friends, she thought excitedly. Slow your roll, girl. Don’t come on too strong.
“We were shooting this stunt where I had to fall down some stairs after a fight. Nothing I haven’t done a hundred times. But I…” She rolled her eyes and shook her head because it was so stupid. It wasn’t the kind of mistake she normally made. It was sloppy and reminded her of her early days. “I didn’t hit the stairs the right way. My fault. Got to the bottom, had knocked the wind out of myself. We didn’t get the shot—which happens. But it wasn’t until I was back at the top of the stairs that I started to suspect I’d cracked at least one, but maybe more than one rib.”
Steve looked horrified. “And you did it again?”
She shrugged. “I had to. That’s the job.”
“Should I take you to a hospital?’ he asked.
“No, no, no.” Anika chuckled. “They’ll just give me Tylenol and send me home. I’d still have to ice it and rest.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed her suspiciously.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “This is not my first time.”
“Didn’t you break your ribs when you did that spy movie in Madrid?”
Now it was her turn to be suspicious. She narrowed her eyes. “And my collarbone.”
He nodded, pursing his lips.
They held eye contact for a minute. He broke it first when his phone buzzed.
“Pizza is on its way.”
“That’s fast.”
“She’s a pro.” He dropped his phone back into his lap and went back to the game on the tv.
Anika’s limbs were reaching that point where they were painfully numb. The blissful reset of her nerve endings. A lot of people didn’t like ice baths.
A lot of people were probably considered relatively sane too.
As tempting as it was to stay in there until she couldn’t feel anything at all, she knew it was time to get out.
She looked around, trying to figure out how to do this.
“What do you need?” Steve asked.
“A towel? And probably help standing. I don’t trust my legs to get me up.”
Steve shot to his feet and grabbed a couple towels from the rack at the end of the locker row. He held one out to her.
She chuckled. “I hate to ask this, but can you help me up?”
His eyebrows dipped in a deep V and he pressed his mouth into a hard line.
It was as if their previous conversation hadn’t happened. He was back to being distant and quiet. She wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly left and didn’t come back.
“Unless Adam is almost here and then I can ask him,” she said. Assuming of course that he wasn’t as opposed to getting near her. “Or grab Andrew from out front,” she suggested.
What was the deal? Did she smell bad or something? She didn’t think so. Maybe he had an aversion to women?
No that didn’t fit. He was always hanging off the other females in their friend group.
It was just her he didn’t like.
Steve jerked his chin back like she’d offended him. Then he tossed the towel over one of his massive shoulders, came around behind her and dropped into a deep squat.
She lifted her arms so he could hook his under her armpits and lift.
Which he did. In one smooth motion.
She went from sitting in the pool to standing in the span of a breath.
He let her go and the soft cotton of the towel wrapped around her from behind. She took the towel from him and their fingers brushed. His were warm and she wanted to grab hold of them. She held the towel closed at her front.
“Step back. I got you.” His soft instruction was coupled with the slightest pressure on her hips as he guided her out of the pool. “You got it?” His breath warmed the shell of her ear as he waited for her to find her footing through the numbness.
“Yeah,” she managed to croak out.
Slowly his hands slid free of her hips.
Okay, so she hadn’t been on a date in a while.
But it wasn’t just that.
She couldn’t ever remember being touched with such care by such a physically powerful man.
Steve draped another towel over the folding chair and patted it. “Have a seat.”
She made her way over to the chair and Steve watched her carefully. Like he was waiting for her to keel over at any second. She sat down and tried her brightest smile on him.
“See? Didn’t fall apart on my way over.”
His serious expression didn’t crack.
“You are covered in bruises,” he said.
Not in the worried way her sister said it. It was more a statement of fact.
“Yes,” she agreed, trying to laugh it off. “I usually am.”
Again. Just part of the job.
Her gaze dropped to the television screen and it snagged on Steve’s clenched fists at his side. Her eyes darted back to his but he was already turning away.
She wanted to say something. Explain what he didn’t understand. Maybe bridge that gap that kept opening between them.
But she had no idea where to start.