Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance)

by Pat White

  “Thanks, I will.”

  “And have your wrestler rub cod liver oil on the balls of your feet to keep them soft, like I showed you.” With one last smile of perfect white teeth, Bradley disappeared into the arena.

  Cod liver oil. She shivered. Now that she wouldn’t miss.

  “Time to get ready,” she whispered, heading for the talent entrance.

  But she’d never be totally ready for this show, especially since it was anything but a performance.

  ***

  At least he wasn’t fighting tonight, Jack thought, squirting his hair with styling gel to keep it under control. Damn, he didn’t seem to be able to keep anything under control these days: his hair, his body, or his heart.

  “Hell,” he muttered into the mirror tacked onto the cement wall of the dressing room. Thinking about it wasn’t going to make it hurt any less. He was doing the honorable thing for once and he should be good with that.

  If only the unbearable ache in his chest would go away.

  He suspected it would lessen once Frankie was completely out of his life.

  Like that would ever truly happen? As long as he stayed in this business and worked for Sully, as long as Jack breathed, he wouldn’t be rid of her—the memories of her tight little fist, her sweet kisses and tender touch that drove him insane.

  At least by signing the contract he’d made sure she could go on with her life without having to worry about her uncle. The love she felt for Sully was remarkable. If only he could have earned that kind of love from her. A pang throbbed in his chest.

  Somebody shoot me and put me out of my misery.

  “Almost ready?” Billings asked from the door.

  “Sure. What’s the angle?” He grabbed his Stetson.

  “Tatianna is going to fight for your honor tonight. You escort her to the ring and take a seat behind the announcer’s table. We figure fans will love to hear you work the mic.”

  “Sally’s okay with this?” They walked toward the Monkey Tunnel.

  “She’s all set. She’s on the card to fight Luscious Leeza.”

  Jack pictured the petite, large-breasted Sally facing off against the muscled Leeza. “That should be interesting.”

  “I think you’ll find tonight’s show very interesting. A lot of twists and turns,” he said, scribbling on his clipboard.

  “I don’t like surprises.” Jack slowed his pace.

  “Hey, all you have to do is talk. Should be easy for a motor mouth like you.”

  Jack chuckled at the irony. His persona was the epitome of the strong, silent type, but tonight he was expected to add color to the announcer’s commentary.

  “Who’s behind the mic?”

  “Prince Priceless.”

  “This gets better and better,” he said, sarcastic.

  “Just wait,” Billings muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, nothing.” His eyes gleamed.

  The hair bristled on the back of Jack’s neck.

  “Bill?”

  “There’s Sally.” He motioned ahead.

  Dressed as Tatianna, she sauntered up to Jack, her breasts spilling over the top of her two-piece costume. All wrong, she was all wrong.

  She wasn’t Frankie.

  “Hey, big guy.” She looped her arm through his. “You ready to make some music?”

  She leaned forward to kiss him but he turned his cheek, avoiding lip-to-lip contact.

  “Hey,” she protested.

  “When do we go on?” he asked Billings.

  “About ten minutes, depending on the heat from the crowd. They’re really dead tonight. We might have to call this match early. That’s why I want you to be ready.”

  “I’m ready,” Sally purred, running her blood-red, fake fingernails across Jack’s chest.

  Damn, how he missed the feel of Frankie’s well-trimmed fingers grazing his skin.

  “We’re not on yet, sweetheart.” He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand.

  “You’re a real poop, you know that? Here I thought we could have a little fun, like we did in Tulsa that one time. Remember?” Her eyes gleamed.

  “Nope.” And he didn’t. He’d blocked out anything and everything that came before Frankie McGee.

  “Jerk!” She shoved at his chest and walked away from him.

  Good. Maybe if he aggravated her he’d be safe from getting mixed up about who he was and what he was doing with Tiger Lady this time around.

  “The crowd is falling asleep. They’re calling the match,” Billings said, waving Jack over.

  He walked up beside a pouting Sally.

  “Ready?” He took her arm. She wouldn’t look at him.

  The music started and he led Sally down the aisle. The same fans who seemed nearly comatose a second ago screamed, shouted, and waved signs professing their allegiance to Jack and Tatianna.

  But this wasn’t Tatianna. The real Tatianna was curled up on a couch back in Boston with her accountant fiancé, her perfect man, living her perfect life.

  He waved his Stetson at the crowd and forced a smile. Time would fix things. A few weeks from now he wouldn’t even remember the fascinating color of Frankie’s eyes or the scent of her body wash.

  Except every time he saw a rainbow or spied wildflowers blooming in a garden.

  He sucked in a quick breath of air. This would pass. It had to.

  As directed, he led Sally to the metal stairs but she didn’t let go of his hand.

  “Kiss me. We are man and wife,” she challenged.

  He complied, hating the feel of her lips and the pinch of those fingernails as they dug into his shoulder muscles.

  The crowd roared; his temper flared.

  He gripped her arms and broke the kiss. “Enough,” he growled, pushing her away.

  Grinning, she acted as if she’d won this round. He was sick of games, manipulation…the whole damn thing.

  She climbed the stairs and stepped into the ring. With a flip of her feathers and a wiggle of her behind, she had the men in the audience practically drooling. Couldn’t they see this wasn’t the real Tatianna? Didn’t they miss the wobbly hitch in her step or the awkward but determined snap of her whip? Sally didn’t even reach for the piece of leather tied to a belt around her waist.

  Prince Priceless cracked his fake smile to welcome Jack to the announcer’s table. The Prince would get in bed with the devil himself if he thought it would earn him a chance at fame.

  “Welcome, Black Jack. What a night we’ve got in store for the fans!”

  Jack put on the headset. “Thanks, Prince.”

  “So, any predictions about this match? Have you been giving Tatianna some personal pointers?” He raised his eyebrows. Twice.

  Jack glared at him.

  “Come on, Black Jack. The fans want to know how it’s going at the Hudson Homestead, especially in the bedroom.”

  “Fine and dandy, thanks very much.” He directed his attention to Sally’s opponent, Luscious Leeza. How the hell did they get Sally to agree to this match? She was outsized by at least six inches and who knew how many pounds of muscle mass. When Sally had left WHAK she said she’d never fight again.

  “And here’s the delectable, Luscious Leeza. Boy, she looks like she’s grown since the last time we saw her in the ring, wouldn’t you say, Black Jack?”

  “I’d have to agree with you there, Prince.”

  “You would? You’re actually agreeing with me about something?”

  “Don’t push it,” he threatened. One thing he didn’t have patience for tonight was wisecracks from this moron.

  Leeza climbed into the ring and the two women squared off. Prince rambled about Leeza’s stats as former WHAK Women’s Champion and Bubble Gum-Blowing Queen for the state of Kentucky. Jack threw in a word here and there, a grunt when necessary, hardly seeing the drama unfold before him.

  This was a bad idea. He shouldn’t be here so soon after suffering from a broken heart. Hell, everything reminded him of Frankie. Eve
ry time the mat bounced he remembered her falling backwards or stumbling into his chest. When one of the women threw a punch Jack remembered her squeak of horror when she thought she’d really hurt Marco during practice.

  Nothing would ever be the same again. This whole place reeked of Frankie, of the woman he loved so much he had to let her go. He signed on for another two years, but it might as well be a life sentence.

  “Can you believe it?” Prince cried, tugging on Jack’s coat. “How do you explain it, Black Jack? How can you have two wives?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Isn’t that a second Tatianna in the ring? I think one of them should be disqualified, but which one?”

  Jack’s gaze shot to the ring where two women dressed like Tatianna faced off. Leeza had mysteriously left.

  “This is incredible, the most amazing thing that’s ever happened in WHAK, folks. Two Tatiannas! Maybe they’re twins. Are they twins, Jack? Or did you clone them?”

  Jack couldn’t speak. Gripping the table, he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. He could hardly hear himself think over the crowd’s frenzied roars. Billings hadn’t said anything about Frankie being replaced by two Tatiannas unless one of them…

  Was Frankie.

  It only took a few seconds studying the second Tatianna for Jack to know in his heart that the second woman wasn’t an actress or a twin. It was the woman he loved. Francine McGee.

  “What the…?” he muttered. How could this be? Her fiancé would break off their engagement for sure, essentially ruining her chance at the perfect life.

  Before Jack realized he’d even stood, he was over the announcer’s table and climbing the steps to the ring. The crowd went nuts. Out of the corner of his eye he spied security form a thick wall to prevent fans from jumping the guardrails.

  Then they were all gone: the sounds, the sights, everything around him disappeared into a mass of nothingness.

  He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman who stood in the center of the squared circle with a whip in one hand and a leather strap in the other.

  A security guard handed Sally a folding chair, which she set up in the center of the ring. That was a first, actually using a folding chair to sit on rather than whack somebody with.

  Jack climbed through the second and top ropes and eyed the women. Frankie crooked her finger, beckoning him to come closer. Did he dare? How much more could he take?

  He knew if he got anywhere near her he’d pull her into his arms and never let go. His heart skipped at the color of her eyes, iridescent, tinged with the sparkle of desire.

  Please God, don’t let me be wrong about what I see in her eyes.

  Someone grabbed his wrist. He started to pull away but heard Sally’s voice. “You’re gonna have to trust us, Jack. We’ve got it all worked out.”

  He froze, studying Frankie’s eyes. This was part of a new angle?

  He wanted out of the ring more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. Everyone had to read the pain on his face, the heartbreak. Why didn’t she leave him alone to suffer with dignity?

  Sally led Jack to the chair and bound his arms behind his back. He gritted his teeth. He hadn’t thought he could hurt any more, not after letting Frankie go.

  Microphone in hand, Sally pranced to the ropes and addressed the crowd. “This woman claims to be the real Tatianna! But we all know that’s not true, right?”

  The crowd cheered.

  “So, I say…let’s fight for him!” She tossed the mic to the mat and they went at it, Frankie charging Sally with Max’s winning move, the Ground Hog Grunt.

  He couldn’t stand sitting there, being the prize they fought over yet neither of them wanted. That wasn’t completely true. He knew Sally wouldn’t turn down a night of crazed sex if offered.

  But he wouldn’t be offering it to Sally or any other woman. There was only one woman he belonged with, wrapped skin to skin beneath the sheets.

  Suddenly it all became clear. Sure, he could retire and travel, paint, even move to his cabin in the mountains. But what would it all mean without the woman he loved sharing his life?

  Even when his sentence was up with WHAK, he’d start another eternal sentence in hell, without love, without Frankie.

  Glaring straight ahead, he wanted the match to end. His gaze drifted to a group of men in the front row. He recognized one of them, but couldn’t place him. The man stared at Jack with a strange expression on his face. Resignation?

  Jack’s chair bounced as Frankie went down to the mat and Sally applied a sleeper hold. Frankie went limp. Good, she’d be counted out and that would be the end of her career as a wrestling diva. So that’s what this was about? Closure?

  The referee raised her limp arm once, twice, three times and declared Sally the winner. Sally pranced to the corner, straddled the ropes and waved at the crowd. They cheered, until Sally took the mask off.

  The cheers turned to boos and hisses. They knew Sally wasn’t the real Tatianna because they’d seen the clip of Frankie being unmasked.

  Out of the corner of his eye he spied Frankie jump to her feet and charge Sally from behind, sending the fake Tatianna through the ropes. Frankie raised her hands in victory. The crowd cheered, threw peanuts, popcorn and Doodles Candy.

  Then Frankie did something that shocked him: she ripped off her mask and tossed it to the man in the front row.

  Her fiancé, Bradley, aka Nipper. Jack remembered him from the picture she carried in her wallet. But Bradley had forbidden her to step into the ring and told her to cut all ties with her uncle or else. Did that mean the engagement was off?

  She gripped the microphone between her gloved hands. “That Tatianna might have won the match, but I won the man.”

  The crowd let loose an eardrum-shattering cry, which grew into rhythmic chants of “Black Jack Attack.”

  With a coy smile and sparkling eyes, she sauntered across the ring and straddled his lap. “Looks like you’re mine, Black Jack.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve been yours since that first night you knocked me out.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me, didn’t…love me.”

  “I want you to be happy.”

  “Which only happens when I’m with you.”

  She kissed him, casting away all his pain, all his angst. This was where he belonged, connected to this woman. Forever.

  Frankie untied his wrists and he stood, taking her in his arms.

  “Francine, I—”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Prince Priceless called over the public-address system. “I’d like to introduce the owner of Wrestling Heroes and Kings, Joe Sullivan, along with former Women’s Champ, Maxine the Miraculous.”

  “What’s going on?” Jack muttered, holding Frankie close. He wasn’t letting her go this time. Not for anything.

  Sully approached the ring with Max hanging on his arm. The pair climbed through the second and top ropes and waved at the crowd. Sully swiped the microphone and motioned for the crowd to settle down. Jack had never seen the man so calm, so...normal.

  “Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls,” Sully began. “It’s been a wonderful show tonight in Chicago. Let’s hear it for Black Jack Hudson and Tatianna the Tigress!”

  The fans roared.

  Sully shook Jack’s hand and something scratched his palm. He glanced down at his bonus check.

  “What’s this?”

  Sully grinned.

  “Even though I’m sticking around for another two years?” Jack asked.

  With a hysterical giggle, Sully handed the mic to Maxine, pulled the contract out of his suit pocket and ripped it into tiny pieces. “You can hang up your boots, son. Although I wouldn’t mind you doing some guest commentary now and then.”

  “What about the mob?”

  “A misunderstanding. There’s no mob,” Sully said.

  “Wait a second, you’re letting me go?”

  “Wi
th the exception of a few promo appearances now and then.”

  “Uncle Joe,” Frankie said with warning in her voice.

  “It won’t hurt to do a few a year,” Sully argued.

  Jack glanced at Frankie. “You did this, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I asked him for your freedom.”

  Jack didn’t want to be free from Frankie. “Frankie, I—”

  “I love you, Jack.”

  “But your fiancé, your perfect life—you…love me?” His chest tightened.

  “With all my heart.”

  “I’m not a planner. I’m not what you need.”

  “You’re exactly what I need. It’s time to trust my heart. I’ve got some money saved up and with your bonus check we should be fine for a while, I mean, if you still want to travel.”

  “We’ll be more than fine.” He’d received good news a few days ago but had had no one to share it with. “Butch says the fitness centers are finally showing a profit. A healthy profit.”

  She smiled. “You fall right into success, don’t you, Black Jack Hudson?”

  “I’d rather fall into bed with my favorite feline.”

  “Help! He’s lost his mind!” Max screamed, running circles around the ring. Sully chased after her, trying to pinch her behind. The crowd hollered with delight.

  “Fine me a minister!” Sully cried. “Get Harold Gardner! Quick, before she changes her mind.”

  Jack smiled to himself. Life was looking pretty good. He wrapped his arms around Frankie’s waist and pulled her against his chest, right where she belonged. “Ministers. They’re never around when you need them.”

  Her iridescent eyes sparkled. “Can you marry a person twice?”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll marry you as many times as it takes.”

  And he kissed her.

  THE END

  RING AROUND MY HEART

  Excerpt

  “I’m Loverboy Luke, the baddest, sexiest pro wrestler to step into the squared circle. I can set a woman on fire with a touch of my finger.”

  Didn’t she know it. Alexandra had a hard time breathing against the desire building in her chest. She wanted to pull her hand away, but couldn’t move.

  I'm Loverboy Luke, the baddest, sexiest pro-wrestler to step into the squared circle.