Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2)

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Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) Page 15

by Sidney Halston


  —

  Jeffrey led her to their table, but her eyes drifted to Slade, who was sitting across from a beautiful blonde. At first she had felt somewhat guilty about being there to meet Jeffrey, but now, seeing him on a date, she felt the guilt slide right off. What did she have to feel guilty about? The man was on a date with his usual type: blond, busty, and probably dumb.

  She turned her attention to Jeffrey, who had on black slacks and a white button-down shirt and looked very handsome. He took the liberty of ordering her a drink: a Cosmopolitan. She hated Cosmos, but she said nothing and politely accepted the drink. He ordered himself a pasta dish, which she found odd since they were at a steakhouse, but feeling unsure of herself, she ordered the same thing. She didn’t want to look like some sort of uncouth carnivorous woman ordering a steak, medium rare, with extra fries, which was what she really wanted. Jeffrey, who she quickly found out preferred to be called Jeff, talked about his job, and asked her questions about her life. Jessica was surprised that he didn’t know she had dated Slade. It was a small town and everyone knew one another’s business. Just went to show how oblivious men could be.

  Every few minutes Jessica would discreetly glance over at Slade’s table, and more than once she could have sworn that she caught Slade looking over at her. She also noticed that his chair was a little closer to the blond tart’s. So Jessica leaned a little closer when she spoke to Jeff, laughed a little louder, and flirted a little more obviously. By the time dessert arrived, Slade’s face was nestled against the tart’s ear and she was giggling up a storm, while Jessica’s fists closed tightly under the table by her lap. She wanted to throw her shoe or a roll or maybe even a fork at the man sitting two tables away. And if she was lucky enough, she could hit the tart too. Collateral damage—she could live with that.

  That was it, she decided—she wasn’t going to look over again.

  But just as she thought it, Jeffrey spoke up. “I think your friend’s leaving.”

  As Jessica turned to watch Slade leave, Jeffrey went on, “I’ve heard he’s quite the ladies’ man. A different woman every day. How some women like all the brutish fighting is beyond me. I bet you’d agree that what he does for a living is barbaric.”

  Jessica nodded in feigned agreement, trying not to stare as Slade’s arm went around the woman and he nodded to Jessica. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw him smirk.

  Yes, the fucker most definitely smirked.

  Ugh!

  —

  As soon as they were out of the restaurant, Slade released Tara and reached into his pocket for his keys. He didn’t want to touch Tara. He didn’t even want to see her right now. Just by showing up, Jessica had ruined his night, his perfectly simple night. Now all he saw when he looked at Tara was mediocre legs, too-big tits, a yellow dress that reminded him of Big Bird, and disheveled hair. Without much conversation, she jumped on his bike and after he was on too, they took off.

  Once they arrived at her house, she invited him in. He was sure that sex was on the table if he wanted it. His eyes trailed down her legs and then back up to her blond hair. He took a step forward, leaned in, and gave her a kiss…on the cheek.

  “Sorry, doll. Have an early morning. Call you tomorrow.”

  “Wait. What? You’re leaving?”

  “Yeah. Gotta go.”

  “Slade…?” Her whining voice made him cringe.

  “Call you tomorrow,” he hollered over his shoulder. She slammed the door.

  Standing by his bike, Slade ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Why did Jessica Cross have to be so fucking hot?

  —

  “Except for when you almost ate it, it was a great first date, wasn’t it?” Jeff asked as he leaned down toward her opened car door. Why did the man keep talking about her klutziness? Didn’t he understand it was embarrassing?

  “Yes. Great,” she said, nodding, while putting on her seat belt.

  “Can I call you tomorrow?” he asked, his hand gripping the top of the door.

  She really wanted to say no, but she wasn’t sure if it was because they hadn’t hit it off or because she had seen Slade. On a date. With a beautiful woman. So without much thought she gave him a polite smile and said, “Sure.”

  Jeff smiled triumphantly before closing her door and wishing her goodnight.

  As soon as he’d walked away, she let out a deep sigh before gently banging her head against the steering wheel. Why did Slade Martin have to be so fucking hot?

  Chapter 10

  It was three days later, and it was Jessica’s first day off in a long time. She’d spent the last four hours sorting through her stuff, throwing away anything that wasn’t a necessity and putting the rest into piles to pack up later, and she was emotionally drained at the thought of leaving both the town she’d grown to love and the man who’d come to mean so much to her.

  She decided she needed to get out of the house and breathe in some fresh air, so she headed into town. Maybe some window-shopping would lift her spirits a little.

  She parked in town and walked around for about an hour. Somehow, she ended up at WtF Academy. Looking through the glass door and seeing Chrissy in her cutoff jean shorts and one of Slade’s ratty old T-shirts standing on a stepladder painting made Jessica’s heart constrict. She’d never had anything like the unconditional love that the two siblings shared. It was as if the years of estrangement between the two meant nothing now. Chrissy would obviously do anything for her brother, and vice versa.

  Like a voyeur, Jessica stared through the door. Jack, who could set any woman’s heart ablaze, was standing next to Chrissy. She’d never seen two people more in love. Jack lifted Chrissy off the ladder and kissed her silly, paintbrush still in her hand. When he let her go, Chrissy pointed to something as she spoke, and Jack took the paintbrush, reached up, and finished the job Chrissy had been working on.

  Going anywhere near WtF had probably not been such a good idea, she knew. Dennis had made it very clear that if he caught her with Slade, there’d be hell to pay. But she had broken it off with him and she intended to keep it that way. The problem was, she missed him so much she just couldn’t stay away. She hadn’t intended to go to WtF, but her feet had just begun to move, and they had led her to the gym. Damn feet!

  Jessica reached for the handle of the front door and walked in. From outside she hadn’t realized the music inside was blaring.

  “Hi, guys!” she yelled, but neither Chrissy nor Jack turned. “Helllloooo!” she yelled again. Obviously they hadn’t heard her.

  She walked over to the radio and pulled the plug. Both of them abruptly turned to face her. “Hi, guys,” she said again.

  “Oh, sorry, Jess. Didn’t hear you come in,” Chrissy said.

  “I know.” Jessica chuckled. “So you guys are painting, I see.”

  “Yeah. Slade had to do something with Tony, so I came to finish painting.”

  “That’s really sweet of you, Chrissy. You’re a great sister.”

  “What are you up to?” Chrissy asked Jessica.

  “Oh, nothing. I was in the neighborhood, so I came by to say hello and see if Slade needed any help.”

  “I’m sure he’d love any help you can give him.” Jack winked at her.

  “Babe!” Chrissy rolled her eyes. “Sorry about that, Jess. He’s a guy.”

  Jessica laughed. “It’s fine. Don’t worry ’bout it. I assure you, Slade and I are just friends.”

  “Well, if you say so,” Chrissy said. “Hey,” she added, skipping over to Jessica, “if you’re not doing anything, I’m going to see a few office spaces later for my new practice. Jack has a shift today and can’t join me. Wanna come along? I’ll make you dinner as a thank-you.”

  “You don’t have to make dinner. I’d love to come.”

  “Yay!” Chrissy cheered.

  —

  “That first place gave me the creeps,” Jessica was saying a few hours later as she gulped down a drink.

  “Yeah, and the
smell? What the hell was with the smell?” Chrissy laughed. “Thanks for tagging along. I know it was boring, but if I’d gone alone, I’d have been so anxious to get the whole thing over with that I probably would have signed a five-year lease for the smelly, creepy place.”

  “No problem, and no, you wouldn’t have, the stink would’ve melted the lease papers.” They both laughed. “You didn’t have to buy me a drink, you know. It was fun, and I’d have gone anyway.”

  “We needed a girls’ night. JL will be off soon, and I already told her to come join us when she’s done,” Chrissy said. “Plus, I needed to get you tipsy so that you could spill the beans about whatever the hell is going on with you and my brother. One moment you’re on, the next you’re off.”

  “I don’t even know.” Jessica dramatically dropped her head to the table for a moment before lifting it up again. “I wonder how he’s doing. Really doing, like in his heart, ya know? He never seems worked up about anything. Nonchalant—that’s the word that I’d use to describe him.”

  “He’s a guy—who the hell knows what’s going on inside? And anyway, that’s just the way Slade is. Relaxed, mouth of a sailor, says what’s on his mind without much thought, but at the same time happy-go-lucky,” Chrissy said.

  “In a badass, cage-fighting, ass-kicking sort of way,” Jessica added.

  Chrissy giggled. “Yeah, in a badass, cage-fighting, ass-kicking sort of way.” She took another sip of beer. “But don’t get him mad. Oh, no. I’ve seen that only a handful of times in my life. When he gets mad, he gets mad. M-a-d mad! It’s actually scary.”

  “I can’t see it.” Jessica shook her head. “Nope. I mean, I’ve seen him mad, but it wasn’t scary mad. It was jerk mad—nothing terrifying. And I’ve seen him fight, but even then he doesn’t seem angry. He seems…indifferent, almost. But he’s good. God, he’s good. Sexy as—”

  “No. No. No.” Chrissy covered her ears. “La la la la. I don’t want to hear anything remotely sex-related about my brother.”

  Jessica laughed so hard, her drink went down her windpipe and she choked. Suddenly strong hands reached under her armpits, lifted her from her seat in the booth, and slapped her on the back.

  “Omigod! Slade, stop it! I’m a doctor, you idiot. That’s not doing anything other than hurting her,” Chrissy shrieked.

  Jessica coughed a few times and tried to worm her way out of the strong grip. When she was finally able to speak she said, “Ow! Damn it, Slade. That hurt.”

  “You were choking. I was helping.”

  “I wasn’t choking choking. It went down the wrong pipe. I would’ve been okay. Now I have a huge pain in my back from where you smacked me.”

  “Sorry, Jess. Was just trying to help.” He shrugged.

  “Um…well, thanks, I guess.” She sat back down. “What are you even doing here?”

  “I was grabbing a beer with some buddies”—he pointed to a group of men at the opposite side of the bar—“and saw you choking. But seeing as you’re fine now, guess I’ll just leave you two.” He bent down, gave Chrissy a kiss on the cheek and then another one to Jessica, also on the cheek, and walked away.

  Chrissy began to giggle. “What the hell was that? One minute you were laughing, the next you’re choking sort-of, and the next you’re hauled out of the booth by my brother, and being slapped repeatedly on the back.”

  Jessica tried to hold back the laughter but it just came out, and both of them laughed until it hurt.

  Shortly afterward, Jamie Lynn joined them, and they ordered another round of drinks. Pretty soon they were drunk, as in forget-about-driving-home-since-at-the-moment-they-couldn’t-even-walk-to-their-cars hammered.

  “You know what your brother is?” Jessica’s words were barely coherent. “He’s a…a…he’s a…Chihuahua.”

  Chrissy was in the middle of a gulp of beer when Jessica said “Chihuahua,” and it caused her to spit it out in laughter.

  “Yep. A Chihuahua. Your brother’s a Chihuahua. One minute he’s cute. Sweet. You want to pet him and love him and you can see yourself having babies with him—”

  “You want to have babies with a Chihuahua?” Jamie Lynn interrupted.

  Chrissy stuck out her tongue. “Eww, that’s gross, Jess. With a Chihuahua?”

  “Keep up, guys. Your brother, Slade. One minute he’s sweet and you just want to carry him and pet him and take him home with you. And then the next minute—bam! The dog bites you in the ass.”

  “My brother bit you in the ass?”

  “No, Chrissy! We’re talking about Chihuahuas. It doesn’t hurt ’cause they have those itty-bitty little teeth. Well, it hurts, but not like if, let’s say, a pit bull bites you. It stings. Those suckers are sharp. It hurts, physically, and here.” She drunkenly tried to place her hand on her heart, but instead placed it on the other side.

  Chrissy leaned over the table, grabbed Jessica’s wrist, and moved it to the left side of her chest. “I think you mean here, honey. Unless the Chihuahua or Slade, or whoever you’re talking about, hurt your shoulder or your right boob.”

  “Nope. I meant heart. Heart. Left side. Got it,” Jessica slurred. “So I was saying…what was I saying?”

  Jamie Lynn signaled to the waitress, a new girl in her late twenties named Penny who Jett and Patsy had recently hired, for another round.

  “Um…that you want to get a dog, I think,” Jamie Lynn replied.

  “Oh, yeah. But my landlord doesn’t allow pets.”

  “I have a dog. A Chihuahua actually!” Chrissy squealed. “His name is Drogo and he loves me. Never bit me, but he bites. Oh!” Chrissy squealed again. “Drogo hates Slade. Omigod, he hates Slade so much. Slade’s not too fond of him either.”

  “Chrissy, we’ve all met Drogo,” Jessica reminded her with a laugh.

  “Oh, yeah. Well, he hates Slade,” Chrissy repeated.

  “Yeah. That dog hates Slade! Ironic. Oh! And what’s up with Francesca?” Jessica grimaced when she said the name. “Such a bitch. She doesn’t even sweat. I swear, she doesn’t have sweat glands. Is that how they make ’em in Italy these days?”

  “Brazil,” Chrissy corrected.

  “You’re going to Brazil? With Jack? Aww, that’s nice. I hear the beaches are beautiful,” Jessica said.

  Jamie Lynn bellowed out a huge laugh. “I think what Chrissy meant to say was that Francesca is from Brazil, not Italy.”

  “Yep. That’s what I mean. But I do want to go to Brazil.” Chrissy giggled.

  “Fuck Brazil. I hate Brazil!” Jessica said vehemently.

  “She’s not that bad, Jess. I met her. She’s actually kinda sweet,” Chrissy said.

  “Traitor!” Jessica gasped.

  As they were giggling, a small strawberry blonde walked in. When she saw the group of women, she squealed, “Jamie Lynn!”

  “Violet!” Jamie Lynn cried as she stumbled out of the booth and ran toward the blonde. “What’re you doin’ here?” she slurred. “You weren’t supposed to be here till next week.”

  “Came in early. I’ve been trying to call you.”

  Jamie Lynn pointed to her cell phone. “Bad battery—won’t hold a charge.” She pulled Violet into the booth. “Chrissy Martin, Jessica Cross, this is Violet Channing, my best friend from Amarillo, Texas. She’s thinking of moving to town.”

  “Welcome. Want a drink?” Jessica asked.

  “Hell, yeah!” Violet exclaimed. Then she caught side of something on the other side of the bar. “Omigod! Who’s that?” she asked.

  All the women turned their heads.

  “That’s Slade Martin,” Jamie Lynn told her, “Chrissy’s brother and Jessica’s unrequited love interest and therefore very out of the question. And you remember my twin brother, Travis. And that other guy next to him, he’s one of the trainers of WtF—”

  “What the fuck?” Violet asked.

  “Huh? What the fuck what?” Jamie Lynn asked.

  “You said WtF, and WtF stands for—”

  “Oh!” C
hrissy giggled. “No, silly. The gym is called Worth the Fight, or WtF. Get it? Short version is, when the old man who used to own it named it a hundred and one thousand years ago, acronyms weren’t invented yet.” Chrissy giggled some more, then gulped down some more of her drink.

  “Yeah, exactly,” Jamie Lynn continued. “So as I was saying, Worth the Fight Academy, or WtF, is co-owned by Slade. And that’s one of his trainers, Cain Sorensen. Oh, and that redhead who just walked over to them, that’s Jessica’s BFF and the other co-owner of WtF, Francesca Silva.”

  “Stop right there,” Violet said with a strange look on her face. “I don’t care about the rest. Did you say that’s Cain Sorensen?”

  Jamie Lynn nodded.

  “Why is Brazil here?” Jessica interrupted. “Ugh! And look, why does she have to be all over Slade?”

  “Honey, she’s not all over Slade,” Jamie Lynn said.

  “Bullshit, her hand is on his arm. See?” Jessica pointed at the men and was so loud they all turned to look at her.

  “Shit!” Jessica slurred, sliding down in her seat. “I think they heard me.”

  “I think everyone in the entire town heard you. And by the way, she was kinda touching all the guys. I think it’s harmless—it’s just the way she is. Probably a Brazilian thing.”

  Jessica groaned. She didn’t like “just the way she is.” Francesca was trying to poach her man, she just knew it. Women had these instincts about other women.

  “I can’t believe he’s here, of all places,” Violet said.

  “Who?” Chrissy asked.

  “Cain,” Violet responded.

  “You know him?” Jamie Lynn asked.

  “Of course. Remember him? He started at…oh, wait. You had already moved to Tarpon Springs.”

  “Cain is from Amarillo?”

  “Yep.” Violet looked down at her drink, her mood entirely changed.

  “I don’t know if I’ve heard Cain say an entire sentence. He’s not a talker,” Jamie Lynn said.

  “Like…at all,” Chrissy added.

  “With a body like that, who cares?” Jessica put in.

  And all four women sighed again before Jessica yelled, “Another round!”

 

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