Going The Distance (Ringside #2)
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Copyright © 2016 Jennifer Fusco
Excerpt from The Hardest Hit copyright © 2016 Jennifer Fusco
Author photograph © 2013 Mark Borderud
Cover photo © Bojana Ristic/Shutterstock
The right of Jennifer Fusco to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Published by arrangement with InterMix,
A member of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,
A Penguin Random House Company.
First published in this Ebook edition in 2016
by HEADLINE ETERNAL
An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN 978 1 4722 3606 7
HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
An Hachette UK Company
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Praise for Jennifer Fusco
By Jennifer Fusco
About the Book
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Exclusive preview from The Hardest Hit
Find out more about Headline Eternal
About the Author
Jennifer Fusco is the author of the Ringside series, where the hard-hitters of Las Vegas’s Stamina boxing gym are K.O.-ed by the women they never saw coming...
Jennifer loves writing hot alpha males, and strong female characters who are sexy, sassy, and careful with their hearts. She lives in Southwest Florida and spends what little free time she has going to the beach, walking her dog, Grissom, and watching her son’s soccer games.
Chat with Jennifer at www.facebook.com/authorjenniferfusco, connect with her on Twitter @JenniferAFusco, and visit her website at www.jennifer-fusco.com.
Praise for Jennifer Fusco’s knockout romances:
‘Jack and Daniella have great chemistry and smokin’ sexual tension. I read this in one night. Fusco’s voice pulls you into the sexy, sweaty world of boxing. A must-read!’ Jamie K. Schmidt, USA Today bestselling author
‘Fusco’s debut is a knockout. Emotionally intense, it takes the reader for ten rounds of edgy heat and a journey of redemption while they root for Jack and Daniella to win’ Tawny Weber, New York Times bestselling author
‘Jennifer Fusco writes exciting, sexy romance that keeps you up way past your bedtime. You’ve been warned!’ Robin Covington, bestselling author
‘A heartwarming hero and a strong glimpse into the gritty world of professional boxing’ Cecy Robson, bestselling author
‘A sizzling-hot must-read for fans of the sport! Fusco packs a sexy punch’ Jennifer Snow, author of Breaking Her Rules
By Jennifer Fusco
Ringside Series
Fighting For It
Going The Distance
The Hardest Hit
About the Book
A dedicated fighter, Middleweight Michael Perez is willing to do whatever it takes to reach the top, and with his next fight scheduled at Madison Square Garden he’s almost there. A self-proclaimed control freak, he plans to drive himself cross-country to the fight. But when his manager insists a sports reporter tag along, thinking it will be good for public relations, Michael finds himself under the watchful eye of Ava Phillips.
Ava Phillips has made a career out of exposing the underbelly of professional sports. Her instincts tell her that sexy, moody Michael Perez’s squeaky clean image is a cover for something more intriguing. Sharing the drive from Nevada to New York, Ava’s interest turns physical. But as their relationship heats up and Ava unearths his past, will she expose Michael’s darkness or succumb to the passions of a relationship she’s only ever read about?
Ready for round three? Don’t miss the third thrilling Ringside book, The Hardest Hit.
And return to the world of Stamina in Book One, Fighting For It.
For my husband, Joe, our Pathfinder, and one-hundred forty-eight thousand miles.
Acknowledgments
Before writing this book, I received a call from my agent that no writer wants to get. My editor was leaving. This kind of news devastates writers because your editor is your advocate, the one who champions you and your work. Hearing this I felt abandoned and alone. Yet, at the same time, I was told that I was receiving a new editor, Isabel Farhi, and she was happy to have me as part of her list. Sports romance intrigued her, and she was interested in Mike’s story.
Yeah right, I told myself. I knew she probably didn’t have time for me, since she didn’t acquire me, and being “assigned” to someone is as unpleasant as it sounds. To me, this was a little like being on an episode of Married at First Sight minus the cameras. However, I’m happy to tell you that having Isabel as my editor on this book was a wonderful experience. All displaced authors should be so lucky. So, a big chunk of heartfelt gratitude goes to Izzy on this project. Thank you. You’re the best! Thank you for helping me tell Mike and Ava’s story to its fullest.
Another huge atta-girl goes to my patient agent, Nicole Resciniti. Thanks for staying in my corner. Big hugs.
A book couldn’t be what it is without some faithful beta readers. So, Jessica Robinson, Danielle Bailey, Kathy Amadio, and Jenny Johnston Steward, muchas gracias for your mad book reading skills.
Lastly, to my three guys at home, Joe, Jacob and Grissom, the wildest Portuguese Water Dog in the world. I love you with all my heart.
Chapter One
Four thirty in the morning came early. Damn early. Michael Perez didn’t mind. His routine, his life, started in the wee hours with moonlight falling across his feet. Today, like every day, he ran the ten and a half mile
s from his home to Stamina Gym.
Arriving early meant getting a head start on his training before his seven-thirty boxing class began. He didn’t readily sign on to teach a bunch of adults how to hit a heavy bag, something he’d learned at the age of four. But, over the years, he’d also learned you had to do what you had to do. Helping to pull Stamina out of its financial funk meant he had to do his part. And if teaching boxing to weekend warriors meant Stamina kept its lights on . . .
So be it.
He exhaled and swung his arms as he rounded the street corner toward his gym. The rhythmic sound of the soles of his shoes hitting gravel filled his ears. He loved this time of day. The darkness, the silence, followed by the creak of the gym’s door after he unlocked it and pushed his way into the vacant space.
He’d always sworn that one day he’d change up his morning workout. Maybe he’d hit the speed bag or jump rope before lying down at the bench press to work on his biceps. But it never happened. He took comfort in knowing what came next. Run. Cool down. Bench press. Leg press. Rest. Speed bag. Heavy bag. Hit the locker room. Shower. Shave.
He’d conditioned his mind and his body to work in that order. All routine. No surprises.
Until today, apparently.
Outside Stamina he found the lights already on. He wasn’t alone and he didn’t like it. His brow furrowed and tension settled in his jaw. No fucking way was he working out with someone else. In the morning, quiet time was essential. It set the pace for his entire day. He entered through the doors of Stamina. Standing there, scowling at him, was Daniella, his beloved trainer. She propped a hand on her hip and wore a tight scowl. “My office.” Her words landed hard in his ear. “Now.”
He followed his manager and trainer into her office. Usually he could count on Daniella Chambers to be the voice of reason, the calm and collected professional. However, this morning he detected a hint of worry in her otherwise business-as-usual tone. His manager hadn’t appeared this worried since she’d found her now-husband and heavyweight world champion, Jack Brady, blowing off his career for women and booze, and threatening to send Stamina, which was her father’s legacy, down the tubes.
It didn’t take her long to right the situation with Jack. So whatever seemed to be the problem, Mike knew the issue wouldn’t last long.
“Morning, bro.” Jack cut his blue eyes in Mike’s direction and lifted his chin in acknowledgement as Mike pushed his way through the office door. He was sitting in one of the two chairs in front of Daniella’s desk.
“Sup?” Mike countered, and dropped into the chair beside Jack.
Daniella rounded the desk and took her chair facing them. “I tried to call you, but you’d already left. We decided to meet you here.”
Mike switched his glance between Daniella and Jack. “Something wrong?” Clearly something was. He’d spent the last few months training for his upcoming bout with Marlon Littleton, a contender with enough media buzz to make Michael Perez a familiar name on ESPN. He hoped whatever she had to say didn’t have anything to do with canceling the Littleton fight. He needed this match, especially since he didn’t get to finish his last. He won by TKO, technical knockout. Opening a cut on his opponent’s eye had stopped the fight, and Mike had enough points on the card to be declared the winner by the judge’s decision. The guy he cut was rumored to be the toughest guy in the middleweight class. Since then, good matchups had been hard for Daniella to find. Either no one was tough enough to stand up to Mike or every promoter wanted the big guys. While Mike had fought light heavyweight and sparred with Jack routinely, he didn’t have the bulk or the reach to jump an entire weight class, which left him at a loss.
“What’s the problem?” Mike asked, breaking the awkward silence.
“Not so much a problem as an opportunity I don’t want you to miss.” Daniella rested her elbow on her desk. “The Las Vegas Times is sending a sports reporter over this morning to do a story on Stamina. With Jack’s title win and your bout scheduled against Littleton, it’s not a surprise the community is gaining interest in us. I want you and Jack to spar for her and the cameras.”
He felt his bottom lip protrude as he nodded. Seemed like a logical step. The boys of Stamina kicked ass and took names. Of course the media demanded coverage. Still, a gnawing feeling chewed at his gut. He didn’t like the idea of some nosy reporter getting too close. What would happen if things turned up that he didn’t want anyone to know? While everyone had a skeleton or two in their closet, his past looked more like The Walking Dead.
If the situation was that simple, why did Daniella look so worried?
Mike raised a brow. “So, I need to get dressed to spar? No problem.” He didn’t want to appear disrespectful, but someone needed to let him in on what was behind Daniella’s and Jack’s nervous glances. “Anything else?”
In the second they didn’t speak, Mike connected the mental dots. They were referring to a female sports reporter for the Las Vegas Times. His stomach rolled in response. “Are you talking about Ava Phillips?”
Daniella nodded.
Jack leaned forward in his seat. “I don’t see what the big deal is, but you probably know more about her than I do. You read her column, right?”
Ava Phillips. Ava freaking Phillips. Coming here. To his gym. He gave a slight shake of his head. “That woman is a piece of work. She likes to dig up dirt.” Daniella’s brows knitted together as he continued. “Don’t you remember what she did to Chad Murphy? Granted, he was no angel, but she vilified the guy. She interviewed his ex-wife, and judging by that article she’s not pro-athlete—more pro-dirt.” He turned to Jack. His brows scrunched together. The look on his face told Mike that Jack needed more of an explanation. “Ava Phillips reports scandals and drama among the sports world—sex, money, who fucked over who, things like that. Best we can do is answer her questions and hope she goes the hell away.”
And that explained the exchange of worried expressions and apprehension Mike felt. Ava Phillips, the pit viper of sports reporting, was on her way to Stamina. The gym suffered over the last nine months. Since the sudden death of Daniella’s father and gym founder, R. L., money troubles still plagued his manager. The last thing Stamina needed was some bottom-feeder reporter digging up dirt on the gym and smearing the reputation they’d worked so hard to restore.
“I’ve got a fight to train for.” Mike stood, and with a nod to Daniella, he left her and Jack sitting in their seats. He didn’t have a flair for drama. He didn’t storm out like some diva. What he did have was focus, and having to think about Ava Phillips, even for a second, might cause him to lose that focus. It wasn’t worth it.
He walked to the locker room to grab his gloves. Tension built in his biceps. He hoped Jack was ready for one hell of a workout. He needed to hit something, hard, and with such ferocity only a world champion could absorb the punch.
He took out his fourteen-ounce gloves and met Jack waiting by the ring. He approached the wooden structure, taking care to notice the blue-colored canvas and the thickness of the pad. Mike imagined the incredible sound of Jack’s muscular frame landing on the mat. In his mind, there was no better sound than that—the clean smack of a job well done. Daniella taped Jack’s hands. In Mike’s usual corner, the assistant trainer and Stamina’s cut man, Abraham Shakes, stood waiting for him. The moment he met Shakes’s eye, the old man said, “Let’s go, boy. We don’t have all morning.”
And they didn’t.
A woman entered the gym and sauntered over to the ring. It was hard to ignore her long, red hair that fell in waves over her shoulders and the deep crimson lipstick she’d plastered on her face. No matter how hard she tried to get attention, Mike wasn’t falling for it.
Meeting them at the edge of the ring, she flipped her hair and flashed him a wide, toothy smile. Her gaze locked on him as if she were trying to throw his thoughts off-balance. Ava was wearing a canary yellow dress. The curve of her hip nearly stopped his heart. Her body matched her reputation. Seriously hot. And
he guessed it was probably how she went through life, attacking everything, even the least bit of cellulite, with gusto. Ava outstretched her hand and greeted Daniella. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”
They shook hands and his trainer returned her professional smile. “We appreciate the coverage. It’ll be great to show what we’ve got here, and how it impacts the locals.”
“We feel the same way at the Times,” Ava said. “When people think of Vegas they only think of the Strip. There’s more to the community than the casinos. I’m happy to be able to share that with our readers.”
Mike’s insides stirred. In a way, Daniella was right. Media coverage meant spreading the word about how well Stamina had done. The boxing classes, the youth organizations, and the fitness clubs were all designed to help the people of Las Vegas. Their city offered too much temptation, too many vices, and was solely focused on the mighty dollar. From gambling to drinking to all-night parties, Sin City was all take and no give. Ava Phillips had the power to shine a light on the positivity Stamina offered. Maybe her inner serpent had a change of heart? He doubted it, but he supposed anything was possible.
“I thought we’d start with a few shots of your guys sparring. Maybe have Jack and Mike trade a couple of punches. Action shots grab the most attention above the fold.”
Of course she was worried most about how her article would look on the page.
Shakes taped up Mike’s hands and pushed his gloves on. Jack danced in the ring, already warming up. Once Mike had gotten into the ring and warmed up as well, both men walked to the center of the canvas and, on Daniella’s cue, touched gloves and started to spar.
Mike hit Jack by opening with a clean left hook, then stepped back to set up the jab. Jack countered with his signature right hand, a move so clean and polished the punch deserved a spot on the front page. With each hit, he noticed Ava pointed her camera at him, and not on the reigning world champion.
Light flashed from the camera with each shot, but Mike pushed it out of his mind, focusing on sparring. Within a few minutes, though, Daniella called for time and both men dropped their hands.