Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance)

by Pat White

“There could be worse things.”

  “Like?”

  “Like jumping from a catwalk?”

  She swung and he stepped out of the way, enjoying the sight of her tumbling past him in a puff of black and gold feathers. He had to give her credit. She recovered well. Only five minutes ago she was shivering like a victim of frostbite. He couldn’t help but comfort her, and not because he thought she’d vibrate right out of his arms. No, there was something delicate about this one. Something that made him want to hold her, protect her.

  He rubbed his cheek. Yeah, and who was going to protect him?

  “Dearly beloved,” the minister began.

  Jack wrapped his arms around her from behind. She went completely still and he wondered what was going on in that mind of hers. He prepared himself for a kick to the shin from deadly four-inch spikes.

  “This man and this…” the minister eyed Tiger Lady. “Woman.” She plucked a feather from the corner of her mouth. Boy, when Max beefed up the costume she’d added a lot to cover up the woman’s finer points.

  “…in holy matrimony…”

  “It’s all pretend,” he whispered in her ear.

  It was for the most part, the drama, the hype. Everything but the physical punishment he sustained match after match, and the burning in his gut every time Sully snapped the cage door shut.

  Would Jack ever be free to start a normal life away from the madness? He’d give anything to be anonymous and walk into a grocery store without people staring at him. Impossible thanks to his size, the result of rigorous workouts necessary to maintain his body.

  “…to love and honor the rest of your lives…” the minister continued.

  Jack needed his freedom to travel, work on the cabin, and maybe even help Butch with the youth fitness centers. Jack was proud that his money was going to something good, helping kids who were at that vulnerable age. He didn’t care that he might never see a penny from the business. Some things meant more than the all-mighty dollar.

  Like living a normal life. That’s all Jack wanted. It didn’t seem like a lot to ask. He’d been a devoted WHAK employee for nearly twenty years. But it was never enough, with Dad, with WHAK. Was Jack destined to live by another man’s script for the rest of his life?

  Tiger Lady wobbled and he steadied her against his chest. She was to blame for his self-analysis. She read the pain in his eyes on the catwalk and called him out. He couldn’t believe he was that transparent, a definite disadvantage if he planned to outwit Sully and jump ship ASAP.

  “…if anyone knows of any reason why this man and this woman should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace…”

  The crowd hushed.

  “Now that you mention it…” Tiger Lady started.

  Jack grabbed her by the shoulders, turned her around and kissed her before she could finish her protest. It wouldn’t look good to his fans to have his wife-to-be object to marrying their hero.

  “Excuse me,” the minister said.

  Jack broke the kiss and blinked twice to get his bearings. The adrenaline from the jump must not have worn off.

  “You don’t kiss the bride yet,” the minister scolded.

  “Right. Sorry.” He couldn’t tear his gaze from her clear blue eyes and ruby red lips. Not real. None of this was real. He tamped down the burning in his gut, the burn of regret? Of having done this once before only to find out it wasn’t real either?

  “The ring?” The minister poked Jack in the arm.

  “Huh? Yeah, we’re in the ring. What?”

  “For her finger,” the minister said.

  “I’ve got it,” Prince Priceless said into a microphone as he climbed through the ropes. “Although it will probably turn her finger green!”

  The crowd booed and hissed the Prince on cue.

  “I can’t help it if Black Jack is a cheap, no good, dimwitted idiot.”

  Jack snatched the minister’s microphone. “Hand over the ring, Priceless.”

  “Come and get it.”

  “My pleasure.” He handed the minister the mic and took a step toward his adversary. Was this in the script? Jack had no idea.

  “Wait,” Tatianna said, gripping Jack’s arm. “Let me handle this.”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Trust me.”

  He stepped aside. He must be crazy.

  Tiger Lady sauntered across the ring to the Prince.

  “What’s this? Change your mind about marrying Black Jack?” Prince flirted. “Hey, kitty cat, I’m all yours.”

  Jack clenched his fists by his sides. Not real. None of this was real.

  Wrapping her arms around Prince’s neck, she gave the arrogant moron a squeeze. His eyelashes fluttered as he glanced up at the heavens.

  Jack was going to be sick. Was this her way of getting back at Jack for tricking her into jumping from the catwalk?

  “See, Black Jack, I not only beat you in the ring, but I beat you in love. Come on, kitty. Let’s go back to my place,” Prince cooed.

  She shot Prince a charming smile, stepped away from him and stuck out her hand.

  “What? You want this?” Prince pinched the ring between his forefinger and thumb. “Okay, but don’t get any ideas. I’m not the marrying type, not until I get to know you better.” He raised his eyebrows twice and dropped the gold band in her hand.

  “Shall we?” Prince scanned the crowd wearing that smug look on his face. Tiger Lady smiled up at him.

  Damn, she was going to humiliate Jack in front of fifteen thousand fans. On the other hand, this could be his ticket out. If she paired up with Prince Priceless that left Jack out in the cold.

  “Once again, the best man wins,” Prince taunted Jack and extended his hand to escort Tiger Lady out of the ring. “I’m so glad you all got to see that I’m the better man. I’m the true hero.”

  With a lunge and a cry, Tiger Lady attacked Prince, nipping at his hand. He shrieked and the audience shrieked back. She nailed his foot with her spiked heel, and he cried out like a gutted animal.

  “She’s crazy! Get her away from me.” He fumbled for the ropes with Tiger Lady in hot pursuit. She lunged. He screamed and tumbled out of the ring.

  Jack burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself.

  “You can have her,” Prince cried from the bordering blue mat. He hopped on one foot and clutched his injured hand against his stomach. “You deserve each other!”

  The fans roared as Prince limped up the ramp and out of sight, obviously in search of first aid. Tiger Lady sauntered to Jack, tripping on the high heels only once.

  “Nice,” Jack said.

  “Who needs to throw a punch when you’ve got these?” She stuck out her heel and grinned, a twinkle in her eye.

  “Yeah, but I don’t look so good in gold.”

  “You’d probably fall over in them anyway. It takes a certain talent to keep your balance.” She shifted to the other foot and lost her balance.

  He steadied her with a hand on her elbow. “A talent you’ve obviously mastered.”

  “I’ve mastered the stabbing part,” she warned.

  “Excuse me,” the minister said. “But I have a marriage to finish.”

  “Right, sorry,” Jack said.

  “The ring?” the minister said.

  Tiger Lady handed it to the minister.

  “Not me, him.”

  She dropped the ring in Jack’s palm, not making eye contact.

  “Put it on,” the ministered ordered.

  Jack eased it over her gloved finger. “I don’t suppose you want to take these off?”

  “No, thanks.”

  He adjusted the ring to the second knuckle. “That’s as far as it goes.”

  “Good enough.” The minister cleared his throat. “I now pronounce you…” The crowd hushed. “Cowboy and Tiger Wife. You may kiss your cat.” He snapped the Bible shut.

  Jack glanced at Tatianna who fiddled with the gold band on her finger. He cradled her chin between his thumb
and forefinger and guided her eyes to meet his. The minister shoved the microphone between them. Jack snatched it from him and the fans roared, thinking they were going to hear personal, intimate words spoken between Black Jack Hudson and his new bride.

  Jack tossed the microphone to the corner of the ring and looked into Tatianna’s eyes.

  “May I? Kiss you?”

  She nodded. At least he thought she nodded. If not, he’d know real quick when she drilled him with those spikes of hers.

  Leaning forward he brushed his lips against her mouth and closed his eyes, savoring the minty taste of this strange woman. He didn’t mind kissing her, not really. She felt warm and soft in his arms. When she leaned into him, a slight moan purring against his lips, he wished the thousands of fans away, wished for a real moment alone with the woman he held in his arms.

  An unusual woman he’d never met until two nights ago, a player hired to entertain the audience the same way he did day after day, three hundred shows a year.

  He gripped her shoulders, broke the kiss and held her a safe distance away, if there was such a thing. Her fingers still clung to his hair and her eyes glazed over with desire. She might not be a professional actress, but she was damned good at making the passion part of this script look real.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Black Jack Hudson,” the referee announced. The crowd went wild, showering the ring with popcorn, beer, and anything else they’d bought at the concession stand and hadn’t yet consumed.

  “It’s here! It’s here!” The minister squealed like a child on Christmas morning. For an actor, the guy seemed unusually excited. Maybe he hoped for a repeat performance at next month’s Hammer Lock Festival.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, teetering against Jack.

  He glanced toward the Monkey Tunnel. A twenty-foot float rolled down the ramp—pink, green, and purple flowers framing a four-poster bed covered in gold satin sheets.

  “I didn’t know they made sheets that color,” she said.

  “I’m a flannel kind of guy myself.”

  “No kidding?” She glanced up at him.

  “Would I kid you at a time like this? When we’re about to consummate our marriage in front of fifteen thousand fans?”

  “Don’t even,” she threatened.

  “Lighten up. It’s a family show, remember? At least it used to be.”

  “Your chariot awaits!” the minister said, motioning them toward the float.

  Jack eased out of the ring and caught his new bride as she stumbled through the ropes. Coordination wasn’t her strong suit, but she had other attributes that were more important than being able to walk straight.

  He gave himself a mental slap. Get on the float, sail out of here, and get to the condo. He wanted to lock himself inside and stand under the coldest shower possible. Then, maybe, he could forget this night and the seductive taste of peppermint.

  Tatianna, Jack, and the minister climbed aboard the floating monstrosity. The minister took his position front and center, waving his Bible at the screaming fans. Jack leaned back against the headboard and waved his Stetson. His “wife” gripped the bedpost with both hands and smiled. Growled, more like it. He had a feeling she wasn’t big on being paraded around like a star. She’d get used to it. They all did sooner or later.

  The float maneuvered around the corner of the ring taking out the metal steps, a set of guardrails, and a few folding chairs. Good thing this was the end of the show. Between the tossed refreshments and demolition float, the set was cashed.

  They cruised up the ramp backstage, the curtain falling behind them.

  “That was wonderful! Wonderful!” The phony minister climbed down from the float.

  Jack jumped off and the actor grabbed his hand. “I’ve been a fan since forever! I was raised on Killer Kowolski and Verne Gagne. You don’t know how much it means to me to participate in a real rasslin’ match. Maybe next time they’ll let me be a guest referee.”

  The guy pumped Jack’s hand.

  “Jack! Jack!” Sully raced up to them, giving his hair the once over with both hands. “Great show, fabulous job, Henry. I can’t thank you enough for filling in at the last minute.” Sully winked.

  “It’s a good thing I had the experience.” The actor chuckled, and Sully slapped him on the back.

  “So, you’re local talent, then?” Jack asked Henry.

  “You two haven’t been formally introduced?” Sully said. “Jack Hudson, please meet my dear friend and minister of the First Presbyterian Church of East Bridge, Wisconsin, Harold Gardner.”

  “A real minister?” Jack’s blood ran cold. “You had a real minister marry us?”

  “That means…” Tatianna’s lips quivered.

  “We’re really married,” Jack finished for her.

  She collapsed on the makeshift bed in a puff of golden feathers.

  Chapter Seven

  It was freaky, horrific nightmare.

  Either that or an afterlife hallucination: Frankie and the cowboy had actually died in the fall and her ascension to heaven included a free fantasy—marrying Black Jack Hudson.

  “Wake up, girl. You’re scaring me,” an angel said.

  She opened her eyes and Maxine’s heavily made-up face came into focus. The woman’s silver hair was trimmed with a bright yellow headband and her eye shadow was a blend of lime green and bright pink.

  “What are you doing here?” Frankie asked. Maxine hadn’t made the jump with them.

  “Your uncle wanted me to take care of you. You fainted.”

  “I didn’t know you could faint in heaven.”

  “Heaven? Holy headlock, where did you get that idea?”

  “But the fall, then the marriage and then…oh, God.” She clutched her head to stop the spinning.

  With two fingers pressed against Frankie’s wrist, Max pursed her lips in concentration. “When was the last time you ate?”

  “I…uh…Don’t know. What happened? Why did I pass out?”

  “My guess? Low blood sugar. Pulse rate’s okay.” She placed Frankie’s hand on her stomach and gave it a motherly pat.

  “I thought I died.”

  “Stop that ridiculous talk. You’re fine.”

  “Am I really…married?”

  “Minister said the words all right.”

  Max placed a cool cloth on Frankie’s forehead. She closed her eyes.

  “Everything will be fine,” Max said. “That scheming uncle of yours miscalculated, that’s all.”

  Her eyes popped open. “Miscalculated? I’m supposed to marry Bradley. We have it all planned, a brunch reception to keep the cost down, flowers donated by Mott’s Funeral home. He’s already booked his cousin’s polka band that plays three hours for the price of two.”

  “Thrilling,” Max said.

  “Bigamy is against the law in this state, isn’t it?”

  Max shrugged.

  “What state are we in, again?”

  “Sounds like the state of confusion.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Not on my best sweatshirt you’re not.”

  Frankie eyed Max’s sweatshirt that read, “High Flyers Drool, Mat Men Rule” in electric yellow. A migraine started to burn behind Frankie’s eyes.

  “I want to go home.”

  “Of course you do.” Max patted her forehead with the damp cloth. “You’ve had quite a night. I have to say, that jump was amazing. Ratings are gonna soar.”

  “Ratings?” She sat up and snatched the cloth out of Max’s hand. “What is it with you people? I could have been killed.”

  “Don’t be silly. Jack would never have let anything happen to you.”

  “Only because he didn’t know I was the evil niece of his sadistic boss. Otherwise, you’d be ordering my coffin right about now. By the way, I’m partial to walnut.”

  “Didn’t you wake up on the pity pot?” Max paced across the room and unzipped a garment bag that hung on the back of the door.

  �
��Yeah, well, I have a right to feel a little sorry for myself. I’m lucky I survived that stunt.” Not to mention the incendiary kisses from Black Jack Hudson.

  “Had nothing to do with luck. The man holding you is one of the most talented athletes in the business. Talented in more ways than one.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked. “My feathers ruffled all over watching the two of you play tongue twister.”

  “It was a trick.” Frankie’s insides tingled at the memory of the intimate contact.

  “He didn’t kiss you?”

  “Oh, he kissed me, all right. It was a trick to get me to jump.”

  “I could think of worse ways to make you jump.”

  “I don’t like being tricked.”

  “Ah, honey, he did what he had to do.” She ambled toward Frankie, adjusting the black garment bag over her arm. “Would you rather he’d shoved you from behind?”

  “He couldn’t. I didn’t have any equipment.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Don’t try to make sense of this.” Stretching out on the cot, she pressed the washcloth over her eyes. She sure as heck couldn’t make sense of this night, this terrifying, horrendous, thrilling night. A part of her had actually enjoyed certain moments of the show, like when she attacked Prince Priceless and sent him screaming from the ring. Yes, she was losing her mind… and perhaps part of her heart?

  No, she couldn’t be falling for the tall, dark, and handsome cowboy-wrestler whose kisses obliterated all sense, all thought. She was being juvenile. It was just a few kisses, kisses that obviously had no impact whatsoever on Black Jack Hudson.

  This was really about missing her soul mate, her sturdy and dependable pre-fiancé. The animal lust she felt for Jack wasn’t real, nor was it a threat to her well-crafted life plan with Bradley.

  Too bad Bradley didn’t kiss like that.

  She jumped to her feet and paced the small room. Bradley was perfect, the right choice, the mature choice. He was nothing like Jack, a man who pretended to beat up other men for a living, a man who planned to dump this career and wander the countryside like a tumbleweed in a windstorm, doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

  A man who set her body on fire with a single kiss. She stopped dead in her tracks. “I’m done, Max. I’m leaving tonight and never coming back.”