Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2)

by Sidney Halston

  “Hi,” she echoed.

  “Miss me?”

  “Maybe.” She laughed. “I’m so damn happy for you guys. I knew y’all would win,” she said, her Southern drawl coming out. He had sent her a text after the fight.

  Then her voice changed, becoming more serious. “So, um, it’s probably none of my business, but I thought you’d like to know that Tony is here at the bar. He’s one drink short of being kicked out on his ass by Jett.” Slade looked at his watch. Tony’s fight had ended about an hour and a half ago. It was now almost eleven at night.

  “Fuck. I’ll be right there.”

  “Okay. See you soon.”

  Slade jumped up and walked inside. “Save my dinner. Gotta go. Tony’s being…well, Tony.” Then he grabbed his keys and headed to the Pier. On his way, he called Francesca and left her a message.

  When he arrived, his eyes first searched for Jessica, who was wiping down the bar. As if she felt the same pull, she turned to face him, and gave him a grin. Then she used her chin to point to Tony, who stood by the bar talking to a small group of women. Slade let out a breath and walked over to Jessica.

  “He’s been making his pretty-girl rounds for the last few hours,” she told Slade in a low voice. “I stopped serving him about twenty minutes ago.”

  “Sorry about this, Jessica.”

  “Not your fault. He’s a grown man.”

  “Thanks for calling me. I don’t understand what his problem is. He won—he should be happy.”

  Jessica shrugged. “Maybe he’s celebrating.”

  “Who the fuck knows. I called Frances. Thank God for her, ’cause the idiot only listens to her. With some luck she’ll get the message and come over. She’s awesome with him.”

  Jessica went to take a customer’s order, and Slade settled down on a stool, keeping an eye on Tony and hoping Francesca would arrive soon.

  —

  Jessica noticed Francesca the moment she came into the Pier, and instantly she felt a wave of jealousy. Did the buxom redhead always have to be so perfectly dressed? Tonight she had on a pencil skirt, silk blouse, and high heels. Jessica hated how insecure Francesca made her feel. She didn’t want be petty, and was trying to snap out of it before Slade could notice, but damn it, did the woman sleep in Prada?

  Jessica saw Francesca head over to where Slade was sitting. As the two spoke, Francesca’s hand occasionally grazed his shoulder or wrapped around his forearm. Very touchy- touchy, that one, Jessica grumbled to herself. Then she saw both of them look over at Tony; Francesca’s eyes narrowed, and she turned back to Slade and said something. Then she saw Jessica, and before Jessica had a chance to turn away, Francesca signaled to her.

  “A pinot noir, please,” Francesca said when Jessica came over to them. Hello to you too, Jessica thought sourly, but she nodded and brought Francesca a glass of wine.

  “What are we going to do about this bonehead?” Francesca said to Slade, continuing their conversation without acknowledging Jessica in the least.

  Slade, who must’ve noticed, said, “Uh, Frances, you’ve met Jessica, haven’t you? Jess, this is Francesca.”

  “Sorry—how rude of me. My mind was elsewhere,” Francesca apologized. “Hi, Jessica. It’s nice to see you.” Then she turned back to Slade. “I don’t understand. He just won—he shouldn’t be so broody.”

  Just then they heard a loud thump and some expletives from over in Tony’s direction.

  “What the fuck?” It was Tony’s voice.

  Jessica quickly rushed over to the table where Tony and a woman were arguing. Slade and Francesca followed.

  “You’re a fucking pig,” the woman shrieked.

  Tony’s face clearly showed the red mark of a slap.

  “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing here for the last hour?” he said in a loud voice. “You were flirting. I was buying you drinks.”

  “That does not mean you can talk to me like that, jerk. Go away.”

  “Yeah! Go away!” one of the woman’s friends cried.

  Jessica placed her hand around Tony’s forearm. “Listen, Tony, why don’t you come and sit with me at the bar? Jett’s going to kick you out if you cause any more trouble.”

  “Fuck Jett. I’m not moving from right here. I’m just talking to her.” He gestured to the angry woman next to him. He still hadn’t realized Francesca and Slade were right behind him.

  “Brother, come on. Let’s take a walk,” Slade urged.

  Tony turned around when he heard Slade. When he saw Francesca, his eyes narrowed. “What the fuck is she doing here?”

  “I called her,” Slade said.

  “Come on, Tony. Let’s go,” Francesca said.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  “What the hell’s your problem? What the fuck have I ever done to you?” Francesca said, exasperated.

  Tony tapped his temple hard. “You fuck with my head. Go away.”

  “No, you go away,” the woman at the table said.

  “Pa’ carajo! Fuck this, I’m outta here. You can pay for your own damn drinks.” He stood up, swaying a little. A table of men nearby was watching the altercation, and they snickered. “You got a problem?” He marched over to them and slammed his palms down on their table. “Let’s take it outside, assholes!”

  “Merda! Antonio, stop it,” Francesca ordered.

  “Stop saying shit in Portuguese that I can’t fucking understand.” He walked unsteadily away from the table and toward the door.

  As Slade followed Francesca and Tony out, Jessica called his name. When he turned to her, she reached into her pocket and tossed some keys to him. He caught them in the air. “I took them from Tony after the seventy-eighth drink,” she explained.

  “That’s my girl,” he said with a wink, before walking out the door.

  A moment later, to Jessica’s astonishment, he walked back in, jumped over the bar—jumped!—and snaked an arm around her waist, bringing her flush against his body. “I really need that mouth of yours.” Before she had a chance to think about it, he cupped her chin in his hand and placed his lips against hers. Her body, of course, melted into his, and her tongue met his, stroke for stroke. There were nearby catcalls and whistles. When he released her, her knees trembled, and any glimmer of insecurity had fled.

  “I think this would be the perfect time for Tony to start doing yoga, don’t you?” Slade told her. “If I can sober him up enough, maybe you can start tomorrow.”

  Shit. She had completely forgotten she’d promised Slade to help him with Tony.

  —

  “Just hold it for thirty more seconds. Come on, you can do it.”

  Slade watched as Jessica steadied the big, bulky man who was standing wobbly on one leg, his other foot tucked up against his knee, his arms straight up above his head, palm to palm. He looked like an oversized flamingo. Tony’s eyes were closed tightly and his breathing was shallow.

  “Five…four…three…two…one.” Jessica slapped his ass hard, and Tony put his right foot firmly on the mat.

  “She’s pretty handsy,” said a voice from behind Slade. He looked over his shoulder to see Francesca also looking at Jessica and Tony.

  “Lighten up. She’s just being playful,” Slade said. Inwardly, though, he was thinking, Yeah, what’s up with all the touching?

  Francesca rolled her eyes and walked back into her office. Shit if he knew what was eating away at Francesca. She’d been moody all day.

  “Hey.” Jessica and her smile came skipping over, taking him out of his thoughts.

  “Hey,” he repeated.

  “I think Tony did real good, don’t you? I mean, he didn’t even bitch. I thought he would be completely against this.”

  “I think Frances’s plan worked. Even though he won yesterday, it didn’t come as easily as he thought it would. He called me early this morning and said he was ready to train. I think his head’s back in the game. Here.” He took an envelope out of his back pocket and handed it to her.r />
  “What’s this?”

  “Payment.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I think you should have your yoga classes here. I’m going to speak with Frances about making yoga a permanent part of the guys’ training.”

  Jessica ripped open the envelope and saw a check. “No. No. No.” She handed it back. “I can’t take this.”

  “You have to. It’s yours. It’s for a month’s worth of classes.”

  “Helping you out with Tony while I do something I love does not need payment.”

  “Sure it does. I make money off Tony doing well. Tony is going to do well, so you need to earn your keep.”

  “Slade. God, you did so much to help me with…you know. Anyway, I can’t ever repay you. I am certainly not going to take your money. Here, please take it back.” She tried to push it back into his hands.

  “I’m tired of hearing you thank me and tell me about all I did to help you. You need to stop. I did what I could at the time, and I did it ’cause I wanted to. Regarding this money, it’s not even my money. It’s coming from Tony’s people. We’re billing it as part of his training. It’s your money, you’re taking it, and that’s the end of it.”

  Jessica closed her eyes and groaned.

  “So, I’m serious. How do you feel about having some sessions with the other guys? Maybe you can even have your own classes. Like, you know…with chicks.”

  Jessica snorted. “Chicks? Nice.”

  “Sorry. You know what I meant. With women.” He took her hand. “Come on, let’s go eat something. I’m starved.”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “My treat.” She fanned the envelope in the air.

  “I don’t think so.” He reached for her hand and pulled her outside.

  She was just about to protest about paying when her disloyal stomach rumbled. “I think your stomach just answered for you.”

  They strolled to a restaurant two doors away from the gym. He opened the door for her and waited for her to walk in. They ordered at the counter and then grabbed a booth.

  “You know one of the things I like most about you, Jess?” Slade took a big bite of his huge burger before continuing. “Your appetite.”

  Jessica’s eyebrows raised in a question.

  “Most women eat salad or expect me to order for them. You know exactly what you want and you don’t pretend to be someone else. If you want a huge-ass burger, you don’t order a salad, you order a huge-ass burger.”

  With her mouth full she said, “It’s delicious.” She swallowed. “Why would I order anything else?” She took another savory bite. “You know one of the things I like most about you?”

  “What?”

  “Well, first—”

  “First? That means there’s a second, which means there’s more than one thing you like about me.”

  “Slade, there are so many things I like about you.” She popped a french fry in her mouth. “So, as I was saying. First, I like that you don’t mind that I order and eat a huge-ass burger. And second, I like that you don’t order for me. You let me order for myself and don’t judge me for what I choose. But if there were ever a man who could order for me and know exactly what it is I wanted, it would be you.”

  “Jessica Cross, what a nice, chick-like thing to say.”

  She snorted. “Chick-like?”

  “Yeah, chick-like. With you, I always feel like the whiny chick. ‘Please go out with me.’ ‘Should I call her?’ ‘Should I play hard to get?’ ‘Does she like me?’ ‘Why hasn’t she called?’ You’re turning me into a pussy, Jessica.”

  She laughed until tears were coming out. “I like you. A lot. How could you doubt that?”

  He put his burger down. Then he took her burger out of her hands and placed it on her plate. “I guess that’s the problem. I don’t really just like you.” He leaned in and kissed her. “This place is not romantic but it’s very…you. Simple. Delicious. Not complicated. You’re strong, you’re funny, and you have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” She laughed, and he winked before continuing. “And you are so damn brave. So brave, Jess. It takes my breath away.” He took a deep breath but held her gaze. “I adore you, Jessica. Like just doesn’t cut it.”

  Jessica didn’t say anything for some time, and Slade began to wonder whether he’d said too much.

  When she finally spoke she said, “You know, I really thought I was in love with Dennis. I stayed with him longer than I should’ve. He’d hit me before, you know? Well, not actually hit me, but shoved me around.” Slade’s jaw twitched, and she could tell he was doing his damnedest to stay quiet. “I am so ashamed for staying in that relationship as long as I did. I don’t know why I did it. But these months with you, they’ve been the best of my life. You make me feel strong and courageous even when I feel ashamed. And not just brave because I left Dennis, but brave enough to pursue my dreams. You make me feel beautiful, and you make me feel like I can be myself. I’ve never had that before. Ever. Even with my parents, I have to fit a certain mold. So, Slade, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I more than like you too.” She glanced down for a moment, then tilted her head up to look at him again. “And you have a great ass too,” she said with a laugh.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Slade sat in his office trying to review spreadsheets with Francesca, but his mind kept wandering to Jessica. He hated having to leave her so early in the morning, but he had a crew of men coming daily to work on the renovations on the gym.

  Just then he noticed Francesca shifting uncomfortably in her chair and wincing.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

  “I had a tattoo done before I left Brazil, and I think it’s infected. Hurts like a mother,” she said as she rubbed her hip. “So, as I was saying, the numbers look—”

  “You shouldn’t ignore an infection,” he interrupted. “Have you gone to the doctor?”

  “Nah.” She waved her hand around. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “You want me to take a look?” He asked. “I know what an infected tattoo looks like.”

  “It’s kind of in a weird area. Not sure if that’s appropriate.”

  “It’s only weird if you make it weird.”

  She threw her hands up. “Ugh. Okay. Fine. I could use a second opinion—it’s really bothering me.” She unbuttoned her fitted black slacks and scooted them down by her hip, then pulled down her blue panties a little. The tattoo was by her hip bone. Slade bent down so that his face was right by her crotch.

  “Oh, that’s not good. It’s really red and scabby. You should definitely go t—” he began.

  Just then the door to the office swung open and Tony walked right in. He looked over at them and his eyes bulged out. “Shit, man. You’re one lucky hijo de puta!”

  Realizing what it must look like, Slade quickly stood as Francesca pulled her pants up and began to button them.

  Then Slade noticed Jessica standing right behind Tony. When she took in Francesca and Slade’s intimate-seeming position, she turned and left.

  “Damn it!” Slade said, pushing Tony out of the way to catch up to Jessica. “Jess! Wait up!”

  She just continued to walk away.

  “Jessica, I said to fuckin’ wait.”

  Jessica halted but didn’t turn around, her hand already on the door handle. Slade placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around. “It’s not what you think, baby. She’s just my business partner.”

  At that moment, a blond woman who was dressed like a flight attendant in a navy blue short skirt, cleavage spilling from her not-fully-buttoned white blouse, walked into the Academy. The woman was sex personified, and her eyes zoned in directly on Slade.

  “Hi, honey. I was in town, so I went to your place first. When you weren’t there, I figured you’d be here.” She put a hand on Slade’s shoulder and leaned in close. “It’s a short layover—we’ve got a lot of ground to cover in a short time.” She ran a finger down his chest.

  Jessica’s ey
es were full of unshed tears. “Perfect redhead in the office and beautiful blonde out here. All in, my ass!”

  Slade ignored the other woman and focused on Jessica. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’m all in. That’s me fucking changing for you!” he said in a pissed-sounding tone. Then his voice gentled, and he asked, “What did you come here for?” He reached for her, but she stepped away.

  “It was nothing. Go back to your redhead.” She turned and tried to walk out, but he caught her forearm. She spun around to face him. “Or your blonde!”

  “I told you, I don’t do fucking drama. Don’t be that girl, Jess. I won’t put up with it. She”—he pointed behind him to the blonde—“doesn’t do drama. That’s how I like it!” He immediately regretted the words. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He let go of her forearm and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, Jess, I’m sorry. That was an asshole thing to say.”

  She stood staring at him, her chin quivering. Then she turned and walked out.

  “Goddammit!” he said out loud to no one in particular.

  “Big-time fuck-up,” said Cain, who had apparently witnessed the entire thing from a nearby weight machine.

  “Fuck off, Cain. I like it better when you don’t talk.” Then he turned to the blonde. “Leave.”

  Slade turned around and marched back to his office, not waiting to see if the blonde had left or not.

  Francesca was sitting behind the desk, while Travis sprawled in the chair in front of it, eating a banana. Tony was perched on the desk, his back to Travis, close to Francesca, who seemed to be not amused but annoyed by Tony.

  “First of all, you see this?” Slade said to Travis, slamming the door shut. “This is a door. When it’s closed, knock. You don’t just waltz in and out of here. Second, I thought you were going to get me food.”

  Travis grinned. “Yeah, but this is so much better than food.”

  “What is?” Slade asked.

  “Watching Ricky Ricardo over here get turned down by Fancy. Look at him—he looks fit to be tied.”

  “It’s Francesca,” she automatically corrected Travis.

  “No, darlin’, it’s Fancy. Fancy shoes, fancy hair, fancy suits. Fancy.”