Scottish Swag

by Cristina Grenier

  “I’d appreciate it, Mr. Maloney, if you’re refrain from speaking to my daughter in that tone.” A deep baritone warning was enough to capture his attention and Torran’s head jerked up to see a sizeable man standing behind Savannah.

  The mere sight of him was enough to make the Irishman’s mouth drop open in total shock.

  Tyrone Jones. The Tyrone Jones, boxing legend, former world heavyweight champion and one of the most decorated fighters in the history of the sport, stood before him, strongly muscled arms crossed over his broad chest.

  And he looked pissed as hell.

  “Daddy, don’t.” Torran’s shock only increased as Savannah turned to the man, her gaze exasperated. “It’s just in his nature. It’s fine.”

  “Well it’s in my nature to kick a man’s ass if he can’t speak to my baby girl properly.”

  Tyrone fucking Jones.

  Torran must have been gaping like an idiot, because the next thing he knew, Savannah was smiling - laughing softly at his expression. “I think I surprised him.”

  “Pretty sure you did. I know he surprised the hell out of me when he let Kelton beat the shit out of him.”

  That was enough to snap him out of his star struck reverie. “I didn’t let him beat the shit out of me.” That was, in fact, almost exactly what he’d done. “I fucking choked. I was under a lot of pressure.”

  “Right.” Jones didn’t even pretend to consider his profession, instead turning back to his daughter with a small smile. “Any particular reason you come to visit me in the middle of your work day, baby?”

  Torran realized exactly what she was going to say about a half second before it came out of her mouth. There was enough time for him to be shocked without the additional second he needed to stop her.

  “Daddy, Torran’s coach quit on him. He needs a new trainer and I was hoping you could help us out.”

  “Fuck no.” He responded a moment too late, much to the surprise of father and daughter, who both looked at him as if his opinion mattered slightly more than that of a three-year-old child. “I can’t. I’m not a boxer and I don’t have time to learn an entirely new technique.”

  “Strong words for a man whose own technique failed him.” Fucking Christ, Tyrone was just as savage as his daughter. Torran finally realized exactly where she got her sharp tongue from. “I’m sure that choking will be the perfect way to get that title back.”

  Torran’s eyes narrowed at the blatant challenge. “If I wanted my title back, I’m sure my technique would do me just fine.”

  “Certainly. I can see how you’d depend on it. It’s just reliable enough to let you luck your way to the top without serving you well when you act on impulse.” Torran was used to getting into fights. Before he started working with Savannah, fighting was his MO - both in and out of the ring. But Tyrone Jones’ reputation was such that, even in the heat of the moment, Torran thought twice about swinging at him.

  And the older man knew it.

  “You look like you got a little steam to let off, young one.” Tyrone arched a dark brow in unquestionable amusement. “Why don’t we step into the ring?”

  If anything, Torran would have thought that his pacifist publicist would be against his fighting her father. True, the man was a boxing legend, but in Torran’s mind, they were pretty evenly matched. He was pretty sure that he could take the old guy, and Savannah would at least try to prevent her father getting hurt.

  But the young woman said absolutely nothing. In fact, she only smiled at him as Tyrone turned to lead the way into the gym. “Coming, Torran?”

  Fuck.

  She had set him up - and he fell for it hook, line and sinker.

  **

  Savannah had never been one for pointless fighting, but this match was one of the most interesting she had ever witnessed. If she wasn’t mistaken, that was nervousness she’d seen in Torran’s eyes as he reluctantly followed her father into the training ring. In her mind, the two were evenly matched. While her father had experience on his side, Torran had youth and the sheer drive to win.

  At least, he had before his last fight.

  She was still trying to figure out how someone as stubborn as him had suddenly lost his will to fight, and she was determined to help him win his title back - damn what everyone else said.

  And they were saying quite a lot.

  Carthright was sure she had tanked her career, and he was far too gleeful for his own good, asking her if she wanted to return to her desk at least five times a day. She got at least ten or eleven calls a day asking for interviews and articles. So far, she had given them nothing - and that was the way it was going to stay until she figured all of this out. Torran, of course, had his lips sealed tightly - and Savannah was bound and determined to figure out why.

  But for the moment, the immense man needed to be taken down a peg or two. Not because Savannah liked to see him beaten, but because he was far too apathetic for a man who’d just been robbed of something he had worked so hard for. Savannah wasn’t self-absorbed enough to think that Torran was content just because she let him get all touchy feely. In all honesty, she wasn’t even sure how she felt about that. Only that she wanted to comfort him if she could - and he definitely seemed to enjoy the comforting.

  But he needed to get his head back in the game. Torran was a fighter, and he deserved to be in his element. Pretending got neither of them anywhere.

  Standing on the edge of the ring, Savannah crossed her arms over her chest, trying to appear casual as her heart thundered in her ears.

  Considering how nervous she was, the fight was exceedingly short. Torran went for her father immediately with everything he had - a completely different man than he’d been the day of his fight. It was obvious that he thought he had something to prove.

  Tyrone Jones had no such illusions. He’d spent his entire youth proving himself. Now, it was just about placating himself.

  And that was more than enough to counteract Torran. When the younger man came at him Tyrone just used his own fuel against him. Their fighting styles were different, but the elder man had studied his art enough to know where and when the former champ would strike. He might have about twenty years on Torran, but his fists were heavier, corded with strength from those additional years of fighting.

  True, Savannah wanted to see how the fight would go, but the moment her father’s fist connected with Torran’s recently set nose, she hopped into the ring, alarmed.

  She’d seen enough.

  “Ok, ok!” Taking hold of Torran’s shoulders, Savannah, pressed him backwards, frowning at his gushing nose. “That’s enough. You good?” Both men looked to her in surprise as she dug a handful of napkins out of her purse to press to Torran’s face. His hands rose immediately and, for a moment, she thought he was going to push her away. But then, his eyes caught hers and he merely took the napkins from her, using them to clean himself up.

  Once he had turned from her to saunter from the ring, Savannah took a deep breath, turning to face her father. The older man looked from her to Torran’s retreating back before arching a brow.

  She knew what he was going to say before he said it. “I know, I know.” She breathed, running a hand through her loose curls embarrassedly. “Never step into a ring in the middle of a fight. His nose is already broken, Dad. I didn’t want to do any more unneeded damage.”

  “Right.” Tyrone gave her a long look that made her cheeks bloom. She didn’t like that look. Her father had always known her better than anyone else, and that didn’t particularly appeal to her right now. The last thing she needed right now was questions about her personal life. “I think you need to talk to your boy.”

  Savannah groaned. “He’s not my-”

  “Talk to him, Savvy. I can’t work with the unwilling.” With that, Tyrone stepped from the ring himself, flexing his fingers to revive the circulation there. Savannah watched him retreat to his office before reminding herself why she’d come here. She was trying to bring two stubborn men
together, no matter how hard it might be. Torran couldn’t go on without a trainer - and he was going on.

  “Torran.” Deftly, Savannah slipped from the ring to find her client sitting on a bench just beside it. His nose had stopped bleeding, but he looked no less upset with himself. “Torran, I just...I want you to get back on your feet.” Tentatively, she reached out to touch his arm. “I’m not trying to force anything, I just...I thought my dad might be able to help.”

  For a long beat, he said nothing. When he did speak, his bitter tone made her flinch. “Your Dad, Tyrone Jones? Fuck, Savannah, why didn’t you say something?” She could tell he was putting it all together in his mind - the way she sparred, the way she must have grown up - and most of all, how he’d underestimated her knowledge of the fighting world.

  “I like to think I don’t make my way through life riding my father’s reputation.” The young woman couldn’t stop herself from bristling slightly. This was exactly why she didn’t like people knowing that Tyrone Jones was her father. She didn’t want them assuming anything about her before they got to know her as a person. Of course, Torran wouldn’t see it that way. He was just pissed she’d been hiding something so huge from him. “It wasn’t important until you made it important.”

  “Me?” He barked incredulously. “You’re the one who brought me here?”

  “And you threw that fight.” At the accusation, Torran’s eyes widened. But Savannah didn’t want to argue, she just wanted to fix whatever was broken. “I get it, you don’t want to talk about it. But if you’re not going to help me help you, I’m handing you off to my Dad.”

  “Handing me off?” Torran glowered at her, tossing his handful of bloodied napkins aside. “Last time I checked, Savannah, you’re my publicist, not my babysitter. I told you I don’t need a new coach, and I don’t-”

  “Torran.” Savannah’s tone was so sharp she even surprised herself. “You might be fine with lying to me, but don’t lie to yourself. That title is yours and you’re getting it back. If you won’t agree to simple training...I’ll never let you touch me again.” Her last promise was uttered in a tone barely above a whisper - lest her father or anyone else working out hear.

  Despite its volume, her threat was just as potent as it would have been had she yelled it at the top of her lungs. Torran stared at her as if she had lost her mind, and for a split second, Savannah found herself strangely flattered. He hadn’t even looked that disheartened after he lost his title match. It almost made her think she was important to him…

  But that, she knew, was wishful thinking. Torran liked the sex - and she happened to as well. It was a way of ensuring his good behavior.

  Not that she was entirely impartial to his bad behavior…

  “Savannah…” His warning growl was meant to intimidate her, but Savannah held her ground. He needed this just as much as she did - perhaps more.

  “No, Torran. It’s a simple yes or no question: Are you training with my father or not?”

  What the hell was he so afraid of? The man she met two months ago had nothing on his mind but winning. He was a fighting machine so dangerous that his opponents could barely touch him. Now, it was almost as if something was physically keeping him from the ring.

  “You do realize you’re betting your career on me, don’t you? That you might have a little too much blind faith in me?”

  At the mere suggestion, Savannah only smiled. She may have a lot of shortcomings, but trusting her intuition wasn’t one of them. That and her father’s teachings had always led her down a pretty interesting path. “Are you saying you don’t want free reign anymore?”

  Torran’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. You win, Savvy. I’ll talk to your father...and you and I will have a private discussion later.”

  At the prospect, Savannah’s thighs clenched and she swallowed thickly. While Torran had certainly touched her since their first night together, she’d been too busy running damage control to do much more than quiver at the memory of him inside her. Apparently, her grace period had come to an end.

  Lifting her chin, she merely met his gaze challengingly. “Fine.”

  She expected him to pinch her ass - to grab her and stake his claim. Either of those things would have been typical Torran behavior. Instead, he merely reached out to brush a thumb across her lower lip, his expression unexpectedly dark. “Fuck me, you’ve got more spirit than I do, Savvy.” His words were unexpectedly tender. So much so that by the time he left her, Savannah convinced herself that she’d imagined them.

  Chapter 11: Unstoppable Force and Immovable Object

  Savannah should have long learned that just because Torran agreed to something didn’t mean he would go quietly. Even if he promised to placate his physical needs. Yes, he worked with her father on a daily basis to refine his technique, but he fought the elder man the entire way.

  This, the young woman could have predicted. It was a classic case of unstoppable force meets immovable object. Tyrone wanted Torran to familiarize himself with boxing techniques so he could avoid them better, but the Irishman was convinced that he was prepared for everything that might come his way.

  Except Tyrone’s right hook, of course.

  He never seemed to be able to block it, and as a result, he massaged his jaw through half the hours he spent in the office, his expression surly.

  Though she knew it was none of her business, Savannah tried to speak with her father.

  “Dad, you know he didn’t lose the match because of his technique.” After Torran’s third session with her father, she cornered him in his office. Her client was taking a beating, but it was because he was too stubborn to listen, rather than being unable to benefit from the training at all. “Maybe work with him a little?”

  Her father merely snorted, glancing up at her from where he worked on a mountain of files from the cabinet behind his desk. “That boy needs to learn a little humility. Can’t tell he came from the streets. Seems he’s gotten a little high and mighty since everything was handed to him.”

  Savannah couldn’t help but frown at that assessment. “Well what do you expect? Can’t he enjoy life after suffering for so long?”

  “Savvy, in this world, it doesn’t pay to remember where you came from.” Tyrone replied, his expression somber. “Maloney’s got to come to terms with why he lost in the first place. If he won’t admit that, he’s got a long way to go back to the top.”

  With a low exhalation of disappointment, Savannah sank into the chair before her father’s desk. She was doing her best to set up a series of press conferences announcing the man’s impending come back, but how the hell was she supposed to do that if Torran didn’t want to come back? Sure, he was training, but he still wouldn’t talk to her.

  At least not about anything that didn’t have to do with his business or wanting her physically. The young woman was torn between frustration and empathy. She couldn’t stand to see him dejected when he really wanted to regain his title, but if he wouldn’t divulge to her, how the hell was she really supposed to help?

  “Why are you so invested in this, Savannah?” At her father’s question, she jerked to attention.

  “What?”

  Tyrone merely smirked at her guilty expression. “I asked why you’re so invested. I know your boss is up your ass, but I don’t see any shame in admitting defeat when someone’s fighting you so hard. If Maloney’s dead set on crashing his career, why let him take you with him?”

  Uh-oh.

  Savannah could feel her face heating as she searched in vain for a viable explanation. She had hoped that, somehow, she’d be able to interact with both her father and Torran without some sort of confrontation over the obvious elephant in the room. It didn’t help that the Irishman often tried to undress her with his eyes when he was supposed to be paying attention to Tyrone. Her father would have to be blind not to notice.

  And Tyrone Jones had twenty twenty vision.

  “Something happened to him, Daddy. I just want to find out what it
is.” It was as good an excuse as any. The Joneses were, after all, a stubborn clan who didn’t like to be thwarted.

  “Alright, baby.” Holding his hands up in defeat, Tyrone merely sighed, his gaze knowing. “I just hope you’re sure about this.”

  When Savannah was younger, her father had always been adamantly against her dating anyone in his circle. Fighters, he was convinced, weren’t for his daughter. She had enough of that lifestyle following him around for her adolescence. When she was a teenager, he actively chased hordes of horny teenagers in the gym away from her.

  But things were different now. Savannah was a grown woman, and, as much as she loved her father, he wasn’t going to run her.

  But that didn’t mean that his reservations about a man like Torran weren’t unfounded. In fact, Savannah herself was beginning to wonder whether she hadn’t lost her mind. She was putting her career and her sanity on the line for a man she only half understood.