Page 2 of A Fighter’s Love

“Nerve in his shoulder, trapped, damaged, I dunno.” Jackson huffed.

“Good,” Michael said with a nod. “Should slow down his training.”

“Yeah, but I want a fair fight.” Jackson scowled, his dark eyebrows pulling low.

“You’ll still get one.” Michael took Jackson’s gloves from him.

“And so what if it’s not fair,” Billy said, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Fair is for pussies. You get an advantage, see a weakness, you grab it by the balls and don’t let go. That shoulder’ll be the spot to go for, his Achilles heel and all that.”

Dale allowed himself a moment to study Jackson, wondering if he’d take the conversation further. Billy wasn’t his favorite person in the world. He wasn’t Dale’s either, but Jackson had to deal with more shit from him than anyone else. He was in the spotlight, and on Billy’s radar constantly.

“Now where’s that bloody Jenny?” Billy looked at his watch. “Stupid cow was supposed to be here ages ago, she’s got work to do.”

Jackson pressed his lips together and turned away.

“Maybe she’s just finishing up her day job,” Dale said. It bugged the hell out of him how Billy treated his girlfriend. She was timid, sweet, the sort who wouldn’t say boo to a goose, and Billy used that placidness to his advantage—to hisfulladvantage.

It wound Jackson up, too. They’d talked about it enough times. Wondered about getting involved, telling her to leave him. She could do better, much better. But ultimately it wasn’t up to them. They had no claim on her. She needed to figure that out for herself. But if she ever did, and became a free agent…well, he wouldn’t say no to taking her out. Getting to know her a little. Seeing if beneath the drab clothes there was a super sexy body. He suspected there was. She was a dark horse, the type of woman who really needed to trust a man before she’d open up.

Maybe one day he’d be able to take on the challenge of earning her trust…

“She needs to get her arse in gear and hotfoot it to the club.” Billy tutted. “If she’s doing overtime at that stupid fucking office of hers then I hope those posh cunts are paying her.”

Tension hung in the air. It was on the tip of Dale’s tongue to ask Billy whenhewas going to start paying Jenny for all the hours she put in. She was a whiz with numbers and he needed her because the dumb ass couldn’t add two and two together. Some business manager he was.

Jackson cleared his throat and puffed up his chest. His fists were clenched.

Dale was reminded of a cobra about to strike.

Jackson took a step closer to Billy and opened his mouth.

Dale shook his head at him, just a tiny bit, almost imperceptibly, but Jackson saw it and halted. He closed his mouth. It wouldn’t do anyone good to have Billy in a foul mood for the rest of the evening. He had a hot temper and a sharp tongue. He also wasn’t afraid to throw his weight around, though there wasn’t as much skill in his punches these days. An injury had taken the sight of his left eye several years ago and put paid to his boxing career.

Plus it was Jenny who’d likely be at the gym till midnight, sorting out the tax returns Billy had been on about all week. So it wouldn’t be fair on her to aggravate her boyfriend and then leave her to cope with the fallout.

“Damn it,” Billy said, turning. “I’ll have to call her, chase her dawdling arse along.” He stomped toward the small room in the corner of the gym he used as an office. It was a dump, the computer antiquated and the filing cabinets topped with junk. It always smelled of sweat too, unless Jenny was in there. Then her sweet powdery perfume masked the odor.

“Get yourself out of here, Jackson,” Michael said, nodding at the changing room door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll go in the ring.”

“Sure thing, gov.”

“Dale can spar with you.” Michael looked at Dale. “You in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure.” Dale shrugged. “If it’s usual time, I can’t get offsite before five thirty.” He was more than happy to spar with Jackson. It got his blood speeding through his veins and heated the very core of him. Jackson was really damn good, but so was Dale. He knew he made a good training partner for him. Not least because afterward, with all that testosterone hurtling around their systems, they’d find somewhere quiet to go and release the tension. It didn’t matter where, so long as they had that all-important privacy.

Secret relationships were hard, but Jackson made it worth the effort. Dale couldn’t imagine life without him.

“Suits me,” Jackson said, not looking Dale’s way, though Dale knew he’d be pleased with the plan. “I’ll see you then, gov.” He turned and headed to the changing room.

“Don’t be late,” Michael called after him.

Jackson held his right arm up, a backward salute, but didn’t pause.

“How’s your hamstring holding up?” Michael asked, turning to Dale.

“All good.”

“Sure?”

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