Page 83 of A Fighter’s Love

Jackson hadn’t pushed. Edward was military, he knew that much. Whatever business it was, he didn’t think he’d be told even if he asked. Edward wasn’t as big built as him, certainly not a heavyweight, but something about the way he moved, held himself, told Jackson he wasn’t a guy to be messed with. He could hold his own in a ring, with rules, sure, but he had a feeling Edward wouldn’t play by the rules if he found himself in a fight.

“I’ve just booked to take Sian and Coben to Spain for a weekend,” Edward said.

“Nice. Whereabouts?”

“Barcelona. Sian keeps on about the architecture and the parks. Thought we’d make a trip of it.”

“You’ll have a good time. We went about six months ago.”

“I know. I think it’s Jenny raving about the place that put Sian onto the idea.”

Jackson chuckled. “Sorry, mate.”

“Don’t be. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Did I hear you say Barcelona?” Dale said, catching Jackson’s attention.

“Yeah. We’re going.” Edward sipped his coffee.

“We had a blast, didn’t we?” Dale winked at Jackson. “Do you remember?”

Jackson felt his cock harden. Damn the man. He remembered all right. Dale and Jenny had decided it would be fun to tie his wrists to the headboard while he’d been asleep. When he’d woken he’d found them both sucking his cock. But they hadn’t let him come, not for an hour at least, and had teased him and used his mouth to find their own release. When he’d finally orgasmed, it had been incredibly intense and he’d broken the post of the bed from pulling his arms so frantically.

The next day they’d all been sheepish as they’d checkout of their hotel and left some cash for the damage.

“Yeah, I remember,” Jackson said, glancing at Jenny.

She picked up her coffee, went to take a sip but didn’t. She put it back down.

Jackson frowned. She wasn’t quite herself. He wondered if his suspicions were right.

“We should get going,” Sian said, tugging up Coben’s cuff to see his watch face.

“Bugger, yes we should.” Coben tutted. “The babysitter didn’t want to stay after midnight.”

“Sorry,” Sian said, standing. “We should stay and clear up.”

“Nonsense, that’s why dishwashers were invented.” Andre waved his arm in the air.

“And we didn’t clear up at yours last month.” Stella grinned then pulled Sian into a hug. “Thanks for coming over.”

“We’ve had a lovely time.”

Edward stood, as did Coben.

“We should get going, too,” Jackson said, his attention still on Jenny. “If that’s okay.”

“Yes.” She nodded then stifled a yawn. “I’m tired.” She looked up at Stella. “But it’s our turn next month. It won’t be Dale cooking, because he’d try and disguise a takeout as something he’d created.”

“Hey.” Dale rose from his chair and rested his hand on her shoulder. “I resent that.”

She laughed, the lovely tinkling sound Jackson adored. Laughter had been absent from her life for too many years. He liked to think he and Dale were helping to make up for that.

God I love her.

And him.

He looked between the two people in the world who meant the most to him. With a decision coming up whether or not to go professional with his boxing, he needed them more than ever—their strength, their wisdom, their absolute commitment to helping him make the best choice.

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