Page 32 of A Fighter’s Love

“Perfect.” She tore her attention from him. “Is this your car?”

“Yeah…well, company car anyway.”

“What do you do?” She realized she had no idea. She always thought of Jackson as a boxer, but of course he had a day job away from the gym, the way they all did.

“I’m an IT consultant, currently working with some major travel firms.”

“Sounds interesting.”

He threw her a grin. “Yeah, it is, but mainly it pays the bills and gives me time to train.”

“And training takes up a lot of time.”

“It does.”

Again she looked at his tendon-rich forearms as he held the steering wheel. She would never have guessed he sat at a computer for his day job. Dale worked in construction so he was physical, using his bulk to shift concrete and bricks around. But Jackson…he’d surprised her.

Dale leaned forward. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Yes, very.” She smiled and tried not to think of the huge linguine she’d had earlier. Eating out twice in one day was an absolute rarity for her, but she’d manage.

“Good, because I’m starving,” Dale said, leaning back again.

Chapter Nine

Silence filled the car. Jenny racked her brains for something to say, but rather than saying something wrong, she decided to remain quiet, at least until they were all sitting face to face.

“Here it is,” Jackson said, indicating and slipping neatly into a parking space.

“Wow, that wasn’t far at all.” Jenny studied the emerald green canopy hanging over a polished black door. Swirling golden writing on the window to the left readCrème de la Crèmeand several candles flickered on the sill. Beside the door stood two tall topiary trees shaped like lollipops and a hessian mat, set with brass liners, readBienvenue.

Dale was quick to hop out of the car and within seconds he was pulling open the passenger door. He held out his hand to her.

Jenny took it and he pulled her gently to standing.

“It’s okay,” he said, when she drew level with him. “Don’t look so nervous.”

“I’m not.” Oh, but she was. Being this close to Dale, remembering that kiss. Wanting to kiss him again but not knowing if it would ever happen. It was a strange kind of twisted emotional torture.

He released her hand and set his palm in the small of her back. “Come on, let’s get inside.”

Although his touch was gentle as he steered her to the restaurant, there was also something determined about the pressure he was exerting. She couldn’t tell if he was angry with her for what she’d said, frustrated with himself for his reaction, or if he just wanted to rip her clothes off and go for it the way they were about to a few nights previously.

Jackson walked next to her and for the second time she felt surrounded by them, tiny between their big bodies. She liked it, a lot, that sensation of being small and protected by two skilled fighters.

The air insideCrème de le Crèmewas laced with wonderful scents, and heavy chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The furniture was dark polished wood and several couples sat at candlelit tables, their conversations hidden beneath gentle French music.

They were led to a table at the back of the restaurant. The alcove was decorated with a mural depicting a tropical island full of lush green vegetation and a standing lamp, the base a huge pineapple, lit the corner.

“This is so unusual,” Jenny said.

“Do you like it?” Jackson asked, pulling out a chair for her.

“Yes, it’s quaint yet funky at the same time.”

He smiled and took a seat next to her.

Dale sat opposite.

---