Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) - Sidney Halston Page 0,100
planting a kiss on it.
“Morning, Tony.”
“Howdy, Jess. You like my yoga gear?” Travis asked.
Jessica looked up at his shirt and burst out laughing. Across the front it said, I’d flex but I love this shirt.
“Cocky, aren’t you?”
“Oh, darlin’, I love it when the word cock—”
There was a loud cough. “All right, all right. Let’s get this show on the road.” Slade punched Travis’s shoulder playfully, although a little harder than necessary.
“Okay, guys. Grab one of those mats.”
The guys grabbed mats and spread them out on the floor.
“Basically, you guys are going to do what I do,” she told them. “You don’t have to overdo it. Just do the best you can.”
The first few minutes began with a lot of catcalls and whistles every time Jessica stretched or moved. Each time she came close to one of the men to adjust a pose, they winked or flirted. That lasted about ten minutes. From then on, there was silence and grunts. Jessica could’ve been naked and no one would have noticed her. After forty-five minutes of class, the only two remaining were Tony and Thompson. Thompson, the newest fighter to join the academy was arrogant but in great shape. During the final minutes of the class it looked like an all-out competition between the two men.
Francesca walked in, wearing black leggings with black stiletto boots that went to her knees and a loose-fitting sheer black blouse that went just past her ass. She looked less formal than normal but definitely overdressed for the gym.
“Seems you have two winners, Frances. Tony and Thompson,” Jessica said.
“Nope. Just one winner. Tony wasn’t in the competition,” Francesca corrected her.
Tony’s eyes narrowed.
“So when’s the date?” Francesca asked.
“After I catch my breath and the blood rushes back to my head, I’ll let you know,” a red-faced and exhausted-looking Thompson said with a weak grin.
Tony stormed out of the gym.
“Harder than it looked, wasn’t it, boys?” Francesca addressed the other men, all sprawled out on their mats.
They just grunted.
—
The following day was Worth the Fight Academy’s grand reopening. It had been postponed almost a month due to Slade being hospitalized. Most of the town was there, as well as the fighters. Only one person was missing: Tony.
After most of the people had left, the gang took the party to the Pier. Jessica sat on Slade’s lap as she talked across the table to Francesca.
“What crawled up Tony’s ass? Why wasn’t he there?”
“Who knows? He’s probably getting drunk with some skank as we speak,” Francesca answered.
“You need a man, Frances. I want to find you a guy,” Chrissy slurred.
“No thanks, hon. I’m good.”
The eyes of Chrissy, Jessica, and Jamie Lynn narrowed at Francesca, but her demeanor had changed so drastically, the women thought it best not to ask any further questions.
“Hey, Vi, how are you settling in? Town treatin’ you well?” Travis asked Violet.
Violet glanced sideways at Cain, who was scowling, before answering Travis. “Yeah. For the most part everyone’s been welcoming. I’m starting next week at Chrissy’s medical office.”
“Good. You know where to find me if you need anything, sugar,” Travis said with a wink.
Cain slammed his beer mug on the table and walked away.
Travis shrugged. Violet looked away.
The rest of the evening passed with drinks, laughter, and good company. By midnight, all the men were drinking beer by the pool tables and the women were chatting loudly at a booth.
The door to the Pier opened, and all the women stopped speaking, which meant that the bar was suddenly quiet. Which meant that the men stopped playing pool to turn around and figure out what was going on.
Jamie Lynn was the first to speak. “Jesus Christ Almighty! Who the hell is that?”
“Wow,” Jessica muttered, her mouth open.
“OMG!” Chrissy exclaimed.
“Holy…wait.” Francesca squinted. “Enzo?”
The man turned, showing them a black faux hawk and devastatingly beautiful green eyes. His face, which had looked angry, relaxed. He strode over to Francesca and grabbed her hand.
“Frankie?”
“Enzo? What are you doing here? I thought you were in Brazil. And please, not Frankie. It’s Frances or Francesca.”
“Long story,” he told her.
“Where’s Isabella?”
“Even longer story.”
Tony chose that moment to walk into the bar. His eyes narrowed when he saw Francesca and the man with the faux hawk still holding her hand. Tony coughed. Francesca chose to ignore Tony but took advantage of the moment to address the rest of the drooling women. “Guys, this is my cousin, Lorenzo Silva.”
“I remember you,” Slade said. “You used to train at WtF when you were younger.”