Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) (31 page)

Slade quickly introduced Travis and Cain to Jessica, who smiled and shook their hands. “And last but not least, this here is my new business partner, Francesca. Francesca, this is my friend Jessica.” Jessica’s eyes widened, and Chrissy noticed the gulp she took before politely shaking Francesca’s hand.

After the introductions were made they all sat down and chatted about the upcoming changes to the Academy.

“So next month we start training Antonio. They call him Scarface. He’s the next big thing. No one’s been able to rein him in. He’s a loose cannon. Cocky as fuck. Great fighter, though. Has gone through a dozen trainers. We need to keep him happy but focused. If we can get Tony back into fighting shape and win at least one big-ticket fight, we can really bring fresh notoriety to WtF.”

Francesca gave a sultry smile. “Don’t you worry, honey. I’ll keep him happy.” She laid a perfectly manicured hand on Slade’s forearm.

Chrissy noticed Jessica’s cheeks grow crimson. She totally understood the reaction. If another woman had called Jack “honey” or touched any part of his body, Chrissy would have most definitely wrung the woman’s neck. But Chrissy knew her brother, and she knew that he was completely oblivious to the flirtatious vibe coming from Francesca.
Men! So stupid and blind sometimes
.

Just then Jessica whispered something to Slade, who immediately looked disappointed, sighed, and walked her to the door.

“It was nice to meet y’all. Gotta run,” Jessica called. Everyone waved goodbye as she left. An hour later, Chrissy and Jack were alone again.

“So, Whiskey, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Oh no. No, no, no. I’ve enough grief with my legal name. I don’t need more aggravation.”

“I think it’s cute.”

“No, babe. Not cute.”

“So you don’t like Whiskey, and you don’t like Jack Daniels. What
do
you like, sweetheart?”

Jack took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about something your brother said. I don’t want to scare you, and this is not how I envisioned doing this, but I love you so much, baby. And while we haven’t been together long, we’ve known each other our whole lives.” He paused, and Chrissy sensed he was nervous. “I know exactly what I would love for you to call me.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Husband,” Jack said, and smiled.

Chrissy gasped and covered her mouth. Still smiling, Jack stood up and left the room briefly, leaving Chrissy even more shell-shocked. He came back a minute later, sat down, and lifted her onto his lap. “You okay? Talk to me.”

“Wh-what are you saying, Jack?”

“I’m saying that I’d like to call you my wife. Marry me, Chrissy. Your brother’s right. Why are we shacking up? You love me, I love you. When it’s right, it’s right, and there’s no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Chrissy smiled widely. “Are you sure about this? Seems a little sudden. I’m not sure you’ve thought this through.”

“Not sudden. I
have
been thinking about it, and I had all these ideas and plans as to how I was going to ask you, but … I don’t know, it just felt right to ask you now. Today. No bells and whistles.” Jack set Chrissy down on the couch, reached into his pocket for a small black box, and got on one knee. “Christine Martin, marry me.”

“Are you asking or commanding? That didn’t really sound like a question,” she teased, but happy tears were starting to form.

“You’re right.” He grabbed her hand and slipped a beautiful two-carat square diamond on Chrissy’s finger. “It’s not a question. You’re marrying me. It’s a done deal.”

Chrissy smiled through her tears. “You had a ring,” she whispered.

“I did. See, it wasn’t so sudden.”

“It’s beautiful, my fiancé and soon-to-be husband.” Her endearment was all he needed to know that she was saying yes to him. To them. Forever.

2013 was an unforgettable year. I “met” some of the loveliest ladies I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting and I feel truly blessed that we’ve had the opportunity to work together. First, Sarah E. Younger. Seriously, what can I say? Best. Agent. Ever. You fell in love with the story from day one and have been a constant cheerleader. You helped me navigate the stressful and confusing waters of the literary world. And, of course, you love all things Drogo! Because of you, I was doubly blessed: you partnered me up with the amazing Junessa Viloria. I can’t say enough wonderful things about Junessa. It’s an author-editor relationship made in heaven. Junessa’s support and advice (and love of my story) made me want to work harder, and I’m a better storyteller because of it (and the steamy scenes are steamier because of it). So … from the bottom of my heart, thank you, J and S.

Next, the wonderful ladies of #ladieswritenight. In a world full of envious people, you guys have been amazing and supportive … and funny as hell! Had you not cheered me on night after night, I would have taken thirty years to finish book two and to edit book one. Thank you Rachel, Violet, Anna, and Tif. I wish you all luck in your writing endeavors and can’t wait to see your books on the shelves. See you tonight, ladies!

Bloggers are so important in this industry. Y’all take time out of your busy lives to read our books, review them, and then help spread the word—all for the love of books and good story. There are just too many bloggers to thank and I wish I could thank each and every one of you individually. You guys have been unbelievably supportive and I thank you all.

A huge thanks to Adriana for reading
Against the Cage
and everything else I’ve written. Thanks for all your help. I love you. One day I will publish your comments, because they are some of the funniest (and most helpful) things I’ve ever read. A shout-out to my other beta readers, Leisha (
rolopolobookblog.com
) and Michelle Q., who read
ATC
in the early stages and loved it.

Thank you to my parents, who help me so much with my kids so that I have time to do the thousands of things I have to do every day. Thanks to my dad for being the person who inspired me to be such an avid reader—if I didn’t love to read as much I do, I
wouldn’t have the passion to write. And, of course, my mom, who read this *cringe* and liked it *cringe*. Love you both. Thanks to my kids, who may never ever ever read any of my stories (especially Slade’s story)—Mommy loves you.

And last (BUT DEFINITELY NOT LEAST) … thanks to my black-belt/jiujitsu/MMA-encyclopedia/cheerleader/super-dad husband. I don’t know of any man as supportive as you are. You are truly one of a kind. Every single night for a year, I went to Starbucks while you manned the house. Your support and belief in me never faltered, even when my belief in myself did. I love you so much and hope you know that I feel blessed every day that you are who you are and that I’m lucky enough to be with you.

S
IDNEY
H
ALSTON
lives her life by one simple rule: “Just do it.” And that’s exactly what she did. At the age of thirty, having never written anything other than a legal brief, she picked up a pen for the first time to pursue her dream of becoming an author. That first stroke sealed the deal, and she fell in love with writing. Halston lives in South Florida with her husband and children.

Most people look forward to summer vacations: warm, sunny days filled with nothing but reading on the agenda. Every year, I can’t wait to lie on the beach, lounge by the pool, or relax at a picnic at the park—always with a good book in my hands. If you’re looking for some hot reads, Loveswept has some great ones this month. But I warn you—it’s going to be a fiery summer.

June brings two scorching reunion stories: Lea Griffith’s Loveswept debut,
Too Much
, an erotic romance where two lovers who have shared exquisite pain and unforgettable bliss find solace back in each other’s arms; and Serena Bell’s heartwarming
Hold On Tight
, about a young mother and a battle-scarred veteran who must decide if they can rekindle the sparks they once shared. Speaking of sparks, in Jamie Schmidt’s stylish and sexy book,
Heat
, a martial arts trainer introduces an ER doctor to a passion so intense she wants nothing more than to surrender to his touch. Then the temperature rises with the first book of Tina Leonard’s seductive new Hells Outlaws series,
Last of the Red-Hot Cowboys
, which brings passion hotter than the Texas sun. And if you’re looking for a classic romance, look no further than Iris Johansen’s steamy novel,
Wicked Jake Darcy
, where fate brings together a carefree beauty and a charismatic playboy—only to separate them all too soon.

“Slade Martin! Open the damn door.” An incessant knock vibrated through the house. Had he not heard the chirpy voice, he’d have thought it was his sister, Chrissy. She had a knack for pounding on doors. But this voice was familiar even if he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what he’d find on the other side: the wrath of a scorned woman.

Slade rolled off the uncomfortable single-size bed in his spare bedroom. He hoped that the knocking hadn’t awoken Jessica. She’d had a rough night last night and needed her sleep. It was her first night out of the hospital. But who was he kidding? The knocking could’ve woken up the dead. He fumbled for a pair of navy blue sweatpants that he’d thrown on the floor the previous night and slipped them on, followed by a white T-shirt. Leaving the room, he quickly peeked into his bedroom, where Jessica seemed to continue to sleep in his comfy king-size bed, unfazed by all the noise. He closed the door and padded downstairs quickly. The knocking and shrill voice needed to stop. He flung the door open to come face-to-face with a tiny blond woman, whose voice matched her body. Small, fiery, and annoying as all hell.
Charlene, Charlotte, Chanel?

“Slade,”
Chelsey
whined.

“What the hell,
Chantel
?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Chrissy and Jack walk across their lawn to his, Chrissy holding on to a leash with one hand, the other in a sling. And attached to the end of the superfluous leash was the bane of Slade’s existence: a five-pound Chihuahua that hated Slade. The feeling was mutual.

“Yo.” Jack tilted his head up at Slade in the universal guy-hello nod, and Chrissy waved with a smile as they approached. Drogo growled.

“Chastity.”

“What?” Slade asked as he looked back down at the woman.

“You said Chantel, and it’s Chastity. How could you not remember? We’ve been dating for months, you asshole!”

Chastity? Really?

“Go home, Chastity.”

Jack snorted. “Chastity? Yeah right,” he whispered. Chrissy slapped him across the chest.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Listen, you gotta stop with the knocking. What the hell time is it, anyway?” He ran his hands through his unruly hair as he yawned. His eyes skidded down to her tiny jean shorts, tight Bon Jovi T-shirt, and flip-flops.