Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme) (28 page)

A fighter never wanted a decision to go to the judges. Tommy wanted an outright win, which meant he

had five more minutes either to knock Tate out or submit him.

He was pretty damn positive Tate was thinking the exact same thing.

They exploded toward each other.

Two minutes in, Tommy’s wound reopened in an exchange, as did Tate’s. Blood flowed down both

their faces and over their chests as Tommy pushed the other fighter back against the ropes. He grabbed the

back of Tate’s head and yanked it down as he raised his leg high. Knee connected with nose, and Tate’s

body slumped to the ground.

Tommy went down to cover him, intending to deliver a few more punches to seal the knockout, as he

would in any other fight, but saw that Tate was out cold, and backed off.

Mike hurried into the ring and bent over Tate. His eyes had opened and he was staring straight ahead in

an unfocused sort of way. Tommy watched as the team crowded around Tate, remembering the time his

team had done the same to him, when he’d lost his belt.

He knew exactly how Tate felt right now: the confusion, trying to make sense of the questions being

yelled at him, trying to answer them back as he cleared his rattled head. When Mike and another fighter

helped Tate to his feet, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief at the clear eyes that looked back at him.

Tate shook them off. Popping his guard out of his mouth, he stepped up to Tommy and hugged him.

When Tate leaned back, he said, “You’re going to fuck Ricky Moon up bad.”

At the mention of the man who had laid Tommy on the canvas and taken his title, he frowned. “What

are you talking about?”

Giving a pained chuckle as he patted Tommy on the shoulder, Tate only shook his head. Mike joined

them, pride and excitement in the huge grin on his face. “I think you just earned yourself a fight, son.”

What the hell was going on? “What do you mean?”

Mike jerked his head toward the back of the gym. Tommy looked over his shoulder and followed the

direction of the nod. Standing with his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread apart, nary an emotion on

his face, was Ethan Porter—the president of CMC.

All Tommy could do was stand and stare at the man. When he finally found his tongue, he asked, “Did

you know he was going to be here?”

“Yeah, we had a meeting scheduled for this morning. I convinced him to stay and observe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you thinking about him. I wanted him to see
you
.”

Tommy guessed he could understand that logic. If he’d known he was fighting in front of the man

who’d banned him from the cage, his focus would’ve been shot to hell.

“Go get cleaned up and meet me in the office.”

Tommy went to the locker room and cringed at his reflection. His eyebrow was split open. Purple was

already staining the skin under the eye, promising a pretty impressive shiner come tomorrow. A bruise was

forming on his jaw. He looked as if he’d just come out of the cage. And even though the mesh wiring

hadn’t been around him, he figured he had.

He’d just fought the most important fight of his career, and hadn’t even known it.

An assistant taped up his eye. After a quick shower, he yanked on his clothes and headed for the office.

Mike sat behind his desk and Ethan sat in a chair in front of it. Tommy took the other seat. The tension in

the room was thick. And only got thicker as Ethan sat there staring at him without saying a word.

Mike cleared his throat. “So, Ethan has a proposition for you.”

Tommy lifted a brow. “Okay.”

Ethan shifted in his seat. The muscular older man with graying brown hair made a sucking sound with

his teeth. “Before we get to that, I guess we need to discuss the most pressing issue.”

Tommy swallowed. Was his past going to ruin things for him again? Of all the people who had reason

to hate him, this man had the most.

“I owe you an apology.”

That was the last thing Tommy had expected. “An apology?”

“On behalf of my son.” He leaned back, and Tommy noticed that the man looked ten years older than

his fifty-four years. “As a father, you try the best you can to instill morals into your children. I guess I did

an okay job with two of mine, since they are functioning adults contributing to society. But my youngest…”

He tsked. “I was always making excuses for that boy, since he was the one most affected during the

divorce. I let him run wild, feeling like he was entitled to some rebellion, seeing the way his mother and I

had fought over him. I didn’t know how out of control he’d gotten, though.

“I should have come to you earlier,” Ethan continued, “but honestly, I’m still trying to figure out how to

handle the situation.” He made a noise of self-derision. “I’m the man who brought MMA into the

mainstream, made it popular. I’m able to see a potential star in one fight, but I couldn’t see that my own son

needed help. Did you know he was doing drugs?”

“No. I knew he was drinking a lot. Not drugs, though.”

“Heroin. He’s in rehab right now.” Ethan shook his head. “Still hard to believe. Signs were all there,

though. I just refused to see them, even after you hit him. I know I was pissed about the fight before that,

but I
am
sorry for how I treated you, especially after I learned he threatened to hurt Julie.”

Angry bile rose in Tommy’s throat at the remembered threats. “No one threatens to touch her, Ethan.”

He raised his hand. “I get it. You’ve always been protective of that woman. And the connection you two

have is special. I would have flipped, too, in your shoes. Can we put this shit behind us and move on?”

A huge weight lifted from Tommy’s shoulders. “I’d like nothing more.”

Ethan nodded. “All right, then, I have a proposition for you. Chris Dolven is the number one contender

for the belt. He was slotted to fight Ricky Moon in four weeks. Unfortunately, he injured his shoulder

during training, and the doctors won’t give him clearance to fight. So we need a substitute. My intention

was to give the fight to Tate, but you can thank your coach here for suggesting I watch you before making

the decision—”

“That’s not exactly what I said,” Mike interrupted. He looked at Tommy. “You know I don’t take sides

with my guys, Tommy, but when Ethan called last week, I saw an opportunity to get you back in the cage.

If Tate would’ve won, he’d be the one we’d be talking to right now.”

Ringing sounded in Tommy’s ears as the coach’s words slowly sank in. He held up his hands. “Wait.

Are you saying you’re giving me a chance to win back my
title
?”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Mike confirmed.

He frowned. “You mean I just stole Tate’s chance at the title?”

“You didn’t steal anything. You won it. Tate knew the score.”

You’re going to fuck Ricky Moon up bad.

Tate must have been aware of what was going on and didn’t hold any grudges at the loss.

It still didn’t sit well with Tommy. “You should’ve told me.”

“I thought about it, honestly. Tate was the one who suggested I didn’t. He wanted a fair fight, and he

didn’t think it would be if half your concentration was on Ethan. In the end, I agreed with his reasoning.

You needed to be completely focused.”

“So what do you say?” Ethan asked him. “Can you be ready to fight for the belt in four weeks?”

Say?
He couldn’t even process it. A fight for the belt in four short weeks?

Not that something like this was unheard of. Injuries did happen in training, and fighters were asked to

fill in on very short notice. But was he ready for a fight that big? So soon?

“Tommy?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Just trying to wrap my mind around it.”

“I know it’s short notice,” Mike said. “But you’ll be ready.”

“Yeah, of course, I’d be stupid to pass it up.”

And he would be. But this meant his available time was about to tighten up even more. How was he

supposed to be good boyfriend material if he was training all day and never around? He’d have to get

creative. Make every moment he spent with Julie count.

Make sure she knew she was just as important to him as his career.

…

Tommy had made love to her last night. Not sex. Love.

Smiling, Julie opened the front door and stepped inside. As she shut it, she tossed her purse on the

couch and went into the kitchen to feed the dogs and pour a glass of wine. He’d also kissed her sweetly this

morning and told her to have a good day at work before she’d left.

Was it possible that she and Tommy could actually work as a couple? The idea thrilled her and made all

the wants and desires she’d kept padlocked away burst forward. She tamped them back but didn’t

completely restrain them as she always had in the past, not wanting to totally close herself off from him.

She’d spent so many years protecting herself, believing Tommy could never see her as anything more

than a friend, and now when he finally did, she was still pretty convinced he’d never see her as more than a

bed partner. Someone to have sex with, nothing more. Tommy had made that crystal clear.

But last night he’d made love to her. Almost certainly for the first time in his life, he’d truly made love.

And it had been with her.

That said something. Didn’t it?

If he were willing to change, she couldn’t let her past hurts and fears keep her from doing the same. At

least about that part.

And as for the boyfriend stuff, Melody was right—he was only in training right now. There was no

certainty he would ever fight in the cage again. Even if there were, it would be months, maybe a year down

the road. And by then they’d either have broken up or would be in a stable relationship, not brand new, still

trying to find their footing as they transitioned from best friends, to lovers, to a steady couple.

She filled the dog’s bowls with food and a glass with wine, and was walking into the living room just as

Tommy came through the front door. Clamping her hands to her mouth in horror, she let go of the glass of

wine and it shattered on the floor, sending red liquid all over her slacks. Tommy dropped the bouquet of

red roses in his hand and hurried to her side, guiding her around the crimson puddle on the hardwood

floor.

She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his battered face. His left eye was all but swollen shut, with a

dark, purple bruise under it. The skin along his jaw was also discolored. “W-What happened to you?

You’ve never looked like that from a training session. Did you get mugged, or—”

Tommy grabbed the flowers off the floor and handed them to her. “I got these for you.”

She blinked and took them, trepidation flowing through her. “Thank you. But…what are they for?”

“Just because.”

“Just because?”

Tommy didn’t “just because” anything. Good God, had he gotten into a brawl already, and the flowers

were a don’t-get-pissed bribe?

“I was thinking of you and bought them. Didn’t I get it right?” He scratched the back of his head, his

face twisting in confusion.

Oh. My. God.
This wasn’t an apology gift; he was trying to be sweet. Gathering the roses in her arms,

she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

A goofy smile came to his face and his chest puffed up. “What do you say we take the dogs for a walk

around the neighborhood before we eat dinner?”

Roses, and now a walk? What had gotten into him? Normally he rushed in and took her straight to bed.

“All right. A walk sounds nice. You can explain your face on the way.”

While she changed clothes and put on tennis shoes, Tommy leashed the dogs.

They stepped outside, and Tommy reached over to entwine his fingers with hers. Biting her bottom lip,

she glanced down at their joined hands as they made their way across the yard to the sidewalk. His thumb

lazily caressed the inside of her palm, causing tingles to spread low in her belly.

This was why he’d wanted to take a walk. He wanted to hold her hand. The absolute sweetness of his

desire made tears sting her eyes. Oh, he was going to make her into such a sap.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. And she realized something. She was still aware of Tommy,

overwhelmingly so, but it wasn’t uncomfortable like it used to be. It was very comfortable, almost calming.

As though taking this leisurely walk, holding this man’s hand, was exactly how she was supposed to

unwind from her hectic day at the clinic.

He was her peace and her calm.

She laid her head on his biceps and he stopped to kiss the top of her head, as he’d done so many times

in the past. But there was a new intimacy to it now. An overwhelming tenderness.

In that one gesture, he toppled twenty-three years of her self-preservation.

And she fell completely, totally, absolutely in love with Tommy Sparks.

Letting the dogs stop to sniff and mark every telephone pole they passed, she’d counted more than a

dozen before she finally couldn’t stand it any longer. She looked up at him and asked, “So, why do you

look like you went five rounds?”