Jessie

“We’ll send you the contract then, Fed Ex, tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Mr. Thompson.”

“You earned it. Glad to see an old fighting family back in the mix.”

Jessie hung up the phone. Whitey, Cowboy Devil, a few other fighters, and even Zeke Powell were all quiet, waiting to hear the offer. Coach Boggs and Barton were there too. They’d all helped him get there. Just like he’d helped some of the champions in the room along the way.

“I’m eighty goddamn years old. I don’t have all day. What’d he say?”

“I’m fighting for the 21C Middle Weight Title in three months.”

The place erupted in cheers and Jessie hit a few of the closest guys to him with high fives.

His grandpa wasn’t having it, though. He wanted details, so he pulled Jessie down to his level.

“They giving you Pablo Nova?” Nova was the current belt holder. He was undefeated, but no one liked him. He’d set himself up as the bad guy and had said he was too good to fight Jessie. Jessie knew different. He relished the idea of snagging that belt away from someone like Nova.

“Yep, Nova.” Whitey nodded.

“Good, good. We have work. A lot of work to break him down.”

“We can, Gramps. We will.”

“You’ll be ready.” Jessie’s shoulders were being pushed from one side then another as the guys congratulated him. It was hard to stay focused on Whitey.

“I know.”

“Is the money what I said?”

“It’s good.”

“Money isn’t everything, but it’s how you know they respect you. You earn respect with fighters in the ring. With guys like Meyer Thompson, business guys, it’s money. Period.”

“I hear you, Grandpa. I know. It’s not quite a million. But it’s close.”

“Jesus Christ on the Cross.” And then his Grandpa made the sign of the cross. This would be more money than anyone in the family had ever seen. But it was the tip of the iceberg. Jessie was sure he’d hook up with an endorsement or two. He knew the path because he’d seen it from his closest friends. But money wasn’t the motivator.

His grandpa instilled in him a desire to push his body and the virtue of expanding his limits. Grandpa taught him how to face fear with boldness.

Those were the lessons he’d learned from Whitey, not ones about money, or deals.

He was excited, his friends at the gym were excited, but he felt unsettled.

He knew why. It was that redheaded Irish girl. Every look she gave him, and the sound of her voice, were on replay in his brain.

“Congrats, Jessie!” He shook hands and bumped chests, and it was all good.

Except something was off-kilter. He should be thinking only of the path to winning that belt, but he was thinking of more. Of something he didn’t know he wanted before today.

As the party wound down, he helped clean up and get the gym back in shape. Fighters would arrive early in the morning. So would he. But he didn’t want to go home. He lived only a few blocks away in one of the redeveloped apartment buildings. It was nice. The thought of it was lonely, though. All of a sudden.

Jessie checked the lock on the back door. His grandpa didn’t own the place, but he was the head trainer.

The Great Wolves Gym was one of a dozen gyms owned by bikers. They managed the gyms, set up fights, and kept the places perfect training grounds for MMA contenders.

It seemed like a recipe for trouble, bikers and fighters, but it was the exact opposite.

The bikers let the fighters fight. The Great Wolves Motorcycle Clubs handled paperwork, marketing, events, and rent. Whitey handled coaching and staff. But more and more these days Jessie handled things his grandpa couldn’t.

Whitey had been mugged in this very gym once. Since then he’d slowed down a bit. Forgot things. It was Jessie’s mission to be sure the gym was buttoned up tight, so nothing like that happened again. He always double-checked the locks. And he always double checked Whitey, without Whitey knowing.

Jessie popped a head into the training room and thought again of his encounter with Ash, the flower delivery hottie. He was about to flick off the lights when he noticed it. A ball cap had fallen onto the floor under the training table. He reached down and picked it up and read the logo on the front.

He smiled. Now he had a reason to take a little drive.

O’Shea’s Flower Shop was two blocks away and actually on the way to his walkup apartment. The old Irish Town neighborhood was getting hipper and more expensive by the day. He knew his rent was going up. It would have been a worry, but not after today’s phone call with Meyer Thompson. He was going to have more money than he needed.

He just had to be sure to win. He knew how to do everything possible to make that happen. The title was as good as clinched. This little lady, however, was not so easy to figure out.

He arrived at the flower shop. It looked like it always had. He knew he’d been in here once or twice growing up, but it had been years.

Jessie looked in the window. The lights were out. It was closed, of course. Well, maybe he’d have to visit tomorrow.

Just as he was about to turn away a bit of movement caught his eye. There she was.

The redheaded beauty. He watched for a moment as she typed away on a keyboard. She was intently focused on the screen, and it glowed to light her face.

Damn, she was pretty, and not in any way fake either. And he couldn’t see a speck of makeup on her. This was the opposite of the groupies he’d been fucking around with these days.

Jessie didn’t have a type; he was equal opportunity hottie. But he started to amend that idea. Maybe he did have a type, and she was it. He just hadn’t seen anything like this flower girl before.

He was tempted to just watch, but the temptation to hear her talk was stronger. He knocked lightly on the window with his knuckle. She stood up and came over to the door. She unlocked a bolt.

“We’re closed . . .”

“You are, of course, but I have something you left.” He held up the ball cap with O’Shea’s Flower Shop printed on the front.

“Ah, darn it, thank you. It’s my only one! I thought I’d left it in the van.” Jessie stood in the doorway. There was an awkward tick of seconds. The cap had been a gift; the universe had given him a reason to come here. But now, all of a sudden, his usually smooth lines failed him.

“Do you always unlock the door when people knock after hours?” He realized she probably shouldn’t. A wave of worry washed over him. What was this sweet thing doing here, alone, at night? Anyone could try to get in.

“Only for gorilla-sized MMA fighters I just met.” She smiled at him. It was like an electric surge from her face to his heart. He felt another wave push the worry away. It was unfamiliar. New. She was having some kind of effect on him. It was potent, and he wanted to get her to smile again.

“As long as you’ve got good decision-making abilities then.”

“Well, you’re the first person who’s knocked on this door after hours, by the way. I haven’t developed a corporate policy on it.”

“Let me advise you, only open the door after hours for me, little Ash.”

“Got it.” She looked down.

“So, either I’m going to have to come up with a reason to order flowers every day, or you will have to agree to let me take you out. Or at least walk you to your car safely.”

“Goodness, that’s a lot of options.”

“All of them designed to get to know you better.” Jessie took a small step forward, a test, and Ash held her ground but lowered her head and looked at the floor. Her bold personality suddenly went a little shy. It was adorable.

“Well, I live here, so no need to walk me home.” She lifted her head to look up at him. Her eyes were stunning, sexy, and he detected a challenge in them.

“You have to eat.”

“I eat here, no time for long lunches, for crying out loud. I’ve got a business to run.” He was going to have to work for her.

“Fine, flowers it is.”

“You’re going to order flowers every day?”

“Yes, the fighters will appreciate fresh flowers in the gym. Next to the heavy bags, in the corners of the wrestling mats, it will be lovely.”

Ash laughed at that. Ha! He was getting somewhere.

“You’re full of bullshit, aren’t you?”

“A little, but I’m serious. Either you let me take you out, or I show up every day.”

“I have no interest in, uh, what was it you said, getting to know each other. I’ve got a business to run here and no time, like I said, to, uh, know anyone.”

A smile now played at the corner of her lip, but she was trying to be tough. Oh, this girl was going to be fun or infuriating. Probably both.

“Flowers it is.” He knew she was going to be a lot of work but all of a sudden cracking this code was something he relished.

“I’m interested in, uh, a dozen tulips for tomorrow.”

“Tulips?”

“Yes, they’re Cowboy Devil’s favorite, and he’s going to be thrilled.”

“Cowboy Devil? Quite the proper baptismal name I see. Ahck. Fine. I can have our delivery man bring them by in the morning.”

“You’re not the delivery guy?”

“Nope, today was special.”

“Well, then no delivery. I’ll see you here tomorrow to pick them up.”

“You are very . . .” He cut her protest off. Jessie Hoolihan could be just as stubborn as this little flower shop girl. He took another step forward, and they were less than an inch apart. He lowered his voice. He could be patient to a point, but Jessie Hoolihan was never subtle. Screw it. She’d know exactly what he wanted before he walked out.

“Yellow, be sure they’re yellow. And make sure to bolt this door. You never know what kind of gorilla-sized fighter will show up.” He looked her up and down. She was perfect in every single way, and dammit, he was going to have a hard time sleeping tonight. But that was it. She knew.

Jessie turned and walked out. The door shut behind him. He heard the lock turn, good.

Jessie planned his day for tomorrow, and the next, and the next. Great Wolves Gym was going to smell like a spring meadow for all he cared. He’d laid his cards on the table, anyway.

He was going to get Ash to smile at him again, laugh, and dammit he was going to kiss those pretty lips.

With the offer from the 21C and the new flower girl that had fallen into his life, Jessie Hoolihan appreciated that this had been a very good day.

Now aside from tulips, what other types of flowers were there? He’d look it up. Ash was going to be seeing a lot of him, and he was going to be seeing a lot of flowers.