Worth Forgiving (MMA Fighter 3) - Page 6/64

“I’m not sure yet. The bank is coming in to go through the books next week, so a couple of weeks at least.”

A cab pulls up at the curb. “I’ll be going out of town for a few days while you’re here. But I’m sure Lily will take good care of you.” The two men shake hands.

Jackson turns to me, a seductive smile warming me inside and out. He leans in to say goodnight as Joe opens the cab door and speaks to the driver. “I look forward to you taking good care of me,” he whispers and kisses my cheek. I climb inside the car before he can see the heat spreading across my face.

***

The next day when I come in, I scour the gym, trying not to make it obvious who I’m looking for. When my gaze finds the man I’m hoping to see again, he’s jumping rope at warp speed, but his eyes are locked on me already. Feeling flustered for being caught, I practically run back to the reception area. Throughout the day, I sneak a few glances at Jackson as he works out. A few times he catches me and smiles. Luckily, Caden doesn’t notice. The last thing I need is another scene in the gym.

Freshly showered after his workout, I’m grateful Caden is already gone when Mr. Beautiful stops at the front desk on his way out. His hair damp and a towel around his neck, he’s certainly a feast for the eyes. Although his body looks sufficiently trained, something about him doesn’t seem to fit with the guys that usually train at Ralley’s. He’s different, and it’s not just that he’s devoid of tattoos on his arms and scars on his face. Something in the way he speaks and carries himself sets him apart from the normal fighters I see.

“So, I have to admit, I thought you would be different than you are based on our emails over the last few months.” I say to Jackson, trying to ignore the effect that seeing his damp, freshly exercised body has on me. We’ve emailed back and forth a lot over the last few months. I provided reports he requested and answered questions about Ralley’s to help him put together the offering to attract investors. But our communications have been strictly professional. He was all business, nothing like the playful demeanor of the man before me.

“What did you think I would be like?” he asks, setting his bag on the floor.

“I don’t know. Just different. Older I guess.” I smile. “You’re much friendlier in person.”

“So my emails are old and unfriendly?” he teases.

“I didn’t say that. They just come off more formal. That’s probably why I thought you were older.”

“Well I hope you like the real thing better than what you imagined.”

I laugh. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. Anything else you’ve imagined about me that I can work on beating your expectation of?”

I flush. I’ve imagined more than I care to share, but I don’t want to let on that he’s been infiltrating my thoughts since I laid eyes on him yesterday. “Are you always such a flirt?” I tilt my head and ask coyly.

“This isn’t flirting,” he responds with a sexy grin.

“It’s not? Then what would you call it?”

His eyes glimmer. “Foreplay.”

I roll my eyes and laugh off the comment as playful. Although the heat in his eyes makes me think he really isn’t kidding. It makes my stomach flutter and my palms sweaty. Growing up surrounded by alpha males who speak their minds, it generally takes a lot for me to embarrass. Yet something about the way he looks at me when he speaks makes me feel like a teenage girl.

I try to force our conversation back to the gym. I’ve mixed business with pleasure enough lately, learning my lesson the hard way. “Well, how do you like our gym, Jackson?” I ask, trying hard to keep my eyes trained on his and not ogle the plethora of beauty south of his magnetic blue eyes. He’s cocky enough, I don’t need to give him anymore ammunition.

“I think I’m going to like it here.” His wry grin speaks volumes and it leaves me feeling like his statement has little to do with his actual training.

“People call me Jax, by the way.”

“Not Jackson?”

“My friends call me Jax.”

“So we’re going to be friends then?” I tease.

“I hope so.” His smile widens.

“I noticed you didn’t tell Caden to call you Jax yesterday.”

“Something tells me Caden and I aren’t going to be friends.” My new friend arches an eyebrow and grins a devilish grin. He slings his bag diagonally across his shoulder. “I have to run for a video conference call. You here tomorrow?”

“I’m here almost every day.”

“See you tomorrow then, Lily.” Jax smiles and walks out the door.

Chapter 3

Jax

My body aches after a good workout, but it’s a feeling I relish. No pain, no gain. The old mantra has a lot of truth to it. High on adrenaline, it’s the first time in more than six months that I feel like I’m going the right direction. Hell, it’s the first time, in a very long time, I feel like I have any direction. And damn if Lily isn’t the icing on the cake to a deal I was already thinking was going to work out perfectly for me.

If I had any doubts I was making the right choice buying these gyms, getting a look at her little body and the way her ni**les perked up when we touched just sealed the deal. You just never know what might throw a buyer over the edge when they’re teetering on a multi-million dollar purchase. I smile to myself wondering how many deals may actually have been sealed by a sexy woman.

Joe was adamant that the only type of investor he was looking for was a silent partner. I’d prefer a hand in managing the business right from the beginning, but the deal was too good for me to pass up, even without the opportunity to operate the company. But I figured once I formed a relationship with my new partner, I could open the door to taking on a less silent role. Now my mind is stuck thinking of a different type of role I’d like to take with Lily.

Women have been on the back burner in my private life lately. Desire sort of goes out the window when your life implodes all around you. The one bright spot I’ve been looking forward to has been closing the deal on Ralley’s Gyms. The fact that my prospective partner is smokin hot is a total damn bonus.

Still unable to shake the energy as night falls, I go for a run. Weaving in and out of pedestrians isn’t something I’m a stranger to, being from D.C., but the volume is vastly different in New York. Throngs of people still clutter the streets even though it’s after nine. Oddly, I don’t find it annoying. Instead I make it a challenge to maneuver through the chaos without breaking a stride.