Below the Belt

“Jimmy…” Ray said, standing and dropping a hand onto her shoulder.

She shook him off, her gaze still pinned to Cooper. She was furious with him. He took in all the telltale signs—the slight flush of color in her cheeks, the tension in her body, the way she’d taken up a classic defensive stance, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet, her knees slightly flexed.

Then he got it—she was the wanna-be fighter Ray had been pitching to him.

“You want to explain to me why boxing is only for men?” she asked, ignoring Ray’s attempts to mollify her.

“Because people get hurt. Because it takes discipline and commitment. Because it’s not easy,” Cooper said, holding her gaze. “You need any more?”

Her chin came up. With the sun shining on her anger-hardened face, she looked like an Amazonian warrior woman, ready to take on any and all comers. He flashed to a thought of what she’d be like in bed. Fiery, he bet, fighting for supremacy every inch of the way.

“What makes you think I’m any less committed than Ray? Or you? What makes you think that women can’t handle being hurt? Ever heard of childbirth?”

She was getting worked up, her breasts rising and falling rapidly now as her temper got the better of her. Man, she was a handful. And hot. Damned hot.

“Thanks for bringing up my next point. Male fighters don’t get pregnant and throw away their careers just when they’re hitting their strides,” Cooper said.

She gave him a scathing look, starting at his handmade Italian shoes, trailing up his silk-and-wool clad legs, up his torso until she made eye contact with him again.

“I can only imagine what kind of inadequacy a big man like you must be hiding if he can’t handle the idea of a woman who can hold her own,” she said.

That surprised a crack of laughter out of him. He settled into his chair a little more and crossed his arms behind his head—mostly because he suspected it would piss her off.

“Believe me, baby, this big man’s not hiding any inadequacies. You’re welcome to take a look, if you like,” he said suggestively.

She actually took a step forward, the muscles in her jaw clenching, and Ray moved to intervene.

“Jimmy. Cool down. Go inside and take a breather. I’ll talk to Cooper,” he said.

“I’m not going to change my mind, Ray,” Cooper said, suddenly serious. “If you coming to me is tied to taking on your friend, then we don’t have a deal. I’m not interested in women fighters.”

“As if I’d want you as my trainer after hearing all this bullshit,” Jimmy fired the words at him. “I can’t believe I thought there was a brain behind all that beautiful boxing. I guess it must be dumb luck that you can even chew gum and walk down the street at the same time.”

She spun on her heel, striding toward the house without a backward glance.

Both Cooper and Ray stared after her, watching the unconscious animal grace of her movements. Once she was out of sight, Ray let his breath hiss out between his teeth and ran a hand over his head.

“That went well,” he said.

Cooper waited for the other man to meet his eye. “I meant what I said. Anything else we can talk on, but Jimmy is not, and will never be, a part of our deal. Okay?”

“I hear you,” Ray said. “And for the record, I’m sorry that got so…out of control. Jimmy’s kind of intense. Driven, if you know what I mean.”

“I thought she was your maid,”

Ray laughed, surprised. Then he shook his head. “Don’t let her hear you saying that. She took time off work to come over and meet you.”

“What kind of name is Jimmy for a girl, anyway?” Cooper asked. Not because he was really interested. He was just…curious. Which was definitely not the same thing.

“It’s really Jamie, but Jimmy is a childhood nickname that stuck.”

Cooper made an intuitive leap. “You’re seeing her?”

Ray shook his head. “Years ago. Jimmy doesn’t like to be pinned down.”

Cooper got the distinct feeling that Ray wasn’t too happy about that. He could see where the other man was coming from—even a few seconds in her company had been enough to tell him that Jamie wasn’t the kind of woman a guy walked away from easily.

“So, am I calling my lawyer and getting him to draft a contract?” Cooper asked.

Ray’s glance strayed to the house again. “I need to think about it. Can I call you tonight?”

Cooper frowned. Ray obviously felt a strong loyalty toward this Jamie woman if he was prepared to rethink a deal that had been as good as done. There wasn’t anything Cooper could do about that, however—no way, no how was he taking on a woman fighter. He was building his gym, his reputation, and he wanted to win. Women’s boxing wasn’t going to achieve any of those goals for him, and he refused to join the ranks of hasbeen fighters who couldn’t cut it outside of the ring.

“You know my number,” he said, standing.

They were both silent as Ray led him through the house. Cooper kept an eye out for Jamie. There was an intensity to her, a focus…And, of course, there was that hot body. But there was no sign of her.

He paused on the doorstep to offer Ray his hand.

“I’ll hear from you tonight,” he said firmly.

“For sure,” Ray said.

Walking down the path to his car, Cooper reflected that if Jamie and her fighting ambitions hadn’t been inserted into the deal, he’d probably be walking away with his first fighter in his pocket right now. He swore under his breath, more and more pissed off as he thought about it.

Damn it, he needed Ray. He was young, full of promise, the perfect cornerstone for the stable Cooper wanted to build.

Some sixth sense made him glance over his shoulder before he stepped into the street. A curtain twitched in one of the front windows and someone stepped out of sight. She was probably wishing she’d slugged him one. Hell, if Ray hadn’t intervened, she might even have tried.

Cooper laughed. Even though he was feeling royally pissed that her presence had soured his deal. She had balls, he’d give her that. Big, hairy ones.

JAMIE’S HANDS flexed as she watched Cooper Fitzgerald stride down the front path and into the street. He walked slowly and deliberately, head up. An advertisement for arrogance.

“Jerk-off,” she said.

“What happened to ‘it has to be Cooper Fitzgerald’?” Ray asked.

Jamie turned around. She shrugged casually. She’d seen so many of Cooper’s fights, read so many interviews with him, she’d had one hell of a preconceived idea about what he would be like. More fool her. He might come across as witty, charming and intelligent in the media, but in the flesh the guy was just another garden-variety knuckle-dragger who saw women as living, breathing amusement parks for his genitals.

She’d known enough of them in her time, thank you very much. Hell, she’d slept with a bunch of ‘em, so she definitely knew what she was talking about. Why she’d thought this guy was going to be any different from the rest of the species she had no idea.

It’s because you’ve always been dumb about guys, a little voice whispered in her ear. It was true, too—her bad judgment where men were concerned was a matter of historical record.

“I made a mistake. I thought he was something he wasn’t,” Jamie said, turning away from the window. “Grandpa wanted Godfrey. I guess we’ll knock on his door next.”

Ray cocked his head to one side, studying her. “Maybe you ought to take this as a sign, quit before you ruin that gorgeous face of yours,” he said.

Jamie made an impatient noise. “I thought you said you were going to help me.”