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DS Fight Club Box Set (Volumes 0-3)
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From The Author
What’s Next?
If anyone told me even three years ago that I was going to be writing a romances, much less a sports romance series, I would have said that they had lost their damn minds. But you know, here I am, and here you are, reading a letter at the end of my first official sports romance. (I say official because Sweet Relief, although technically a part of the Second Chance Neighbors series, is really DS Fight Club 0.)
The DS Fight Club series is not about fighting, per se, but about fighters: their backgrounds, their relationships, their emotions. What makes these guys (and girls) tick? What in the world would compel someone to make a living of getting kicked in the liver?
You’re not going to see over-the-top violence of Cage Matches to the DEATH (imagine echoes here) in the DS Fight Club books. The fighters of DS Fight Club aren’t super-aggro Alpha young bucks; they’re guys ranging from their mid-forties down to their late twenties. Their bodies are breaking down. Maybe they’re just tired of getting kicked in the liver. They’ve reached the pinnacle of their careers and there is nowhere else to go but down. But, regardless of their age or their physical condition, they are all asking: What’s next?
And this is it. These are the next chapters in these fighters’ stories, and I hope you enjoy them.
Josie
DS Fight Club Box Set (volumes 0-3)
Fighter
Kicker
Trainer
Striker
Works by Josie Kerr
About the Author
fighter
A DS Fight Club Novel
Josie Kerr
This is a work of fiction and does not in any way advocate irresponsible behavior. This book contains content that is not suitable for readers 17 and under. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
Any resemblance to actual things, events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, products, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and ownership of any location names or products mentioned in this book. The author received no compensation for any mention of said trademark.
Cover image:
Stock photography licensed from BigStock Images
Copyright © 2016 Josie Kerr
Published by Hot Words and Cold Coffee, LLC
All rights reserved.
Digital Edition
To anyone who has ever needed a new start
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Epilogue
Colin & Bailey’s Playlist
Prologue
Mid-December
Midtown - Atlanta, Georgia
Bailey Jenkins didn’t like being late, even if it was considered fashionable, so she couldn’t help rolling her eyes as her boyfriend helped himself to yet another bottle from the minibar. He could be partaking of the open bar downstairs, but no, he insisted on milking this hotel room for all it was worth.
“Shouldn’t we get going, Tripp? The party started an hour ago.”
Tripp waved her off with a frown. “We still have plenty of time. Dad won’t be making his speech for another half hour and that’s something that I have no intention of standing through yet again. So just relax, have a drink, and we’ll head down there in a bit.”
“I don’t want to miss seeing Em. I’m not sure she’ll stay until the end since she’s only technically a contractor now.” Bailey hadn’t even talked to her friend in weeks and Bailey liked Tripp a lot, he wasn’t someone who she could gossip with over lunch or trade book recommendations.
“What is it about Em? Everybody is so excited about her being at the party. It’s not like she’s cured cancer or anything.”
“Wow, you’re in a great mood tonight. I thought you two made up at least enough to be able to work together for the next few weeks?”
Bailey thought she saw something flicker in his eyes for a moment. “Yeah, we’re fine. I’m just ready to get this Williams project put to bed.”
Tripp’s phone buzzed and he checked his message, rolled his eyes, and got another package of nuts and another tiny bottle from the small refrigerator. Bailey sighed. I might as well have a seat, then, she thought, so she plopped down on the bed.
Tripp finished his fourth drink in a swallow and said, “Okay, baby. Let’s go.”
Finally!
He whistled a jaunty tune as they walked down the hallway, a spring in his step.
Jeez, and they say women are moody. My worst PMS day doesn’t have a thing on Tripp Holbrook’s mood swings.
They got the grand ballroom right as Ed, Tripp’s father, was finishing his speech. Just as Bailey spied Em across the room, Tripp pulled her to his side and insisted they visit the buffet before socializing.
Bailey huffed, but she was really hungry. After all, she hadn’t been partaking of the mini bar all evening like Tripp had. She just couldn’t bring herself to spend ten dollars for a small package of nuts, no matter who was paying.
Bailey was chatting with some coworkers at the buffet table while she nibbled on a selection of appetizers when suddenly Tripp took the plate from her and set it on a table, and then pulled her by her hand toward the raised platform stage.
“Tripp, what are you doing?” Bailey hissed through her tense smile.
Tripp didn’t respond but just pulled her up beside him and grabbed a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement. Tonight, I would like to tell the world that I am going to marry the love of my life,” Tripp said. “Darling, come here.”
Bailey didn’t normally curse, but the only phrase that popped into her head was one of Em’s favorites: what the actual fuck?
Tripp held out his hand.
Give me your hand, his eyes said even as his smile grew tense at Bailey’s hesitation.
She tentatively reached for his hand, and he grabbed hers and put it to his lips amid a smattering of applause.
Bailey’s eyes wandered over the crowd and the only thing she saw was Em’s pretty face turning stone cold and then the back of her head as she spun around and stormed out of the ballroom.
“So you’re
going to pout about asking you to marry me?” Tripp said with a scoff.
“Uh, no, Tripp. You didn’t ask me to marry you. You announced that I was going to marry you before you asked me. There’s a difference.”
“Bailey, honey, come here. Come here, sweet pea,” Tripp said. Bailey sat with him on the couch, but he could tell she was still unhappy and surprisingly tense. Tripp put his arm around her and squeezed her to his side and she relaxed a bit.
“Bailey, how long have I known you?”
“Well, I started working here about six years ago, so about that long. But we just started seeing each other a few months ago.”
For Pete’s sakes, we haven’t even slept together.
“But honey, I know you. And when it’s right, it’s right. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been dating. That’s why I never asked Em to marry me. I knew it just wasn’t right.”
“Tripp, did you see the look on her face? You didn’t warn her about this, did you?”
“No, Bailey, I didn’t, but she doesn’t matter. Em and I aren’t dating anymore, and we hadn’t had a romantic relationship in a long time, even before she bailed on the Holbrook Firm and took a job with that start-up guy. I told you that we were just roommates for the last three years that we lived together.”
“But, her face, Tripp. I’ve never seen her look like that.”
Tripp kissed Bailey’s forehead. “Sweetie, Em’s a big girl. She’ll cry in her whiskey or whatever it is she’s drinking these days and then she’ll be fine.”
“I hope so. She was such a good friend to me when no one else was. I’d hate to lose that friendship.”
Tripp mentally rolled his eyes. God, she’s so fucking earnest and sweet.
“So you really want to marry me?” Bailey asked in a tentative voice.
Tripp looked at Bailey. Did he want to marry her? Sure, why not. With those huge grey eyes and curly strawberry-blonde hair, she looked like a little doll. And best of all, she wasn’t the least bit mouthy. She would be the perfect little subservient wife, one that would let him make the decisions and, if her reaction to his actions tonight was any indication, look past bad behavior and indiscretions. Yeah, sure.
“Of course, I want to marry you, Bailey.” Maybe someday.
Chicago, Illinois
Colin Carmichael was generally a pretty easy going guy, but there were two things he absolutely didn’t like: one was being the center of attention, and the other was drunken crowds. So being the guest of honor at the hottest nightclub in Chicago was right there at the top of list of places that he would really rather not be.
“Gordo, you gotta loosen up.”
Colin shot a withering look at his trainer. Junior Maldonado was the kind of guy who made friends just walking through the club and he was happy to act as a gregarious counterbalance to Colin’s gruff laconism. He knew that Colin put up with the after-parties only because it kept the sponsors happy.
Colin cracked his neck. “How long do you think I’m expected to stay?”
“Uh, in case you forgot, this whole shindig is in celebration of your win tonight. You need to stay and mingle for a few hours at least.” Junior looked at his friend and cocked his head. “Though I suppose no one would bat an eye if you disappeared with a lady friend for a while, as long as you made an appearance at the end of the night.”
“That’s even worse. You know no one would believe that I was hooking up with someone.”
Junior exhaled a loud breath. That was true. Everyone knew that Colin, or Bren, as he was known by most of the world, was anything but a player.
“Besides, Andrea’s not even here. She had to work this weekend.”
It was Junior’s turn to give a withering look.
“That woman is bad news, C. I don’t trust her one bit.”
“Well, I told her I needed a break. I said that I wasn’t going to have time to pay attention to her the way she’s used to because of the upcoming fight with Pierce.”
“And that’s right. Andrea’s way too high-maintenance to deal with now. You don’t need the distraction of the drama that she’s going to cause when she realizes that she’s really not going to be the center of attention.”
Colin knew this was the case and that he needed more than just a break from Andrea. The fact that she was living in his apartment complicated matters, but knew that she didn’t make a lot of money and he didn’t want to leave her in a bad situation like she was in before.
“She still staying with you?” Junior asked. “You know my opinion on that. She has a job now; she should get her own damn apartment.”
“I know, Junior. I know.”
Junior shook his head at Colin. “You know, for a heavyweight fighter, you sure are a wimp sometimes.” He clapped Colin on the back. “You want another tonic water?”
Colin grinned at him. “You know, get me a cranberry juice. I’ll be back. I gotta visit the men’s.”
“Ooh, watch out people, ‘Ice Cold’ is going crazy and drinking something other than water!” Junior laughed and headed to the bar.
Colin made his way to the restroom, stopping along the way to shake hands and trade congratulatory fist bumps with fans and other people. By the time he finally got the toilets, he really had to go.
He tried to ignore the sounds of a couple having sex in the stall as he took care of his business. Good grief. There are 26 floors of hotel rooms right below us, people. Colin shook his head as he hurriedly zipped up his fly and washed his hands. There was no way that he wanted to be there when the happy couple came out of that stall.
A very drunk teammate of Colin’s stumbled into the restroom just as Colin finished drying his hands.
“Heeeeeeey, dude! Awesome fight tonight!”
“Thanks, man,” Colin said, trying to get out of the restroom.
Unfortunately, Drunky was another heavyweight fighter and had grabbed onto Colin’s shirt and was describing Colin’s fight blow-by-blow. I know, dude, I was there. Colin grinned and tried to pry his fingers loose to no avail. Jesus, I don’t want to hang out in the can.
Drunky’s retelling of the final moments of the fight was interrupted by the amorous couple stumbling out of the stall into the bathroom. Drunky gave a smiling thumbs-up to the guy but his grin disappeared when the other half of the couple emerged from the stall.
“Oh, fuck.” Drunky’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
Colin swiveled his head around and saw the smirking face Damon Pierce, the man most likely to be Colin’s next opponent, and the surprised face of Andrea, who was supposed to be covering a shift back in Wisconsin.
“Bren! Oh my God! I didn’t...”
“Think I would come to my celebration? Hmm?” Colin shook his head and laughed. “Oh man.”
Pierce’s lip curled up and he hooked his hand possessively around Andrea’s waist. “Carmichael.”
“You know what, Pierce? I’m not even mad. You just did me a huge fucking favor. Andrea, all your shit will be at the restaurant tomorrow afternoon. I guess it’s a good thing that you didn’t get rid of that storage unit.”
“Bren, baby, I...” Andrea began, but Colin didn’t hear her because he had already walked out the door.
Chapter One
New Year’s Eve, one year later
Atlanta
Bailey eyed the clock and fully expected the phone to ring any minute. Rory Doyle, her new-ish employer, had insisted that she join him and a few other people in ringing in the New Year at his apartment. And it wasn’t like she didn’t want to go. She liked Rory, and Rory’s NotGirlfriend, Ashley, and of course, Em, her closest friend. But this small party promised a lot of pressure and people for a woman who had spent the majority of her 29 years isolated and friendless, even if none of her friends meant to make her uncomfortable.
The phone rang and Bailey grinned in spite of herself when she looked at the Caller ID.
“I’m not backing out. I just lost
track of time. Let me freshen up and I promise I’ll be over before the pre-fight commentary’s over,” Bailey said as soon as she picked up the phone.
“Honey, you don’t need to worry about what you look like. Just come over. You sure you don’t want me to call you a cab? I don’t feel good with you on the road with all the drunks.” Em’s voice faded as she fussed at someone in the background. “Good grief, Rory. You should have set that up a week ago. Did you even look at the instructions?” Em’s voice came back into focus. “Sorry about that. Our boss, the technical genius, is having a fit because he can’t get the stereo hooked up to the television.”
Bailey laughed. “Tell him to calm down and I’ll look at it when I get over there.”
“Oh good,” Em said, her voice full of relief. “I was hoping you’d say that. You fixed all the so-called faulty video conference equipment with just a few switched wires, and if I were a betting woman, I’d wager that it’s the same situation over here.”
Bailey laughed again. “Let me get going, and I’ll be over there in just a bit, okay?”
“Okay, sugar. We’ll see you shortly.” Right before Bailey hung up, she could hear Em saying, “Yes, Rory, she’s coming over, so quit your bitching.”
Bailey flipped through the clothes in her closet, looking for something somewhat festive yet low-key. She contemplated a glittery cardigan that she had worn last year.
Last year.
Last year was a doozy, starting with the unexpected engagement announcement and ending with her erstwhile-fiancée’s epic come-undone in the apartment of his ex-girlfriend, a flame-out that resulted in a lot of physical and emotional injuries on just about everyone’s part.
She rubbed the faux-rhinestone buttons with her fingers. She loved this sweater, even if it was tainted with memories from last New Year’s Eve. The night had started well, with Tripp actually complimenting her outfit, and dinner and dancing like a proper engaged couple, but when they got to the hotel room, it soured.