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Fighting for Honor – Worth the Fight
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BOOK FIVE IN THE WORTH THE FIGHT SERIES OF STANDALONES!
Five minutes with the beast off its leash and three guys were sprawled and bloody on the floor of my parents’ bar. Next thing I know, I’m a viral sensation with a professional fighting contract.
But even as I landed each punch, all I could see was her face. All I could think about was her kiss.
One look, and the brunette with the inquisitive eyes and drool-worthy curves had my world turned upside down. I’ll never fight for pride. Only for the win. Only for family. For honor.
And now, for Maggie.
Author’s Note: This MMA romance will knock you off your feet. He’s alpha, obsessed and has finally found the one thing worth fighting for. As always, you can expect safe, love at the speed of light, totally over the top romance. So it’s time to take off the gloves and melt into this filthy fight that will have you rooting for the champ—and a happily ever after.
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“IF YOU SAY ONE MORE fucking word to my mother…” My jaw pops as I clench my teeth, a low growl tipping each word. “Just…fuck, man, don’t make me do this.”
Blood and rage rush in my ears as I ball my fists, eyes darting to my mother, who’s nervously watching the three drunk assholes from behind the bar. One of whom just called her a bitch.
Wrong. Fucking. Move.
It’s Friday night, the bar is packed, and it’s just me and my mom tonight. After my father worked until four AM last night closing up, he was so tired he fell on the steps going up to the front door of their house, an old Victorian two-story—their dream house—which he and my mom bought a few years ago to fix up after living above the bar for the last fifteen.
Unfortunately, funds have been limited and the fixing up part hasn’t made much progress. They used up all their savings buying the place and the bar’s income has been dwindling every year.
As for me, I’m still living right here, but not for long. Next week, I’m heading to Thousand Oaks, California. I got a job offer I couldn’t refuse, working as an account rep for a private security company that specializes in protecting the elite in the tech industry.
I got my degree in criminal justice, with a minor in information technology, from the local college while still working the bar with Mom and Dad, and combine that with my training in martial arts…let’s just say they’ve offered me more money than the bar makes in five years.
My goal is to get out there, work hard, build my resume, and eventually start my own gig. That is, after I help my parents retire, because this bar life is getting old—and so are they.
There’s nothing here in Plainsville for me except Mom and Dad, so starting over is no big deal.I’ve been a loner since I was a kid. Maybe it being the one that was bullied most of my childhood. Not sure. But making connections has never been my strong suit. Working in a bar hasn’t helped. Nearly every week it’s some dust up with family, husbands, wives…
Couples come in, they drink too much. This one’s looking at that one too much. Finding their significant other cheating on them…it’s constant and tiring. Gotta say, I’m a little jaded when it comes to the romance department.
When Dad fell last night, he twisted his ankle and got a knot on his head. Mom insisted on taking him to the ER, so they were there most of the morning. He got the all clear—more his pride injured than anything—but Mom threatened him with painful death, telling him he was staying home, feet up, the TV to himself, Advil on hand.
So here we are. Just the two of us. And the place is heaving.
Fridays can be busy, but not normally this busy. Some bus, on its way back to Boston from some blog writers, social media news conference type deal, decided to stop in the great, nowhere town of Plainsville, Massachusetts, so the fifty or so passengers could whet their whistle.
The crowd forced most of the regulars out for the night. The locals like it quiet in here so they can tell the same stories to each other for the thousandth time as me and my mom smile through gritted teeth.
Normally we’d have Dino on hand. He’s the closest person to me, besides my parents, and works with us a few days and nights a week, mostly serving but also playing bouncer on the rare occasion it’s necessary, because everyone knows it’s better to have Dino dealing with your sorry ass than me.
But Dino booked tonight off weeks ago to go to some game, so it’s just me.
“She won’t serve me.” Asshole number one, with a missing earlobe on his right side, jabs a finger toward my mom standing under the old blinking Stroh’s sign, but I snap my fingers to bring his attention back to me.
“Hey, look at me, not at her. That’s exactly right. Nobody is going to serve you. Don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.” He sniffs and laughs, and heat courses through me as I feel the switch ready to flip. “Please, don’t make me fucking do this.”
That plea is genuine, but I don’t think they realize what is about to happen here. The three of them just look at each other with that arrogance and bravado that only comes from the bottle.
Assholes and fights happen when your family owns a bar. I’m used to it. But tonight? There’s another factor making this situation infinitely more difficult.
See, when the tour bus dropped off, I was in the back, stacking the cooler, totally unaware that we’d just been invaded by a horde of thirsty travelers. When I came out and scanned the room, my first thought was to help get Mom out of the weeds with me behind the bar and her taking orders at tables. Then my gaze hit the corner, two girls sitting at a table minding their own business, and everything around me disappeared.