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When Amelia walked into the room with Brody, Waylon smiled. He walked over toward her, took her hand, and brought her fingers up to his lips. He kissed each digit.
“Come sit down and eat. Murphy and Ricky made some lunch since we missed breakfast.”
She smiled, and he noticed the pink blush appear on her cheeks. She was shy and beautiful. He felt his chest tighten. While she was in the other room with Brody, Waylon had expressed his concern over Amelia finding out about his upcoming training and boxing match. Murphy and Ricky ensured him that he needed to be honest and that Amelia would get the difference. Waylon was a professional fighter, the jerk-off from New York was a fucking joke.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Waylon said as Amelia took a seat in one of the chairs around the small kitchen table.
“Okay. What’s going on?” she asked then looked at his brothers. They appeared concerned, too.
“You know that I’m a professional fighter?”
She closed her eyes, sighed, then
smiled before she opened them. She reached up and took his hand.
“I know the difference. I understand. It will take some getting used to, but I get it.”
“Baby, I’m going to be in training the next few weeks. I have a big match coming up to a well-known guy. It’s in Vegas, and it’s going to be a difficult match. If you can’t handle it. If it upsets you, then I won’t do it.”
He heard his brothers gasp then release angry sighs. Amelia stood up. She reached up and cupped his cheek.
“Waylon, I love you. I would never take away your dreams or stand in the way of your goals. You said that you would never hurt me and I believe you.”
He turned and kissed the palm of her hand. Then she sat down.
“So who are you up against?” she asked.
The others brought the sandwiches over to the table and the pitcher of lemonade.
“A heavyweight from Chicago.”
She took a sip of lemonade from her glass.
“Not Jerry O’Connor?”
He nodded his head.
“Oh my God, Waylon. You must be really good. He’s tough. He’s also unconventional.”
“Unconventional?” Murphy asked then took a bite of his sandwich.
Waylon leaned back against the counter.
“Yeah. He fights dirty. He has a mean right hook and does these cheap shots. I don’t know your style of fighting, Waylon, but Jerry O is a wild one. He has so much pent-up anger in him. I saw him fight over a year ago. His opponent went out on a stretcher. He suffered a major concussion and broken cheekbone.”
“Shit,” Ricky said aloud.
They were all looking at Waylon.
“I know he’s tough. I’ve got my trainers coming in tomorrow. You think I can’t take him, Amelia?” Waylon asked.
She stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “How badly do you want to beat him?”
He looked at his brothers, their stern, hard expressions. It was difficult being so mean and pissed off in front of Amelia, but he was honest.
“I want to win. The grand prize would be a step in the right direction toward retirement.”
