Page 23 of A Fighter’s Love

The scent of jasmine and spice wafted toward her. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth watered.

“There’s plenty,” he said. “Jackson’s gone to his sister’s, it’s her birthday. I forgot and ordered for him.”

“Well if there’s some going spare,” Jenny said with a grin. Spend time with Daleandget fed. What was not to love about that?

“Hop in.” He set the bag down, then the van door sprang open.

Quickly she climbed inside. A couple of protein bar wrappers floated to the floor and Dale hastily shoved at a stack of boxing magazines and a pair of thick, gray construction gloves covered in dust.

“Sorry, keeping the van tidy isn’t my strong point.”

“That’s okay, as long as it gets you around.”

“It does.”

She fastened her seatbelt.

“So where we going?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Where’d you live? I’ll run you home then we’ll eat. Is that okay?”

Eat dinner in her apartment, with Dale. This evening was getting better by the second. She hesitated, wondering if she’d left it tidy that morning, but then pushed the worry aside. So what if she hadn’t? Dale obviously wasn’t too bothered about tidiness. “It’s a couple of miles from here. Head toward the A40, it’s next left, and then a straight route west.”

“Got ya.”

Twenty minutes later, Jenny put the key into the lock on her front door.

Dale was close behind, the smell of the food wafting around them.

She opened the door and was relieved to see her small living room, though a bit cluttered, was perfectly presentable. “Come in,” she said.

Dale stepped inside. “Nice,” he said. “And great view.”

“Yes, it’s one of the reasons I bought the place.” She closed the curtains halfway, allowing a clear line of sight to a tall church spire puncturing the dark skyline.

“You been here long?”

“Yes, about five years.”

“Didn’t fancy buying with Billy then?”

“No, and thank goodness I didn’t. I had some inheritance, from my parents, and a financial advisor recommended I stay independent.” She paused. “I’m glad I listened to her, especially now.

He frowned a little and set the food on the counter that separated the kitchenette from the living area. “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Your parents. I didn’t realize you’d lost them both.”

She shrugged and removed her shoes and cardigan. “It was hard, but it was a long time ago now.”

For a moment he studied her, as if seeing her anew. Then he pulled in a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. “I’m gonna fade away if I don’t eat soon.”

“Me too.” She retrieved plates and cutlery. “Want a drink?”

“I’m good with water. I’ll be driving soon.” He reached for a couple of tumblers upended on the drainer. “Want some?”

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