The XOXO New Adult Collection: 16 Full Length New Adult Stories

by Brina Courtney

  A cheer went up. Everly couldn’t help but smile over the sound. Soon, she and Cole had teams created with an equal number of kids of ages varying from eight to eighteen. They did their best to make the teams equal.

  Because Everly wanted Cole to protect his arm as much as possible, she had him serve as an umpire behind the plate. Jayden, too young to play, insisted on staying near Cole, so she stood behind the fence right behind home plate. Everly served as the line ump, switching from first to third base depending on whether the batter was right or left-handed. One of the eighteen-year-olds opted to serve as a third umpire in the outfield.

  They had a great time. The game took almost three hours with all of the jeering, cheering, and confusion that resulted from having so many kids in one place. In the end, Rayshawn’s team won by two runs.

  It was nearing five o’clock when they reached Everly’s house. Since the kids followed them and begged Cole to autograph their equipment, she went inside and grabbed a couple of pens and Sharpies. She brought them out and watched as he sat in one of the plastic porch chairs and signed anything the kids put in front of him. He didn’t even have to ask their names. He’d learned them while they played, and addressed them each personally as they handed him things to sign.

  To Everly, it went a long way toward excusing his atrocious behavior from the night before.

  She went inside and greeted her grandpa while Cole stayed outside. He filled her in on the details about the Falcons’ win and asked her how the game went. As she checked on the chili and threw together some cornbread, she told him all the details.

  About twenty minutes later, she went to check on Cole. Aside from Rayshawn and Jayden, two boys remained with him on the porch, chatting with him. Everly held back a smile as she recognized Lawrence and Nate, two kids who waved at her when they saw her but didn’t spend much time talking with her. They were tall, athletic boys in their late teens. She knew they lived with single mothers and hung out a lot with the kids in the neighborhood who attended their school, but they conducted themselves differently than the other kids.

  “All right, y’all,” she said. “I’ve got chili and cornbread for anyone who wants it. Anyone else needs to head on home.” She looked around the group as she spoke and settled on Cole when she said the last words.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, getting to his feet.

  Everyone looked at Cole, then at her.

  “Sounds great, Ms. Everly,” Lawrence said. Nate nodded beside him. “Thanks for the invite.”

  Everly looked at Rayshawn. “Should I call your ma?”

  “We’re good,” he said. “Mama’s at work.” Then he glanced at Jayden, who sat on the porch playing with a couple of wild-haired Barbie dolls. “'Cept...do you have any mac n’ cheese?”

  “I think we can figure something out,” she said.

  It was one of the best meals she’d enjoyed in years. The males gathered in the family room to watch ESPN, either sitting on the floor around the coffee table or dragging chairs from the kitchen table to eat around the television. She sat with Jayden in the kitchen, talking to her as they ate their separate meals of chili and Kraft Dinner. The little girl was sharp as a tack, chatting away about subjects that Everly didn’t remember learning until she was much older.

  Occasionally, shouts emerged from the family room. Everly had no idea what game they were watching, but it warmed her heart to hear her grandpa adding his two cents to the good-hearted banter. She knew Cole’s presence was just as much a thrill for him as it was the kids.

  After dinner, she sent the kids home since it was a school night. When they all tried to convince her otherwise, Cole promised to come back. It was enough to get them out the door.

  She walked around the family room collecting dishes for washing and wasn’t sure what to think when Cole helped her. From what she had witnessed over the past couple weeks, the most he did to clean up after himself was put things near the sink for the housekeeper to handle. It was strange seeing him voluntarily doing such a domestic task.

  They walked back into the kitchen together. She’d already filled the sink with warm soapy water, so she set the bowls and plates into it.

  “Where’s the dishwasher?” Cole asked.

  “You’re looking at her.”

  “Oh.” He looked flummoxed for a moment, then approached the sink and added the dishes he carried to the water. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure,” she said, handing him the dishtowel. “I’ll tell you where everything goes.”

  They got into a rhythm of washing and drying, but they didn’t speak outside of her telling him where to store things. Although Cole watched her and seemed as though he wanted to talk, she was suddenly unsure of herself. A month ago, she never would have dreamed she’d be standing in her grandpa’s small kitchen with Cole Parker drying the dishes. Now, she was hyper-aware of him.

  “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?” he asked when he put the last dish away.

  “What do you mean?” She pulled a fresh towel out of a drawer so she could dry her hands. “We’ve been together most of the day.”

  He handed her the wet dishtowel and held her gaze. “You stayed as far from me as you could at every turn.”

  Since she was pressed against the stove, she couldn’t back away from him. He was entirely too close. She could smell the soap he used. She could see the green flecks in his eyes. She could feel the warmth from his hard body.

  “I...didn’t mean to,” she said softly.

  When his gaze moved to her mouth, she instinctively moistened her lips. His eyes darkened in color. She knew she had to be honest with him if they were going to start fresh.

  “It’s what my former therapist used to call a defense mechanism,” she continued in the same quiet voice. Now, his eyes returned to hers. “I’m better about it now, but it still happens. I keep distance between myself and others, especially if I feel they’re getting too close too fast.”

  He considered that in silence. Then he eased back a step. The action both relieved and disappointed her.

  “All right,” he said at last. “I can understand that. Really. I’m fine with moving at your pace.” His eyes scanned her face. “I just hope you won’t cut me out completely. I value your friendship.”

  And she not only valued his, but could see it progressing beyond friendship in no time at all. She’d never gotten so comfortable with someone so easily. Thus, she’d tried to separate herself from him. It was up to her to decide if she really wanted to maintain that separation or if she wanted to take her grandpa’s advice...and start living.

  She shook her head. “It’s not my goal to cut you out, Cole. In fact, I may need you to push me outside of my comfort zone now and then. Don’t let me get away with the sort of distancing you saw today. Do you know what I mean?”

  He smiled. “I think I can figure it out.”

  That smile made her heart do a back flip. She didn’t know where this was going, but it was sure to be an adventure, she decided.

  “Do you want to stay for the ‘Niners-Pats game?” she asked.

  “If you’ll have me,” he said.

  She sensed there was a subtle innuendo behind his words, but she didn’t know exactly what it was or how to address it. Well, one step at a time, she decided. And that step would involve a few hours sitting next to Cole Parker on her family room sofa.

  “As long as you don’t root for New England, you’re welcome here.”

  He grinned and reached out to sling an arm over her shoulder, pulling her toward the family room. “I think you and I are going to get along famously, Miss Wallace,” he said.

  Chapter 19

  “Good morning, Ms. Margaret,” Cole greeted his housekeeper the following morning. “How are you today?”

  “Just fine, Mr. Cole,” she said, beaming a smile at him. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

  “I did.” He opted for his Thor mug and filled it with fresh coffee, then took
a seat at the kitchen island. Margaret filled the cup the rest of the way with creamer. “Thanks. How ‘bout you? Did you get out to see Priscilla like you planned?”

  “Sho’ did. Saw my grandbaby, too.” Her smile about split her face.

  Taking a sip of his coffee, Cole waved his hand in a “bring ‘em on” motion. She laughed and reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a stack of glossy prints.

  “You know me too well,” she said, leaning forward so she could peer at the pictures with him. “I can’t resist takin’ a million pictures when I’m around my girl and her baby.”

  He made appropriate sounds and comments as he looked at photo after photo of a two-year-old cherub who wore her puffy brown hair in pig tails and appeared to love the color pink. She really was a cutie, so it wasn’t hard to show interest. When he finished with the stack, Margaret put them back into her apron pocket.

  “Now, Mr. Cole, I was ‘bout to make some breakfast for you,” she said, opening the fridge and pulling out some bacon and eggs. “Should I be makin’ enough for just you, or you and a guest?”

  He paused with the coffee pot in his hand. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I cleaned two champagne flutes this mornin’.”

  “Ah.” He’d meant to clean those yesterday, but it slipped his mind. Struggling to think of some sort of explanation, he poured his second cup of coffee. “I’m here alone, Ms. Margaret,” he said at last. “Um, thanks for asking.”

  “All right, then,” she said. Before he could sneak guiltily out of the kitchen, she asked, “Is she a good girl for you?”

  His discomfort eased. Now, he smiled. “Yes, ma’am. She is.”

  She just nodded. He continued to smile as he went to turn on SportsCenter and grabbed his iPad, settling on the sofa. The scent of bacon cooking made his stomach growl. He pulled up his stocks and began the routine of communicating with his broker, checking e-mail, and surfing his social networking sites.

  His parents wanted him to come out and see the house before Christmas, since the actual holiday was so chaotic. He made plans to drive the hour out to see them the next day. Then he spotted an e-mail from his agent and remembered that he’d forgotten to return a call to him the day before. Oops.

  Deciding he had a few minutes, he picked up the cordless phone on the end table near his elbow and dialed Wayne’s number.

  “Hey there, Cole,” Wayne answered after two rings. “You had me worried there.”

  “Sorry, Wayne. I was out all day yesterday and didn’t get home until late. What’s up?”

  “Well, I had a run-in with Rebecca Peterman about a week ago, and then again the night before last. She’s got me concerned about you.”

  Cole clutched the handle of his coffee mug as anger surged. “How is it you two are seeing so much of each other?”

  “It was a coincidence both times, but she seemed concerned that you’re getting mixed up with someone who’ll have a, well, less than positive impact on your image.”

  His temper flashed, pushing him to his feet so he could walk farther from the kitchen and out of Margaret’s earshot. “Wayne, listen to me. Rebecca’s nuts. Seriously certifiable. Don’t listen to anything—”

  “Are you saying that Everly Wallace isn’t a destitute waitress with a past involving commitment in a psychiatric hospital?”

  “I’m saying that Rebecca is wrong on many levels, and you just need to trust me to handle my own personal affairs. You know me, Wayne. I keep a low profile.”

  “Cole, I know I don’t need to remind you that this is a contract year. We can’t afford for you to tarnish your image in any way. In fact, you need to do everything you can to keep it pristine.”

  Cole downed the rest of his coffee, then said, “Believe me, Wayne. No one knows that better than me.”

  * * *

  He’d convinced Everly to plan to stay for dinner that evening. She arrived at two o’clock that afternoon after Margaret went home. The prospect of spending some time with her alone without it involving PT or hellish conditioning exercises brightened his mood, even as he watched her pull out the various implements she’d torture him with that afternoon.

  “More work with the cane?” he groaned. “It makes me feel geriatric.”

  “Don’t complain,” she said. “We need to work through these passive range of motion exercises until I’m satisfied that your shoulder strength can handle more active ones. As long as you’re diligent—and not whining—we should be able to move forward by the end of next week. I’ve already started outlining the plan for your upper extremity stabilization exercises.”

  Taking the cane from her, he said, “You have no idea what it does to me when you use words like ‘stabilization.’ So doctorly.”

  She snorted and shook her head. “‘Doctorly’ isn’t a word. It hurt my tongue a little just saying it.”

  “Sure it’s a word,” he said as he began his first set of exercises under her careful eye.

  “No, it’s not.” She appeared to think about it as she straightened his posture. “Use it in a sentence.”

  “I’m not doctorly, but I’ll bet I could make your tongue feel a whole lot better.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Are you attempting to flirt with me?”

  “Ouch. You’re a harsh woman, Everly Wallace.”

  They worked together for more than two hours, taking their time to make sure the physical therapy was effective, then focusing on cardio. By the time they finished, they were both sweaty and exhausted.

  Cole waved an arm from his prone position on the exercise mat. “Go on without me,” he said as he worked on controlling his breathing. “Save yourself.”

  “You may not have noticed, but Billy is still going through the cool down,” Everly said, watching the Tae Bo video on the flat screen television and following the bald, muscular instructor’s movements. “You didn’t see him collapse in a heap after his last side kick, did you?”

  “Billy can kiss my—”

  “Tsk, tsk. Just because you don’t like exercising doesn’t make Billy the enemy. Do you think those things about me when I’m working with you?”

  “Are you asking me if I want you to kiss my—?”

  “Cole!”

  Her expression was priceless. He laughed and shoved himself back up to do the last of the cool down. Then he stood and held a hand out to help her up.

  “For the record, I do think about you kissing me,” he said when they faced each other. “A lot.”

  He knew her red cheeks weren’t all a result of her exertion. Her reactions to his flirtations were always refreshing. Today, she looked at the mat for a moment, then his chest, and finally met his gaze.

  “I think about kissing you, too,” she admitted. “Though I usually picture myself smelling a lot better than this.”

  He laughed again. “Come on. You can use the guest room shower and get changed in there.”

  After he deposited her in the guest room closest to his bedroom, he went and showered and changed. He’d shaved earlier, almost going clean-shaven instead of keeping the chin strap, but the look had become one of his signatures. Better not rock the boat just then, he decided, especially since he had a photo shoot that week.

  After pulling on some jeans and a T-shirt, he headed out to the kitchen without bothering to put on socks. Casual suited him just fine. He didn’t feel as though he had to act any different than usual to impress Everly. In his professional world, it was all about image. Everyone put on a façade. It was nice to not have to think about being anyone but himself.

  He smiled when she joined him in the kitchen fifteen minutes later. She’d found the hair dryer and taken the time to style her hair and put on a little makeup. Though she didn’t need it, the makeup had a striking effect on her features, making him pause an extra moment to appreciate it. She also wore jeans, but she’d dressed them up a bit with a dark green top that left the tops of her shoulders bare. It clung to her breasts, then loosened into flowy
fabric to her hips. She looked both delicate and seductive.

  When he looked down, he realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes, either. Something about that simple fact shoved his libido into overdrive.

  He knew then that Everly Wallace was about to put his self-control to the test without even trying at all.

  Chapter 20

  Everly told herself to be flattered, not embarrassed, by Cole’s scrutiny. When he looked at her bare feet, she was glad she’d decided to paint her toenails earlier. The bold shade of red gave her a boost of confidence.

  “Your floors are warmer than the ones I’m used to,” she said by way of explanation.

  “Heated subflooring. Real nice in the winter.”

  She relaxed when he wiggled his eyebrows and went back to chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of him. Maybe she had read too much into his intent once-over.

  “You sure look nice, Ms. Wallace,” he said. “Thanks for joining me for dinner.”

  Smiling, she walked closer to the island. “Thanks for the invite, Mr. Parker. What are we having?”

  “Pot roast,” he answered. He turned and tossed the chopped carrots into a large roasting pan sitting on the counter. “It’s my signature dish.”

  She gave him a dubious look.

  “All right, it’s my only dish that doesn’t involve a grill,” he admitted with a grin. “But you’re going to love it.”

  Walking over to the roasting pan, she saw the uncooked meat covered in some kind of gravy with a heap of vegetables along the outside edges. Even though it wasn’t cooked yet, it did smell pretty good.

  “In my world, pot roast takes a long time to cook properly.”

  “That it does,” he confirmed, speaking over the running water as he washed his hands. He gave her a wink. “It’s all part of my grand scheme to spend as much time with you as possible without doing a single crunch or range of motion exercise.”

  That made her smile. “Quite crafty of you.”