I glance to my girl and see her eyes widen. I give her hand a squeeze like, it’s okay. I know you’re into me. Now.
Her nostrils flare, but still Bethany says nothing. Tony’s just as angry as he is shocked. Spitting with confusion as the pieces fall into place he stammers, “You hurt my boy on purpose, because what…you were jealous? Or are you just a vindictive bitch!”
“Tony,” she whispers.
“Don’t say my name! You hurt my boy, and that means you hurt my team.” He steps back like she’s lethal. “We almost didn’t make the play-offs because of you!”
Her mouth drops open, eyes wide as they dart around.
Furious, Wren’s voice is a tremor of self-control. “You need to leave. Don’t come back.”
Tony cuts me off from agreeing, his finger shooting out. “Get the fuck out of here. I can’t even look at you.”
She blinks and sputters, “My jacket’s inside.”
He flips around and whips the door open with all the violence he wants to use on her. With us alone she stares at the ground.
Wren asks, “Why’d you do it?”
“I don’t know.”
On a grunt I tell her, “You’ll have a lot of time to figure it out. You’re lucky we did this in private. You have Wren to thank for that.” Bending my knees to engage her eyes, I demand to know, “You hear me?”
Bethany nods just as Tony explodes out the door, thrusting her jacket at her. He’s so pissed he doesn’t trust himself to talk. She takes it, keeping her head down and hurrying to the parking lot. We start to go in, but Wren tugs on my arm. “Hold on, Eric.” She calls out, “Bethany, we’re going to wait out here ’til you get in your car, safely.”
The girl who nearly broke our hearts with a few well-chosen, hideous lies, glances over her shoulder, surprised. She nods to Wren, woman to woman.
Tony and I exchange a look, neither of us would have done that. The three of us step out into the quiet street when a bend makes Bethany vanish. We catch sight of her again, watch until she climbs in and the engine starts, lights cutting through the shadows of a wintery night.
As we walk inside, Wren stares off into the distance of her own thoughts. “One in three women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime. But not if I can help it.”
Chapter 41
ERIC
With bright green, flowering trees on all sides, the Jeep slows to grab the parking pass. “So I only get one guest pass a year and I’m using it on you. Feel special, Sweet Tits.”
“Please never call me that adorable nickname in front of my mother.”
“What’s that?” he asks, snatching the ticket and driving forward. “Tell your mom I like sucking on your sugary breasts? Is that what you said?”
“That is the opposite of what I said.”
“Write a letter to her, a proclamation of my adoration for your tasty nipples, you ask?”
“No. Never do that.”
“Hire a sky writer to fly over your Mom’s house telling her that I love fucking her only daughter?”
“Her only child, get it right. There are no others. I am the only…and the best.”
He laughs and pulls into a parking spot, hopping out of the car. The doors are gone since it’s springtime, so I jump down, too.
“Hey!” he objects.
“I don’t need help out of your damn Jeep, Eric.”
Grumbling to himself, “I’m screwing the doors back on if you do that again,” he laces our fingers together and brightens up. “Speaking of moms, this is where mine and my dad had one of their first dates.”
Interest piqued, I glance at his handsome profile. “They came here?”
“Yeah, with my Uncles.”
“Which ones?”
“The twins.”
“Jason and Justin? Why? Is your mother that wild that your father needed two chaperones?”
“If anyone in my family heard you say that, they’d think it was fucking hilarious.” Pulling out his membership card and the paper guest pass, he slides them through the little gap under the ticket-window. “How you doing?”
The volunteer smiles back, “Beautiful day!” as she scans them and hands his card back. “Enjoy yourselves. Be sure to check out the orchids.”
“Oh, we will,” he grins. “You have a great day now.”
“Thank you!”
Proudly he leads me into the entrance. There are folded maps tucked into a silver display on the first floor and bathrooms upstairs to our left. Glass walls ahead give visitors a peek at the majestic beauty waiting for them. For us.
Another volunteer waits by folded paper maps, hands clasped in front of her uniform. “Welcome to Atlanta’s Botanical Gardens. Have you been here before?”
Eric proudly informs her, “I’m a lifelong member, but it’s my girlfriend’s first time.”
“Oh how nice,” she smiles, having no clue how much this means to me.
Eric hooks his arm around my waist, “You ready?”
We walk out into what can only be called an oasis, a feast for my soul, flora and fauna carefully selected in an artful design of pathways and bridges. I’m speechless as we start the adventure, birds singing high in the trees, rainbows of butterflies landing inches from us. The air smells so fresh and crisp that I wish they could bottle it so I could bring it back to my house and only breathe this air.
“I can’t believe it’s always been right here my whole life, and I never came,” I whisper, wide eyes and heart open.
“I’m glad your first time is with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Makes me feel like it’s mine.”
He takes my hand and we stroll around, him pointing out plants he likes and telling me what he knows about them. We go under a tiled passage and Eric pauses to kiss me, backing me against a wall as my arms slip around his neck. His eyes shine as he gazes down at me. “You happy, Wren?”
“Ridiculously.”
He kisses my nose and says, “Wait until you see this next part.” As we come around a corner Eric watches my expression. I gasp at an enormous sculpture of a woman’s serene face. Through her green hand pours water into a fountain. “They call her Earth Goddess,” he smiles. “She’s made of plants and flowers, see that?”
Looking closer I’m stunned. “She’s so beautiful! Whoever created her was a visionary!”
“Guess how tall she is?”
“I can’t.”
“Twenty-five feet.”
“No! Oh my God, can we get a picture in front of her?”
He grins, “Sure,” and politely stops a couple as they pass by, their eyes just as filled with awe. “Excuse me, could you take our picture?”
“Only if you’ll take ours,” the older man barters with a twinkle in his eyes. They light up more, this time with recognition. “Hey now, aren’t you the Falcons’ quarterback?”
Eric holds out his hand. “I am, yeah. What’s your name?”
“Hank, and this is my wife, Betty. Congratulations on the Super Bowl.”
Betty gushes, “You slaughtered ‘em!”
“Thanks! They didn’t stand a chance. Where you from?”
“Arizona. It was ninety in Phoenix last week,” she announces, clearly not pleased with it. “Can we take a photo with you?”
I offer to do it, and the couple stands on each of Eric’s sides, him towering above them. Neither of them can be taller than five-six.
“Got it!” I smile, offering the camera. “Take a look. I gave you some choices.”
Glancing to the screen, they huddle, excited. “I can’t wait to tell Connie, she’ll be so jazzed!”
“I’m gonna be the star of the poker game next time, I can tell you that,” Hank grins. “Oh, let us take yours.”
Eric hands him his cell. “Use my phone. Wren forgets to text me photos of us.”
“I do not!”
“Don’t lie.”
“Well, I get distracted,” I mutter as we walk over to stand with the Earth Goddess
and soothing sound of water, behind us. Hank and Betty stand a good distance away, angling the phone to get a better shot. I go for Eric’s hand but he mutters, “Hang on,” digging in his pocket. “Did I forget my keys in the Jeep?”
“I hope not. You want to go back?”
“No, I’ve got ‘em, sorry. Hank make it video, okay?”
“Okay…Ready!”
Frowning I ask, “Why video?”
Eric bends his knee, holding up a diamond ring between his thumb and forefinger. I gasp, hands flying to my lips as his smile becomes intimate, hopeful, and filled with love. “Wren, be my wife. Marry me?”
Tears of happiness spring up and hover as I breathe a quietly shocked, “Yes.”
“Louder so my family can hear you later,” he winks.
“Yes! Oh yes, I would love to marry you, Eric!”
My finger trembles as he slides the ring on. I stare at it, and it winks back. Quietly so nobody but us can hear, he smirks, “I love you, Sweet Tits.”
Biting my lip on a grin I whisper back, “I love you, Cocker, you jerk, more than you know.”
“You’re going to have lots of time to show me.” Pressing a firm, final kiss to my smile he rises up and deepens it, briefly but with promises of more to come. We glance to the strangers who will forever be a part of our lives in this memory. “You get that, Hank? Betty?”
The couple beams, nodding. “Got it!” He hands the phone back and loops his arm around his wife. “We’ve been married thirty-two years. I hope you’re as lucky.”
We thank them and say goodbye, but as we leave with our arms around each other, too, Eric’s cocky, lopsided grin flashes and he calls back, “We’re gonna beat that, Hank, I promise you.”
Laughing I quietly chide him as we stroll away, “You’re so competitive.”
“Life is a game,” he murmurs into my hair, our footsteps keeping time. “Play it to win it.” After a few moments he laughs, “I know what my Mom is going to get us as an engagement present.”
“Oh yeah, what?”
“Your membership card to the Gardens. You might be an only child but you’re going to have two moms, two dads now…and a huge fucking family to go with ‘em.”
Chapter 42
WREN
At his apartment, Eric undresses me slowly in front of the glass walls that take up the entire east side of his home, the full moon our light, casting a blue glow, shadows deep. I raise my arms and have the dress lifted away before his lips work their way down my body, calloused fingers pressing first into my lower back, next my ass, and settling into the soft round crease underneath. His mouth stops in front of my pussy and presses a kiss to it.
I start to ask, “Was your team mad you left the bachelor party early,” but the words fade into a moan.
“Do I look like I care what they think?” he murmurs into my dampened hair. “This is why I told you to wear no panties. I planned this all along.”
“Sneaky sneaky,” I smile, and tell him as he spreads my lips and tongues my clit with deliberate slowness, “The girls loved that you showed up. Oh that feels so good!” Lacing my fingers into his hair I can barely get out, “Hannah was just kidding about you ruining the bachelorette party.”
He laughs into my slickness, and slips a digit inside, locking eyes with me from down there, the hazel darkened with lust. “I had enough ‘bachelor parties’ when I turned pro.”
Fisting his hair I tilt his head up and challenge him, tightening my grip, “You want to bring that up now?”
“Ow,” he grins. “Sorry. It’s always been you. I was a virgin before. Honest!”
My shoulders shakes with laughter and I point at my pussy, “Back to work, Cocker.”
His smile disappears and he dives in, licking and sucking until my legs tremble. He lifts me and I hook them around his hips as backs me into the window. “You want to give the world a peek at greatness?” he smirks, jerking his chin to the sleeping, treelined neighborhood of Virginia Highlands, Georgia, below.
Arousal deepens like a shot of adrenaline, and I lock hooded eyes with him on a nod. He sets me down so we can get these sexy jeans off my man. He tears his shirt off, and now we’re both naked. Our shoes, and his socks, were abandoned at the front door, a tradition he learned from his father, Jake.
My soft, pliable body cranes into his tight, sculpted muscles as our mouths explore, fingers searching and digging wherever the mood strikes. I jump up and he catches me on him, positioning the tip of his massive cock against my pussy’s entrance. We moan together, his guttural and mine high-pitched and soft, as he dives deeply inside of me.
We fuck like this.
Standing up.
Me riding him.
Mouths latched against primal moans, just like we did in the forest, only now my ass is against glass. The full moon has us in her sensual clutches and I hope someone’s watching. Maybe they’ll be turned on. Maybe they’ll learn something. Maybe they’ll take a picture and any other woman out there who doesn’t realize Eric Cocker is mine, will get the shock of her life.
Chapter 43
WREN
“Too tight?” Eleanor asks, looking at me in the reflection, her grip firm on the strings of my corseted bodice, wedding dress belling out in a cloud of white below.
My mother rushes over in a modest, taupe dress that flows just below her knees. Hurriedly she sets her borrowed champagne flute on the antique vanity. “She can’t even breathe to answer!”
But before she wrestles the job away from my Maid of Honor, who is also in taupe but hers is floor-length and fit to show off curves, I stop her. “No, Mom, it’s perfect. Let Eleanor do it. I was just soaking this in.”
Their curious gazes rest on me in the mirror and both soften. Eleanor fidgets with the bow, shaking her head. “You look beautiful.”
Swiping the glass back into her nervous hand, Mom sighs, “Stunning, honey, really. Why am I shaking and you’re not!?”
“I’m not afraid,” I say simply. Eric and I have spent every day together since the night we cleared up the terrible misunderstanding. I’ve flown everywhere he’s had to go. Carla and Mike welcomed me back to the bar and I’m always able to cover a shift when the team travels. I cheered for him at the Super Bowl. We went out and partied with the team after and then alone in his hotel room there was a better celebration. We get along better than we expected to, credited to us sharing the same sense of humor. We crack each other up all the time.
Nancy Cocker flies into her bedroom wearing a pretty, floral knee-length gown and pearls. She freezes upon sight of me. “Oh Wren, look at you!”
Turning around, I lift the train and touch my naked collarbone, fingers oddly still. “What do you think, Mrs. Cocker? I know you wanted pearls but I like it this way.”
“I told you please call me Grandma Nance! Eric does, and so do all of my grandchildren.” Under her breath she adds, “Why it doesn’t make me feel old is a mystery. Maybe because I am!” Clapping her hands, graceful strides bring her to inspect me. “Drew is right behind me—Oh, here she is! Drew, dear, what do you think of your future daughter-in-law?”
The woman who made this possible, melts and covers her mouth, eyes as misty blue as her dress. “Emma did a lovely job on your hair!” She hurries over, inspecting the combs. “It was so nice of Ethan to loan you these. They’ve been in my family for over a century, but Kaya won’t be wearing them for decades! My grandmother and mother wore them to their weddings before I wore them to mine. And—”
“I wore them to my wedding,” Emma laughs as she enters the sunny bedroom with fresh champagne. “Yes, Mom, Wren knows the story. You told her at the bridal shower!”
Drew demurs, taking the empty flute glass offered her. “Well, I’m sorry, but I think it’s terribly romantic, and good luck! All of those marriages lasted.”
Emma rolls her chestnut brown eyes and pours. “Jury is still out on mine.” She gives me a wink as both Grandma Nance and Drew get all crazy, fluttering their hands a
nd eyelashes while they insist Tanner is perfect for her.
“If a little bit pig-headed,” Drew acquiesces with a smile.
Eleanor holds two glasses for filling, one for me. We all lift them, about to make a toast when the door creaks open and we hear, “Now hold on! Don’t leave me out!”
All heads turn to the familiar voice, and Grandma Nance rushes over to help Grams, Eric’s great grandmother, the real family Matriarch, join our little female circle.
She and her true love and husband Jerald, may he rest in peace, are the reason we’re all here. Her cane thumps the ground as she delicately makes the journey. We of course walk closer, but do it subtly.
But you can’t get anything past this woman. Oh no, don’t even try! With an amused glint in her sharp, blue eyes she drawls, “I might be over a hundred but I’m not an invalid! I could have come to you. I made it up those stairs didn’t I?”
Drew can’t hold back a shocked, “Did you?”
May Cocker giggles, “Well, I’m not one to lie. I may have had some help. Jake and Jeremy carried me up them, clasping their hands together and me sitting pretty in the best looking, living and breathing, two headed chair you ever did see!”
The room bursts out laughing, and Eleanor and I exchange a look. I’d told her Grams was amazing and now she sees for herself that it’s oh so true.
My mother hands her generously poured champagne. “Here ya go, May.”
“Oh thank you, dear! I love the bubbly.”
“Don’t we all,” Emma smiles from behind her glass, my future sister-in-law in a taupe bridesmaid dress that matches El’s.
I’m standing between the two of them, which makes me realize something for the first time. “I guess I have a thing for people whose names start with ‘E.’”
The girls react. “Oh, that’s right!”
“Emma and Eleanor, I hadn’t thought about it!”
I remind them, “Don’t forget Eric.”
His sister adopts an innocent look. “Who?”
Cocky Quarterback: Eric Cocker (Cocker Brothers of Atlanta Book 12) Page 17