Cole interrupts, “Almost.”
“Okay, almost every morning, at the same time, order the same thing, and sit at the same table. Do you have some kind of OCD or something? Are you obsessive-compulsive?”
“Oh, yes – do tell.” The three of us look up to find Cait has dragged herself out of bed and is now joining our little trio. “What kinds of chinks do you have in that ruggedly handsome armor?” This is one of those rare moments when I actually like Cait’s tenacity.
He folds his hands in front of him and steeples his two pointer fingers, tapping them together as he considers his response. “Obsessive – no. Compulsive – definitely not. I prefer to use the word ... superstitious.”
“See, when the season started, I was crashing at my cousin’s house. He and his new wife were great, but they just got married and I knew I couldn’t stay there for very long. The Red Hawks weren’t doing well, either,” Cole explains. “I was miserable.”
“That’s right. I remember. The Cubs were kicking your ass all over Chicago. Weren’t the Red Hawks in last place in their division?” Cait asks.
“We were. Until about six weeks ago when everything started to click. I moved out of Evan’s beach house and into a townhouse on the north end of the boardwalk. That was right around the same time you guys opened this place. So I decided to stop down here on my way to the ball field. And do you know what happened that day?”
Brie enthusiastically ventures a guess. “Oh, did you win? I bet you did. You won, didn’t you?” She laughs, the delicate sound matching her soothing voice.
“We did,” Cole agrees. “And we kept on winning. Now, I can’t be sure if my luck changed because I moved or because I started coming here, but I decided it’s best if I sleep in my own townhouse and come here for breakfast before every home game. Just to be safe.”
“Does that mean TitleWave is your good luck charm?” Brie asks.
“Yeah, I suppose it does.” Cole leans in and motions for us to listen closely. “Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Sure thing,” Cait agrees, “but personally, I don’t see what the big deal is. Everyone knows about Jason Giambi’s superstitious golden thong underwear he takes to every game. By comparison, your little pregame ritual is pretty tame.”
“How do you know breakfast is my only ritual? Maybe I have a golden thong, too.” Cole chuckles at his own humor. He has Cait and Brie wrapped around his little finger. I don’t like it. But what bothers me even more is the fact that it bothers me at all.
“I doubt it,” she confidently answers. “I’ve always believed that if a guy wears really expensive or sexy underwear, he actually lacks confidence – he makes up for his insecurity by expensively framing the goods. You strike me more of a boxer-brief kind of guy. Am I right?”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” he teases her. I glance over at him and the startlingly intense blue of his eyes become clearer. To say that his eyes are blue is like saying that the sun is yellow. Sufficient but not accurate. His piercing blue eyes gaze into my own and I can feel myself drowning in those great sapphire lakes.
“You’re right,” Cait replies, then turns to me. “So Kenny, tell us – what kind of underwear does our new friend here like to wear?”
I almost choke on my coffee. Why the hell would she say that? I swear, if murder wasn’t a crime, I’d strangle her right here and right now.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Cole interrupts, sensing my homicidal intents. He turns to Cait and explains, “She probably doesn’t remember. It was a long time ago and we both had a lot to drink that night.”
“Boxers,” I answer. Turning to Cait, I repeat myself. “He wore boxers that night.” I remember every detail of that night, but I’m not about to admit it out loud.
Cole looks at me and raises a brow. “I’m surprised you remember,” he replies, a knowing grin on his face.
Brie tries to save me from complete embarrassment. “Kenny has one of those memories. She remembers everything, right down to the finest point. That’s probably what makes her an amazing writer. She has so many memories and observations to draw upon.”
Fuck. No one is supposed to know about my other life.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were a writer. Would I have read anything you’ve written?” Cole asks.
Cait answers in the way that only she can – turning a simple answer into a fishing expedition. “Kenny writes romance novels. I doubt you’ve read her books, but your girlfriend probably has.”
I say a silent prayer. For the love of all that’s holy, please let him have a girlfriend.
Cole answers very directly, “Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Damn. I wish he didn’t say that. That makes him available. I don’t want him to be available. I would much prefer it if he were taken, claimed, and off the market. Then he can go back to being my fantasy.
Fantasies are so much better. To imagine a world of possibilities, unhampered by the reality of life and its complications. I don’t want him to leave my fantasy world. I don’t want to be hurt and disappointed . . . not again.
“Interesting,” Cait mumbles, kicking me under the table. “Cole, do you have any plans tonight?”
“Nope. No game tonight; just a quick practice after lunch. I should be home by six. Why? What are you ladies doing tonight?”
Cait enthusiastically describes the night she has planned for our little group. “My brother Declan is here for one more night. We’re hitting up Johnny Mac’s in Asbury, then who knows?”
“What kind of a place is this Johnny Mac’s? I’m not really into the nightclub scene.” Cole leans in and I have a feeling he’s interested.
“Oh, it’s not a club at all,” Brie answers. “The vibe there is great – a little divey but at the same time, it's really spacious. There is a large outdoor area with its own bar. The place is decorated with all sorts of tchotchkes - it's cluttered, but in an interesting way. Dim lighting inside - which is always a plus in my book.”
“And let’s not forget the free pizza. Buying one beer earns you a ticket for a free personal pizza.” Cait is happy to elaborate.
“How about that? You can't go wrong with free pizza,” Cole agrees. He slaps his belly and if memory serves, there’s not an ounce of fat to be found on those glorious abs.
My mind quickly darts back to that magical night six months ago. I have revisited this night over and over in my imagination. I’ve written and rewritten scenes in my head that would make an amazing plot twist in my next book – if there ever is a next book.
I am snapped back to the here and now when I feel the lightest touch on my lower back. I tense. Cole is touching me. I glance up at him.
Shit, I did it again! What did I miss now?
With his thigh pressed to mine, his fingertips on my back, and his gaze boring into mine, I freeze. Everyone around us fades into gray, like an invisible wall suddenly encircles Cole and me. His fingers press deeper and my body begins to tingle.
Cole looks at me and repeats, “I asked if you’re going to Johnny Mac’s tonight.”
I shake my head. “Can’t,” I mumble.
“That’s too bad,” he answers. He seems genuinely disappointed.
“What do you like to do between games?” Cait asks. “It sounds to me like you don’t get out a lot. Pretty much everyone around here’s been to Johnny Mac’s.”
“Well, to be honest, my cousin and his friends are the only people I know in this area. And they’re all busy playing house. You know – getting married and having babies. I moved in right after the season began and I haven’t had much of a chance to, um, explore.”
Caitlin’s eyes narrow on Cole. And back onto me. She has a plan. One that I’m sure I’m not going to like.
Cait takes total control of the interrogation – I mean conversation. In no time, she learns exactly where he lives, what he drives, and when his next game is.
After learning he has the next two days off, she insi
sts he join our little group for a much-deserved night out on the town and the next thing I know, they are exchanging phone numbers.
Cole stands up as the conversation comes to a close. “I suppose I’ll be seeing you later tonight.” He unleashes his killer grin, turns, and walks away.
The moment he’s gone from our vision, I hurry to get to work. All the while, I try not to think about how great he looked or how perfect his ass looked walking away in his beach shorts.
But to be perfectly honest, I’m not trying all that hard.
It’s best if things are left just the way they were – a thrilling and impassioned once in a lifetime fling. A memory of what was and the fantasy of what could have been.
Besides, Cole is a professional baseball player. I don’t need to hitch my wagon to his star. I’ve chosen a life out of the public eye and although he may not be a public figure yet, it’s only a matter of time.
If Cait is so set on setting him up with someone, she can set her sights elsewhere. I’m out.
CHAPTER 6
I HAVE NO ONE TO BLAME BUT MYSELF for the self-inflicted torture I put myself through from the moment Cait, Brie, and Declan leave the house to meet up with Cole in Asbury. Beautiful, smart, witty, and driven Cait – if she sets her sights on a man, she is almost always guaranteed to reel him in. Could I stand it if she decides she wants to have Cole for herself? And if she does, what can I say about it? I told everyone that I don’t want him, so I haven’t got a leg to stand on.
Then there’s Brie. She’s got a smile that lights up a room and anyone spending more than a few minutes with her can tell you she’s kind, charming, and as cute as a button in her own kitschy way. The pity about Brie is that she doesn’t even recognize when someone is flirting with her. Without even realizing that it’s happening, Cole could fall fast and hard for Brie and I’d be a long forgotten blip in his memory.
What I’ve failed to consider and completely neglected are Cole’s feelings. If he develops a bond with either one of them, who am I to get in the middle of that? He’s handsome, successful, and from all indications, a really nice guy. Either one of my girls would be lucky to have him. Just because he’s not right for me doesn’t mean he can’t pursue other women, even if those women happen to reside under my roof and work side-by-side with me.
It’s time to grow up and as my sister-in-law Megan once told me, I have to trust myself to be able to deal with whatever fate puts in my path; or as Cait eloquently puts it ... when the shit hits the fan.
Speaking of decisions, I make another important one worth noting. I have decided to ignore my problems and escape into the pages of a good book. After some serious deliberation, I have decided that tonight’s diversion will be Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises.
This isn’t a happy-go-lucky literary romp like my last read. It’s the story of a few seriously lost souls traveling from Paris to Spain drinking like fishes, smoking like chimneys, and sleeping with all of their friends. To put it another way: running with the bulls through the streets of Pamplona is probably the healthiest and most sensible thing these characters do. But at its heart, The Sun Also Rises is a book about falling in and out of love. Something I’m not unfamiliar with.
Eventually, as I inch my way closer to the book’s conclusion, I hear the return of my roommates as they spill into the house after what sounds like a very intoxicating night. By the sound of it, both Cait and Brie have made their way home tonight, so my fears are abated, although only slightly, for the time being.
By the time I get up the next morning, Brie is long gone, Cait is still sound asleep, and Declan’s bag is packed, his inflatable bed is deflated, and he’s sitting all alone at the kitchen table stuffing his mouth with Frosted Flakes.
He smiles when he sees me and with a mouthful, he mumbles a barely intelligible, “Morning, Sunshine.” Droplets of milk drip from the corner of his mouth, which he wipes with the back of his hand.
Still exhausted, I grunt something meaningless in return and pour myself a big glass of orange juice. Between yawns, I ask, “You’re up early. Big plans?”
“Nah, it’s Sunday. I have to get back into the city . . . work tomorrow. The parkway’s going to be a nightmare and I thought I’d get an early start.”
Now that summer is in full swing, traffic is sure to be heavy. On Friday, southbound lanes are packed with weekend travellers heading down to the shore. But on Sunday, the northbound lanes are filled with cars headed back up to the cities and back to work. Declan is right – if he doesn’t want to get stuck sitting in traffic, he should definitely leave soon.
Sitting down across from him, I can’t help but ask a few questions about last night. “So, how was Johnny Mac’s? Did everyone have a good time?”
He lifts up the bowl and gulps down what’s left of his soupy breakfast. “Yeah, we had a blast. Would have been better if you were there, though.”
I shrug. There’s not much to say and no point in making up some lame excuse. Declan knows me too well for that.
He walks over to the sink and while rinsing out his bowl, he tells me over his shoulder, “I met Cole last night.”
“That’s nice.”
“He seems like a good guy.” He sits beside me and swings my chair around so I’m facing him eye-to-eye. “This jock really has you tied up in knots, doesn’t he?”
Again, I shrug.
Declan waits patiently for me to say something.
“How did you know?” I ask.
“I’m not an idiot,” he tells me. “But just so we’re clear, your man didn’t give any woman within a ten-mile radius a second look. Any idea why?”
“How should I know? And just for the record, he’s not my man.”
“I know he’s not – technically. But that doesn’t matter, does it?”
I shake my head. “Listen, Dec – I’m just starting to get my shit together. TitleWave is starting to make money – really good money. I’ve worked too hard to start my life all over again to just throw it away and hook up with a baseball player. What if a photographer takes a picture of us together and publishes it? I can’t take the chance. Paul’s not going to be locked up forever. In fact, he doesn’t have much time left. The last thing I want . . . the last thing I need . . . is for him to spot my picture, put the pieces of the puzzle together, and come find me.”
I walked away from a life in the public’s eye. I’m not about to risk it all for a nice guy with a cute smile, no matter how much he gets my panties in a twist.
“Kensington Harper – you’re young, talented, beautiful, and smart as a whip. When you’re ready, men will be lined up at your doorstep and you know it. I think that for now, you should keep him firmly in the friend zone. If he’s not willing to be your friend, then he’s not really that nice of a guy.”
He’s right, of course. Maybe we can be friends. He may turn out to be a pretty good one to have around.
I throw my arms around his neck and squeeze. “You really are amazing. You always know just the right thing to say to make me feel better. Wouldn’t it be so much easier if we were attracted to one another?”
“So much easier,” he agreed. “But alas, you are immune to my charms.”
“And you to mine.” I sigh dramatically.
Declan chuckles and puts his strong arm around my waist.
“One day, you’ll meet someone you can stand to commit to, and I’ll meet someone who’s worth my time.”
“Oh, you dreamer you.” He smiles and releases me.
I scurry upstairs to get ready for work as Declan quietly slips out of the house and begins the arduous drive back to the city.
I arrive at TitleWave and slip in through the rear entrance. The bookstore is separated from the coffee shop by a folding glass wall. Sometimes, when she can, Brie opens up the doors and allows customers to browse and make purchases.
But not today.
As soon as I sneak a peek into the coffee shop, I know why – there’s a long line of customers that s
tretches across the shop and out the door. It’s a beautiful Sunday morning and I’ll bet it’s been like this for the last few hours. She probably hasn’t had a break since she opened.
Sunlight is streaming in from the beach, lighting up the bookstore just enough for me to manage without turning on the lights. A few more private minutes would be welcome. It gives me an opportunity to straighten up the bookshelves and go through last night’s receipts without interruption.
Once the line dies down a bit, I get a direct view of outdoor tables and I spot our regular morning visitor, Cole McGuire. He’s sitting alone reading the paper as usual. At this distance, the finer details are lost to me. But I don’t need to see the sparkle in his eye or the dimple in his cheek to know that both are there.
I think it’s time to act like a storeowner and not a horny teenager. There are potential customers here and I need to open up the bookstore and take advantage.
I walk over to open up the entrance, only to find that the large folding glass doors seem to be stuck. I pull on them with all my might, but I can only get them to move a few inches – a foot at the most. I wedge myself between them and push in one direction with my arms and the other with my feet. They move another inch.
I push with all my might until I feel a pair of eyes staring down at me. Feeling immediately flustered and slightly embarrassed, I turn to find Cole walking straight towards me. Against my will, my eyes follow him, taking in every inch.
Surely, there’s nothing wrong with admiring beauty when I see it – so long as admiration doesn’t turn to seduction. Throwing my shoulders back, I stand up straight and smile with more confidence than I am feeling. “Good morning Cole.”
“It is a good morning. Can I give you a hand with that?” he asks grinning.
I give it another shove just for good measure, but it’s no use. I can’t make it budge. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it,” I tell him, stepping away to give him room to work.
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