He turns around, grinning. “He’s not your boyfriend, so I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“That’s not the point, Dec,” I insist.
“Oh, I think it is the point. I’ll stop messing with you two when you pull your heads out of your asses and end this stupid game, already.” He stares me down and adds, “I’ll get serious when you get serious.”
I drop my arms and sigh. Damn it, I hate when he’s right. “Well, I guess you’ll be happy to hear that Cole is taking me out Thursday.”
“Out? Like on a real date?” he asks, eyes wide.
I nod.
Declan smiles. “It’s about freaking time.” He tosses a wet sponge at me that hits me square in the chest. “Now, can we get back to washing my car before the soap dries and we have to start all over again?”
I pick up the sponge, dip it into the soapy bucket, and rejoin Declan. I can never stay mad at him for long.
Still focused on the task at hand, Declan calls to me over his shoulder, “You know, kiddo, you’re forgetting one very important thing you have to take care of before this big date.”
Curious, I ask, “Yeah? What’s that?”
“You’re going to have to tell your brother.” He chuckles. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall when that happens.”
Shit. Right again.
For the rest of the day, my mind wanders between fanciful thoughts of Cole and worrisome feelings toward Phillip.
Cole has a double header today. That means he’s at the field early and won’t return to his hotel until late. I don’t expect to hear from him much. But that’s the thing about expectations. When someone exceeds them, the smallest acts become the grandest gestures. I get a text from him after his morning warm-up practice, a call from him in the locker room between games, and a late night phone call that lasts much longer than it probably should.
By Wednesday, I’m really starting to miss seeing Cole. I enjoy our morning and evening phone calls, but I cannot wait to be in the same room with him again. I miss the way he makes faces as he reads the paper. I miss the way he smells after his morning shower. I miss the way he slips his long legs under mine while we eat breakfast. But most of all, I miss the feeling I get when I see him for the first time each day.
But I know I won’t have much longer to wait. He’s flying in late tonight and tomorrow I will have my breakfast partner returned to me.
Now there’s only one thing left to do . . . pull up my big girl panties and go have a chat with my overprotective big brother. Tonight is family dinner night, so I guess there’s no time like the present.
Having a detective for a brother has paid off in spades. He’s come to my rescue in my greatest hour of need and he’s kept me safe and out of harm’s way. Together, we have made some very difficult decisions and I haven’t always been happy about those choices, but I allowed logic to prevail over emotions. And I have a successful business and a beautiful home to show for it.
Philip has told me more than once that the smart thing to do is to run a background check on any potential boyfriends. I have no problem allowing him to do that. But I have a feeling that no matter what his history reveals, Philip is going to do everything in his power to stop me from starting a serious relationship with Cole.
If my Spidey senses are right, my brother is going to try to prevent me from having even a casual relationship with Cole. He will tell me it’s for my own good, but I honestly don’t see how staying away from Cole will make my life better.
In fact, I’m quite certain it will only end up making me miserable.
Now all I have to do is convince my brother to agree with me. And that is much easier said than done.
But Philip is no different from most men in one regard – once properly plied with good food and alcohol, my chances of success increase exponentially.
So just to be safe, I make two quick stops on the way to Philip’s house. First, I stop by the grocery store to visit their bakery department and select a fresh-baked strawberry shortcake. It’s Philip’s absolute favorite. My second stop is at the liquor store where I grab a chilled six-pack of his favorite craft beer.
When I arrive, Megan is standing at the front door waiting for me. “Shh . . . Connor’s still napping. Either he’s getting sick or he’s teething. He’s been up crying for most of the day.” Poor Megan, she looks wiped out herself.
We make the short trek to the back of the house and into the kitchen where Megan is putting the finishing touches on a simple garden salad. The house is strangely quiet and I don’t see my brother anywhere in sight as I set out my cake. “Where’s Philip?”
Megan turns to look at me and just now notices the beer in my hand and the cake on the table. “Oh, looks like somebody’s trying to butter up her big brother. He’s around back grilling the steak. Why don’t you run a beer out to him?”
“Good idea.” Phase one initiated.
Philip is sitting quietly on the deck staring intently at his phone screen. I walk up behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. Without looking up, he asks, “Hey, hon – how about something cold to drink?”
“Sure thing, but I don’t think Meg would like it if she heard you call me hon,” I tease as I hand him an ice-cold bottle.
“Hey, there – sorry about that. Didn’t realize it was you.” He stands up and gives me a kiss on the forehead as he takes the beer from my hand. “I was a little preoccupied.”
I pull out a chair and sit beside him. “Oh, yeah? Anything interesting?”
“I think so. It looks like the Red Hawks are doing great on the road this week. They swept the Marlins and it looks like they might do the same in Cleveland. Tonight’s game should be a good one.” He looks down at his watch. “The game should start soon, I think.”
“Yeah – they started warming up about forty-five minutes ago.” Philip looks at me quizzically. How could I possibly explain knowing that? Shit.
I jump up from my seat and make a lame excuse about needing to help Megan in the kitchen. Philip just rolls his eyes and shrugs his shoulders. “Thanks for the beer,” he calls out to me as I rush back into the house.
I plop myself at the kitchen table, and place my head in my hands. I don’t know how I’m going to pull this off.
Megan takes one look at me and sits down across from me. “What did he say this time?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I confess. “Absolutely nothing.”
This is going to be harder than I had thought. I think I need to close ranks and enlist the help of my sister-in-law.
I sit up a little straighter in my chair and square my shoulders. “Um, Megan – how would you feel about plotting against Philip and teaming up with me?”
Fast as a whip, she answers, “I’m in.”
Wow – that was easy. “But I haven’t even told you the mission yet,” I chuckle.
“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me what you need me to do.” Megan seems to be coming back to life right before my eyes. She’s wide awake now and eager to play her role, despite having no clue what our objective is.
Almost in a conspiratorial whisper, as if our conversation can be overheard, she leans in and asks, “Does it have something to do with Cole McGuire?”
I smile just at hearing his name. “It does.”
“You really like him, don’t you?”
I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. “Is it that obvious?”
“Every time you talk about him, you light up. I’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to notice.”
“Cole wants to take me out tomorrow night, just the two of us.”
Megan perks up immediately. “That’s great. Where are you going? What does he have planned? Oh, my God! Are you excited?”
“I can’t be excited. Not yet, anyway. Given my present situation, I have to run this by Philip first. He’s going to want to do a background check, and . . .”
Megan cuts me off before I can finish my tirade. “I’m sorry – when exactly did Philip beco
me your parent? Because frankly, I’m much too young to be your evil step-mother.”
“True, but how would you like to become my Fairy Godmother and make all my wishes come true?”
She smiles. “That could work. Does that make Cole your Prince Charming?”
“I think it’s a little too soon to say,” I admit with a grin. “But there’s definitely potential.”
Megan insists that we talk fast. There’s not much time before Philip is done grilling. He’s been out there for at least fifteen minutes and it won’t take much longer before he’s done.
We will continue with Phase One – alcohol consumption. We don’t want to get him drunk; that would be irresponsible and counter productive because when he sobers up, he will be doubly angry. We just want him to be content. And there are few things more satisfying than an ice-cold beer on a hot summer’s day.
The two of us begin to scurry around the kitchen, setting the table, plating the salad, and setting the stage. I put a beer mug in the freezer to chill so that his next cold one will be chilled to perfection.
“Want to play the ‘What If’ game while we wait for Philly to come back in?” Megan asks.
“God, I hate that game, but go ahead,” I reluctantly agree.
“Suppose no matter how hard we try, we just don’t get Philip to soften to the idea of starting this relationship right now? Do you cancel with Cole and walk away?”
Slowly, I shake my head. “It’s too late for that,” I admit. “I don’t think I could do that even if I wanted to. Cole would find me.”
“Exactly what I thought.”
I turn to face Megan. “Now it’s my turn to play. And the name of this game is ‘What’s Up With That’.”
“I already know how this game works, so go ahead,” she teases.
“Why are you so eager to help me? I mean, this could all blow up in our faces. I get to go home if it does, but you have to stay here. You’re married to him.”
She laughs softly. “Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, my life is a little boring at the moment. These McGuire boys are the most exciting thing to happen around here in a long time. I can’t help it if their lives seem more thrilling and glamorous than ours. And if I can’t experience it myself, why not experience it through the next best thing . . . you?”
“Are you nuts? You must have read too many romance novels.” We both break out in laughter, mostly because the romance novels she’s been reading have been mine.
“Can I ask you a question?” Megan asks.
“Anything. Shoot.”
“Is he as delicious in person as I imagine?”
“Meg – you have no idea,” I mutter. “But it’s not just his good looks – I’ve met tons of pretty faces. He’s different. I can’t explain it. We just . . . click. He’s the first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing I think about at night.”
“Do you think he feels the same way?” she asks.
“I guess I’ll find out tomorrow. He’s taking me out on our official first date.”
Megan looks at me with an odd expression. “Can you really call it a first date if you’ve already had a private dinner at his place and gone on what I can only describe as a double date just a week ago? Notice I’m not even mentioning the fact that you’ve already slept with him.”
“I don’t care what you say, it is our first real date.”
“Let me ask you something. Did he pay for your dinner both times?”
I nod.
“Did he pick you up and drop you off?”
He did pick me up for our ocean adventure. So again, I nod.
“Then it was a date.”
I shrug. Let her say what she wants. They were not dates.
Before I can argue the point, Philip comes bursting into the kitchen with his arms full. Megan and I race to help him. He notices the strawberry shortcake sitting in plain sight on the dinner table. With one finger, he takes a swipe of the cream and licks his finger clean. “Mm, good. What’s the occasion?”
Oh, God. Now he’s suspicious. “No occasion,” I brush him of. “You’ve been so good to me lately, I thought I might return the favor. That’s all.”
Philip smirks and Megan intercedes. “No cake until after dinner. Come on you two, let’s eat while it’s still hot.”
I offer to get Philip a fresh beer. I walk over to the table with the beer in one hand and an icy mug in the other. I place them both in front of him and smile.
He immediately pours himself a glass and takes a refreshing taste. “Nice.”
Megan plays her part well and tries to keep the conversation light during dinner, but I just can’t focus. All I can think about is what I’m going to say and when I’m going to say it. And how will he react? I play it over and over in my mind.
Megan elbows me, shaking me from my mind wandering. “Kenny, am I right?”
“Yeah. Right. Sorry. Wait. What are we talking about?”
Megan rolls her eyes. The teacher in her can’t stand it when I don’t pay attention. “We were talking about painting the living room gray. I can’t stand looking at those beige walls for one more day. What do you think?”
I take a quick glance around the room. “Gray. Sure. That’d be great.”
“So now you’re ganging up on me?” my brother whines. “If I agree, does that mean you two are going to paint it?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Megan laughs, which makes Philip laugh, too. “You’d just have to pay someone to come in and clean up after us, anyway.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he chuckles.
“I can give you guys the name of my guy. He did a great job stripping down all that horrible wallpaper throughout my house and painting every single wall in every single room.”
Megan interrupts me. “Oh! I forgot about him. He was adorable. Wait . . . don’t tell me his name. It has something to do with an old song, right?”
I nod. “It’s a really old song,” I tell her.
Philip takes a wild guess. “Is his name Bobbie McGee?”
Megan and I look at him with a glazed look in our eyes. In unison, we both ask, “What???”
“You know that old song, Me and Bobbie McGee. I think Janis Joplin sang that song.”
“Um, no,” I answer.
“How about . . . Leroy Brown?” He studies my face for a reaction. “Is your painter’s name Leroy Brown?”
“Philip, I don’t think your sister hired a guy named Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown,” Megan argues. “I’m pretty sure it was Mickey.”
We both look at her questioningly, so she sings us a few bars. “Oh, Mickey you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind. Hey, Mickey.”
I shake my head. “Okay, so this is a game now, huh? Well, then – here’s a hint . . . the song’s not from the sixties or seventies, Philly. And it’s not from the eighties, either. Sorry, Meg.”
My brother and sister-in-law stare each other down. This has become a challenge – a war of imaginations.
Suddenly, Megan jumps up out of her seat. “I got it! You hired the Real Slim Shady to paint your bathroom, didn’t you?”
Once the laughter dies down, I put an end to this silly little guessing game. “You guys are hysterical. Sorry to disappoint, but his name is Bill Bailey.”
The three of us sing a rousing rendition of “Won’t You Come Home, Bill Bailey” as we enjoy our dinner. Before Megan and I can even finish eating our meal, Philip slices off a big hunk of the strawberry shortcake and digs in.
With Philip properly plied with alcohol and amusement, I decide that I may as well strike while the iron is hot. “Hey, Phil – guess who’s been coming into the coffee shop almost every morning?”
He takes a sip of beer and thinks for a moment. “Great, another guessing game,” he answers sarcastically.
Megan moves the conversation along, knowing full well where this is leading. “Is it someone famous?”
“Definitely not famous. But it is someone that you might know, Phi
lip. Cole McGuire, the rookie from the Red Hawks has become a regular. Did you know he owns a townhouse on the boardwalk?”
“Actually, he doesn’t own it. Evan and Juliette McGuire bought the property a while ago,” he corrects me. “Cole moved in in April.”
“Wow – how do you know so much?” I ask, dumbstruck.
“We’ve had to put out extra patrols around the property when he moved in. Standard procedure for a high profile resident.” He sits back in his chair, rubbing his head. “Those McGuire boys have turned our small town upside down. Since their arrival, we’ve had to hire additional patrolmen to the force. Where ever they go, trouble seems to follow.”
“Trouble?” I repeat, saddened. “Has Cole caused any trouble? He really doesn’t seem the type.”
Philip shrugs his shoulders. “No. Not yet. But believe me – it’s just a matter of time.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I answer. “I’ve gotten to know Cole fairly well and I can honestly say that you couldn’t be more wrong about him.”
“Gotten to know him? As in Cole McGuire?” he asks incredulously.
“I have.”
“Do NOT tell me that Cole McGuire is the new friend that you’ve been spending time with,” Philip warns.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” This is not going as I had hoped.
“Disappointed doesn’t begin to describe how I’m feeling right now. When he and Evan go out together, it’s news. Did you once stop to think about what might happen if you two were spotted out together?”
“Of course I have – I’m not an idiot, you know,” I huff.
“No one is calling you an idiot, Kenny,” Megan tries to calm the situation.
Philip isn’t backing down. “How do you plan to continue carrying on like this and maintain a low profile at the same time?”
“I must be doing something right because I’ve been seeing Cole casually for the past month and you never even knew.” Ha! He can chew on that for a while.
“You would knowingly put yourself in danger just to spend time with that boy?” he pushes.
“That man is not a boy!” Megan interjects. By the look on Philip’s face, I’d say he’s not pleased with her input.
Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1) Page 18
