Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  All too soon, our unspoken conversation is interrupted by my mother’s voice. She’s calling up the stairs that Philip and Megan are here.

  We hurry down just as the three of them arrive. Cole is politely welcoming my brother and his wife, while I swipe the baby from Megan’s arms. He stretches out his little arms and opens his mouth wide with a big, heavy yawn. “Hey there, little man. How was the ride? Did you sleep?”

  Megan begins to unpack her diaper bag and refrigerate the bottles she brought. “You know he did. The minute your brother started up the engine, his eyes closed and we haven’t heard a peep from him the whole ride.”

  “Hi, there! Do you want to go for a walk?” I pace around the living room with Connor. “Say hi to Uncle Cole.” I wave his little hand at him. Cole is forever smiling at me.

  “Where’s my little buddy?” My father asks for his grandson. “Come to Grandpa!” He snatches the little guy out of my arms.

  We all move into the family room, and Megan sets up a little play area on a blanket on the floor for her son.

  My mother and father are pleasantly distracted by the appearance of Connor. So I suggest the four of us get a little sun, along with a healthy separation from my mother, and go for a swim.

  “Um, Kenny – I don’t mean to state the obvious, but I didn’t bring any swim trunks,” Cole reminds me.

  “No need, I packed for both of us while you were in the shower. Run out to the car and get our bag. You’ll see.”

  The backyard is covered with big, old trees, mostly oak, but a few pine, magnolias, and cherry trees dot the perimeter also.

  The pool has every bell and whistle my mother could talk my father into buying. It’s got a heater, keeping the water at a comfortable ninety degrees. There’s a waterfall that serves no actual purpose, and an attached hot tub.

  I must confess, I’ve gotten a lot of use and enjoyment out of the hot tub. So did Philip, especially during his high school years on the soccer team.

  It’s quite refreshing to sit in the hot tub and once the heat is almost too much, take a plunging dive right into the pool. It’s shocking and exhilarating at the same time. It was a great place to gather, which we did often. My friends and Philip’s friends, we all mixed and mingled here happily many summers.

  Megan and I gather up a few towels and ask the guys to meet us poolside. We pull together a few lounge chairs and crank up some music. Megan has worked very hard to rid herself of her pregnancy weight and is more than happy to show off her beach-ready body, sporting a simple black and white bikini. She’s my role model.

  I decide against my string bikini and opt for one with a little more fabric. If I showed up at my parent’s house wearing the same revealing bikini I wore on the boat with Cole and Derek, I’d never hear the end of it.

  Cole and Philip are laughing carelessly when they step out into the backyard with us. Megan stops talking and just stares at the shirtless vision of Cole as he casually strolls toward us. He has broad shoulders, narrow hips, and his abdominal muscles ripple as he walks. He really is stunning.

  His trunks are hanging off his hips in that way that makes every little cell in my body stand up and take notice. He gazes at me impassively, then smirks and comes to stand beside me.

  Cole gives me a quick little peck on the top of my head and dives right into the pool. He moves with the magnificent grace of a trained athlete. Every bone and muscle are moving at his will and under his command.

  He swims right over to the hot tub and tests the temperature. “Kenny?” he calls to me.

  “It’s ready. Go ahead in!” I call back.

  Cole heaves himself up and plops himself down, positioning himself so the jets are working optimally to give his muscles a pounding massage.

  “Need anything?” I ask.

  “A cold beer would be great. If it’s not too much trouble, babe.”

  “No problem. I’ll be right –”

  “No need. Here you go.” My mother appears on the patio with a tray full of refreshments. Always the consummate hostess. “Fresh lemonade for the girls and ice cold beer for the boys. Cole, I have to warn you to go slow. The heat of the hot tub doesn’t mix well with alcohol. Isn’t that right, Philip?”

  She will never let him live it down. He and his friends made the mistake of sitting for too long in the hot tub while drinking too many beers. They got drunk, sick, and dehydrated all at the same time. Parents were called. It was a nightmare. And my mother never fails to bring it up whenever she can.

  Ignoring her, Philip grabs the beers from the tray, pops the tops, and lowers himself into the hot tub across from Cole. They waste no time in dissecting last night’s game and Cole’s homerun. They can talk about sports for hours. And that’s exactly what they do.

  It takes a while for Megan to stop her incessant staring at my boyfriend, but once she does and relaxes, we have a very nice visit. She’s starting to look for daycare centers for Connor, but it’s not going well. I think it says more about her not wanting to send him than it does about the facilities she’s visited.

  My mother calls to us through the kitchen window, “Start drying off. It’s time for dinner.”

  We are gathered at the dinner table when my mother starts the interrogation. I had expected to be grilled with questions about our relationship, but she seems to be more interested in getting to know Cole.

  He tells them about growing up in Maine, his experience in the minors, and his current position with the Red Hawks. My parents ask a lot of questions about his future prospects and how long he expects to be with the team. My mother would like to know what kind of a future he has planned after his baseball career ends. Because being a baseball player isn’t enough. At least in her eyes it’s not.

  Cole perseveres through it all like a pro. He turns the tables on them and gets them to share stories about my childhood. I have to sit through my mother regaling us with stories about how young I was when I learned how to read and write. “Remarkable,” she says. “By the time Kensington started kindergarten, she was reading chapter books.”

  I look over at Cole and smile. He did it, he’s won them over. At least for now, and frankly, that’s more than I expected.

  CHAPTER 31

  FOR ONE FULL WEEK, THERE ARE NO GAMES and no practices. It’s All Star week, symbolically marking the halfway point in the season. We quickly develop a routine. We spend our nights together at Cole’s condo. Sleep in late. Eat a light breakfast. Lounge around the house wearing as little clothing as possible. Leave the townhouse by noon.

  I curl up on the couch under Cole’s protective arm as he watches Sports Center. There’s a little discussion about the final rounds of Wimbledon before the All Star deliberation begins. Apparently, there is much to debate about the selection process – who’s overrated and who’s been overlooked.

  And it doesn’t take long before they mention ‘Ole King Cole, as they have come to call him. He watches and listens unfazed by their criticisms and their praise. Not surprisingly, there’s quite a bit of both. It’s strange to sit here in his arms as pictures of him looking deliciously handsome in his baseball uniform appear on screen.

  “That’s it,” he proclaims, jumping off the couch and sweeping me up in his arms. “Enough of this bullshit.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask, although frankly, I really couldn’t care less so long as he’s the one taking me there.

  “Shower first. Food second.”

  I sip on my blackberry lemonade while I wait for Brie to warm up some sandwiches for us. It’s July’s Flavor of the Month, and I will miss it when it gets replaced.

  I glance over at Cole, sitting at our table on the boardwalk with hardly a care in the world. He’s wearing a ball cap and sunglasses, along with an old tee and board shorts as he reads the paper. But no amount of clothing can hide his raw male beauty, his flat stomach, defined pecs, and toasty bronze skin.

  “Let’s go out tonight,” I suggest as I hand Cole his sandwich. It’s our
fourth uninterrupted day together. We’ve spent our days hanging out here at TitleWave and our nights behind closed doors and under the sheets.

  “I’m in!”

  Cole and I look up to find Cait slowly pulling out a chair to join us. She’s got a cup of iced latte and her large dark sunglasses cover half her face.

  “Rough night?” Cole asks as he puts down the paper.

  “Rough, raw, hot, dirty. I don’t know. Kenny, you’re the writer. What words would you use?”

  “Loud.” Brie plops herself down to join us. “I’m no writer, but loud and noisy are the words I would pick.”

  Cait waves off Brie. “Just ignore her. She’s jealous because she doesn’t know what a great orgasm sounds like.”

  “Cait, if you’re rating an orgasm based on the sounds you make, you’re doing it wrong. You have to feel it. In every ounce of your being.”

  “Bullshit. Men are primates. They have no idea what they’re supposed to be doing most of the time. If you don’t make any noise, how is he supposed to know if he’s on the right track? You have to let him know what’s happening. Silence is the ultimate mood killer.”

  Cole hides behind his newspaper, hoping to insulate himself from the uncomfortable conversation that’s taking place.

  Brie rolls her eyes. “I have two words for you – multiple orgasm.”

  Personally, I think they’re both wrong. “I don’t know, Brie. If you’re really in the moment and not worrying about what you should or shouldn’t do, the words and sounds just . . . happen. Don’t you think?”

  Cole chokes on the lemonade he’s drinking.

  Ignoring him, I continue. “Wild sex tends to turn into loud sex pretty quickly.”

  Brie is not buying it. “Loud sex is just a sign that you’re faking it. Putting on a show. Women who do it are just trying to speed things along and get it over with. I can think of a lot of things we women do that may not necessarily give us pleasure but gets men off.”

  Cait says aloud what I know we are all thinking. “Can anyone say, blowjob?”

  Cole puts down the paper and lays down the law. “Seriously, girls, you have to shut up! We’re in public. Can’t you find something else to talk about?”

  Cait and Brie stare at him quizzically for a moment considering his demand. Brie is the first to crack a smile, followed immediately behind by Cait. “He’s a moaner, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely. Maybe even a howler. I bet he says her name over and over again, too.”

  “Okay. You win.” Cole abruptly stands up, pushing his chair back and tossing his napkin onto the table. He leans over and kisses me on the top of my head. “Call me when you decide what tonight’s plans are. I’m hitting the gym.”

  My friends giggle conspiratorially.

  “Aw, don’t go,” Cait pleads.

  “We’re sorry,” Brie calls after him.

  “Thanks,” I chide them both. “Now I won’t see him for hours.” I really am disappointed. I’ve enjoyed having him here with me over the last few days. It’s been great to just . . . be.

  “We did you a favor,” Brie interjects.

  “Oh, really?” I challenge.

  “Yes, really,” Cait rebukes. “You haven’t gotten anything done all week. The two of you just sit around playing footsie and making out. There’s bills to pay, paychecks to sign, orders to submit. This place doesn’t run itself, you know.”

  I know she’s right. And sure enough, when I head back to my office, there’s a pile of paperwork to be done. Work that I’ve put off for days. I leave the plans for tonight up to the girls.

  Once I put my head down and get to work, I lose all track of time. It takes me a while, but I finally find a baseball card supplier that doesn’t require a minimum order. Just as I’m about to pick up the phone to place more orders Cait calls looking for me.

  Holy crap – it’s quarter after six! I’m supposed to be ready to go by seven. It looks like we’re going to get a little bit of a late start tonight. I hate to be late. My mother used to say that five minutes early is ten minutes late. So I hop into the car and quickly head home to shower and change, hoping that I haven’t done too much damage to everyone’s plans.

  I arrive home and see that Ugly Betty isn’t here yet, so I mustn’t be terribly late. I rush upstairs to shower. Yesterday, Cole and I got a couple’s massage and I got waxed . . . everywhere. So it doesn’t take me long to shampoo, rinse, and repeat.

  When I hurry back into my room to dress, I find that my clothes have been laid out on the bed for me.

  Cait.

  I should give her a big hug. She’s read my mind. She knows that I would probably stand in front of my closet for an eternity hemming and hawing about what to wear. And to top it off, she’s selected an outfit that I would have never thought to combine. She chose my oldest, comfiest pair of washed out jeans, replete with holes and tears and matched it with a top from her closet. A simple black tank top with a crocheted hem, an elegant neckline, and a buttoned keyhole in the back. I try it on and discover that it barely skims the waistband of my jeans, revealing just a hint of my freshly tanned tummy.

  I’m comfy and yet I feel sexy at the same time. With the hardest part done, I finish getting ready in a snap. Blow dry hair. Pull on Keds. Apply lip gloss. Mascara. Grab purse.

  Voila!

  A new record has been set. It’s only five minutes after seven when I make it down the stairs. I don’t care what anyone says, I think this is a rare achievement for all womankind.

  Cait and Brie are gathered around the kitchen table, sharing a bottle of Chardonnay. They have a third glass waiting for me, and waste no time filling it and handing it over. That’s when I notice it. All three of us are wearing black tops and blue jeans.

  “Selfie!” Cait pronounces.

  So the three of us squeeze together with a wine glass in one hand and smile for the camera Cait holds out in front of us. We take turns making all kinds of silly faces.

  Cait fumbles with her phone and I can’t help but remind her, “No Instagram.”

  “I know, I know. Only Snapchat,” she answers.

  I’ve gotten very cautious about publishing my image. There are no images of me on the TitleWave website or anywhere else. Only happy customers.

  Just then, the door swings open and in walks Declan with a big smile on his face. “I made it!” he proclaims. “Look at the three of you. What a bunch of hot babes.”

  “I know, right?” Cait preens.

  “And look at you, beautiful. You’re going to cause some trouble tonight.”

  Just as I’m about to say something, Declan pushes past me and grabs Brie by the hand and spins her around. “Wow. You’re pulling all the stops out tonight.”

  He’s right, of course. She’s wearing a pair of dark denim jeans and a black halter with a deep cut V that shows off her perfectly toned arms. All that yoga has really paid off.

  She blushes.

  “Who’s the lucky man?” he asks.

  “It was supposed to be Joe, but he cancelled on me. So it looks like it’s all for you, Mister Man.”

  “You’d be in so much trouble tonight if you weren’t my sister’s best friend.”

  Wait. What did he just say? That’s what he usually says to me.

  He turns to find me staring open-mouth like a large mouth bass. He releases Brie and grabs me by the arm pulling me in for a hug as he whispers in my ear, “Jealous much?”

  “What? No. Why would you say that?”

  “No reason,” he grins as he releases me.

  And I brush off whatever it is that just happened.

  Cole walks in looking edible, as usual. He deposits his keys into the bowl by the front door and joins us in the kitchen. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me off my feet.

  “Don’t worry about it. Our ride’s not here yet,” Brie answers.

  “Our ride?” I ask. This is the first I’m hearing of it. “Who’s driving and why
do we need a ride?”

  Beep. Beep.

  “You’ll see. He’s here. Time to go!” Cait pushes everyone out the door.

  Parked in front of the house is my brother, sitting in a police cruiser. He doesn’t drive one anymore, so he must have borrowed it from a patrolman.

  “Phil? What’s up?” I ask as he opens the back door for us. “Are we riding in this?”

  “Yup. Get in. Four in the back, one in front with me.”

  Cait chimes in first. “I call shotgun!”

  Cole and Declan climb in first, leaving no room for anyone else. We have no choice but to sit on their laps. Since I’m sitting with Cole, that leaves Dec’s lap for Brie.

  Philip slams the door shut and hops into the front seat.

  “Okay, out with it – somebody tell me where we’re going.”

  “To the river beach at Windward. It’s Summerfest and the Nerds are playing tonight. We’re going to a concert in the park.” Brie explains. “It’s going to be great. There’s even going to be fireworks.”

  Cole is nibbling on my shoulder as he snakes his hand under the back of my shirt and caresses the bare skin on my back. I try my best to hold a normal conversation with such a strong distraction to contend with.

  “That sounds great, but why the police escort?”

  “Only emergency vehicles are allowed entrance to the park. Everyone else parks around town and gets shuttled in on a school bus,” Cait explains. “Although it would be hilarious to watch Cole try to squeeze his ass into a seat intended for teenage boys, I figured this might be better.”

  “I just had to call in a few favors and here we are,” Philip explains. “But it’s just this one time. Don’t think this is going to become a weekly thing.”

  Brie agrees. “We were hoping you could hook us up with a parking permit or something but this is so much better.”

  “What time are you coming back to pick us up?” I ask my brother.

  “Coming back?” he answers. “I’m staying. I dropped off Megan right before I picked you guys up. She picked out a spot for us.”