The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella (184 page)

“What the hell are you doing?” Adam asks.  He seems both annoyed and amused at the same time.

“Sending Reese a text,” I explain.

“She’s right there,” he quips.  “Can’t you just go talk to her?”

“Well, yeah – but first I had to send her this.”  I show him the magnificent picture I captured of Drake’s behind.  I got it from the ideal angle, too. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he gripes.  “Did you seriously just take a picture of that man’s ass?” his lips curl in amusement.

“Adam, this is Drake Heyworth we’re talking about.  There’s not a woman on the planet who doesn’t think he’s hot.”

I know I should feel bad, but honestly, I don’t.  Not even a tiny bit.  Although the tiny pout on his face is pathetically endearing. 

Adam holds out his cell, angling it towards us. “You want a picture? Well, I want a picture, too,” he utters close to my lips. “Look at the camera and smile, baby.” After he captures our smiles, he captures my mouth.

His hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my head. His kiss consumes me. The moment his tongue brushes and swirls with mine, I feel tingles all the way down to my panties.

“I love you,” I purr, drifting my hands into the back of his pants and over his amazing sculpted ass.

And then someone bumps into me on purpose. “Hey! No making out.”  I look over into the goofy, disapproving face of Derek.  “If you two are going to carry on like this, I guess I’ll have to deliver your drinks, as usual.”  He grabs the pitcher of Texas Tea.  “Where’s this one going?”

“Football wives, Table Five,” I tell him.

We join our friends back at the table where the girls have nearly finished a whole pitcher of my Texas Tea.  Reese looks at her phone, examines the photo I sent her, and looks at me.  “Emmy, what’s this?” she asks.

“Turn around,” I tell her.

She looks over towards the door and spots him – Drake Heyworth.  “Oh, my God,” she drools.  “He is so freaking hot.”

Marcus and Adam roll their eyes.  “I don’t see it,” Marcus counters.

Of course, Drake is a fine specimen of man. That tattoo sleeve he’s sporting on his right arm is particularly bad-ass.

“Stop ogling strange men,” Adam growls in my ear.

“I’m not. I’m appreciating the art on his arm.” 

Hand-in-hand, Evan and Jette wander over, joining our growing group.  “Who has art on his arm?” Jette asks, trying to catch up on our conversation.

I tilt my chin in the general direction of Drake.

Jette hums appreciatively.  “Oh, yeah – he sure does.”

With one arm, Evan grabs a hold of Jette’s chair and scoots it right up against his own.  “If you like tattoos so much, maybe I should go out and get myself one,” he teases.  Evan pulls up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing his hulking bicep.  He slaps the flesh on his arm.  “Right here,” he says.  “How about I get a heart with your name inside it?”

“No way,” I shout before Jette even has a chance to answer.  “Getting Jette's name tattooed on you would just be tempting the Gods of mayhem,” I tell him.  “It’s bad luck.”

“Personally, I don’t believe in bad luck,” Jette argues.  She wraps one arm under his and squeezes tight.  “But I love every piece of you just the way you are.”

Evan leans down and kisses his bride.

“You two need to get a room,” Shea scowls at Evan and Jette as they continue to neck. 

“Come on, they just got married,” Derek waves Shea off. “Let them have fun.”

They break apart and Jette is beaming in glorious happiness.  “Hey, let me see your ring again,” I tell her.

Jette happily holds out her left hand for me to inspect, grinning proudly.

“Did you pick it out by yourself?” Derek asks Evan.

“Yep,” Evan nods.

“He did good,” Jette murmurs and smiles warmly.

“You have good taste.”

“Of course I do,” Evan chuckles and kisses Jette’s cheek.

“And he’s so modest,” Jette shakes her head and pushes her fingers through his hair. 

“Hey, cuz, got room for one more?”  All heads turn to stare at the handsome man who just interrupted our little party.

“Cole!” Evan shouts as he leaps up from his chair and wraps his arms around this big guy. 

I’ve seen Cole a few times here and there, but I really got to know him in Hawaii at the wedding.  Cole is Evan’s younger cousin, but at six foot four, he’s got at least an inch over Evan.  When it comes to good looks and killer bodies, the McGuire family has some pretty amazing genes.

Cole McGuire is raw male beauty, with his flat stomach, defined pecs, and flawless skin.  His towering height and lean muscles fill out the T-shirt and jeans, cutting an undeniably lethal image.

“Ew – stop it!” Jette reprimands me.  “That’s Evan’s little cousin.  Don’t look at him like that.”

I don’t have to say a word.  Reese interjects for me.  “Um, Jette – I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but there’s nothing
little
about Cole McGuire.”

“Seriously – what is he, like ten or twelve months younger than Evan?” Shea argues.

“Gross, how do you guys know so much about him?”

“While you were playing blushing bride, we were hanging out at the bar,” I tell her.

“And on the beach,” Camilla adds.

“And at the pool,” Shea adds.

“And the entire plane ride home,” Reese adds.

Suddenly, out of the blue, Adam stands up on a chair, holding a glass of water and starts loudly tapping on his glass with a spoon.  “Can I please have everyone’s attention,” he shouts.

Quickly, Marcus jumps up out of his seat and rushes behind the bar to mute the television and stereo.  The entire restaurant quiets, anxious to hear Adam has to say.

My heart starts pounding in anticipation.  Reese must feel it too, because she grabs my hand and squeezes.  Holy shit.  Is he going to put me on the spot right here and right now?  My mind is reeling.  How can I say ‘no’ this time?  He would be mortified.

I gaze up at the man I love with all my heart.  He has a smile a mile wide and a gleam in his eye.  All eyes are on Adam now.  He clears his throat and begins to make an announcement. 

“I’m so pleased that you are all here today to share in this special occasion,” he begins.

He pauses as Marcus walks up and hands him a bag.  Adam reaches into the bag and pulls out a Red Hawks hat. “As many of you know, I have recently started a new job with the New Jersey Red Hawks.” 

What the fuck is going on?

“And the best part of my job is when I get to welcome new players to the team.  The Red Hawks would like to extend an invitation to Cole McGuire to join them for spring training.  We think he would be a perfect addition to our starting roster as our new shortstop.”

Holy shit.

Adam hops down off his chair and hands Cole the baseball hat he’s been holding.  Everyone jumps up and congratulates Cole, starting with Evan, who is over the moon excited and proud.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him.

“I almost did – remember?  But you told me you probably couldn’t keep the secret, so...”

“Oh, yeah,” I admit.  That happened.

Evan comes over and interrupts.  “You!” he says, pointing at Adam.  “You are fucking amazing, man!  I don’t know how to thank you.”

Adam grins.  “You don’t have to thank me, Mac.  Cole earned this spot.  Alex and the other directors already had him in their sights.  Spring training starts in two and a half weeks.  He’s going to need somewhere to stay locally and a little help finding a place of his own.  Do you think you can do that for him?” 

“I think I can handle that,” Evan readily agrees.

I’m so proud of Adam.  I grab a hold of him and mentally I’m doing a happy dance of joy.  He wraps an arm around me and pulls me close.  This is his big moment and I’m deliriously happy I was able to share it with him.

Adam and I stand back and enjoy the fuss everyone is making over Cole. 

“Oh, Emmy – this is perfect.  Alex just got here.  Come with me.  I can’t wait to introduce you.  And Cole.”  Adam takes me by the hand and guides me towards the door to meet his new boss.  He waves and calls his name, “Alex, I’m so glad you made it.”

I look around to try and spot Alex, but all I see are football players.  Then, suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I spot a woman walking determinedly towards us.  I stop walking as she gets closer, but Adam doesn’t seem to notice.  He makes a beeline straight towards the perma-tan forty-something year old woman. 

As she turns, she catches sight of Adam and smiles at him, a dazzling smile of warm recognition.  She greets him with obvious affection, kissing both his cheeks, her hands resting on his upper arms, and they talk animatedly together.  She turns and looks at me, and gives me the same dazzling smile, as if she knows me. I smile politely back. 

This woman is tall, tanned, lovely, and in her late thirties or early forties – it’s difficult to tell.  She’s wearing a black dress and tall boots that make her legs look ten feet long.  Her hair is cut in a short, playful shag.

Then it hits me like a wrecking ball, and I know, deep down in my gut on a visceral level, I know who it is.  This stunningly beautiful older woman is Alex.

A
DAM LEADS ALEX
back towards me.  His hand is pressed against her back as he guides her through the maze of tables that separates us.  She has a veneered smile plastered across her face.  Adam leans towards her and tells her something that amuses her.  She nods and laughs as they reach me.  I want to run.  I want to scream.  My Spidey Sense is all a flutter.  This woman is trouble.

Adam leaves her side and stands beside me, grasping my hand.  “Emmy, this is Alex Davenport.  Alex, this is my girlfriend, Emmalyn Atkins.”

In that exact moment I begin to regret not accepting one of Adam’s proposals.  I wish he were introducing me as his fiancée, instead.  Girlfriends come and go.  Girlfriends can be replaced, and often are.  I have no intention of allowing that to happen.

She holds out her hand.  I reach out to accept her handshake, expecting a firm, confident grasp.  Instead, she offers me a
fingerella
fingertip grab in a very lady-like half-hearted greeting.  Without a word she is telling me all I need to know:
I am not interested in you or this situation; I would rather be doing something else; I am pretentious and arrogant
.

“Hello.  It’s so nice to finally meet you.  Adam has told me so much about you, I feel like I already know you.”  Her voice is dripping with condescension.

“Really?  That’s strange.  From the way Adam described you, I had imagined a much older man.  You aren’t at all what I was expecting,” I tell her truthfully.

“I can’t blame you for making certain assumption, dear.  Women aren’t very visible in the world of Major League Baseball and I’ve had more than one colleague make the same mistake.  I suppose having a name like
Alex
doesn’t help much, either.”  This woman doesn’t like me any more than I like her.

“You must be so proud of Adam,” she goes on.  “He’s really made quite an impression at work.” 

I’m sure he has
.

“I’d be proud of Adam no matter where he worked,” I let her know.

I can tell she’s done with me when she focuses her attention back to Adam.  “So, where is the man of the hour?  When do I get to meet our newest player?”

Adam looks towards me, “Emmy, do you mind if I bring Alex down to meet Cole?”

“Of course not,” I tell him.  Adam bends down to give me a kiss, then extends his arm to usher Alex towards the back of the restaurant.  She wraps her long tentacles of an arm around his as if he were her escort for the night.  I have a sudden urge to rip her arm from her body and beat her with it while she watches.

I cautiously follow behind as Adam leads Alex towards our table.  There are several unopened bottles of champagne chilling in an ice bucket and rows of empty champagne glasses, but Cole is nowhere to be seen.  I find Reese and pull her to the side, “Where’s Cole?” I ask.

“Calling his mom,” she explains.  “Isn’t that the most adorable thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Yeah, sure.  Adorable.”

“Hey, who peed in your Cheerios?” Reese asks.  I say nothing.  I just look at Adam.  Reese’s eyes grow wide.  “Who’s the cougar with Melanie Griffith’s old face?”

Holy shit, she’s right!  I burst out laughing.  “That’s Alex.”

“Alex?” she questions me.  “As in old-man, know-it-all, new boss Alex?”

“In the flesh.”

“Well, that did not go as planned.”

“It most certainly did not,” I whole-heartedly agree.  “Alex was supposed to be a boring middle-aged divorced man with a pot belly.  Not a beautiful leggy divorcée with a spray-on tan who can speak Baseballese with the best of them.”

Cole reappears just as the game is about to begin.  He is beaming with excitement.  As he gets closer to our table, I can truly see the similarities between him and Evan.  The broad shoulders, the perfect smile, the crystal blue eyes, and the perfectly chiseled male features.  Cole is wearing a simple white V-neck T-shirt with a pair of Ray Bans hanging from the neck of his shirt.  His thick blonde hair is short on the sides and just unkempt enough on the top to look sexy without any effort.  And of course, he’s been blessed with a single dimple that appears on his left cheek instead of the perfect pair Evan enjoys.