Cole: Red, Hot & Blue, Book 5 (3 page)

They reached her parents’ house, which was dark except for the porch light they’d left on. Cole pulled the car to a stop along the curb and cut the engine.

He turned toward her. “So.”

“So…” She had no idea what to say.

Cole reached over and took her hand in his. “I had a really good time tonight.”

That one statement made her feel infinitely better. “Me too. Um, maybe tomorrow, if you aren’t busy, you could come over?” That sounded so presumptuous she added, “I know Bobby will really want to see you and we’re having a barbecue for my birthday.”

He cringed. “Ah, Lizzie, I wish I could—”

“That’s okay. Really. I only asked because I know you love my father’s barbecue ribs.”

“I do and I’d love to come, but I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Her stomach twisted. “You just got home.”

“I know. My new coach called. He wants me at training camp right away. I probably shouldn’t have even taken the time to come home, but when Dad told me about the car waiting for me I had to.”

“Oh.” Lizzie swallowed the bitter taste in her throat.

“I’m really glad I did come home, and not because of the car either.” Cole squeezed her hands, then pulled her toward him.

Leaning closer in the middle, Cole pressed his lips to hers. His hands tangled in her hair as he tilted his head and took the kiss deeper. He drew in a ragged breath and pulled back. “If I don’t stop now I’m going to be inside you again right in front of your house, which I think would be a really bad idea.”

She didn’t think so. Anything to keep him around a little longer before he left for his big baseball career and she never saw him again.

“Lizzie, after I get settled, do you think your parents would let you come visit me? Maybe with Bobby if they won’t let you come alone.”

“You really want me to visit you?” Her pulse raced.

“Oh yeah.” Cole ran a finger down her face. “Can I call you?”

“Of course.” She nodded.

He smiled. “Good. I’d like that.”

Cole moved closer and his mouth was on hers again. This time she grabbed his head and parted his lips with her tongue. Groaning, he didn’t fight her. Rather, he slid his hands up beneath her shirt, warming her skin with his touch.

She thought about him leaving again and a sob escaped her. She broke the kiss. “Why did this have to happen when you’re leaving so soon?”

“It’s okay. You’ll visit. We’ll talk on the phone. I’ll have email so we can write every day. Maybe I can get home whenever we have a break. It’s not that far. And now I have something to come home for.” His smile stopped her tears.

“And maybe—” Lizzie swallowed hard and gathered her nerve, “—I could go and get birth control pills.”

He smiled and stroked her cheek. “You’d do that?”

She nodded.

“That would be amazing. After feeling you, just you, it would suck to have to use a condom next time.”

Next time.
Lizzie liked the sound of that.

Cole laughed and glanced down. “Look what you did to me.”

She saw the bulge through his jeans and, feeling bold, she ran a finger over it. “I love that I do that to you.”

“Yeah, I kinda do too.” He smiled and covered her hand with his. “I better go before Bobby or your father comes out here looking for you.”

“Okay.” She hated the thought of saying goodbye.

He leaned his head against the seat and stared into her eyes. “Happy Birthday, Lizzie. I’m really glad I got to be here for it.”

“Me too.” More than he could know.

Chapter Three

Present Day

The knot in Cole’s stomach grew tighter the closer he neared Pigeon Hollow. He honestly never thought he’d be back here. Sure, maybe for a visit, but not to live. But his rotator-cuff injury had seen to it that he was back for good. Nothing like losing twenty percent of the range of motion in your pitching arm to end a major league ballplayer’s career.

He shook his head. Perhaps if he had admitted to the pain earlier on, gotten the surgery sooner, it would have been more successful and he could have gotten back to one hundred percent.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, and he’d beaten himself up about it every day since the doctor and the physical therapist both told him this was as good as it was going to get. And then the team had released him from his contract.

So here he was driving back to his parents’ house and the town he’d left behind in the same old convertible he’d left in ten years before. He’d been sentimental and kept the car so long that it had gone from just plain old to classic.

As it turned out, it was a good thing he hadn’t blown all of his savings on overpriced sports cars, because the million dollar contracts were gone, along with his career. He laughed bitterly at the reason why he’d kept the car. It was still hard to admit to himself it was because this car was where he’d made love to Lizzie.

Lizzie, his sweet little girlfriend who had written him literally daily for about a month, then wrote him her last and final email saying goodbye. Broken up with over email. Real sweet.

Not taking that rejection real well, he’d gone out and gotten stinking drunk. Then he’d called her house in the middle of the night and demanded to know why she’d broken up with him. He badgered her until she was hysterical and Bobby had taken the phone away from her and hung up on him.

Cole had vowed then and there, while holding the handset of the payphone attached to the wall in the back of the bar, to forget about Lizzie Barton. Besides, women were constantly throwing themselves at ballplayers. He’d been fending them off well when he’d assumed he and Lizzie were a couple. That they had a future together.

Once she’d squashed that idea, he’d given in to the temptation. The next time a girl had thrown herself at him, he’d taken her up on her offer. That hadn’t worked out so well. The entire time he’d pounded himself into the stranger, he’d pictured Lizzie.

Afterwards he’d gotten a cab home. Once alone he’d cried like a baby, vomited all over the bathroom and then passed out in his clothes.

There’d been women over the years, but nothing too serious. He’d thought he’d succeeded in getting Lizzie out of his mind. He’d been dead wrong on that. Ten years later, coming home to the town full of memories of her, he’d thought of nothing else but Lizzie the whole drive.

Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Something else had crossed his mind. As the
Welcome to Pigeon Hollow
sign came into view, he did have one other thought besides Lizzie, and that was the realization that although he’d left this town a star, he was returning a big old loser.

Lizzie sat on the hard wooden bench and squinted into the sun, trying to distinguish the players on the field. The expected crowd was here, mostly parents cheering their kids on. In front of her were those one or two fathers who insisted on standing along the sidelines yelling advice to the players even though it often contradicted that of the coaches.

The usual twinge of guilt twisted in Lizzie’s gut that her son, Mikey, didn’t have a father here for him. But then Lizzie reminded herself, as she so often did, who
was
cheering for Mikey. He had his Uncle Bobby and his Grandma and Grandpa Barton and of course his mother, who loved him enough for two parents. So all in all, Mikey was probably the luckiest kid on the team.

She watched him step off the pitcher’s mound, take off his cap and wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The sun-bleached blond highlights of his hair glinted in the sun. She laughed to herself. Everyone with Barton blood had dark hair and blue eyes, except Mikey. Instead, he looked just like his father, with his hair the color of wheat and golden brown eyes. Didn’t that just figure?

It always amazed her that the town hadn’t figured out who his father was just by looking at him. The resemblance was so obvious to her. But no one had guessed, so maybe it was her imagination. Of course, why should they suspect it was Cole Ryan? She’d never breathed a word of that one night to a soul, or even told anyone that she was emailing him every day when he’d first gone away. What they had together had been so precious to her, she hadn’t wanted to share it with anyone, not even Anna. As it turned out, it had been a good thing she hadn’t.

Eventually, Bobby had guessed the truth, but that was only because he’d been there the night Cole had called drunk and angry that she’d broken up with him by email. But Bobby didn’t judge her or reprimand her. In fact, they never discussed it again. Bobby had just accepted it and offered her silent support. He’d been there with money and a ride to the abortion clinic in the nearest city. And when she couldn’t go through with it, he’d been there with a strong hand to hold when she’d told her parents she was pregnant but refused to name the father.

Bobby had been there for her then and was still here for her now, acting as surrogate father to her son for things such as coaching little league games. There were just some things moms couldn’t do, and this was one of them as far as Mikey was concerned. She supposed “the talk” would be another one of them. That was probably only two or three years away now that Mikey was almost ten. God, he’d grown up so fast.

She shaded her eyes from the glare and watched Mikey powder his hands, get the feel of the ball and throw another strike. She had to smile. He had his father’s pitching arm too. Those Ryan genes sure were strong. There was barely even an ounce of Barton in Mikey. If she didn’t know she’d given birth to him, she’d wonder if he was really hers.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to afford a good college for her son. Lizzie could practically see the baseball scholarships rolling in. But even so, she worked as many hours at the diner as she could to save up money. And living with her parents rent free helped not only financially, but in the child-care department too.

She’d made a good life for them both, even if she had given up her dream of going to college and becoming a teacher. Mikey would go to college for both of them.

Mikey—actually, Mike—she’d have to remember he didn’t like being called that any longer—struck out the batter and waited for the next one to take his place. In this level of little league, they weren’t allowed to pitch an entire game, but Mike routinely retired every batter during his innings without allowing a single hit.

“Wow. That kid has some arm. Who does he belong to?”

She jumped nearly out of her skin. Although she may not have heard his voice in ten years, there was no mistaking it. She knew she would see him again someday, no avoiding it with his parents still in town, but she’d hoped it would be later rather than sooner. Guessing ten years was probably more reprieve than she should have expected, she turned and looked into the golden brown eyes of Cole Ryan.

She swallowed. “Hi.”

“Hi, Lizzie.” Tilting his head to look at her, he smiled. “You look exactly as I remember you.”

Her heart contracted painfully. She realized even ten years hadn’t erased her feelings for him. No wonder she’d never been able to seriously date anyone else. The teenager inside her still loved Cole. “Thanks. Um, you look great too.”

He laughed bitterly. “Yeah, thanks.”

She couldn’t help herself and reached out to touch his arm gently. “I heard about your injury and your contract. I’m sorry.”

He was a famous athlete, so it wasn’t weird that she knew every detail of his career. He was a public figure, after all. It wasn’t like she was obsessed or anything.

“Thanks. And so the star comes home a failure.”

She frowned. “No one thinks that.”

“Maybe you don’t, but—”

“No. Seriously. I live here, Cole. I know. Everyone who knows you was very upset about your injury and pissed as hell that they would let you go because of it.”

“Can’t blame them. Who needs a pitcher who can’t pitch? And speaking of, you never told me whose kid that is.” He frowned at her. “And why are you sitting here in this sweltering heat watching a little league game anyway?”

“Um. Bobby is a coach, so I, um, come to support him.” Lizzie’s heart pounded as she danced around the truth. Cole had surprised her. She wasn’t prepared with a lie to explain Mike’s existence in her life.

“Bobby is coaching? Does he have a kid playing?”

“Um, no.” Lizzie glanced at Cole, trying to judge if he suspected she was hiding something.

He frowned at her again. “Okay. Did he ever become the sheriff?”

Thanking God he’d changed the subject, she shook her head. “He’s a deputy now, but it won’t be long. One day he’ll be sheriff.” And just saying that one word, sheriff, flooded her with memories of the sheriff raiding the party in the woods and what happened after.

Lizzie risked a glance at Cole’s face and the expression she saw there told her he was thinking the same thing.

“Why did you do it, Lizzie? Why did you break up with me?”

Oh, boy. She never thought he’d come right out and ask after all these years. Why hadn’t she rehearsed this particular scenario along with all of the others she’d imagined over the past ten years? “You needed to concentrate on your career. I was a distraction.”

He shook his head. “You were not. And besides, even if you had been, that was my decision to make, not yours.”

“I handled it the wrong way. I’m sorry, Cole.” She shrugged, trying to look like that decision hadn’t ripped her heart out. “I was only eighteen.”

“I know exactly how old you were.” He looked away, shaking his head.

Glancing back at the field, Lizzie noticed Mike retire the side and Bobby run up to talk to him. He had one more inning left to pitch and Bobby always made sure he wasn’t too tired or hurting before he would let him go out to the mound again. For once, she wasn’t worried about Mikey hurting himself playing ball. All she could think about now was how to get Cole as far away from Mikey as possible.

Chapter Four

Cole glanced at Lizzie’s profile as she watched the field. He let out a big breath of frustration. He had to get away from her for a little while. How this emotion could still exist after all this time was beyond him, but there it was, suspiciously feeling a lot like pain.