AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’ve been doing that very well. I just had a tiny relapse.”
/>
He smiled at her. “You’re good for the inn.”
“Thanks. You didn’t think I would be.”
“I didn’t know you.”
Her eyebrows arched under the bangs. “You thought, city girl in a fancy suit with fancy city ideas.”
His mouth opened, shut again.
“You did!” She poked at him. “Snob.”
“I figured you for the snob.”
“You figured wrong.”
“It happens.” He ran a hand over her hair, surprising both of them. “I like the hair,” he said and barely resisted stuffing the hand in his pocket. “Shorter than mine.”
“You need a haircut.”
“I haven’t had time.”
“I could cut it for you.”
He laughed. “No, you fucking won’t.”
“I’m good at it.”
He pulled the popcorn out, dumped it in a bowl. “Let’s go watch a movie.”
“I even have the right tools.”
“No. Do you want more wine? I’ve got another bottle.”
“I’ve got to drive, so no. I’ll switch to water.”
“Grab those chocolate things. Big-ass TV’s downstairs.”
She followed him down, gaped, grinned.
“This is wonderful!”
“I like it.”
She supposed he thought of it as a man cave, but there was nothing cavelike here. Glass doors opened to the outside, giving it a sense of more space. He’d used color again, sharply, nothing soft, nothing pale, mated it with dark glossy wood, a lot of leather.
Delighted, she wandered, studied the alcove where he kept weights, an old-fashioned water bubbler, the punching bag boxers used—what was it? Speed bag, she remembered.
She peeked around and into the small, Deco-inspired black and white bath.
He had games—the Montgomery brothers seemed to love them. Pinball machine, an Xbox, even one of those touch-screen games Avery had at Vesta.
But the best was the bar—carved and compact, and the retro refrigerator, the glass shelves with old bottles.
“Is this a reproduction or the real thing?” she asked.
“It’s the real thing. I like old things.” He opened the old Frigidaire, gave her a bottle of water.
“It’s like the fifties meet the now. It’s great.” She admired the antique poker table, the old-style pinball machine.
“You must have great parties.”
“That’s Owen’s deal more than mine.”
“I should say you could have great parties.” Her party-planning brain already organized themes, menus, decorations. “And that is, without question, the biggest TV I’ve ever seen.”
“Might as well have big. That cabinet’s for the DVDs. You can pick what you want to see.”
“I get to pick? That’s very considerate.”
“There’s nothing in there I won’t watch, so you can pick.”
She laughed and, before she did, walked over, wrapped her arms around his waist. “See, you didn’t have to say that. I’d’ve believed you were considerate.”
“It is what it is.”
“I like what it is.”
“So do I. Ah, what’s that thing called before the movie?”
“Previews?”
“No, the old-fashioned thing. Before they played the movie.”
“The overture?”
“Yeah, that’s it.” He scooped her off her feet. “It’s time for the overture.”
She laughed as he rolled them both onto his black leather couch.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHEN THE WOMAN YOU HOOKED UP WITH WORKED long, weird hours, you started living that way. He didn’t mind. It freed up his own off-time, left him choices. Work, TV sports, a long easy spell over a beer. He could mooch dinner off his mother or one of his brothers.
Or, like tonight, he could enjoy a night at the ballpark with his brothers and nephews.
Nothing hit the bell, to Ryder’s way of thinking, like minor league baseball. Sure, a trip to Camden Yards to watch the O’s play in the colorful cathedral of ball equaled a hell of an experience.
But minor league offered the intimacy, the drama and the simplicity of what the summer game was about. And when you added three young boys to the mix, it genuinely kicked ass.
He sat, munching a loaded dog, drinking a cold beer—since he and Owen had voted Beckett the designated driver—and enjoying the hell out of himself.
The crowd booed, cheered, catcalled the pitchers—including their own. The Hagerstown Suns, down two runs in the fifth, took the field. The mid-July heat that had steamed through the afternoon calmed with the hint of a breeze as the sun dropped west.
Ryder watched the pitcher fan the first batter, glanced over where Harry devoured the action, elbows on his knees, body tipped forward, face intent the way only a devout baseball fan could understand.
“Picking up some pointers, Houdini?”
Harry grinned over as the next batter stepped up to the plate. “I’m pitching Saturday, Coach said.”
“I heard.” He’d make time to be there, to watch the kid strut his stuff.
“I’m practicing my curveball. Beckett showed me how.”
“He’s got a pretty good one.”
Ryder settled back to watch the next pitch. At the crack of the bat, he moved instinctively, hauling Liam up, shooting the boy’s gloved hand in the air. He angled, and felt, as Liam did, the ball smack the sweet spot of the glove.
“I caught it!” Dumbfounded, thrilled beyond measure, Liam gaped down at the ball in his glove. “I caught the ball.”
“Nice.” Beckett sent Liam and his brother a mile-wide smile. “Pretty damn nice.”
“Mr. Hoover sucks it up. Let’s see it,” Owen demanded, and six males examined the ball as miners might a vein of gold.
“I want to catch one.” Murphy held out his glove. “Can you help me catch one?”
“They have to hit it this way. We had a high-flying foul that time.” Ryder knew better than to add they’d gotten lucky. “Keep your eyes peeled and your glove hot.”
“Ry! I thought that was you.”
The pretty blonde owned a sexy river of hair and generous curves snugged into tiny shorts and a tight T-shirt. She squeezed in beside him.
Hooking her arms around his neck she gave him a loud, cheerful kiss.
“Jen. How’s it going?”
“It’s going great. I hear the buzz about what you’re all doing in Boonsboro. I keep meaning to get down your way, see for myself. Hey, Owen, Beck. Who you got here?” She smiled at the boys.
“Beck’s and Clare’s,” Ryder told her. “Harry, Liam, Murphy.”
“Well, hi! I heard you and Clare got married. How’s she doing?”
“She’s good. It’s nice to see you, Jen,” Beckett said.
“My mom’s got two more brothers in her tummy,” Murphy announced.
“Two—seriously? Well, wow! Congratulations. And didn’t I hear you and Avery got engaged, Owen?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“I’ve really got to catch up with her, get into her place, grab some pizza. And I’m going to check out her new place when it’s open. Lot of buzz there. Two out of three of the Montgomery boys off the market,” she continued, as Harry shifted to see around her. “You’re prime real estate now, Ry.” She let out her quick, up-the-scale and down again laugh. “Hey, I’m just here with a couple of friends. Why don’t you drive me home after the game, we can catch up?”
“I’m kind of …” He spread his hands to encompass his group.
“Oh, sure. Well, call me! I’ll get down to Boonsboro and you can buy me a pizza at Vesta. You tell Avery I’m coming down to see her, Owen.”
“Will do.”
“I’m going to get on back.” She gave Ryder another squeeze, whispered, “Call me,” in his ear.
As she walked away both his brothers slid their gazes in his direction.
“Cut it out,” he muttered. After an u
ncomfortable internal debate, he pushed up. “Be right back.”
“Get me a beer,” Owen called out.
“Can I get nachos?” Murphy demanded. “Can I?”
Ryder just waved his hands and kept walking. He caught up with Jen as the
