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Chapter 4
Easton
My fucking brother puts me in impossible situations, and I’m the poor schmuck who goes along with it. Justin knew what would reel me in. Damn lucky, too. I’m not in the mood to go through the talking phase, let alone date someone, yet here I am, parking my car in a driveway of a woman’s house who I’ve never met before. It didn’t sit right with me when Justin gave me the address and I put the location in. Leave it to my brother to go fucking silent when I actually need him. This woman doesn’t know me from Adam. Yet I know her address, the vehicle she drives, and her license plate number. It wouldn’t take but one phone call or a deep dive online to know everything about her. She could potentially set herself up for a creep to take notice. I’ll have to somehow manage to bring it up to Noelle without sounding like someone who would stalk her. My mother would beat my ass if I were one of those people. She’d come after me with the closest thing available—a wooden spoon, a flip-flop, or a loaf of bread. Whatever works. She and I are a hell of a lot closer than me and dear old dad. It was for the best, but tell that to a teenage boy filled with testosterone. I gave her a run for her money. Thankfully, she didn’t give up, made up where Dad fell short, and somehow managed not to hate him in the process.
I step out of my car, shut the door behind me, and take in her house. The small bungalow is well kept, like the rest of the neighborhood, and the yard is manicured. The porch light is turned on already, and the sun is just starting to set. The one downfall of living on the east coast of Florida is the lack of sunsets. We get sunrises and stay warmer than north Florida, and as long as you’re up early in the morning, it makes for one hell of a view. I straighten my suit. It’s not what I’d prefer to wear on a date, but since Justin made sure to tell me it was a black-tie affair, I pulled on an all-black one, with a black shirt and a black tie. I’d have preferred a jeans and a shirt. Leave it to my brother. I think the next time I see him, I’m going nail him in the nuts.
I pocket my keys after hitting the lock button, head up the small walkway, and a few stairs later, I’m taking my hand out of my pocket to press the doorbell. There are a couple of wicker chairs with plush cushions on the front porch, a small glass and wicker table, and on top of it sits a small Christmas cactus plant. My mom is one of those crazy plant ladies. She’s obsessed with everything horticulture. Each room has a plant of some kind. The front and back porch are the same, plus she’s got a huge yard.
“I’ll be right there,” I hear echoed through the wood door. I take a step back, so the storm door doesn’t smack me in the face when she walks out. I don’t respond. Instead, I bide my time thinking about the shit at work. We were able to come up with a deal. Phillips manned up, told Monte he loved his daughter and that the relationship had been happening behind his back, which didn’t help matters at first. But Monte finally got it through his head that his daughter wasn’t a child anymore, that she got to make the decision. So what if it wasn’t what he wanted? She is old enough, and so is Phillips. It worked in everyone’s favor. The media took the whirlwind romance angle and ran with it. The flipside helped me even more since I no longer have to look for a new assistant coach.
“Hi, sorry about that.” Noelle opens the door, slightly bent as she places a heel on her foot and struggling to do so. Her hair is black, almost jet black. There’s some bounce to it with a slight curl. Her lips are painted a bright red, and while she’s looking at me with her dark brown eyes, she is also giving me a view I’m pretty sure she’s unaware of. Damn, now I’m going to have to somehow keep my eyes off her tits.
“Hello.” I hold the door open for her so she can concentrate on the shoe and not falling on her ass. “Would you like any help?”
“No, the damn strap likes to slip down. You must be Easton. I’m Noelle. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The curvaceous woman stands up, hand coming out to shake mine. She has no idea what the word pleasure does to me coming from her mouth or that I want to say ‘Fuck the black-tie event’ and get to know her better.
