Soft Sounds of Pleasure (3 page)

Chapter Four

As he reversed out of his parking spot, Colton was already dreading another long evening at home with a sullen Jonah, slouched in the truck at his side, when he caught sight of Daniel's beefy frame jumping up and down outside the front door to the garage, waving his hands over his head like a flagman at the finish line of Lowe's Motor Speedway.

With a glance at the young man huddled in the passenger seat, Colton threw his truck into park and turned off the switch, removing the keys. He worried constantly the kid might try something stupid, like trying to drive back to the only home he'd ever known.

He took the phone Dan handed him. "This is Colton," he said, watching his oldest brother's elaborate shrug in confusion.

"This is Ken Davis," the man on the other end of the line introduced himself. "Do you know where Berry Field is located?"

Colton thought the question silly. His company car was a wrecker. He knew where everything was located. "Asheville Highway, across from Cleveland Park," he snapped back, annoyed by the man's tone and the quiz.

"Have your nephew here in an hour, dressed to play. I'll take a look at the kid. But I'm telling you now; I'm only doing this as a favor to Pete's widow."

The line went dead. Colton placed the cordless phone back on the charger with a frown.
What a jerk.
But it looked like Lila had done what she'd promised.

"Was that what I think it was?" Daniel asked, grinning broadly. A step behind him, his middle brother Eric looked excited as well.

Colton grinned back, feeling hopeful for the first time since Sarah had died and he'd made the cross-country trip to bring her body and her son back home. "Looks like Jonah gets a try-out after all." The brothers high-fived all around and then followed him as he jogged out of the garage, all three of them delighting in the big grin that crossed Jonah's face when he heard the news.

* * * *

Colton lounged on the wide concrete steps comprising the tiered seating at Berry Field, taking in the surroundings. He'd never actually been inside the gate, but he had picked up a few cars from the parking lot with the wrecker over the years.

An eight-foot concrete block wall, painted forest green, curved around the close-clipped outfield grass. White numbers were stenciled in three different places along the top of the wall, marking the distance from the plate, he guessed. Baseball was not his thing. The facility had been around a while, though, judging from the way a couple of the majestic river oaks leaned over the wall as if watching the action like the scattered groups of parents.

The women were seated in a big group, far to his right in the shadow cast by the sun setting behind the concrete risers, while the men stood in groups of two or three, scattered along the tall protective fence separating the spectators from the action on the field.

Berry Field wasn't a big park, but the field had a certain charm, he supposed. Jonah had turned up his nose at the place when they'd first walked up, but as far as Colton could tell, the kid thought everything was better on the West Coast.

While part of his brain tracked his nephew's actions as the boy did some stretching exercises, another part of his mind conjured the image of Lila all buttered up on her deck.

Colton jerked forward suddenly, placing his forearms over his knees and surreptitiously trying to adjust his jeans as he glanced around. This was not the place to pop wood. Some parent might think he had a thing for little boys, damn it.

He had trouble losing the hard-on though, because every time he blinked, he saw her. And sure enough, before he got his problem under control, some guy tapped him on the shoulder.

"You must be Jonah De Marco's uncle?" the stranger asked, reading from a piece of paper in his hand.

"Yes," he answered, wondering how the man knew that, since he'd told Dan there was no way he'd ever wear one of those ugly uniform shirts with embroidered names. The guy's shirt said 'Parks and Recreation' and 'Athletic Director'. Surely nobody had seen his erection and reported him. Were parents that paranoid these days?

The man gave Colton a friendly grin. "Had to be, you're the only guy here I don't know. Which kid is he?" the stranger asked, dropping down to sit on the concrete step beside Colton, looking through the fence at the field.

His dilemma was almost, but not quite funny, Colton thought. But his problem was sure enough cured for the time being. "The one in the Dodger's jersey."

The man chuckled, his eyes riveted to the activity on the field. "Should've figured that one out on my own, since he lived in L.A. That's a nice stadium, though. I went to a couple of games there once."

It took Colton a second to realize the man meant Dodger Stadium. "Never been, I'm not a baseball person."

"But you know one," the man replied. "And, it sounds like you signed up to raise one. You'll catch on soon enough."

"I know one?" Colton repeated, figuring the other part was more or less a given.

The man turned his attention to Colton now, giving him an assessing gaze. "I had a visit from our former league secretary Lila Walker today, about your nephew. It's a shame about your sister. That's why I like smaller towns, myself."

"Yeah, my Dad was pretty upset when Sarah announced her plan to go to L.A., but she was eighteen. Sorry, I didn't get your name."

The man laughed and turned to stick out a hand, glancing down at his shirt before meeting Colton's eyes, his ruddy face reddening a bit more. "Tucker Sizemore, sorry," he apologized with a rueful chuckle, "I thought this shirt had my name on it."

They shook hands and Tucker stood up. "Watch for a guy about five-two or five-three, driving a white Ford Ranger, would you? Introduce yourself. His name's Reggie. I see somebody who wants a piece of me. If I move now, maybe my blood won't get on your shoes."

Colton was trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to see this guy's truck from his seat inside the field, let alone why he needed to introduce himself, but he nodded as the Parks and Rec Athletic Director walked away and watched as one of the women stalked up to the man. Judging from the way she was pointing her finger in the poor guy's face, Parks and Rec wasn't all fun and games, he thought with a smirk as he memorized the woman's face so he could make sure Eric got her service ticket if she ever showed up at the garage.

He caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye and watched as Jonah ran across the infield to stand on the mound. After a few pitches, even the Tucker guy and the angry lady stopped their debate to watch, so he figured the kid must be doing something right. Like the man said, he'd catch on. All three of them would, he vowed grimly. Eric and Dan thought the world started and ended with cars.

"That your kid?" he heard from his left.

Looking around, he assumed this could only be Reggie, since the guy wasn't quite as tall as Jonah. He used such a wide-legged stance it caused Colton to wonder if he subconsciously took up a lot of horizontal space to compensate for his vertical lack. "Nephew, but he's mine," Colton agreed.

Reggie, if that was who the guy was, didn't say another word. The practice continued, another kid eventually replacing Jonah on the mound, but instead of coming off the field, the kid ran to stand beside third base, knees bent, pounding one hand into his glove.

A few minutes later, after taking a few swings and hitting several balls, Jonah came off the field with his equipment bag and took a seat beside his uncle. "He said to wait here," his nephew said with a small shrug. Colton nodded. A silent minute passed. Jonah looked at Colton, who was dismayed to see the usual frown back on his nephew's face. "I could've done better, you know."

Colton felt his eyebrows go up. "So why didn't you?"

Jonah kicked the bag at his feet. "Before I even got warmed up, I heard that Ken guy say this was just a waste of his time. It's too late to add anybody." The kid's thin shoulders hunched and he continued sending vicious kicks into the heavy vinyl bag.

At a complete loss for words, Colton watched Jonah wipe his face against the shoulder of his jersey. Getting a fake try-out was worse than not getting one, he realized.

The man to his left spoke up. "What, exactly, could you have done better, kid?"

Jonah gave the battered bag another savage kick, addressing his words to the beleaguered bag. "I wasn't throwing as hard as I can. Why risk my arm? And my curve wasn't breaking today either. It's been a while since I had a catcher to throw to."

Note to self
, Colton thought.
Learn to catch.
How in the heck had his sister managed alone? Somehow he couldn't picture Sarah in the padding and helmet the kid behind the plate wore. She'd shrieked bloody murder every time one of her brothers threatened to wipe a little grease on her. Squat in the dirt? Not likely. "Do we stay or go?" he asked, squeezing Jonah's shoulder and feeling helpless.

"We stay," Jonah said, jerking away from Colton's hand but looking up with angry eyes that borrowed their color from the outfield grass. "But I dare him to say it's because I'm not good enough. Even on an off day like today, I'm better than his best guy."

Out of the corner of his eye, Colton saw the Reggie guy smirking.

The practice broke up and suddenly, Tucker was back. "Good job, Jonah. Couldn't get your curve working, huh? Some days it's like that. How you doing, Reggie?"

"Am I here for a reason, Tucker?" Reggie asked belligerently. "Because based on what I see out there, I need to spend my time with my own team. Ken's loaded for bear."

"Hang on, let's wait for Ken to get over here," Tucker soothed. "What did you think of Jonah, Reg?"

"He can play," Reggie said. "But like the kid said, it's too late. Wish he'd shown up at my tryout, though. I could use another pitcher, for sure."

Ken Davis finally joined them. "Tucker, what's up?" he said. "Reggie, you come to scout my team?"

"Dunno why I'm here," Reggie growled. "Tucker called me."

Ken looked from Tucker to Colton to Reggie, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Lila Walker came to see you after she left my office," he guessed, aiming his words at Tucker.

"Even better, she brought me a cheeseburger and onion rings from Ike's. That always puts me in a real good mood," Tucker said with a laugh.

"Tucker, the rosters have been submitted to national headquarters. I feel for the kid, I do, but rules are rules. What's the point in adding him if he's not tournament eligible?" Ken protested loudly.

Colton was wondering why they were still here, since he had followed the conversation enough to know this was an impossible situation. Yet it was pretty clear Lila had done her best and then some.

"The kid has been through a real hard time, and maybe letting him play is about more than baseball, Ken." The smile on Tucker's face suddenly changed from happy good old boy to shark smelling blood as he rocked back and forth on his heels, clapping his hands together in front of him. "But, if it makes you feel better, while I ate, Lila used my phone. According to the tale she told national headquarters, my office misplaced one set of credentials, but she got that all smoothed over for me, if I send the papers in tomorrow. He'll be tournament eligible, Ken. And Reggie can use him. All you have to do is sign off on this thing, since you're the league president."

Colton tried to suppress his laugh and failed. Ken looked as if he'd just been hit by a loose baseball, right in the gut. Jonah perked up like dry grass after a rain. Even Reggie looked taller.

"I hate to mix my metaphors, but that sounds to me like game, set, and match, Ken," Reggie spoke up, his face breaking into a grin bigger than he was. More importantly, Jonah grinned back. Reggie added, "I'll bring the forms around for all of you to sign in the morning, and drop them off with Tucker." Colton gave the short man directions to the garage. The diminutive coach stepped out of the small group of men to hold out a hand for Jonah to shake. "Welcome to the Tigers, Jonah. I'm Coach Martin."

"You'd better be holding a burger from Ike's when you get to my office, since that's the going price for… whatever it is that just happened," Ken informed Reggie disgustedly. "I like cheese on mine."

As soon as they got in his truck, Colton turned to a grinning Jonah. "Where to for the celebration, kiddo?"

Jonah thought that over for a second. "Do you know where this Ike's is?"

Colton hesitated. He knew of one place by that name, but it was a rundown bar, actually named Ike's Place. The sign out front looked like it had been painted by the last customer leaving on a Friday night. He had trouble picturing Lila in that sort of place. "I do, but it's news to me they sell burgers. Guess it won't hurt to find out. But if they do, we get ours to go."

"Duh. Everybody else did," Jonah pointed out.

Smartass kid
, Colton thought fondly. And speaking of smart, he hadn't missed the fact that Lila had played two grown men like… well, like the outcome mattered to her.

Chapter Five

Lila rinsed out her coffee cup and placed it in the top rack of the dishwasher, realizing the appliance was nearly full. That reminded her of the days she'd had to run it twice daily, just to keep up with the steady stream of dirty dishes her two missing men had generated. Angrily, she dropped in the soap tablet and slammed the door, stabbing blindly at the power button.

What sort of fool cried over not having to run the dishwasher? She should be celebrating the drop in her water bill.

Probably the same sort of fool that'd gone out of her way to help someone without any manners whatsoever
, she told herself.

No, not a fool. An idiot.

An idiot that had gotten carried away because of one pity fuck. She knew she'd have called Ken Davis for Colton either way. She'd probably have put in a call to Tucker for good measure. But because of the sex, she'd gone above and beyond. And Colton wasn't calling to let her know the outcome because he was probably embarrassed to have banged a woman Lila's age.

She gave her chair a sharp shove into place beneath her table. In a couple of days, there would probably be a polite card in her mailbox. Not that she truly believed a single straight man would send her a thank-you note, but she knew she could stand around crying, or she could get busy. Waiting for tears to solve something had proved to be a waste of time.

Meanwhile, she'd promised an antique dealer she'd have a chair frame refinished by tomorrow and it needed two clear coats with at least four hours dry time in between. Good thing it was going to be hot again today.

She raised one of the roll-up doors to compensate for the heat and grabbed a couple of rags from the drawer of an old dresser. Tuning the radio defiantly to her favorite oldies station, she twisted her hair, jerked it through the back of one of Charlie's old baseball caps and got to work.

The elaborate carving on the chair frame was gorgeous, in Lila's opinion, but she had to take meticulous care not to let the gelatinous material of her secret hand-rubbed finish goop up in the crevices, or miss a spot. It wasn't long before her anger and frustration faded as she got lost in her task, admiring the way the grain and rich color of the newly bared wood came to life when the clear finish coat was applied.

To Lila, there were few things more satisfying than restoring an old piece of furniture. Pete had laughed at her at first, when they'd only just been married and she'd dragged home a raggedy dining room table and five wobbly chairs which she'd bought secondhand for twenty dollars, promising to buy her a new set. Lila hadn't wanted a new set, and Pete had stopped laughing when he saw the pieces after she'd refinished them. They'd eaten dinner on that table, and he'd declared her a miracle worker when the chairs hadn't collapsed, praising her handiwork for almost an hour. Probably because, back then, she hadn't been much of a cook, she recalled with a wry twist of her lips. The stray thought that poor Pete must have been thrilled to finally have something positive to say after dinner that first year they were married made her laugh out loud.

Pete hadn't been laughing when he came home a few nights later to find the dining nook completely empty.

"Oh, my God, Lila, we've been robbed," he'd cried. "Honey, did you call the police?"

Lila had been planning this moment for weeks, but she acted very nonchalant. "Oh, you mean the table and chairs? I sold them today."

"You sold them?" he'd repeated. "Why would you do that? You worked so hard and the set was beautiful when you finished."

"Because I had a much nicer set on layaway at an antique shop, or it will be when I strip the paint off. I sold this one to pay for the other one. Plus, thanks to the profit, tonight we're having steak." At the time, Lila had known a hundred recipes for hamburger, but they all turned out badly. Even she couldn't screw up steak and potatoes.

That had been the way Lila started her little junk business, eventually using the profits to buy a secondhand truck of her own. Pete had never once questioned what she did with her money after that first lesson in barter economics.

Charlie had bitched that she'd sell anything in the house that wasn't nailed down, but until she had absolutely had no choice, she had held onto that second dining room suite.

Be safe, Charlie,
she prayed silently, as she did every time he popped into her thoughts, stepping back to look at the chair critically as she stripped off her gloves.

The first three notes of the next song on the radio made her wrench the volume dial as far up as it would go. The rich voice of Otis Redding filled the garage and her sense of loss and loneliness made her own arms ache as she swayed to the music. Her heart literally felt raw from hurting.

Being lonely was the worst part of surviving. Her child was gone, her friends had deserted her, her in-laws treated her like gum on their shoes—something they didn't like but couldn't figure out how to get rid of—and if not for the surprising and timely friendship offered by Amy Sizemore, Lila wasn't sure how she'd have survived all of the bewildering changes that had been thrust upon her.

When the song ended she lifted the hem of Charlie's old t-shirt to wipe away the damnable tears. She'd ripped up all of Pete's t-shirts for staining rags. That was what he got for dying and leaving her alone.

* * * *

Colton stood frozen just inside Lila's garage, his eyes riveted on her gesture. It was like she'd stepped out of his head. She was dressed the same. Even her hair was the same, flowing out the back of a baseball cap, the same jail-break tendrils cuddling her face. The only difference he could see was that this time, when she raised the shirttail to her face, the two items making his cock hard were the adorable dimples just above her ass.

He wanted to swirl his tongue around those little dips.

He wanted to hold her till she cried her last tear.

He wanted to make her laugh.

He wanted her.

He gripped the potted orchid in his hand and adjusted his damn jeans. His movement finally caught her attention, because she dropped the shirt and glanced over her shoulder.

He smiled as she stepped to the radio and reached to turn the volume down. "Is that for me?" she asked.

Having Lila smile back at him was like basking in sunshine after a cold rain. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. "My way of saying thanks. Well, this and lunch, because if you're not busy, I'm going to insist."

The way he'd insisted to his brothers that he was taking the day off, once Reggie had come and gone, because of something Reggie had said. Colton had agreed it wouldn't take men long to line up outside Lila's front door. He'd been smart enough to go 'round back, though.

She stepped toward him, her hands outstretched to accept his gift, but her eyes searched his face. Whatever she saw there made her nod. More crystal tears gleamed in her pretty blue eyes, but her lips still formed the most beautiful curve on her body.

"I might as well tell you I'm going to kill it," she said, dropping her eyes to the orchid. "But it's beautiful and I'll love it till the day it dies. Pink's my favorite color. Thank you."

"No green thumb?" he asked, daring to tuck a soft tendril behind her ear as she accepted his gift. Something in her words made his soul ache like his cock.

"Black all the way to my elbow." The expression in her eyes turned merry, chasing the gleam away.

"You have other talents," he replied, laughing at her joke. "Like what you're doing to that chair. Not to mention the sweet little trick you pulled on that Ken guy."

Humor danced in her eyes. "Come inside and tell me how that worked out," she invited, turning away with the orchid.

He trailed her up the brick steps into the house. She set the flower pot in the center of her kitchen table and stood back to admire the effect, while he stepped closer to better admire Lila. "I'll tell you all about it over lunch," he said. "And if you're going to say you aren't dressed, I'll wait."

She gave him an assessing look from under raised brows as she scuttled to the opposite side of her kitchen. "And if I'm busy?"

He grinned at her, loving the way she was trying to play hard-to-get. "Then you'll have to wait to find out about the tryout till you're not busy." He made himself shrug casually rather than grabbing her and kissing her. "I eat lunch every day; just let me know the day you are willing to go along and I'll tell you the story."

"Hard ball, huh?"

Colton watched her elegantly long fingers as they tortured the hem of her shirt into a knot. Her cute little bottom teeth scraped her upper lip. Anguish and admiration warred inside his chest over her loyalty and commitment to a dead man.

He was sure he'd never known a woman capable of Lila's sort of commitment. He'd cared about one or two. The first had left him to go off to college, and he'd found out the second had slept around on him the entire time they'd dated. Even his mother hadn't committed to raising him; she'd given birth to Sarah, who had been eleven months younger than Colton, and just walked out the back door one day and had never come back. But after Reggie's comment, he'd realized that both of those women had been physically similar to Lila. Why continue to sort through the knock-offs when the original was available?

"Colton, I meant what I said yesterday. I can't go out to lunch with you."

"Lila, there must've been fifty people at Berry Field last night, and they all know I owe you a burger. You aren't the only person people think they have a right to judge. Us long-haired hippie types get more than our fair share of scrutiny, you know. If I don't feed you, I won't be able to hold my head up in town."

Lila stopped mangling her shirt and huffed. "You're seriously not gonna tell me, are you?"

"Nope. But if you really wanna know, I figure a woman that knows about Ike's can find us a spot without too many prying eyes."

"Hey now, Ike's has the closest bathroom to the ball field over at the Beaumont Mill village. The joint has terrible toilet paper though—I mean take-your-own bad—but the burgers? Oh my God, I'd give the Devil my soul if he was holding a burger from Ike's."

When he stopped laughing, she huffed again. "Okay, help yourself to a glass of tea and grab a chair while I change."

Colton took a plastic cup off the stack on top of her refrigerator and filled his glass with ice from the door, noting with something akin to amazement that her refrigerator contained no diet soda as he poured his glass of tea. In fact, there was no soda at all, just a pitcher of tea and a half-gallon of whole milk. And a six-pack of bottled beer, he noted with approval, one slot empty. Closing the door on the chilly escaping air, he couldn't resist pushing open the swinging door to his left. There was only one item of furniture in the room. The big padded armless rocking chair looked comfortable, but out of place under the elegant crystal chandelier. One empty beer bottle rested on the floor beside the chair, a shriveled curl of green lining the bottom. Long double windows looked out on the street.

Imagining her sitting in that rocking chair drinking alone, watching people drive past her, wrenched something inside him. He had a plan to fix that.

A plan he'd started putting together after he and Jonah had shared two of the finest hamburgers he'd ever eaten, causing Jonah to admit he'd never had a better one, not even in his precious Golden State.

Colton had no idea what the magic number of days mourned before Lila felt she could move on might be, but he knew it wouldn't be as long as it had been before she began accepting some of those invitations the three De Marco brothers had all agreed she'd be getting. The woman he compared all others to was now single again. And he'd be damned if he hadn't gotten lucky enough to be the first man in line. Lucky enough to be raising a nephew that wanted to follow a path Lila clearly knew by heart.

He had a hunch Lila and Jonah needed each other. They had more than baseball in common, with their dual losses, and Colton needed her advice on both baseball and child-rearing. These were going to be his reasons to keep his foot in her door, because deep down, he knew Lila's protestations about conventions meant she wasn't yet ready to move on.

He glanced at his watch when he heard her footsteps on the stairs. He stepped back into the kitchen as the door to her bare dining room closed silently on its pivot. Less than seven minutes? Had she even changed? Was she backing out?

She turned the corner to the kitchen and he couldn't resist a "Wow that was fast," as he noted her light pink top and khaki skirt with a sense of relief.

"You like to be kept waiting?" she asked curiously.

"I'll wait as long as you need." He gave her an approving look. "You look beautiful, Lila. You always do."

A fresh coat of mascara that hadn't been there ten minutes ago darkened her fluttering lashes. Her cheeks soon matched her shirt. "I don't suppose you happened to notice what happened to my sunglasses? I nearly went blind driving around yesterday after you left."

He laughed, enjoying seeing her flustered by the memory of how her glasses had come to be lost. "No ma'am, I was totally absorbed by you, but I'll help you look for them," he offered. "I guess you already searched the deck?"

Their hunt turned up her glasses stuck in the top of a bush in the side yard where they'd landed after sliding off the deck. He placed them on her nose after inspecting them for scratches. "Chanel, huh? Classy choice for a classy lady." He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling her perfume.

"Early birthday gift to me, because I doubt my son will remember. But I was positive these were what he would have picked out." She was babbling; his flattery made her nervous. He enjoyed knowing that being close to him shook her. Deliberately, he slid his fingers down the soft skin along the back of her arm, until he captured her hand.

"What's that?" he asked as he spied a mound of dirt behind her, trying to head off another hard-on while he laced his fingers through hers.

"Charlie's pitching mound, Pete built it for him right before the wreck."