4 Big Easy Hunter
Authors: Maddie Cochere
Big Easy
Hunter
by Maddie Cochere
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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Jacket design by Gillian Soltis of Columbus, Ohio
Chapter One
“Stop it!” I whispered. My breath was coming in short gasps, my knees were weak, and I was feeling light-headed as I was pushed harder against the wall. “Someone will see us.”
Mick was laughing as he continued to pin me against the wall and kiss me yet again. “No one’s going to see us, and we aren’t doing anything anyway,” he whispered back as he nuzzled my neck. “I won, and I’m simply collecting my prize.”
I had to give in and laugh with him, but I continued to argue, “Mick, stop! I’m not walking off this court looking like I’ve just been ravished. And you didn’t win. I threw that game to you. I had to let you win at least one.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, how about one more game? We’ll see who wins the next one. And no sandbagging this time,” he admonished as he kissed me hard yet again.
Before I could catch my breath to respond, Samantha stuck her head through the opening at the top of the court above us and asked, “Hey, are you two done making out down there? Ron tapped a new keg, and Husky and Larry want to play cards. Are you guys coming?”
My already flushed face turned beet red with embarrassment, but Mick laughed and called up to her, “We’re going to play one more game, and then we’ll be up.” He tossed the ball to me for the first serve.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Mick and I were playing racquetball at the local club, Carbide Racquet & Fitness. My best girlfriend, Samantha, and her husband, Larry, had played doubles earlier with Husky, the club coach, and Ron, the club’s weekend bartender. They were all now planning to spend several hours drinking and playing cards in the small pub on the second floor.
“Ok. I’ll tell them you’re in,” Samantha called down before turning to walk away.
I moved into position in the service box, bounced the ball a couple of times, and glanced back at Mick. We had been married for a little over six months now, and he still had the same effect on me as he did when we dated. Just looking at him turned me to jelly inside, and I could stare into his gorgeous, hazel-green eyes all day long. He had a rock solid body from years of playing handball, and he only recently started playing racquetball so we could play together. I noticed his thick brown hair was falling onto his forehead and had more curl than usual. The intense workout was only adding to his sexiness.
I shook off the desire to move back to the wall for more kissing and forced myself to see him as a contender. I bounced the ball and hit it hard, sending it low and deep into the back left corner of the court. He couldn’t return the shot, and I gave him a huge smile. He was going to have to work hard for this game.
Twenty minutes later, I was pinned against the back wall again. He won the game 15-12 and was collecting another passionate kiss for the win. Before we could get caught again, I wriggled out from under his strong arms, playfully slapped his chest, and said, “I’ll meet you up in the pub. I’m going to take a cold shower, and you should do the same.” His laughter and beaming smile sent tingles from my head all the way down to my toes. He had a way of smiling at me that let me know he was completely happy, and I never tired of seeing it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“What’s trump?” Husky asked.
“Diamonds, and I’m going alone,” said Ron as he threw down both bars for the first two tricks. Larry and Mick both groaned as they threw their only trump cards onto the table. The four-point loner was quickly noted for Ron and Husky.
Samantha and I were drinking wine and snacking on pretzels as we sat beside the guys and watched them play euchre. It had been an enjoyable afternoon, and it felt wonderful to be relaxing with friends after being on the court for over an hour with Mick.
“How’s the new job going, Susan?” Husky asked as he shuffled the cards for the next hand.
“Really great,” I told him. “I hold training classes over in Chagrin Falls twice a month, and the rest of the time I travel to centers to help the managers. I love it, and I’m glad I made the decision to take the job.”
I work for Slimmers, a national weight loss company. They have 14 centers in Northeast Ohio, and I accepted the position of Division Manager after Mick and I returned from our Paris honeymoon in January. I still work part-time at the racquetball club, but only on Sunday afternoons when Mick spends one-on-one time with Alex, his fifteen-year-old son from his first marriage.
“I’m home every night, and I have more time for racquetball than I did when I was managing a center here in town,” I finished telling him as I stood to gather and refill beer glasses for the guys.
“I’m happy for you,” Husky said with sincerity. “It makes life so much easier when you can do something you enjoy. Speaking of which, how did you like the job we did for you on the apartment? I haven’t heard what you think about it now that the renovations are finished.”
“Oh my gosh, Husky! I love what you guys did with the place,” I told him excitedly. “And I can’t believe how fast everything got done.”
“I thought you two were buying a house,” Ron said to me and Mick. He looked confused.
“We wanted to,” said Mick, “but we couldn’t find a place we liked well enough. When Susan’s apartment building went up for sale, we bought it, so we’re staying there, and now we’re landlords, too. Spades,” he said calling trump.
“Why didn’t I know any of this?” Ron asked looking at all of us as though we had left him out of some great secret.
“Jeez, Ron, don’t you pay any attention around here?” Samantha asked him. “We’ve been talking about it for weeks. Mick’s construction company remodeled the top floor of the building. Mick and Susan live in half of the top floor, and Darby and Nate rent the other half.”
“You’re kidding,” Ron said incredulously. “When did Nate get here?”
“You can’t be serious,” I snapped at him in disbelief. “Nate’s been here for at least two months. He’s working at the Holiday Inn downtown.”
“We gutted the two apartments on Susan’s side and made one huge apartment,” said Husky. “Darby and Nate have the two apartments across the hall. We made an interior doorway so they could go back and forth without having to use the outer hallway.”
Ron seemed completely befuddled by all of the news, and it didn’t make any sense. We were all friends and talked about everything over cards and drinks at the club. It simply had to be one of those freaky things where he had been working or manning the bar when we talked about buying the apartment building and the subsequent remodeling.
Mick was co-owner with his uncle of Raines Construction, and even though their company dealt exclusively with commercial contracts, Mick and several of the guys had worked furiously to complete the apartment remodeling in six weeks. Husky was an employee of Raines Construction, and he had been especially helpful in the remodeling efforts.
“What’s this I hear about a secret passageway?” asked Larry before calling, “Trump!” and slamming his last card onto the table. “Two points for us,” he crowed. Husky and Ron grunted their disapproval at not being able to stop the two-point hand.
“That was Husky’s idea,” I said with a delighted smile, “and it’s really cool.”
“Susan has a ton of cookbooks and fiction,” Mick chimed in, “and rather than to build shelves in the living room, we added a room next to my office for her library. It’s wall-to-wall bookcases and one of them opens into a narrow storage closet between her library and my office. It has the same type of access from my office with a bookshelf opening into the storage area. It keeps office supplies and a few cases of wine out of sight. Plus, it’s kind of fun having the invisible cut-through.”
“Well, when are you going to have an open house so we can see what you’ve done with the place?” Ron asked with a big grin.
Mick and I both laughed. “We haven’t really thought about it,” I said, “but I’m always up for a good party.” I looked at Mick with eyebrows raised as if to ask for his thoughts.
“It’s a great idea,” he said with a flash of his amused smile, and I immediately knew he liked the idea of my being hostess at a party in our home. “How about next Saturday?” he asked. “If all of you are available, the rest of the guest list shouldn’t be a problem.”
Everyone around the table smiled and mumbled approval. Ron seemed proud of himself for generating a party. I had to laugh at my friends.
I checked the time on my watch and saw it was 4:30. I stood up and announced, “I have to go. Darby and Nate will be over for dinner at 6:00, and I still have to run to Martin’s Deli. Mick, what are you going to do?”
“I think I’ll stay here for a little while if I can hitch a ride home with one of these guys,” he said looking around the table.
“I’ll run you home,” Husky said in his rough, gravelly voice which had earned him his nickname years ago.
I said my good-byes, gave Mick a fast kiss, and ran down to the locker room to grab my purse and gear before leaving the club. I hopped into my bolero red, ’67 Chevy Chevelle, and sat for a few minutes almost giddy with happiness. It had been a perfect summer afternoon, and I didn’t know how I could ever be any happier than I was today. I thoroughly enjoyed my friends, and being married to Mick was heavenly.
I started the powerful car, tuned the radio to a top 40 station, and pulled out of the parking lot singing along loudly to Katy Perry’s
Waking Up In Vegas
. Our apartment was only five minutes from the club, and I passed it on the way to the deli. It was a three-story building with 11 units now that we had combined two of them into one. Mick kept the faux Tudor facade on the front, and I was happy with the decision. The landscaping had been updated and the overall appearance presented an attractive building in the midst of lackluster structures. I was proud of the work they had done.
Darby was my best guyfriend. He lived in the apartment across the hall from me, and had been there for the entire two years I lived in the building. He worked at home as a freelance web and marketing writer. We were close, and I was grateful Mick accepted our friendship without condition. I’m sure it helped that Darby was gay, but I was still grateful he rarely exhibited signs of jealousy for the amount of time Darby and I spent together. I never told Mick, but one of the reasons I was having such a hard time finding a house to buy was that I wasn’t yet ready to give up Darby being across the hall from me. When Mick suggested buying the apartment building, I nearly cried with relief.
Reuben sandwiches were on the menu tonight. Darby and I had been eating Reuben sandwiches just about once a week ever since we had met, and Mick and Nate were happy to eat them now, too.