Big Easy Hunter

Big Easy Hunter

by Maddie Cochere

Copyright 2012 by Maddie Cochere.

Smashwords Edition.

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions therof in any form whatsoever except as provided by US copyright Law.

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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 factitiously. 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.

Breezy Books

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Cover design by Gillian Soltis of Columbus, Ohio

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Stop, I whispered, my breath coming in short gasps. My knees were weak, and I felt light-headed as he pushed me harder against the wall. Someone will see us.

Mick laughed and kissed me again. No one’s going to see us, and we aren’t doing anything. I won, and I’m 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 been ravished. And you didn’t win. I threw that game to you. I had to let you win at least one.

Oh, yeah? How about one more? We’ll see who wins the next one. 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 and asked, Hey, are you two done making out down there? Ron tapped a keg, and Husky and Larry want to play cards. Are you 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, 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 our 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 now planning to spend several hours drinking beer and playing cards in the small pub on the second floor.

I’ll tell them you’re in, she called down before turning to walk away.

I moved into position in the service box and bounced the ball a few times. I glanced back at Mick and felt a flutter of excitement. 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 - looking at him turned me to jelly inside.

His body was rock solid from years of playing handball. He had only recently started playing racquetball, so we could play together. His hazel-green eyes were one of his best features, and I could easily stare into them all day long. I focused for a moment on his thick brown hair. It was falling onto his forehead and had more curl than usual. The intense workout only served to add 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 once more 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. The game ended with a final score of fifteen to twelve, and he was collecting another passionate kiss for the win.

I wriggled out from under his strong arms, playfully slapped his chest, and said, I’ll meet you 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. I never tired of seeing it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

What’s trump? Husky asked.

Diamonds and I’m going alone, Ron said as he threw down both bars for the first two tricks. Larry and Mick 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 had chosen to drink wine and snack on pretzels while 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.

Great, I said. I hold training classes in Chagrin Falls twice a month. The rest of the time, I travel to centers to help the managers. I’m glad I made the decision to take the job.

I worked for Slimmers, a national weight loss company with fourteen centers in Northeast Ohio. I accepted the position of Division Manager after Mick and I returned from our Paris honeymoon in January. I still worked part-time at the racquetball club, but only on Sunday afternoons when Mick spent 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 said as I stood to gather and refill beer glasses for the guys.

I’m happy for you, Husky said with sincerity. It makes life a lot 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 thought about it now that the renovation is finished.

Oh my gosh! I love what you guys did with the place, I told him excitedly. And I can’t believe how fast your guys worked.

I thought you two were buying a house, Ron said to Mick and me. He looked confused.

We wanted to, but we couldn’t find a place we liked well enough, Mick said. When Susan’s apartment building went up for sale, we bought it, so we’re staying there. Now we’re landlords. Spades, he said calling trump.

Why didn’t I know this? Ron asked. He looked 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. We’ve been talking about it for weeks. Mick’s construction company remodeled the entire top floor of the building. Mick and Susan live in one half, 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 said, looking 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, Husky said. 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 the news. We were all friends, and we always talked about everything over cards and drinks at the club. This had to be one of those freaky things where he had been working the front desk 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 his 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? Larry asked before yelling, 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 books, Mick chimed in. Rather than 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 keeps office supplies and a few cases of wine out of sight. Plus, it’s kind of fun having the hidden cut-through.

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.

I think it’s a great idea, he said with a flash of his amused smile, and I immediately knew he genuinely liked the idea. How about next Saturday? If you’re all 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 four thirty. I stood up and announced, I have to go. Darby and Nate will be over for dinner at six, 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 while if I can hitch a ride home with one of these guys, he said, glancing around the table.

I’ll run you home, Husky said in his rough, gravelly voice that had earned him his nickname years ago.

I said my good-byes, gave Mick a quick 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, 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, turned on the radio, and pulled out of the parking lot, singing along 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. The building was three stories with eleven units. I was happy when Mick kept the faux Tudor facade on the front. The landscaping had been updated and the overall appearance presented an attractive building in the midst of lackluster structures.

I particularly loved that Darby and Nate were living in the building. Darby was my best guyfriend. He had lived in the apartment across the hall from mine 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 had accepted our friendship without condition. I’m sure it helped that Darby was gay, but I was still grateful that 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 had such a hard time finding a house to buy was that I wasn’t yet ready to give up having Darby across the hall from me. When Mick suggested buying the apartment building, I nearly cried with relief.

Reuben sandwiches were on the menu tonight. I pulled into the deli parking lot a tad faster than expected and hit the brakes in front of the large plate glass window. I didn’t mean to aggravate Martin by flying up to his window, but I loved maneuvering the car and appreciated how it handled. It was controlled fun whipping into parking spaces.

The bell over the door tinkled when I entered, but there was no need for the bell to announce me. The ninety-one-year-old man was standing with hands on hips, and he didn’t look happy. Susan Hunter, he snapped at me.

Before he could chastise me, I interrupted with a laugh and said, Martin, I’m sorry. Truly I am. I promise to be more careful, and you know I keep the car and the brakes in tip-top condition. Even if he did yell at me, it wouldn’t matter. I was too happy today. And you know my name is Susan Raines now, I scolded him gently.

It always gives my heart a jump when you screech up to my window like that, he said with less of a frown. But I’ll forgive you like I always do. And I know your name is Susan Raines, but it will take some getting used to. When I see you, I see Susan Hunter. He smiled warmly at me now. What can I get for you today? Your usual?

My usual had swollen to two pounds of corned beef and one pound of Swiss cheese. Yep. Darby and Nate are coming for dinner.

I walked through the store to collect rye bread, sauerkraut, and kosher dill pickles. After the hard workout today, I had no qualms about throwing a half-gallon container of java chip ice cream into the basket for dessert.

I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’ve been out driving around at night, Martin said as he began to ring up my items.

I was surprised by his question. No. Nothing more than going from the racquetball club to the apartment. Why?

I hear a lot of gossip from my customers, and there have been a few people talking about seeing you driving that beast of a car around town in the middle of the night. His words carried a slightly accusing tone.

Martin, it isn’t me, I said. "They must