Read The Running Series Complete Collection: 3-Book Set plus Bonus Novella Online
Authors: Suzanne Sweeney
Tags: #Romance, #New Adult, #BEACH, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #FOOTBALL
Evan opens the door for me and I lead us inside. Just as I suspected, my mother is standing at the kitchen counter, peeling the potatoes. She takes one look at us and exclaims, “Juliette – you’re home.” Walking directly over to me, she wraps her arms around me and welcomes me home. “And this must be Evan.”
“Mom, this is my boyfriend, Evan McGuire. Evan, this is my mother, Genevieve Fletcher.” Evan offers to shake her hand, but my mother grabs him and hugs him, too.
“I’m so pleased to meet you, Evan. Please, call me Genny.” We sit at the table together. Evan puts his arm around the back of my chair and unconsciously touches my shoulder, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. Upon occasion, he finds a renegade strand of hair that needs to be tucked back in its proper place behind my ear. We make small talk for a few minutes with my mother about traffic and the weather.
“Juliette, why don’t you take Evan inside to say hello to your grandmother? She should be getting the china out of the cabinet for dinner soon. You can help her set the table.”
I take Evan by the hand and we make our way into the living room where we find my grandmother. She smiles when she sees us together. She and I are a lot alike in so many ways. She is strong-willed, opinionated, and not afraid to speak her mind. I spent many weekends with my grandparents when my mother and father first separated and I developed a very close bond with her.
Introductions are made and Evan is his usual personable and gregarious self. She asks Evan a few questions about where he grew up, where he went to school, and what he does for a living. He patiently answers each of her questions and tells her he works for the NFL.
“Do you?” She studies him for a moment. She is no fool. I can tell she’s working out everything in her head. His size, his grace, his athletic build. “Now, Evan, I don’t follow football, but I would guess that a big strapping boy like you doesn’t exactly have a desk job there. Would I be correct if I assumed that you are a professional football player?”
Evan looks to me for a sign about how much he should divulge. With a simple nod of my head, he knows it’s OK to explain. “Yes, ma’am. I play for the New Jersey Sentinels.”
I am quite proud of my grandmother. She cuts right to the quick, and discovers in five minutes what it took me a week and a half to figure out.
My grandmother escorts us into the dining room and shows us the plates she would like to use for dinner tonight. “Oh, Evan, Genny and I would like to thank you for the flowers. They’re lovely.”
I glance at the table, and sitting in the center is a beautiful arrangement of mixed color tulips in an exquisite green glass vase nearly overflowing with at least forty vibrantly colored flowers.
“When did you do this?” I whisper in his ear as we set the plates.
“I called Callie while you were on the phone with Auggie last night.”
I give him a kiss and whisper in his ear, “Remind me to thank you properly later.” He never ceases to amaze me.
We join my mother in the kitchen and everyone pitches in to help prepare dinner. Evan busies himself mashing potatoes and my grandmother is checking on the ham in the oven.
My grandmother has a lot of questions for Evan. One of her main concerns is for his safety. Again, I’m in awe of my grandmother. This is a conversation I should have had with Evan myself, but we’ve only just reconnected yesterday.
Evan becomes very animated and alive when he talks about football. He explains to her all the safety rules and precautions that have been put into place. He also explains to her that as back-up quarterback, he doesn’t get a lot of plays, but when he does, it’s the job of the offensive line to protect him.
Just watching my mother and grandmother react to him is amusing. He has them eating out of the palm of his hand. They are hanging on his every word. There is no doubt, he has won them over. And then some.
“That’s why it is so important that I keep myself in top physical form. It keeps me from getting seriously injured,” he explains. Hearing that convinces me that I will never again interfere with one of his workouts like I did today. I need him healthy and fit when he takes the field.
“So, do you two get to spend much time together? Professional football must be a very demanding career,” my mother asks.
“Well, mom, to tell you the truth, for the next few days, Evan and I will be seeing a lot of each other. I’m staying at his house until I can get a security system installed.”
“Is your landlord having it installed?” she questions.
“No, Mom. Evan is having it installed for me. Auggie and I had an intruder in the house when we weren’t home.”
After ascertaining that I was safe and that nothing was stolen, she asks if I notified the police. Evan gives me an ‘
I told you so
’ look when I admit that we filed a report last night.
I explain to her why I wasn’t able to bring a homemade dessert today and she completely understands.
The rest of our dinner conversation seems to focus mainly on my present career. When I explain for the tenth time that I’m hoping to transfer to Wilkinson’s Sweet Shoppe this summer, my mother seems somewhat satisfied.
After dinner, my mother and I are standing at the sink washing while my grandmother sits and Evan clears the table. The moment Evan leaves the room for more dishes, I ask my mother for her impression.
“Juliette, it’s very clear that he’s absolutely crazy about you. Do you love him?”
“It’s a little soon, but I’m pretty sure I do,” I have to admit.
“I’m not sure about this professional football career. I really don’t know a darn thing about football. But it will take a lot of sacrifices on both your parts to make this work.”
“I know, mom.” She’s right.
“Well, then go in with your eyes completely open and don’t hide anything from him. When you’re worried, tell him. When you’re happy, share it with him. Let him in, Juliette.”
She’s right. She usually is.
“D
id you have a nice dinner, Juliette?” Evan asks me as we drive towards our next destination.
“I did. Thank you. You really made an impression on them both.” I squeeze his hand and weave our fingers together.
“Your grandmother’s got a very keen sense of observation. She was onto me immediately.”
“Yes, she was.”
The Sky is the Limit
W
e drive along I-280 for nearly half an hour, and before long, we arrive in a quaint neighborhood in Cedar Grove. Evan turns into a cul-de-sac, and takes us to one of the homes at the end of the street. Every house we pass is beautifully landscaped and well maintained. In a few months when the leaves once again fill the trees and flowers grace the lawns, I imagine this to be lovely. It strikes me as a nice place to raise a family.
I’m starting to feel anxious. It’s been a long day and now I’m going to meet Evan’s parents for the first time. I pull a brush out of my purse and fix my hair. I add a little lip-gloss, check myself in the mirror one final time, and snap my bag shut with a sigh.
“Don’t be nervous, baby. They’re going to love you. You look absolutely beautiful,” Evan assures me. “This is sort of a first for me, too. I haven’t brought anyone home in a very long time, years in fact.”
Holy cow
.
“Oh,” is all I can manage to say.
As expected, Evan asks me to wait while he walks around to open my car door. Hand-in-hand, he escorts me up the sidewalk and to the front door.
The house is a beige contemporary two-story home with a large yard and full basement. “Has your sister lived here long? It’s a beautiful home.”
“She’s been here about five years now. Her business is doing quite well and they moved here when they decided to start a family.” He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go.”
Evan opens the large front door, which opens into a foyer with vaulted ceilings. A formal dining room set for dinner is to my right and straight ahead is a sitting room with a fireplace and a piano. Of course, the sight and scent of fresh flowers envelop the entire room. We can hear lots of chatter going on from the great room at the back of the house. Still holding tight, he leads me into the gathering.
“Evan! You’re here.” A petite woman with long sandy-brown hair in her early-thirties is standing at the stove, stirring what appears to be a pot of spinach. The kitchen is striking. There are two dishwashers, a double oven, a heating tray, and a generous amount of counter space. This is the kitchen I dream about having some day.
Evan leads me right over, kisses his sister, and introduces me. “Callie, this is my girlfriend, Juliette Fletcher. Juliette, this is my sister, Caroline Warren.” Callie wraps her arms around me and gives me a warm hug.
“Juliette, it’s so nice to finally meet you. My little brother over here can’t stop talking about you. Welcome to my home.” Immediately, I like Callie. She’s a very attractive young woman with blue-gray eyes and a beautiful smile.
“Thank you for including me.” Evan wraps one arm around my waist and pulls me close.
Emerging from another room, carrying two bottles of white wine is a well-dressed woman in her mid-fifties. She, too, has sandy brown hair, but hers is stylishly trimmed to just above her shoulders. She has striking blue eyes and a smile that I immediately recognize. She is, without a doubt, Evan’s mother. Excitedly, she places the bottles down on the nearest counter, and makes a beeline directly towards us. I take a step back to give Evan the opportunity for a proper greeting.
He towers over his mother and welcomes her into his arms, giving her a loving kiss on the top of her head. She steps away from Evan and takes both my hands into hers. “So, you must be the lovely Juliette I’ve been hearing so much about. It’s so nice to finally meet the girl that’s got my son here so smitten.” She gives me a friendly kiss on the cheek. “And please, you must call me Jill.”
Evan has my hand around my waist and is smiling warmly at me. My heart is full of love for this man beside me.
Jill leads us into the great room where the men are watching baseball. “Evan and Juliette are here!” Jill announces. Scattered all over the floor are preschool toys that belong to Callie and Dean’s daughter, Regan, but she’s nowhere to be seen.
Evan’s dad is tall like him, and years have aged his hair into a sophisticated salt-and-pepper. He wears glasses and has a warm smile. The men look so much alike. I can imagine this is what Evan will look like in thirty years’ time. He walks over to Evan, shakes his hand, and gives him a slap on the shoulder. “Nice to see you, son. And who is this you’ve brought with you today?”
“Dad, this is Juliette. Juliette, this is my dad, John McGuire.” His dad has a firm but friendly handshake.
“Juliette, it’s very nice to meet you. Has this young man here been treating you well? Did he offer to get you a drink yet?” The McGuire men are very charming, indeed.
“Yes, Evan’s been the perfect gentleman. You’ve raised a very polite and well-mannered son. I’m very lucky to know him.” Evan places his hand on my hip and pulls me close. Everyone is watching his every move with keen interest. It’s very unnerving.
Dean joins us and introduces himself, too. He’s nearly six feet tall himself, but the McGuire men still have a few inches over him. I notice someone hiding behind Dean’s leg, too shy to make an appearance.
I peer behind Dean and discover an adorable little girl with brown hair and big blue eyes. She’s wearing a tiny blue dress with butterflies all over it and a matching blue ribbon in her hair. “Hi. You must be Regan,” I say to the little girl as sweetly as I can. “What a pretty dress you have on today. I love butterflies.” She nods her head, but doesn’t move beyond the safety of her father’s leg.
“I see you, little Miss. Come here.” Once Regan sees Evan, she runs over to him and gives him a big hug. He scoops her up into his arms and plants kisses all over her face.
“Ewww!” Regan blurts and proceeds to wipe off all his kisses.
“Hey, no fair!” Evan bellows and replaces all the kisses she just got done wiping away. Satisfied, Evan places her back on the ground where she runs over to her coloring book and crayons.