Bedding The Biker Next Door by Virna Depaul Read Free Book Online Page B

about injuries. Cole grew to his full height later in life, along with his bulk, but only after hours spent sweating at the gym. At thirteen years old, though, he was six inches shorter and ten pounds lighter than most of his peers. The coach benched him the entire first game.
    That evening, after Cole and his mother got home from the game, his mother saw how upset he was. Putting aside her own fears about him playing football with boys so much bigger, she sat down at the kitchen table and used a crayon and napkin to give him a crash course in Football 101. A cheerleader back in her day, his mom had once been in love with the captain of her school’s football team. Apparently she’d paid a lot of attention to the game.
    After giving him a lesson, she told him that when the game started the following Saturday, he should stand next to the coach on the sidelines and be the “squeaky wheel.” “Of course, you need to know what you’re doing, but the best way to learn is by getting out there and getting some experience, right? Every time he even looks like he’s going to put someone in, remind him you’re there and ready,” she told him.
    Cole had taken her advice.
    At the next practice, he impressed the offensive coach with how much better he understood the game. And at the game that Saturday, Cole followed the head coach up and down the sidelines like a little shadow telling him he was ready. The coach finally put him in just to shut him up. Cole played like a champ that night, and from then on, he was never benched again.
    Now, Cole put the photograph back on the shelf. He took a deep breath. He was going to have to just do this.
    He was heading into the garage to grab some boxes when the doorbell rang. Frowning, he headed to the front door.
    He opened it, ready to ward off a misguided solicitor. Instead, he took in a swift breath when he saw her. Shock rattled through him.
    Jill?
    His one-night stand stood on his mother’s front porch—her face in profile so she hadn’t noticed him yet. She wore a purple shirt and jeans that were spotted with chalk, paint, and what looked like flour. Didn’t matter. She looked beautiful. Memories of the way her curves had felt and her hair had smelled barreled down on him.
    She’d been amazing in bed. The best he’d ever had. But the question remained—what the hell was she doing here?
     
    * * *
     
    At the sound of the door opening, Jill turned her head. She felt the blood drain from her face. Just as quickly, a deep blush heated it back up. She stared at her tattooed-biker-sex-god from the night before, hardly able to believe her eyes. What was he doing in Stella’s house?
    Oh God, she thought. Now I’ve gone and done it. I had a one-night stand with a stalker.
    But could he be considered a stalker given she’d shown up at his door? Yes, she decided. If he’d been watching her. Waiting for her…
    No, there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for him being here. It’d been a few months since Stella died, and Jill still felt horrible that she’d been out of state on a rare vacation for a cousin’s wedding when it had happened. She hadn’t even made it back for the funeral. Today was the first time someone had come into the house since then. She wanted to make sure everything was okay. She sure hadn’t expected to see her one-night stand open the door. Was he a repairman, contracted to fix up the house before a sale?
    Slowly, it dawned on her that Cole still stood there, one hand on the doorjamb, puzzlement etched across his face. Realizing he was waiting for her to speak, she sucked in a deep breath and steadied her nerves.
    “Um, what are you doing here?” she asked, measuring her voice to keep it even.
    He didn’t exactly look pleased to see her. In fact, he looked wary, like maybe he was thinking she was the stalker… “You came to my door,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
    He did think she was the crazy one!
    “I live next door,” she