Hometown Boy: The All American Boy Series Read online

  Since my plane landed this morning, one person has been a constant in my mind, invading my every thought. I put the bottle to my lips, half-hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl, while the other half dreaded actually coming face-to-face with her. What would I even say? The last time I had been here, she had tears in her eyes. And it was all because of me.

  “She’s not here,” Aaron said, keeping his voice low.

  I gave him a strange look. “Who are you talking about?”

  He elbowed me. “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

  I did, and I wish I didn’t. Not only was my big brother a pain-in-the-ass at times, he knew me all too well.

  “And what if I do? Doesn’t mean anything. Maybe I’m keeping a look out so I can avoid her.”

  “If that’s what you say.”

  Fucker.

  I brushed him off and changed the subject. “Are Grandma and Grandpa here yet?”

  “Not yet.” He glanced at his phone. “Should be soon, though.” He lifted the bottle to his mouth.

  I wanted to tell him about my being traded because I usually told him everything, but this was not the time nor the place to lay my shit out.

  Something caught Aaron’s eye, and he fought a smile as he clapped my shoulder. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you in a bit. There’s something I gotta check on.”

  “Sure thing.” I nodded, and he took off. I didn’t need to turn and look to know that the something was really a someone.

  With nothing left to distract me, I mingled with a few family members I hadn’t seen in a while and some friends of my parents who doubled as fans. I was sure most wouldn’t care that I’d been traded. It wasn’t as if I were quitting or actually making the choice to play for a team we all loathed, but some of them wouldn’t bother to hide their disappointment.

  My grandfather escorted my grandma through the front doors, huge smiles on both their faces. They were the poster couple of what love looked like. Two people who had seen it all, endured it all, and still survived fifty years together.

  It was something almost everyone wished they had, myself included.

  My grandparents took a few minutes to thank their friends and family for being there and celebrating their happy occasion, and when it registered that I was standing there smiling, she gasped and lit up brighter than the lights on a Christmas tree.

  “Chauncy! You made it.” Grandma pulled in me for a hug. “Oh, my boy. I’ve missed you.”

  “I missed you too, Grandma. There’s no way I would’ve missed this,” I whispered as I held on to the woman who meant as much to me as my own mother did.

  “I know you wouldn’t.” She took a step back and held me at arm’s length. “Now let me look at you.”

  “Joanie, let the poor boy be,” Grandpa said lightly and clapped my back. “How are you son?”

  “Good.”

  “Caught the game last night. That was some good pitching you did there,” he said.

  “Thanks. It was a pretty good game.” I smiled.

  “Will you be in town for a while?” Grandma asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m here only ‘til Wednesday.”

  “Well, you’ll have to come over. We’ll have mimosas and lunch while we catch up. It’s been way too long since you’ve filled me in on all those shenanigans you boys do.” She touched my cheek lovingly. Joanie Malone was the sweetest woman alive, and she loved listening to stories about me and the guys. Said she loved to live vicariously through me.

  “I’d like that. And maybe we can squeeze in a few hours of Hawaii 5-0 reruns?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t say no. It was our thing. From the very first episode, she had a huge crush on McGarrett, always commenting on how “handsome that boy was.”

  “I’ll make sure the DVR is ready.” Her smile reached her eyes and she took Grandpa’s hand in hers.

  “We should find our seats. Looks like the fun is about to start,” she said, smiling at us.

  I nodded, and after they walked away, I made my way toward the makeshift bar for another beer.

  Not long after, I was up.

  Fresh beer bottle in hand, I headed to the podium at the front of the room and waited to gather everyone’s attention.

  “Good evening.” I gave everyone in the room my winning smile as I paused for them to quiet and turn their eyes toward me.

  “I’d like to take a moment to thank each of you for joining us tonight, to celebrate two of the most important people in my life. Edward and Joanie Malone.” The crowd clapped, and once the noise died down, I continued, “A lot of you know them as the owners of the last family-owned drugstore here in town, but I call them Grandma and Grandpa.” I met my grandparents’ gazes. “They have been a great influence in our community and my life. Teaching me the true meaning of hard work and dedication, humility, and what it means to follow your dreams.” I took a minute to catch a breath and let the words settle as emotion burst in my chest. “They are true inspiration and some of the best people around.” I held my bottle high, looking at my grandparents. “They deserve to be honored, and tonight, I ask you all to raise your glass in honor of Edward and Joanie, and fifty years of sharing their life together. Through good and bad, in sickness and in health, they have shown us what true love looks like.” I smiled. “May you be blessed with many more years. I love you both. Cheers!”

  The entire place erupted in cheers and drank to the occasion.

  After that, I looked around the room, not one dry eye, my grandparents included.

  Before leaving the spotlight, I introduced my two teenage cousins who had written a song for our grandparents and would be performing it for the first time. The sisters took the stage, and I made my way to the honoree’s table.

  “Chauncy”—my grandmother beamed—“that was lovely, thank you.”

  I hugged her. “Just wanted you to know how much I love you guys.”

  “We love you too, son,” my grandpa said. “And we’re glad you could get the time off to be here.”

  “Me too.”

  And I would have done anything to be here.

  Grandpa clapped my back right before the music started, and they both took their seats. One look at my two cousins on stage—one at the piano and the other at the microphone, and flashbacks of a certain blonde-haired, hazel-eyed girl who had always been by my side flooded my mind. The girl who had the voice of an angel and a heart of gold. The girl who never would have done what I had done.

  I needed a breather.

  Giving my cousins a thumbs-up, I wove through a few tables straight to the French doors at the back of the room. They opened to a large wraparound deck that overlooked rolling hills and grape fields below and a star-studded sky above. With my hands pressed flush against the ledge of the railing, I pushed the memories back down deep to where they had been all these years. So deep that they were guaranteed never to return.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  CHAUNCY

  Solitude could be a double-edged sword. No matter where I went, I couldn’t escape her beauty, her voice, her presence, and it didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen her in years because the memories had jailed me to my own personal prison. And all because of being back at this ranch, in this small town where I could barely find a corner to hide, let alone run from the visions that had become so vivid and taunting.

  As I took a long pull of my beer, the cool evening breeze barely bled through the thick material of my suit, but I felt the chill deep in my bones. If I didn’t get out of my head and find a way to put this girl to rest, I’d never move on. I would either always come back to this place filled with regrets or never come back at all.

  But this is my home too.

  I finished what was left of the bottle and made my way back inside, heading straight for the bar.

  “Water, please,” I said to the bartender. He set the glass on the countertop. With my glass in hand, I turned to lean against the edge of the bar, scoping out the r
oom. My parents were dancing and laughing as if no one else was in the room. A few people I didn’t recognize were chatting away in one corner, and Aaron was over to my right, having a conversation with a woman who I couldn’t make out. What I did know was that his body was tense.

  When I heard the voice of the woman with him, I knew why.

  If Nora was here, then maybe her sister was too.

  But Aaron already said she wouldn’t be.

  She couldn’t be. I wasn’t ready.

  Not wanting to take the chance that she’d show up, I headed out of the banquet room for the adjacent bar.

  The low whir of music played while ESPN aired soundlessly on the single flat-screen behind the bar. I sighed in relief, thankful it wasn’t the Bucks playing.

  Concentrating on the game, I didn’t get too far before a hand landed on my shoulder and a familiar voice stopped me. “Malone?”

  My eyes went from tiny slits to silver dollars. A slow grin spread across my face. “Booth?” I stared in disbelief as my arms reached for one of my high school best friends and pulled him in for a tight hug. “Holy shit! How the hell are you, man?” I hadn’t seen or heard from Silas Booth since he left for basics two weeks after graduation. That was eight years ago.

  He clapped my back and took a step back. “Doing well. What about yourself?”

  “Eh, not too bad.” That was the truth. I wasn’t good, but I wasn’t bad, either. I was just stuck in the middle somewhere, trying to figure shit out. “You on leave?”

  “Naw, man, I’m home for good.” I lifted a brow. “Honorable discharge. I went through an IED and got my arm ripped off.” He held his left arm up, showing me what I’d failed to notice seconds ago. “I thought I was dead until I woke up in some hospital in Germany. What a fucking nightmare.”

  I gulped and stared. It was the one thing you should never do, but fear had taken hold of me, and I couldn’t stop myself. One of my oldest and dearest friends had almost lost his life, and no one ever thought to mention it.

  Silas chuckled. “Dude, it’s just an arm, and they gave me a replacement.” He wiggled a set of black leather fingers attached to a metal arm, and I hated that he was trying to make light of a near-tragic situation. Then again, I guess deflecting was his way of coping.

  “Yeah, man,” I choked out, trying to offer my apologies, but he canted his head and slapped me on the shoulder again, silently telling me to let it go.

  “So, what are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Blind date.” He frowned.

  I chuckled. “That bad?”

  “The worst,” he exaggerated. “I need to stick to hooking up. Not this relationship bullshit. These women only want one thing, and I ain’t got it. Wanna grab a drink? For old times’ sake?”

  “Lead the way.”

  We snagged a couple of stools at the bar and ordered a round.

  After the bartender delivered our beers, Silas tilted his bottle toward mine. “To old friends.”

  “To old friends,” I repeated, tapping the neck before taking a long pull, enjoying every second the chilled liquid slid down my throat.

  “You still playing in the major leagues?”

  He knew damn well that I was still playing ball.

  “Looks like someone got amnesia while they were out being a hero.” I chuckled.

  “Good one.”

  “Got called up three-and-a-half years ago,” I boasted proudly, puffing my chest.

  He laughed, shaking his head. “You mean to tell me they actually called you up? League’s getting desperate I see.” He laughed again and clapped my back. “I’m just fucking with you. Believe it or not, I always made sure to catch a game on the screen whenever I was home. You did good for yourself, man. I’m proud of you.”

  “Thanks. That means a lot.” I tapped the neck of my bottle to his and then took a drink.

  It felt like old times, catching up right where we left off, and I kept my fingers crossed he wouldn’t ask about the Bucks, although technically, I wouldn’t be a White Cap until my feet touched Denver soil.

  “How long you in town for?” he asked.

  “Three more days.”

  “Short trip.”

  “Yeah. I’m here for my grandparents’ fiftieth-anniversary party.”

  “Can’t miss that. How are your grandparents?”

  “They’re good. Real good, actually.”

  We both took a drink.

  “You hear about Jordan Rhoades?” he asked.

  “No, what happened?”

  Jordan was an eight-year veteran for the San Francisco Giants. Had one heck of a pitching arm until Tommy Johns surgery and never making a full recovery took him out of the game.

  “He bought a vineyard here. Named it Easy Rhoades or something like that.”

  “No shit,” I said. “I wonder what made him want to buy a vineyard.”

  “Beats me.” Silas shrugged then dropped his bottle on the bar top, making me flinch. “Dude. You’ll never guess who I ran into at The Wine Cellar the other night, looking all cozy and shit.” I shrugged, having no clue, and he elbowed me. “Zoey Ashley.”

  My eyes went wide. “The Zoey Ashley?”

  “Yup. And she wasn’t with Carter, either. Looked like some rich preppy kid from Napa or some shit.” He recoiled in disgust.

  Zoey Ashley was a year older than us, one of the most popular girls back in high school, and beauty-pageant gorgeous. She probably still had a few crowns on her shelf. And if I remembered correctly, Silas had the worst and longest crush on her.

  “Well, shit.” I sighed. “Last I heard, they were engaged.”

  “They were, but I doubt there’s wedding bells for those two.”

  “You sure they were on a date? I mean, what if it was a cousin or something?”

  “I doubt cousins shove their tongues down each other’s throats.” He chuckled and then knocked back his drink.

  “Guess not.” I couldn’t say I was surprised she left him. Carter McCain had always been a grade-A prick, so he must have brought some stupid shit on himself to lose the girl.

  “So . . .” I started, scheming with a smirk on my face.

  “So . . . what?” Silas looked at me like I was crazy.

  “You gonna ask her out? Now’s your chance.”

  He choked on his laugh. “Are you forgetting something?” He lifted his prosthetic hand and wiggled his fingers. “No woman like Zoey Ashley is ever gonna want a damaged guy like me.”

  “You don’t know that,” I quipped and took a drink. Even missing an arm, the guy was worth twenty Carters.

  “There is no way in hell she’d go out with me. She never noticed me before, so what makes you think she’d notice me now?”

  “Uh, maybe because you’re a man now and not some scrawny shit pimpled face high school kid?”

  “You wound me.” He held his heart, exaggerating. “You know I was always sensitive about my size.” He elbowed me, laughing.

  “Well, I think you’re size is just fine now.”

  “Naw. There’s no way she’d give me the time of day.”

  I shrugged. “You never know unless you try.”

  “Easy for you to say mister professional baseball player who can score any woman he wants.”

  True. Too bad, I couldn’t have the one girl who would ever mean anything.

  “Naw, man.” What most people didn’t realize was that it got lonely at the top. I still had a way to go, but I was high enough to know how it felt. And being back here served as a reminder of how lonely I’d been.

  “Yeah, right.” He laughed.

  “Don’t get me wrong. The women are very accommodating, but at some point, it’s just . . .” I shrugged. This place was making me feel too much.

  I swirled the bottom of my bottle on the hardwood while I contemplated telling him about the trade.

  I kept my eyes trained on the flat-screen as I took another long swallow. When I pulled the bottle away from my lips, I caved. “I was trad
ed.”

  From the corner of my eye, I watched for his reaction and nothing. “I know,” he replied quietly and took a drink.

  My brows pinched. “Say that again.”

  “I know,” he repeated matter-of-factly.

  “And how the heck do you know that?”

  He pointed at the television. “Saw it scrolling at the bottom of the screen about an hour ago.”

  I hung my head and sighed. “What the fuck. How did it get out already? They weren’t supposed to say anything for another day or two.”

  “Not sure, man. So, White Caps, huh?”

  I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “Okay. I won’t.”

  Silas was a straightforward guy, and I appreciated when he brought me up to speed on our hometown happenings before turning the conversation on himself, retelling stories of his time in the Army and the places he’d been. He didn’t fail to leave out the mischief he and his fellow soldiers would get into and how many times they had to dodge getting arrested because of it.

  It was after he shared the near-death experience that cost him his arm that he decided to call it a night.

  “I better get out of here.” He stood, swallowing the last of his beer. “Your brother will have my ass if I’m late—he runs a tight ship.”

  My brows narrowed. “My brother?”

  “Yeah, I’m working at the ranch, tending to the horses.”

  Aaron was the head of operations for Braun Ranch, which was a fancy title for a shit job, in the literal sense. He trained the horses and made sure the ranch ran smoothly.

  “Well, good for you, man,” I praised. It was good that Silas was back in the community, keeping himself busy while earning a living.

  “It’s always good seeing you, brother. Thanks for the beers.” He clapped my back one more time. “Give me a call before you head out. Maybe we can grab a bite to eat or something.”

  “You bet.” I pulled my friend into a hug, grateful that after all he had been through, he was still alive. He might have lost his arm, but what mattered most was he didn’t lose his spirit.