Crazy for Cole: Hockey on Tap, #2

By Kate Willoughby

When former NHL player Cole Ripley needs a stand-in girlfriend ASAP, his friend Fedora Echeveria agrees to play along for one night. Problem is, she’s the executive chef at the brew pub he co-owns and all three partners have agreed never to date the help.

As for Fedora, she’s been there, done that. Early in her culinary career, she fell under the spell of her boss and when the relationship soured, he fired her. There’s no way she’s going down that road again. And yet on the fake date with Cole, they share a kiss that lights her panties on fire.

When she and Cole journey to Seattle for business, the desire that’s been simmering under the surface compels them to throw all their misgivings out the window. After all, it’s just sex and how hard could it be to keep their friends with benefits relationship under wraps?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kiwi Press
• Release date: Oct 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386618416

Book preview

1

Cole woke up with Harry’s ass in his face. His tiger-striped cat seemed to think this was an acceptable morning greeting, since he’d been performing it for years now. It didn’t matter what position Cole slept in; the cat would find Cole’s face and manage to thrust his butt into it as both a sign of superiority and a wordless demand for breakfast.

He groggily realized his cell phone was ringing. The screen identified the caller as Ruth Wu Ripley.

Hi, Mom. Do you know what time it is? he thought.

Cole, sweetheart. I have a wonderful surprise for you. I’m coming to visit!

Cole took in this information as he turned away from Harry’s behind and closed his eyes. That’s great, Mom. When?

In about a minute.

His grogginess disappeared. Wait. What do you mean?

I mean my taxi is pulling up right now! She gave a tiny squeal of excitement.

Cole almost dropped the phone as he scrambled out of bed and ran to the window. Sure enough there she was standing on the sidewalk, waving at him.

He waved back in what he hoped was an enthusiastic manner. I’ll be right down.

Still half-asleep, he hustled down the stairs. Harry followed at a trot, probably assuming breakfast was immediately forthcoming.

What the hell? His mom never came to visit him. He always went to visit her in San Francisco. She liked that. She liked to parade her big strong son around in front of her brothers, sisters and cousins. He’d gotten his dad’s height so he towered over most of his mom’s side of the family. Also, he’d played motherfucking NHL hockey for twelve years, which had shocked and impressed the Wu clan, who leaned more toward professions that required a considerable amount of postgraduate study. The joke was their last name was so short, they felt obligated to add letters to it, like MD, PhD, Esq., CPA and the like.

So, what was she doing here now? Their annual trip to his house in Lake Tahoe was scheduled for June and it was only April.

A horrible thought came to him. Maybe she was sick. Maybe she had cancer or something and she didn’t want to tell him over the phone. Could that be it? She’d been smiling out there on the sidewalk, but his mom wasn’t the type to mope around, no matter what the circumstances.

He rushed to the door and pulled it open.

Hi, honey!

He bent to hug her longer than usual, wondering if a cancer was ruthlessly destroying her from the inside.

Ruth laughed, kissing his unshaven cheek. Such an enthusiastic welcome. I should surprise you more often!

Are you okay, Mom? he asked, finally stepping back. He looked her up and down. She seemed normal in gray slacks, white blouse and plaid coat. Silvery bangs hung over her dark brown eyes, which seemed bright and animated, but appearances could be deceiving. You’re not sick, are you?

Me? No, I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m fine. Hello, Harry. She bent to pet the cat who had been completing a figure-eight leg rub maneuver, hoping for attention.

Are you sure?

Yes, I’m sure.

A tsunami of relief swept over him, leaving him shaky in the aftermath. Thank God. He didn’t pray often, but right then, he sent up a little mental message of gratitude.

Where’s your luggage?

It’s at the hotel.

You’re staying at a hotel? Mom, you know I have plenty of room for you.

Waving a dismissive hand, she went into the house. I didn’t want to intrude. It was different before when you were single, but you have a girlfriend now. Speaking of which, is Fedora here? I’m dying to meet her.

Crap. He’d forgotten about the Fedora thing, a clear sign he needed coffee.

One day, about a month ago, his mom had really gotten on his case about finding someone to settle down with. Even though he was forty-two years old and not even remotely in the market for a wife, his mother was determined he not enter his golden years all by himself. While he didn’t relish growing old alone either, neither was he actively on the hunt. The only reason he’d escaped Ruth’s intense focus until now was because his siblings appeared on her radar first, but now Shannon was married with a toddler which left Ruth with only one loose end—him. She’d even gotten a little weepy about it, which wasn’t like her at all, so on impulse, he had told her he was seeing someone.

What? You are? That’s wonderful, sweetheart. What’s her name? She’d suddenly sounded so elated.

Caught unprepared, he’d said the first name that came into his mind. Fedora.

Fedora Echeveria was the young executive chef at the Hat Trick Tasting Room, the brewpub he and his two friends owned. Cole, Flynn and Slater had been linemates for the San Diego Barracudas back in the day and, after retiring, they’d joined forces again to open a craft brewery that, against all odds, was thriving. Their first chef, Cory, hadn’t worked out. He was a decent cook, but inept on the business end. The wait staff often had to inform customers that they’d run out of an item. Alternatively, there was pressure to sell a certain item because he’d over-ordered. Their food waste percentage was not ideal. Staff complained about schedules going up late. The list went on and on.

After firing Cory, the three partners had focused on finding someone who could cook and run the restaurant. They’d miraculously found Fedora. She was young and had never held an executive chef position, but her previous employer had raved about her and declared her more than ready to run the show at a place like Hat Trick.

That had been a year ago. Since then, he and Fedora had become friends, which was probably why her name had popped into his head. He shouldn’t have volunteered her as his fake girlfriend, but he’d known Fedora would understand when he told her. What had mattered was that his mom didn’t sound like she was about to cry anymore. She had sounded interested and…happy.

Tell me about her, his mom had said.

Well…Fedora’s great. She’s really down to earth and easygoing, more like one of the guys than a girlfriend. He had only hesitated a little when he said that word. And she’s a great cook. We sometimes cook stuff together.

She sounds perfect for you, son. How old is she?

Cole had no idea how old Fedora was. She was a lot younger than him. She might not even be out of her twenties, now that he thought about it.

I don’t know. I never asked.

Good boy.

He had weathered a few more questions about Fedora and that had been that. But now, here was his mom in San Diego wanting to meet her.

Ruth put her purse down and went into the kitchen. Have you had breakfast? I can make you something.

He was kind of hungry and his mom was a great cook. Harry went to his food bowl and sat expectantly.

Thanks, Mom, breakfast would be great. I’ll just…get a shower, if that’s okay.

His mom was already poking around his refrigerator muttering to herself.

After feeding Harry, he hustled back upstairs and called Fedora.

Hello, said a tired, irritated voice. "You’ve reached the phone of Fedora. Who is asleep. Please hang up and don’t call back for an hour."

Chevy, it’s me. He’d long ago shortened Echeveria to Chevy. Sorry to wake you up, but this is important.

She sighed heavily. Important enough that it couldn’t wait?

My mom’s here. She showed up on my doorstep fifteen minutes ago. I thought she had cancer, but she really just wants to meet you.

Wait. Hold on a sec. Cancer? You’re not even making sense, Cole.

He was pacing in front of his bed. I thought she came here to tell me in person that she had cancer which freaked me the fuck out, but she’s fine. All she wants to do is meet the wonderful Fedora. So we need a plan.

She laughed softly. "No, my friend, you need a plan. This is your shit show. I told you you should have broken up with me a long time ago, but noooo…"

Okay, okay, you were right and I was wrong and now I’m screwed.

There was a long pause.

Fedora, are you still there?

Yes. I’m just savoring the moment.

Cole went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Very funny. You can gloat later. Right now I need help. Please.

Okay. How long is she staying?

I don’t know. She didn’t say. But she’s at a hotel. I think she was afraid of…inconveniencing us. She thought you might be here.

Fedora’s laughter made Cole scowl.

A real friend wouldn’t get so much joy out of another friend’s problems, he said.

This friend does.

Seriously, Chevy. What should I do?

You could tell her the truth.

Cole’s laughter was sharp. Not gonna happen. The very idea of telling his mother he’d lied to her for a month made him queasy. If he confessed, she’d get the look on her face of sad disappointment that never failed to make him feel as if he’d kicked a puppy.

You could tell her you broke up with me. Wasn’t that your original plan anyway?

It had been, yes, but truthfully, it had been fun pretending.

The day after he’d concocted the story, he’d told Fedora and she’d shrugged, totally cool with it, as he’d known she would be.

Just don’t let it get out of hand, she’d said. I don’t mind being a fake girlfriend, but a fake fiancée or wife…that’s where I draw the line. And don’t even think about making me pregnant.

So for the next month whenever Cole talked to his mom, which was about once a week, he kept up the charade that he and Fedora were dating. After talking to his mom, he’d also report to Fedora.

Just so you know, we went to the theatre last night.

Really? Did I have a good time? What did we see?

"We saw The Lion King."

Which had caused her to start singing The Circle of Life at the top of her lungs.

The next week they pretend-went to the beach and had a picnic, but it rained, so they ate in the car, and so on. Unfortunately, now, everything was blowing up in his face.

Yeah, Fedora said, yawning. Just tell her it didn’t work out between us.

I don’t want to do that either, he said. Not to her face anyway.

Oh my gosh, are you afraid of your mother?

Absolutely, I am.

She cracked up.

"But it’s more about disappointing her. I just…I just hate seeing her sad. She’s the most cheerful, encouraging, upbeat person I know and when she’s unhappy, it tears me up inside. I mean, remember that Greek myth where Persephone goes to the underworld and her mother is so upset that the world experiences winter? That’s what it’s like. So, come on, please just meet her. We’ll go to dinner. Tonight, if you’re free. It won’t be hard because you already know everything I told her about