Free For Everly by Raine Thomas Page A

the conversation. She’d reported it to Rebecca, who jumped to the wrong conclusion.
    The last thing he needed to deal with was a woman who didn’t trust him. Yes, there were some ballplayers who took advantage of the females throwing themselves at them while on road trips, but Cole wasn’t one of them. He hadn’t given Rebecca any reason to doubt him and he hadn’t appreciated her suspicion. She wanted to meet his family and be welcomed into his home—a space he shared only reluctantly—but she didn’t trust him? There was no way that was going to fly.
    Apparently, she had done some thinking during the course of the season. By the time September rolled around and the team was well-positioned for a playoff berth, she started calling and e-mailing him.
    He took the first few calls. They had a history, after all. He listened to her apologies and assured her there was no harm done. But she didn’t let up. She left multiple voicemails and sent even more e-mails, even after he asked her to let things be.
    And here he was, staring at three more messages.
    Downing the rest of his coffee, he opened the first one. Then the second. Then the third. The message remained consistent. She regretted breaking things off. She realized she had overreacted. If he wanted to take things slow, that was okay with her.
    Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he deleted all of the messages without responding. He’d been clear with her that he didn’t think a relationship would work between them. There was no sense in encouraging her.
    Since he didn’t have any other e-mails worth responding to, he moved on to his social networking sites. The team had PR people who handled the players’ Facebook fan pages, but he had one of his own that only his family and real friends knew about, so he checked it and caught up on the events he’d missed. He also had a Twitter account that he’d been neglecting lately.
    “I’m heading out, Mr. Cole,” Margaret said.
    He looked up and glanced at the clock. Damn, it was already ten-thirty.
    “Okay, Ms. Margaret. Thanks.”
    “Happy to help, as always. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    He set his iPad to the side and turned the television off. Rising from his sofa, he noticed that Margaret had replaced his coffee at some point. He’d finished more than half of the second cup without even realizing she’d refilled it. He carried the mug into the kitchen and set it in the sink. He was debating what to eat for a quick breakfast when the phone rang.
    Thinking it was Everly and she was lost, he answered it without checking the User ID.
    “Hey, hey,” crooned a familiar voice. “If it isn’t the long lost Cole Parker!”
    Leaning against the counter as his friend and teammate’s voice filled the receiver, he grinned and responded, “Hey, Marshall. What’s up, man?”
    “Not much, man, not much. Haven’t seen you in a while. Makes a guy wonder what’s up.”
    “Well, you know me. The dark, mysterious type.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” Marshall said. “You’ve got Abigail convinced you’re holed up in your house experimenting with copious amounts of sex and drugs. Since I live vicariously through you now, you’re going to confirm that rumor, right?”
    “I’ll neither confirm nor deny,” Cole said, keeping his tone light even though he knew where this was going. “Are you by any chance doing reconnaissance for your wife, my man?”
    There was a pause that answered his question. Then Marshall said in a low voice, “Look, don’t dog me, man. Rebecca’s been giving Abigail grief because you haven’t been in touch with her, so I’m obligated to listen to all of the back and forth. I don’t even know how I got roped into this.”
    Cole sighed. “I hear you. What are you obligated to do?”
    “They want to know if you’re planning on attending the New Year’s charity ball, and if so, who you’re planning to bring as your date.”
    “Seriously, man? You’re asking me about a frickin’