Her Best Friend Jon Read online

  Her Best Friend Jon

  Book 4 in the Coach's Boys Series

  Kristy K. James

  Copyright 2013 – Kristy K. James

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be copied or reprinted without express written permission from author.

  Her secret could change lives forever...

  When Hannah Fletcher discovered that her whole life was a lie, she ran as far and as fast as she could - to a place she'd long forgotten about. And now that she's found a way to get close to the right people, can she keep her real identity a secret as she works to accomplish one very important goal?

  He's spent his entire life on the outside looking in...

  Jon Rambo lived by three simple rules, work hard, don't get involved in other people's problems, and never get too close to anyone. His job, and a small circle of friends, had always been more than enough for him. But when a woman he believes is up to no good needs help, he steps in to offer his assistance, even though it means deceiving everyone he knows.

  I'd like to take a moment to say thank you to Shineka, Alice, Kathie, Amanda, and Ginny for taking the time to read the ARC, and to let me know what worked and what didn't. In particular, I appreciate letting me know where all of the typos and missing/extra words were. For some reason I see what I meant to write when editing and rewriting, and so I never seem to find them all. I especially want to thank Kathie for reading this book more times than anyone should ever have to, and for suggestions that made the story better. Thanks so much, ladies!

  Connect with Kristy…

  http://kristykjames.net/

  https://www.facebook.com/kristykjames

  Be sure to follow Kristy on Bookbub to get notifications for her new releases!

  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/kristy-k-james

  Other Works by Kristy K. James

  Coach's Boys Series

  The Daddy Pact, Book 1

  A Hero for Holly, Book 2

  A Harry Situation, Book 3

  Her Best Friend Jon, Book 4

  Code Red Christmas, Book 5

  Darby's Dilemma, Book 6

  The Detective's Second Chance, Book 7

  Back to the Beginning, Book 8

  Holding Out For Love, Coach's Boys Companion Story (should be read between books 6 & 7)

  Cooking With the Coach's Boys

  A Royal Sweethearts Romance Novel Series

  The Casteloria Royals

  A Prince on the Run, Book 1

  The Physician to the King, Book 2

  The Princess and the Bodyguard, Book 3

  Hemisphere/Paranormal Romance

  The Ripple

  Haunted Depot: The Ghost Curse Series

  The Secret, Book 1

  The Depot, Book 2

  A Merry Depot Christmas, Book 3

  Special Wishes Time Travel Romance

  His Only Love

  Her Long Road Home

  Other Fiction:

  Enza

  Josh

  The Secret Admirer

  Erin's Christmas Wish

  A Fine Mess

  Reluctant Guardian

  Chapter 1

  With nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, Jon Rambo stood at the window in his living room shivering. Of course his hair was still dripping from the shower he'd exited a few minutes ago, sending cold beads of water sliding down his neck and back, and that didn't help. Neither did the chill emanating from the glass.

  A normal person would have been dressed by now, but the way he figured it, he still had forty-five minutes until he had to pull out of the driveway. That left him about half an hour before he had to put the suit on, and the longer he postponed putting it on, the longer he could ignore the reason for it.

  It seemed like life had dealt some pretty ugly hands to pretty much everyone he knew since last summer. Sure there had been a couple of bright spots. Chris Parker, his longtime friend and partner at C&J Construction, and their employee, Harry Saunders, had gotten married just before the holidays. They'd already started the ball rolling so he could adopt her young son Scotty, but that's pretty much all he could recall. The rest had been bad, in some degree or another.

  Scotty had received a bone marrow transplant the week before, in hopes of curing his Leukemia. That could turn out to be a good thing if it worked. Right now though, it was just a scary situation with no guarantees. Then there was the creep who was stalking yet another friend, Ed Winslow. A psychopath who seemed to have added everyone in their group to his list of targets.

  Jon had grown up with Cal O'Hara, Dan Mulholland, and Sam Jensen – and they'd known Ed since their grade school days when he'd coached their little league team. From the time they were eleven or twelve, until they'd moved on to the teen teams, Ed had been there, moving right along with them – and he'd been a good friend ever since.

  That someone wanted to kill him was bad enough. That he also wanted to terrorize everyone Ed knew was even worse. Add to that the fact that he had to attend the funeral of Renee O'Hara, Cal's mother, in a couple of hours, and just rounded out a world of ugly. If anyone asked him what he thought about life in general, he'd have to say it sucked – because, today, it did.

  With a sigh, he turned away from the scene before him, hoping the light snowfall stopped before everyone had to head for the church, and after the service, to the cemetery. The last thing they needed to deal with was slick roads when their minds might not be fully on driving.

  Heading back to the bathroom, he figured he could at least put his slacks and tee shirt on, and get his feet dressed. Much as he hated the thought, it was still better than turning into a block of ice in the drafty monstrosity he currently called home.

  ~~~~~

  "In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, we commend to Almighty God our sister, Renee, and we commit her body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

  Jon reached up, trying to loosen his tie enough so he could breathe. He hated wearing a suit. He hated funerals even more, especially when the deceased happened to be the mother of one of his best friends.

  Renee, along with Monica Mulholland and Gina Jenson, had given him more care and affection than either of his own parents ever had, and standing here at her graveside was one of the hardest things he'd ever forced himself to do. When he'd crawled out of bed this morning, he'd seriously considered calling Dan to say he'd come down with a bug. To lie. Except he couldn't. She didn't deserve that from him, or anyone else.

  Though her cancer diagnosis had been unexpected, with all the advances in medicine, everyone assumed she'd be cured and live a good long life. They couldn't have been more wrong. By the time the tumor had been discovered, the cancer had spread everywhere, and the speed with which it took her had been a nightmare.

  This was the first time he'd ever lost anyone close to him, and as he listened to the minister's kind words, he had a hard time trying to hold himself together. But the pain he felt was nothing compared to that of her real family.

  Even now, Cal acted as if he couldn’t believe she was gone. The expression on his face, as they’d walked to the gravesite, had been one of shock and horror, and it had hurt Jon’s heart to see him in so much pain. To know that no matter what he said or did, it wouldn't help. It had been this same way when his brother, Kelly Junior, had been killed in a car crash when they'd all been teenagers. Still, they'd all been there for him, just as they were now.

  To his left, Dan Mulholland stood at attention, an arm wrapped around Jess, who wept softly, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Next to them, in a pretty much mirror image, stood Sam and Holly Jensen. On his other
side, looking like statues in the brisk January wind, were Ed Winslow, whose hands were clasped together in front of him, and Chris Parker, who had shoved his in the pockets of his slacks.

  Harry was the only one missing from their ragtag family, but Scotty’s transplant had been just a few days ago and she hadn’t set foot outside the hospital since. Chris was only here for the graveside service, and would be heading back to join them as soon as it was over.

  It was a perfect day for a funeral, if there was such a thing. A dreary day, dark clouds blotting out even the tiniest hint of sun. Even the fresh layer of snow, which should have brightened the cemetery a little, wasn’t enough to offset it.

  After the final prayer was prayed, he watched as Cal stepped forward with his wife and father, each reaching down to scoop up a handful of dirt from the mound just outside the awning. In unison, they poured it slowly on the lid of the mahogany coffin and then, tears rolling down his cheeks, Cal kissed his fingertips and gently touched the gleaming wood, as though he might touch the woman resting beneath the cover.

  Jon could feel tears burning his eyes, and he tried to swallow the lump that lodged in his throat as the pastor stepped forward to invite everyone back to the church for a supper prepared for them by the congregation.

  The thought of his friend having to eat food prepared by strangers, much of it likely packaged convenience foods, filled him with anger. Cal was always the first one to step up and offer to provide a meal in times of tragedy, and it seemed wrong that in his time of sorrow, he’d be served normal, everyday food prepared by normal people. Not that the food wouldn’t be good. He was sure it would be fine, and he knew that Cal would be grateful for their efforts, it just seemed wrong that no one had thought to provide him with the same thing he so freely gave to everyone else.

  "That was rough," Ed said with a sigh, as their small group gathered just under the edges of the canopy. Jon noted that his eyes were red rimmed, as were every other pair he saw. He supposed his were, too, but he didn’t want to look in a mirror to confirm it.

  Cal, Darby, and Kelly were accepting the condolences from friends and acquaintances who had come to pay their respects. People who might be sad for their loss, but who would go on with their lives, barely giving a thought to Renee's family as they continued to mourn for a long time to come.

  As more and more people wandered in, they were forced to move, Jess and Holly standing under a tree talking with Dan and Sam’s mothers, working out a schedule to provide meals for Cal and Darby for the next couple of weeks. He wanted to tell them that it was a waste of time. Cal would be cooking like mad, as he had been doing the past few months, because it was the perfect outlet for his grief. But he kept his mouth shut. It made them feel better to think they were helping.

  He wished he could figure out something to do for them, but it was hard. This was the second significant loss Cal and his father had been forced to endure, and there wasn't one of them who didn't feel helpless. What could any of them do to comfort or help their friends?

  Not much, that’s what, he thought. He’d give anything to take their pain away, but he couldn't. All he could do was be there for Cal, whether he needed to talk, or just know someone was near. There wasn’t one of them who wouldn’t break their back to make this easier for him.

  ~~~~~

  Hannah Fletcher kicked her black, high heeled boots off at the door, turned the deadbolt until she felt it click into place, and crossed the room to flop down on the sofa. She let her purse fall to the floor with a thud, not even bothering to remove the mail she'd tucked in the side pocket on her way up the stairs. She hadn’t been able to get her mind off the funeral all day.

  It had to be over by now. Everyone would be at the supper, pretending everything would be okay, all the while knowing it wouldn't be. It would be months, maybe even years, before life felt normal to them again.

  She wasn’t sure why she was so sad. She barely knew Cal O’Hara, though he seemed like a sweet man.

  Maybe it was because she'd witnessed Jon's reaction when Dan Mulholland had made the call three days ago. The same day Scotty Parker had his bone marrow transplant. They'd both been worried out of their minds about that, but it had been immediately overshadowed when the awful news had come. Clearly her boss cared about the entire O'Hara family, so that could be playing a large part in her melancholy mood today.

  Except, if she were honest, she knew the real reason was because the memories of her father’s death were still so fresh. It had been almost a year, yet it felt like it could have been yesterday. She could feel again how much it had hurt to say goodbye the day of his funeral, how the emptiness and hopelessness had filled her when everyone had gone home, leaving her alone with her mother.

  Mary hadn’t even come to pay her last respects. Of course there had been no way to contact her to let her know either. Her sister was too often between jobs, drifting from place to place along the California coast. She always called from pay telephones because cell service cost money she preferred to spend on other things. He’d been gone for almost two months before Hannah had been able to break the sad news to her.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. From experience, she knew it would be months before the pain Cal felt would begin to ease, though getting back to his routine would help. And knowing what she did of him, that would happen sooner rather than later. He and all of his friends were all hard workers. In situations like this, that would be a good thing.

  Shaking off the sad feelings, Hannah got to her feet and walked to her 'kitchen,' a little hole in the wall that took up part of one corner of the room. There were no windows, and barely any counter space or cupboards, but she'd learned to make do. Sometimes she wished for something ten times its size so she could bake up a storm when moods like this struck, but there was scarcely enough room to turn around in, much less given into her love of cooking on a large scale. And since she'd signed a year-long lease for the efficiency apartment, and that wouldn't be up for a few more months, there wasn't anything to be done about it now.

  If she'd thought everything through, she could have gotten a bigger place. Her share of her father's life insurance had been more than generous, but she wasn't one to squander money. When she'd first come to Michigan, she hadn't known how long it would take to find a job, or even if she'd be able to find one, so she opted for cheap. And truthfully, she didn’t really need any more space than this, this being a twelve-by-fifteen living room/kitchen by day, and a twelve-by-fifteen bedroom/kitchen by night, thanks to the fold out sofa she’d just vacated.

  Before leaving for the worksite this morning, she’d put a boneless chicken breast in the refrigerator to thaw, and she pulled that out now, tossing the plastic bag on the counter and flattening it as best she could with a wooden rolling pin. When she was finished, it went into a small covered pan with a little coconut oil, garlic, salt, and parmesan cheese.

  Turning the burner to low, Hannah walked to the dresser that sat between the two windows facing the street, pulled out a pair of soft flannel lounge pants and a long sleeved tee shirt, and carried them to her tiny bathroom. She had enough time for a quick shower before supper, and she intended to get it done so she could relax afterward.

  The plan was to eat, get the bed set up, and read until she fell asleep, but she should have known better than to count on being able to carry it out. She’d just turned the chicken, and was heading back to the bathroom to remove the towel wrapped around her head when her cell phone rang.

  Rolling her eyes, she did an about face and dug it out of her purse. Most likely her mother, the last person she wanted to talk to right now, but if Hannah didn’t answer, the woman would worry herself sick. Except it wasn’t her mother. The caller I.D. showed a California number, and her heart sped up.

  "Mary!" she exclaimed, cradling the phone against her ear.

  "Hey, kid." Never one to bother with social niceties, the simple greeting still warmed her heart as no other could.
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br />   "I can’t believe it’s you," she said, brushing at the tears that filled her eyes as soon as she heard her sister’s voice. Of all the times she could have chosen to call, today was perfect timing. Maybe she could pull her out of the doldrums.

  "The one and only. How’re you doing, Hannah Banana?" Hannah smiled at the silly childhood nickname.

  "I miss you."

  "No mushy stuff, okay?" came the brusque response. Mary never liked what she considered sentimental emotions, and hadn’t the entire time they’d been growing up. She was just a gruff, taking care of business kind of girl. But Hannah had never doubted that she loved her, not after her sister had taken up with the wrong crowd in high school, and not after she'd moved hundreds of miles away after she dropped out of school a few months before graduation.

  "Okay, no mushy stuff. How have you been?"

  "I asked first."

  "I’m fine. Settling in well."

  "Did you meet him yet?"

  "Yes. I’ve seen him quite a few times now. I’ve even talked to him a couple of times." She heard a noise and could almost picture Mary clicking her tongue in disgust.

  "Did you tell him?"

  "No."

  "Are you going to?"

  "I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet."

  "So what did you do? Just walk up to him and introduce yourself?"

  "No. Of course not. He’s friends with Jon."

  "Jon?" Oops. She’d forgotten they hadn’t talked since her move.

  "He’s one of my bosses."

  "Just a boss?" Mary asked, intuitively.

  "Just a boss. Kind of an acquaintance, I guess."

  "You’re being really non-specific here."

  "Ha! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. But to ease your mind, I’ve done a couple of things with the wives of his other friends. They’re trying to help me settle in here. They’re all nice."