Page 8 of Hooking the Captain
“Where do you call home?”
I swallowed. “Boston.”
“Ah. What brings you here?”
“Visiting family.”
“Me too.” He took a drink of his beer.
He gave no sign he knew who I was. Maybe he didn’t follow hockey and I for damn sure wasn’t going to bring it up. Since he didn’t seem to recognize me, I stuck out my hand. “Coop.”
He grasped it. “Ford.”
“Nice to meet you, Ford,” I said. “So, how’s your visit been treating you so far?”
He took a moment to contemplate the question. “It’s been okay. Hartford’s a cool town, and the people are friendly.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s a pretty tight-knit community around here. Everyone knows each other.”
He chuckled. “I’ve noticed that, and feel a bit like an outsider, but people have been welcoming.”
I took another sip of my beer, feeling a little more at ease with him. “Well, how about we play a game of pool? It’s what I always do when I come here.”
His eyes lit up with interest. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t played in a while, though, so you might have to go easy on me.”
I laughed. “No worries. It’s all in good fun.” I signaled to Harvey, and he sauntered over. “Hey, can we get a rack of balls?”
“Sure thing, Coop.” He reached under the bar top and pulled out the tray. “Enjoy your game, fellas, and I’ll bring over two fresh beers.”
“Thanks,” I replied and grabbed the tray of balls, then led the way to the pool table. We both picked out pool cues and used the blue chalk on the tips. Once our sticks were ready, I racked the balls and set them in position over the dot on the green felt.
“You any good?” Ford asked.
“Well, I’ve played a bit, but I’m no expert. Want to break?”
“Nah.” He waved me off. “Your idea, so you can do the honors.”
I leaned forward and lined up the cue ball, taking a moment to try to focus, although I couldn’t help but be aware of Ford’s presence next to me. With a smooth motion, I pulled my stick back and then sent the cue ball crashing into the racked balls. They scattered across the table, and a striped ball found its way into a side pocket.
Ford nodded with a grin. “Not bad.”
I returned his smile, feeling even more comfortable. “Maybe I’m not as rusty as I thought.”
“Guess not.” He snorted.
I missed my next shot, and then it was his turn. He leaned over the pool table, and I found myself admiring the view as his jeans hugged his ass. I averted my gaze and took a sip of a fresh beer Harvey had brought us, but then turned back to Ford and watched as he pulled his stick back and took his shot. He sank the four into the side pocket.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re a pool shark?” I chuckled.
Ford laughed. “I used to play a lot in college, but it’s been a few months.”
I quickly did the math and wondered if that meant he was twenty-two. He was five years younger than me, if that were the case.
“A few months? Did you just graduate?”
He nodded and lined up another shot. “I did.”
“Nice. What college—” My question was cut off when the entire bar erupted in cheers. I glanced at the TV in the corner and saw that someone on the Red Sox had hit a grand slam.
