Yearn For Me: A Hockey Romance (The Banks Sisters Book 2) Read online

  Yearn For Me

  The Banks Sisters Book Two

  Aja Cole

  Contents

  About

  Thank You!

  1. Keyra

  2. Dane

  3. Keyra

  4. Dane

  5. Keyra

  6. Dane

  7. Keyra

  8. Dane

  9. Keyra

  10. Dane

  11. Keyra

  12. Dane

  13. Keyra

  14. Dane

  15. Keyra

  16. Dane

  17. Dane

  18. Keyra

  19. Keyra

  20. Dane

  21. Keyra

  22. Dane

  23. Keyra

  24. Dane

  25. Keyra

  26. Dane

  27. Keyra

  28. Dane

  29. Keyra

  30. Dane

  31. Keyra

  32. Dane

  33. Keyra

  COMING SOON

  Also by Aja Cole

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  About the Author

  KEYRA

  It’s my job to imagine everything that could happen and go wrong.

  Except, apparently…when it comes to my personal life and Dane Thoreau.

  I was shot for god-sakes, and still…he’s the only thing that sends me running.

  Dane

  I’m used to thinking one thing about women: Don’t trust them.

  Until I met Keyra Banks.

  The fierce, amazing woman has been getting under my skin for months, and I’m only a man.

  Now, with more women in my life than I’m ready for…the question is: Can I be the man that she deserves?

  And the really important thing for me to consider…Do I even want to be?

  Join the oldest Banks sister on this journey to see if love really looks good on everyone.

  Yearn For Me: A Hockey Romance

  Aja Cole

  Copyright © 2017 by Aja Cole.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  First Edition October 2017

  Created with Vellum

  To all of my family and friends that have supported me every time I’ve said, “I’m writing a book.”

  I couldn’t have done it without your love and constant encouragement.

  To my awesome reader’s group and everyone who reads my books and comes back for more…you fucking rock.

  To my author friends and the people who let me vent and freak out and constantly inspire me to keep going…

  Thank you.

  I love you all.

  Thank You!

  I just wanted to say a quick thank you for giving my writing a chance, and I hope it gives you everything you’re looking for!

  Yearn For Me is the second story in The Banks Sisters series [Book One Here] It is a 40,000 word story with a HFN, explicit sexual situations, and no cliffhangers.

  I like my love scenes steamy and my sweet scenes sappy.

  Now, please enjoy and I hope you love my characters as much as I do!

  ~ Aja Cole

  1

  Keyra

  “You’re fired.”

  I stand in front of the mayor’s desk, clutching the folder I wanted to discuss with him in my arms.

  “Excuse me?”

  Marcus Cornelius Banks Jr. is not a man to repeat himself, and I know this.

  But surely, I haven’t heard him correctly.

  “Dad, you can’t be serious.” Usually, I don’t bring our relationship into the office, but I think it might be warranted this time.

  “You heard me. You’re fired. Effective immediately.” He slides his glasses back on and looks down at the papers he was going over when I came in, dismissing me.

  “I…I don’t understand. Why? What do you mean?”

  He sighs like he wasn’t expecting me to ask any questions.

  Uh, HELLO! This is me we’re talking about. It’s my actual freaking job to understand situations completely.

  I can’t decide what I’m more offended about right now.

  The fact that he thinks he’s firing me or the fact that he thought I was going to just go quietly.

  “Keyra, what have you done since you got shot?” Just him mentioning it makes me rub my fingers on my side out of habit.

  “Uh…work? We still had the campaign to finish.” I’m confused. Is that a bad thing? We got him into office with great numbers and a large popularity vote.

  I’d like to think I was an important part of that.

  “Exactly. You could’ve died, and the first thing you did was go back to exactly what you’ve been doing most of your adult life.” My dad’s face is grim, with maybe a little trace of…regret? Guilt?

  I haven’t the slightest idea why he’d feel either of those things.

  “The bullet missed everything vital. I’m fine, why does it matter? I love my job.”

  I do. I can’t imagine doing anything else.

  I’ve never done anything else.

  “It’s all you’ve ever done. You need to explore, do something for yourself. You’re always worried about something. This time, I’m giving you no choice but to worry about yourself.” He nods his head one final time like he’s not going to say anything else about it, and I feel panic welling up inside me.

  “Daddy, let—.” He cuts me off.

  “Keyra Danielle Banks, I’m not going to say it again.” He stands, putting his palms squarely on his desk and leaning over it just slightly.

  My dad is already a large man. I really don’t need the full force of his stare and stern voice.

  “Get. Out. It won’t kill you to take a few months off. The office will still be standing when you get back.”

  “So this isn’t a permanent fire? If I go do something for a few weeks, I can come back?” Thank god, a little hope.

  “No.” He deadpans, coming around the desk. He grabs the edge of the file I’m holding and tugs, and I hold onto it for a second before he yanks it and I don’t have any choice but to let it go.

  Dammit.

  “Keyra, do you know what it was like for me to watch them load you into that ambulance, not knowing what the hell was going on?” He takes my hands in his and I look at them, avoiding his gaze.

  Not for long though, because he tips up my chin and I hate seeing the mistiness in his.

  “You’ve given so much of yourself for this family. I need you to take some time for you. Please. Don’t make me beg you.” He makes like he’s going to get down on one knee or something and I grip his hands tightly. There’s no way I want him doing that. “Promise me you’ll do things you’ve always wanted to. Explore. Live.”

  “I mean…I’ll try?” I hedge, shifting on my feet and avoiding his gaze again. If he gets too emotional, I’ll get too emotional.

  “You’re not allowed to work for me for at least six months, so you better do more than try.” He kisses me on the forehead and turns me around, nudging me towards the door.

&
nbsp; SIX MONTHS!?

  Holy hell in a hand-basket, I’m not going to survive.

  Maybe he was just giving a strong suggestion and he’ll forget about it once he realizes how crazy it is.

  “Miss Banks?” I swing my gaze towards the door, where an officer is standing.

  “Yes?” I stand when my dad appears behind him, flanked by another officer who’s holding a box.

  “Since you, my dear daughter, can’t seem to follow simple directions, I thought I would personally see to it that this gets done.” He sits the empty box on my desk and starts grabbing up my things!

  “Hey!” I snatch away my glass paperweight before he can pick it up, clutching the cupcake to my chest.

  “Hand it over. It’s going in the box.” He demands, holding out a palm.

  I straighten my back and subtly step back into my heels, even though from the minute I stood up, I stood on the balls of my feet so it would look like I was already wearing them.

  I don’t like being caught off-guard.

  “You’re being absurd. This is very unprofessional.”

  “What’s unprofessional is you ignoring me directly telling you to go home.” He grumbles, turning and moving to other areas of my office, grabbing the small knickknacks I’ve placed around.

  I like a little character, but mostly simplicity. Too many things mean not enough organization.

  I watch silently as he just puts the little bit of my work life into a box. He picks it up and hands it to one of the officers, going to the drawer where I keep my purse and getting that too.

  Walking to me, he holds out his hand again.

  “Give me your badges, you’re not allowed back without an appointment. Better yet, just drop by the house.” I numbly hand them over, and he presses another firm kiss to my cheek then motions me ahead of him.

  Okay.

  So much for him not being serious.

  I lift my chin and drop my cupcake paper-weight into my purse gently, and take it from the officer.

  Refusing to look my dad in the eyes again and refusing to look at anyone as I pass them, escorted by police officers, I end my journey outside of the double doors of City Hall.

  All alone.

  Just me and my box.

  I’m grateful that I make it to my car before the first tear falls.

  2

  Dane

  I feel wet strokes against my face, and I really hope it’s not the chick from last night.

  I know I told her I don’t do sleepovers.

  I peek open an eye and see Nova’s big brown eyes peering at me while she licks my face like I’m made of white chocolate.

  “What the fuck, Nova?” I groan. She’s standing on the back of the naked woman still in my goddamned bed, and peers at me innocently as I sit up and lean against my headboard. My little fur-ball barks low and jumps into my lap, making me grateful that I put nail caps on her claws.

  I sleep naked. Claws plus my balls is a recipe for disaster.

  I scoop the Maltipoo up, stroking her light brown fur and nuzzling her against my face. “You think this girl should go home too, don’t you, baby? Let’s see about waking her up, hm?”

  Nova wiggles like she wants out of my hold, and I let her slip away. She promptly starts licking at random woman’s face.

  I can’t remember her name, or else I’d use it.

  “Dane!” She giggles, keeping her eyes closed as she stretches and turns on her side, supposedly to bare her body to me so I can continue licking other parts.

  I raise a brow and cross my arms.

  “That’s not me.” I slide out of bed and go to the bathroom. I’m putting the toilet seat back down while she’s shrieking, and when I hear a thud, I assume she fell out of bed because of her antics.

  If she’s this dramatic over Nova, who barely weighs all of 6 pounds, she’s probably a drama queen about a lot of shit.

  “What is that…that thing!?” She shrieks, and I start to wonder if her voice was that high when we met the night before or not.

  “A puppy?” I pull on boxers and sweatpants, annoyed. Anyone who doesn’t fall in love with Nova is a shit person in my book. And she called my fur ball a thing. How fucking offensive.

  “I don’t like dogs. You can’t have a dog if I’m going to be staying over.”

  What kind of sub-par human doesn’t like dogs? Shit, I need to start asking screening questions.

  She puts her hands on her hips and stares at me like she’s expecting me to throw Nova out of the window or something.

  “What’s your name again?”

  I don’t have time for her shit. Need to be at the rink at 10.

  She stomps her feet and one of those awful shrieks leaves her mouth again and I’m regretting that those lips were anywhere on my body.

  “Can you be outraged somewhere else? I have shit to do.” I try not to be one of those jerks that sleeps with women and then is rude or callous, but mincing words isn’t exactly my style either.

  She insulted my baby girl. The woman doesn’t deserve consideration.

  She clearly isn’t good at listening, because she was still in my home when we’d discussed her leaving when we finished last night.

  I watch her snatch up her clothes and shoes, stalking out of my room as Nova wags her tail and barks from my bed.

  “I know fur-ball, I’m glad to see her go too.” I see thin black panties peeking out from under the bed, and I scoop them up and toss them in the trash.

  No need for souvenirs.

  I shower quickly, glancing in the mirror at my beard with a shrug. Eh. Not time to shave it off yet.

  I’m shrugging on a t-shirt when my phone lights up, and I see a picture of Keyra on the display.

  Weird, pretty sure she has meetings this morning. They’re still doing staffing interviews and taking stock of current employees for her dad.

  “Babycakes?” I carry my phone to the kitchen, wincing when I step on one of Nova’s chew toys. She runs around my ankles and picks it up after I cuss, trotting over to hop on her cushion and settling down.

  She’s fucking perfect.

  I turn up the volume on my phone and realize I only hear sobbing. It makes me put the spinach down I was about to pop into the blender.

  What the hell?

  “I…can’t…stop…baking.” Keyra cries, and I take her off the speaker, putting the phone to my ear.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You…sound…so…mean.” She hiccups, laughter coming between her tears and I’m alarmed.

  This isn’t normal Keyra at all.

  “What do you mean you can’t stop baking? Why aren’t you at work?” Is that panic in my voice?

  I mean, this is the woman that was giving orders the minute they released her from the hospital. I would drop in after a game sometimes and she’d be working, on the phone, just never stopping. I kept falling asleep on her couch, and she never blinked a tired eye.

  “My dad fired me. I’m banned from work for the next six months.” She sniffs. “Snickerdoodles are your favorite right? I made 3 batches, but I’m making a chocolate cake too. And there are chocolate chip cookies.”

  Good lord.

  “I’m going to come over before I go to the rink okay?”

  “Okay.” Her voice hitches and I hang up the phone, shaking my head.

  Fired?

  3

  Keyra

  Where is the damned dark chocolate? I could probably see into my cabinets better if my vision wasn’t so blurry.

  But the tears won’t stop. Every-time I think I’m done, they just…start again.

  I stand on the step stool in my kitchen and look in the top cabinet for more baking trays. I wipe my nose with my ratty sleeve and look at my kitchen.

  I chose this condo for the open layout and the big island counter, but I’m running out of space. I have 4 cooling racks set up with cookies on them and 2 more empty ones because baking calms my nerves.

  Or so I thoug
ht.

  “Keyra…” I turn on the stool and see Dane, hands propped on his hips and the most confused expression on his face. He looks at all the baked goods and finally meets my eyes, his perfectly formed mouth opening a little. “Are you trying to feed an army?”

  He has a key to my place because he’d check in on me after I was released.

  I feel my eyes well up again and his jaw actually drops this time, before he comes to me and plucks me off the stool.

  I immediately bury my face in his chest and his arms come around me. I feel him rest his chin on top of my head and that just makes me cry even harder.

  “I…don’t…know…what…to…dooooo.” I hate myself for breaking down like this, but I feel so lost. Working with my dad has been my life. I grew up with it, I learned it and studied it…I can’t do anything else.

  I didn’t expect to have to do anything else. Ever. I know my dad said I could come back in six months but…what if he realizes he doesn’t need me?

  What will I do then?

  Once I’ve soaked his shirt sufficiently, I stop crying but I keep my forehead on his chest. He lets me stand there silently and I’m grateful.