by Leah Vale
She hesitated on the last step. "Maybe I should drive my own car and meet you there."
He shook his head. "Come with me." When she continued to balk, he added, "It’s not like driving you back home is out of my way, Sara." He nodded toward The Big House.
Maybe he’d be like her father and open up while driving, using the excuse of keeping his attention on the road to avoid making eye contact. She could hope, at least.
She left the stairs and rounded the front of the truck. The obviously souped-up engine smelled of hot oil and exhaust. The black hood radiated its own heat, almost as much as Cooper did when she slipped by him to climb into the vehicle.
Something seethed inside him. If she could find the key to turning off whatever drove Cooper, then they could all settle back into a peaceful, uneventful life.
Cooper shut her door, quickly skirted the hood and climbed in. The moment he closed his door and enveloped her in his scent, she accepted that her life would never settle into anything resembling normal ever again as long as he was around. She’d simply have to learn to deal with the abnormal.
She waited patiently as he drove them toward town, but an introduction to whatever was on his mind didn’t come. Despite the powerful air conditioner blowing loudly in the cab, a line sheen of perspiration formed on her lower back where it pressed against the tan leather seat. What if he had sabotaged something in the company and she’d missed it? She glanced at his devastatingly handsome profile. The set of his square jaw and arousing mouth revealed nothing but determination.
By the time they reached the first stoplight on Main Street
, which regulated the traffic from the very first McCoy store on one side and the Bank of Missouri on the other. she couldn’t take the silence anymore. "What do you need to show me. Cooper?"
He looked at her, his eyes startlingly blue in the last light of the day but wholly unreadable, and held her gaze for a long moment before he finally said. "Something you apparently need to see."
She twisted toward him. "What. Cooper? What have you done?" She hadn’t realized how terrified she was until she heard the tremor in her voice.
He let out a harsh laugh and turned his attention back to the light. which had changed. "Something damn stupid." He gunned the engine, launching them through the intersection.
Her adrenaline surged. too. "Which is?"
His grip visibly tightened on the steering wheel. "I started caring about what you think. that’s what."
Sara blinked, stunned by his admission, not to mention the strength of its effect on her. She tried to control the hope and pleasure tingling in her, because he clearly wasn’t happy about the way he felt.
She faced forward again. "I’m sorry it pains you so."
He chuckled and shook his head. "Woman, you have no idea."
Before she could think of something to say to that, he hit his turn signal. But they weren’t even out of town yet, let alone at the entrance to the McCoy Enterprises headquarters.
"Where--" She stopped when he made a left turn and she saw where he was going. The parking lot of The Office. The bar Cooper had been arrested in for brawling.
"This office? You wanted to take me here?"
"That’s what I said, didn’t I?"
"Knowing full well I’d assume you meant what I consider the office," she accused.
He shrugged and steered the truck into one of the few remaining parking spots. She’d vaguely noted on her daily drives past the low-slung, roughly finished building that the lot was this full on most evenings. The place was popular despite its looks.
"And what you have to show me is here?" Her voice rose tellingly.
"Yep." He pushed the gearshift into Park and turned off the engine.
"Please tell me it’s not something carved into the wood someplace."
He barked a laugh and got out.
Sara was still gathering her purse and her composure when her door opened.
Cooper offered her his hand. "Come on. I also owe you dinner."
She glanced at the windowless building before taking his hand. "They serve food?" Thankfully, her voice didn’t betray the jolt of electricity the contact with his strong hand sent through her.
His grip was sure but gentle as he helped her climb out of his pickup.
"Best hamburgers around. I thought you said you grew up in Dependable?"
She’d expected him to step back after helping her out of the vehicle. but he didn’t move. If anything, he edged closer. She ended up toe-to-toe with him, and the heat, the heady spicy scent and the good old-fashioned sexual energy coming off him sent her body into fits. lf he realized it or not, he didn’t let on. Though he still had a hold of her hand.
Her mouth dry, she tilted her chin up and met his gaze, praying her pounding pulse didn’t show in her throat. "l did grow up in Dependable. Or at least, on the outskirts."
"Ah. That’s right, you would have gotten to go to Dependable Christian."
Sara tried not to feel guilty about being able to attend the private school practically tailor-made for the children of McCoy Enterprises employees. "What makes you so certain?"
"Because I sure as hell would have noticed you at Dependable High."
His appreciative look made her cheeks warm. "Oh. Well, yes, I did attend Dependable Christian. But I’ve just never had occasion to come here."
"Meaning you never hung out with the type who’d come here."
She mimicked his shrug.
"Well, now you do," he said, and pulled her out of the way so he could shut the truck’s passenger door.
She laughed, a little too high and a little too loud, and tried to cover it by adding, "Apparently, I do."
The comprehension in his smile was disquieting. As was the thought of going into a place where people had been arrested for fighting. But who better to go with than a man like Cooper? As physically imposing and honorable as he was, she nevertheless sent up a quick prayer that there wouldn’t be dinner and a show.
He winked at her and, still holding her hand, led her into the bar. The first thing to hit her was the smell.
It was heavenly.
Grilled hamburger and barbecue sauce, with a side of deep-fried everything. Though that was certainly not her usual fare, her stomach growled loudly and her mouth watered. Her expectations of a seedy, busted-up dive were further shattered when her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside.
The place was as roughly finished on the inside as out, with exposed timber posts and beams and stain-darkened planking on the walls and floor, but it was clean and actually decorated with a sports theme. Trophies of all sizes filled shelves high on all the walls, and beneath them were framed photos of the teams who, assumingly, had won them.
She followed Cooper past a long bar with high stools--every one of them occupied, but mostly by people eating, not just drinking--to one of the red vinyl-upholstered booths lining the wall opposite the door. A massive big-screen TV playing a baseball game dominated the wall opposite the bar and the cluster of scarred, round wooden tables.
The baseball fans crowding the tables didn’t look particularly disreputable. Nor did they look like the lunch crowd at the deli of McCoy Enterprises. The surprisingly equal mix of men and women were dressed mostly in some form of denim. On the tables, the oval baskets lined with red-and-white-checked paper and heaping with food explained the wonderful way the place smelled and the lack of parking spots outside.
Off to the side of the TV, a multicolored jukebox was angled into a corner, with a clear patch of floor in front of it, presumably for those smart enough to toss in a little dancing with their date during commercial breaks.
As she and Cooper slid into the booth, opposite each other, he commented, "So you like it."
Sara realized she was smiling. "Yeah. I do. I have to admit, it doesn’t exactly look like a place where people would fight."
He laughed incredulously. "When was the last time you were at a major sporting event, sister? l’m afraid
nowadays sports bars during any play-offs or rival matches between equally popular teams are as dangerous as biker bars."
"And you’ve been to a biker bar?"
His grin was so very bad. "A few."
Then a thought occurred to her and she glanced over at the TV. "That game isn’t a play-off or rival match, is it?"
He watched the game for just a second. "No. I promise. Just plain old baseball tonight."
A little embarrassed and self-conscious about her paranoia, she tried to laugh her concern off. "Well, if the food tastes as good as it smells, I’ll love this place."
"Trust me, you’ll love it."
Sara’s smile faltered at his words. Would she ever be able to trust him?
Once again. her thoughts must have shown, because his expression sobered. "Let’s order first." He pulled a laminated menu from between the ketchup and mustard bottles and handed it to her. "I usually get the Damn Big Burger. It’s the house specialty."
"Not to mention intimidating-sounding. I’m not sure I have room for something with that kind of name."
"I’d be worried if you did. They’ll wrap up and send home what you can’t finish. We’ll fill your fridge yet."
Yearning flared again. Wanting to appear as open as possible to Cooper tonight so he’d trust her enough to listen to her, she smiled and nodded. "Then Damn Big Burger it is."
Cooper signaled to the woman waiting tables. She had on tight jeans and an even tighter red T-shirt with the words The Office in white across her chest, which was ample enough that no letters disappeared beneath her arms. A pretty blonde with candy-apple-red lips and matching nails, she lit up at the sight of him.
"Coop! Darlin’, where have you been? I was beginning to think the sheriff hung on to you for something you might have had outstanding."
He chuckled. "No, not at all, Vic." He cast a meaningful look at Sara that wasn’t quite sexual but definitely intense. "I’ve just been otherwise engaged."
The woman made a put-out sound but gave Sara what she hoped was a good-natured poke on the shoulder with her knuckle. "Lucky girl."
Sara blushed, wishing it were true.
Cooper exchanged innocent small talk with "Vic," which shouldn’t have started the wiggle of jealousy in Sara’s belly but did, anyway. because clearly they’d known each other for some time. Was she one of the women he kept it casual and just for fun with?
Finally, he ordered two of the specialty burgers and light beers.
Sara forcefully curbed her jealousy, mostly because she had no right to it, and focused on enjoying the evening. "Damn Big Burger and light beer." She laughed at the combination, moving the paper napkin and utensils the waitress had left in front of her. "Somehow, I don’t think the calories saved on the beer is going to matter that much."
Cooper rested his elbows on the varnished tabletop and crossed his forearms. "At least we can claim to be trying to stay healthy."
"Cooper, anyone with eyes can see that you do a little more than just order light beer."
"Oh, really?
"Yes. You’re in amazing shape. I mean, jeez, just look at you." She waved a hand at his broad shoulders, his defined biceps, which made her mouth water in a way no burger ever could.
He met her gaze. "I’d rather look at you. Your shape is pretty amazing, too, Ms. Barnes."
While he hadn’t used the velvety smooth and sensually devastating delivery he’d used on her previously, Sara nearly gasped. His honest-sounding, simple statement and open, guileless expression hit her hard. This was the man she could spend all her evenings with on the porch or in the neighborhood bar. The man she couldn’t seem to reach. Her throat tightened unbearably and her vision swam.
She quickly focused on the menu and joked, "You might change your mind after seeing me shove a Damn Big Burger in my mouth."
"I doubt it." He sounded amused.
Fearing she might reveal that she had more than just the McCoys’ interests fueling her involvement with him now, she kept on pretending to study the menu.
Finally, Cooper said, "I guess this is as good a time as any to show you what I brought you here to see."
Sara’s heart gave a lurch and she jerked her gaze up and met his. "What is it. Cooper?" The dread spreading through her was clear in her voice.
He nodded toward the framed sports-teams’ photos on the wall. "Fair is fair. You showed me yours--now I’m showing you mine."
Sara frowned, but before she could voice her confusion, he added. "I was usually in the back because of my height, and first on the left because my last name starts with an A."
Understanding dawning. she looked more closely at the photo nearest her, at the gangly boy in a red-and-white baseball uniform standing in the back row, first on the left. This time she did gasp. There was no mistaking the "bring it on" expression. "That’s you! At what--about fourteen?"
He pushed the tines of his fork down with an index finger, making the handle rise, then clank back down once he’d released the pressure. "In that one, eleven, I was always big for my age."
Sara quickly scanned the rest of the eight-by-ten photos, climbing up on her knees to better see them. Cooper in baseball and football uniforms of white on red, or red on white. All the teams sponsored by The Office.
"That’s what l had throughout my life." His softly spoken words drew her attention. "Those were the only people who stood by me."
Sara followed his gaze back to the photos, sadly noting that usually the men standing with the boys were different from year to year, team to team. The only constant seemed to be the bar’s sponsorship.
A small engraved plaque hanging among the team pictures caught her eye. It was from the Dependable, Missouri, Youth Authority, thanking the owners of The Office for their generous support of the area’s troubled boys.
Sara’s chest throbbed with emotion. She’d thrown her past in his face to explain her motives. Now he was explaining his in the same fashion. Was he beginning to trust her, or was he just getting back at her?
She sank onto the bench seat and unfolded her legs from beneath her. "Joseph would have never let you grow up like that had he known."
"Why are you so convinced he didn’t know, Sara?"
"Because of how he treated me, Cooper."
He leaned forward. "You weren’t a baby scandal, though, were you?"
Sara hurt for him. How had the adults in his life, the people supposed to support and cherish him, dared to abandon him emotionally?
He saved her from having to come up with a response by saying, "At least I liked sports."
She half laughed, half sobbed. "Cooper--"
"Look--" he pushed a hand through his hair, leaving furrows that seemed to match the depth of his frustration "I didn’t show you these to get sympathy and I sure as hell don’t need your pity."
"I don’t pity you, Cooper. I empathize your pain."
"How New Age of you."
She ignored his sarcasm because she wanted to help him, and the only way to do that was to stop him from trying to ruin the McCoys.
Vic came with their food--damn, the burgers were big--so Sara held her argument.
Other than superficial comments about the excellent quality of the burgers and Sara’s need to smush hers to get it into her mouth, they ate in silence. She only made it through a third of her burger in the time it took Cooper to down his, along with his fries, as well as some of hers. Apparently, their reason for being there hadn’t affected his appetite, as it had hers.
She pushed the basket holding the remainder of her burger and fries toward him and leaped back into the fray. "You know, Cooper, your past doesn’t make what you’re trying to do now okay. None of this--" she waved a hand at the pictures "--was the fault of the people you’d be hurting if you sabotaged the company."
He paused in the act of reaching for another of her French fries and met her gaze. "People like you." His tone and expression were solemn and--heaven help her--accepting?
Her throat was
too tight to let her do more than whisper. "Yes. People like me."
"l didn’t intend to change your mind by showing you this, Sara." He moved to the edge of his side of the booth and pushed himself to his feet. "I only wanted you to understand. So you wouldn’t be hurt as much."
She looked up at him and gave a humorless laugh. "You’re softening the blow of your betrayal?"
He widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest--the same pose he’d struck in most of the pictures--but something close to regret flickered in his eyes. "I guess so."
Could he have meant it when he’d said he cared about her feelings? "Why?"
