Willow liked her instantly and Cooper’s dad, in track pants and sneakers, had his arm resting across the back of his wife’s chair, a gesture that seemed so natural and affectionate that she warmed to him, too. She’d always been a sucker for romance.
Before that thought could get her down, she launched into her usual spiel about how she liked to work with customers and her mission of making them satisfied with her process as well as with the final result. Then she took the cap off her pen and asked the pair to prioritize the changes to their vacation home.
The ensuing discussion was everything she could have hoped for. They had reasonable ideas of costs and what could and couldn’t be done to improve their property. A complete kitchen update and more minor changes to the bathrooms she noted on her pad. Then they hashed out the pros and cons of removing a wall to open up the living space.
At a break in the conversation, Willow sat back and beamed at them. “Not every couple I meet with agree on so many points.”
Carol nodded sagely. “I watch those design shows,” she said. “The wife always prioritizes a garden tub or the husband wants to save fifty dollars a month over having enough bedrooms for the kids. It’s eye-popping.”
Willow laughed. “From what I understand, that’s mostly contrived drama.”
“As if family life needs more of that,” Randy said, frowning.
Then his wife nodded over Willow’s shoulder. “Speaking of family, we asked our kids to join us to chime in with their own thoughts.”
She turned, and saw Cooper pushing through the entry door. The hollow inside her filled with a swelling warmth as his gaze landed on her face. Her hand tightened on her pen as he approached the table, greeted his parents, then took the chair beside hers.
His eyes narrowed as he seemed to study her face. “Babe,” he said, his voice soft, his expression concerned. “What’s up?”
Pretending she hadn’t heard the endearment or understood the personal nature of the question, she slid the sketch of the new kitchen design in his direction. “Your parents have some great ideas for the lake house.”
Before he could reply, Sophie arrived and what resulted was a productive exchange of ideas that brought up some additional issues and new design dilemmas. Could the baths be converted to walk-in showers? A breezeway between the garage and the house would be a godsend in inclement weather. Sophie desperately wanted more pantry space.
When she brought up the removal of the paneling in the room her father used as a study—an apparent rare bone of contention—Willow sat back to let parents and daughter hash it out.
Under the cover of their lively discussion, Cooper turned to Willow again. He looked as comfortable in his skin as always, with a scruff of whiskers on his jawline and a much-washed T-shirt stretched across his chest. He scooted his chair closer to hers. “Something’s the matter.”
She shrugged.
“Hey, I got the impression we’d decided to be friends.”
A spurt of irritation kindled. “The other day, you left Rachel’s without saying goodbye.” Until now, she hadn’t realized how much that rankled.
He grimaced. “That was rude of me. I’m sorry. You looked like you were having so much fun with Randa and Ollie and I had a sudden… Well, I suddenly remembered something I should be doing.”
The explanation didn’t ring completely true. Willow replayed the moments before he’d abruptly left. He’d been standing near her foster mom, seemingly in idle conversation, but—
“Did Rachel say something to you?” Willow wondered what exactly that might be.
With a forefinger, he caught a strand of hair that had worked free of her low ponytail and pushed it away from her cheek…without actually touching her skin. But she felt it there all the same, her flesh prickling beneath the ghostly touch, sending goose bumps down her neck and causing her nipples to tighten.
“She’s very protective of you, I think,” he said.
Now it was Willow’s turn to grimace. “I think she still sees me as that skinny twelve-year-old who was dropped off on her doorstep in the middle of the night.”
His pose remained relaxed, but his expression turned more alert. “How did that come to be?” he asked.
“Rachel was—is— a social worker by profession who applied for foster mother status. She first fostered two kids who were about to age out of the system.”
“I wasn’t asking about Rachel. I was asking about you. How come you needed to go somewhere in the middle of the night?”
She tried a little laugh. “Oh, I suppose I needed someone from about the day I was born. No bio dad in sight and my mom had a problem—well, several of them. Alcohol, men, money. Usually all three at the same time.”
“But that particular night,” Cooper insisted softly.
Her hand lifted, intending to wave the interrogation away, but then he caught it. The clasp of his warm fingers stopped her heart and she stared at where they were joined. “My mom had disappeared,” she admitted. “Her boyfriend was having a big party at our apartment and…he locked me out.”
She heard Cooper’s swift intake of breath and she glanced up at him. “It was safer to be outside than in.” His hold tightened and she licked her lips. “But the cops were called because of the noise and they found me in the building’s courtyard without a coat or shoes.”
“Jesus,” he muttered.
“So off to Rachel’s I went…it was supposed to be temporary, but my mother never fulfilled the court-ordered tasks to regain custody.”
The sudden concern on Cooper’s face made her feel both embarrassed and ashamed. “Don’t look like that,” she protested. “It turned out okay.”
“No.” He shifted, so that he half-bent, his elbows on his knees, her hand still held between both of his. “Nothing’s okay about it.”
“Cooper—”
“I hate the idea of you feeling so alone,” he said, bringing her hand to his mouth so she felt his warm breath against her knuckles. “Then, now, ever.”
Her throat tightened. She remembered the chill of that night, the fear running through her as she sat in the police cruiser, the absolute terror over what might come next.
The sense of being so, so alone.
Closing his eyes, Cooper breathed deep, then kissed her hand. “I’ll always be here for you,” he said like a vow, his gaze lifting to meet hers. “Friends forever, okay?”
For an instant, his charming grin flashed. “And everybody will tell you I’m just as loyal as that canine Cooper you once dreamed of.”
She could only stare at him.
His hand gave hers another squeeze. “Forever.”
Forever. The word echoed in her head again. Forever.
Her breath caught in her lungs. She wanted to express something fitting—I’ll be there for you or you can always count on me too—but she couldn’t force out a single syllable. Breaking eye contact, she glanced around, belatedly conscious of their surroundings. His family…whew.
The other Daggetts had left the table and moved off—without, she hoped, bearing witness to the last few minutes which felt so…personal. Private.
Now Sophie and her parents were standing on the other side of the café, in apparent happy conversation with the owner of the place, Harry. Willow slipped her hand from Cooper’s hold, eager to wrap up their interlude with some pertinent remark. “A person can always use a friend,” she murmured. Dumb, she thought, flushing.
He didn’t seem to find her response lacking, however. Smiling again, he sat back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “Good.”
Yes. All was good. It didn’t matter that she’d shared about that long-ago night. That the telling had left her feeling rubbed a little raw and more than a bit jumpy.
The bells on the door jingled, causing her to start. She glanced over. Oh, no. Brad stepped in, his buddy Ben at his heels. By instinct, her body slid low in her seat and she held her breath, wishing she could melt into the chair.
And he didn
’t seem to see or sense her. Instead, he strolled toward the order counter without an obvious care, tossing a remark to Ben over his shoulder. He wore business casual clothes and an easy smile on his clean-shaven face.
When she hadn’t been easy since the night he’d broken up with her.
Slowly, she straightened in her seat. From the purse she’d hung over the chair, she felt the call of the engagement ring. This morning she’d stuffed it into a zippered pocket, intending to return it to Brad via his mailbox as part of her move-on strategy.
But his seeming nonchalance galvanized her. Now, she thought. There was no time like the present for more moving on.
“Uh…” Cooper began, clearly sensing danger. “Willow…”
But she wasn’t going to be distracted. With jerky movements, she shoved her hand inside her purse and dug out the ring. It burned a circle on her palm. With a screech of chair legs, she popped out of her seat and stalked toward her ex-fiancé.
He stood by the creams and sugars, a cup of black coffee with room for additions in hand. When she tapped him on the shoulder, he turned.
“Willow.” His eyes widened and his gaze darted away, then back to her.
“You need to take this back,” she said, holding out the ring pinched between thumb and forefinger.
“I can’t,” he said, drawing back and staring at the circlet like it was poison.
“Take it back.” She steeled her spine. “And let me go.”
“Let you go?” He shook his head. “I love you.”
Frustration made her stomach knot in a way his I love you couldn’t loosen. “You have to take the ring.” Holding onto it made her want to hold onto a future that she’d always dreamed about but now couldn’t be.
“Damn it, Will,” he began heatedly, then paused before calming his voice. “Listen to me. That ring is yours. It’s always yours.”
“Brad.” What was wrong with him? “You’ve made it clear there’s no ‘always’ between us anymore.”
He ran a hand over the top of his hair, his expression turning anguished. “I meant for now. Maybe. I don’t know. Things could change. Okay?”
She stared, fury rising. Was he truly saying he wanted to leave the option open for them getting back together? After he’d broken up with her out of the blue, and without any good explanation? After he’d come traipsing in here today with his new friend Ben, smiling as if a four-year engagement was something as easy to brush off as a piece of lint? Not okay!
But she could tell from the stupid, half-hopeful look on his face that was exactly what he wanted—to leave her hanging.
The old Willow would have agreed to existing in such a limbo. Reacting as the lonely twelve-year-old she’d once been, she would have agreed to wait forever because the boy-next-door was one of the only dependable people in her life. She would have been afraid to lose him.
But hadn’t she grown up and become a self-assured adult?
Who had started her own company, begun to make new friends, and even engaged in spectacular sex?
She glanced over her shoulder at Cooper, who wasn’t even pretending not to watch.
Somehow that gave her the last burst of confidence she needed. She lifted the ring once more—and didn’t it make the most sense that Willow herself take this final action to prove she was ready to drown that old fantasy instead of clinging to it?—and let it drop into the dark depths of Brad’s cup of coffee.
As the ring plunged into the paper cup, Cooper half-rose, unable to help himself. She needed him, he thought, shoving back his chair. But before he took two steps, her ex had left the building and Willow herself was returning to the table. He let out his breath, reminding himself it wasn’t his place to get involved. Or his way. But even so, he found himself trying to read her mood.
Her set expression gave nothing away, damn it.
But now he knew more about her life pre-Rachel. God. Thinking of her as a little kid, alone and in danger, had made him want to snatch her up and haul her close. Instead, he’d held her hand and claimed her as a forever friend.
Felt as lame as shit to say it, but what else did he have to offer her?
A relationship both friendly and yet still reasonably detached. That was going to have to be enough.
As she reached for her chair, Cooper’s father strode up to the table. “Are we ready to conclude our business?” he asked, his tone jovial.
He shot his dad a look, but the older man didn’t get the hint. “Maybe we should reschedule,” he suggested. “Mom and Sophie have disappeared into Harry’s kitchen and Willow is…”
Could he persuade her to take a walk on the beach? It would give him an excuse to hold her hand again, while still maintaining a distance that taking her back to bed wouldn’t—
“I’m what?” Willow demanded. “Willow is…what?”
“Uh…” He wrenched his mind away from the direction of sheets and skin. “Busy? Maybe you have another meeting?”
She checked her watch. “As a matter of fact I do need to leave soon, but I have a few more minutes.”
“And I’ve been allowed to keep the paneling,” his dad said, looking pleased. “But we need you to work up a budget and design for a pantry and that breezeway. Oh, and the conversion of tubs to showers.”
“Got it.” Willow made notes on a pad. Then her head lifted. “Hey, I just thought. You’ve asked Sophie and Cooper…do you need to run the ideas by your other son?”
“Hmm.” His father hesitated, frowning. “Beau doesn’t get much chance to visit the lake, but he might have an opinion.”
Cooper barely restrained rolling his eyes. Beau always had an opinion, and usually it perfectly reflected that of Randy Daggett. “He’ll want what you want, Dad.”
“You’re right.” The older man smiled. “He’s a good son.”
“You’re lucky in all your children,” Willow said, glancing at Cooper.
“But Beau… That boy never caused us a moment’s worry.”
His dad went on to recite some of his older brother’s many accomplishments. Cooper let the conversation flow around him without listening, having heard the accolades many times before. How was Willow processing that little scene with her ex? he wondered. She’d appeared on a rampage as she’d stomped over, but underneath that anger there had to still be hurt…and love?
His gut twisted, which was stupid, because whom she cared for…that wasn’t his concern. They were mere buddies, per her interest and his own inclination.
Then something tuned him into his father’s turn of conversation. “…I could introduce the two of you,” Randy was saying. “Beau isn’t seeing anyone at the moment, at least I don’t think so, because he’d share with his mother who’d share with me and—”
“Dad.” Cooper’s gut burned.
The older man glanced over. “What?”
“Willow doesn’t need a matchmaker, for God’s sake.” And the Golden Child wasn’t going to get his chance with her, not on Cooper’s watch.
“Oh.” Randy’s crestfallen expression seemed a bit overplayed, but who the hell knew what was going on in his old man’s head. “That’s right…Sophie said you’re engaged, Willow?”
“No,” she replied, light as whipped cream. “That’s over.”
“Ah.” His dad’s eyebrows rose. “So—”
“So stay out of it,” Cooper ground out, shooting daggers with his eyes. “She’s creative, courageous, and damn beautiful.”
Was that amusement gleaming in his father’s gaze? “Meaning?”
“Meaning she can manage her own life.” He slid a look at Willow, saw that a blush had crept up her face. Damn beautiful was right.
But fuck, for a woman who wanted forever, his brother was probably an ideal candidate. Now Cooper had thrown a boulder in the way of that. “I shouldn’t butt in,” he muttered. “Sorry.”
Not sorry, as his sister Sophie would say.
“Well, um…” Willow pushed back her chair. “I hate to thank you for the com
pliments and run, but thank you for the compliments and I need to run to my next meeting.”
“Sure. Right.” Cooper and his dad both got to their feet, and the trio exchanged polite goodbyes.
He could feel his father staring at him as he watched Willow make her way toward the door. “What now?” he asked, turning his head.
“You know—” The old man broke off as his attention shifted toward the café’s exit. “Hmm.”
Cooper looked back, and felt his entire body tighten. On the sidewalk outside stood Brad-the-ex. He’d taken hold of Willow’s arm and now bent toward her, his expression intent, his mouth moving.
At first she appeared to listen, then she gave an emphatic shake of her head, pulled her arm from his grasp, and hurried down the street. Brad took a step, seeming about to follow.
Cooper found he’d had enough. Before he even thought twice, he was standing outside Harry’s, with a grip on Brad’s shoulder.
He spun the man around. “What the hell are you doing?” Cooper demanded.
“What the hell am I doing?” The guy scowled. “What I’m doing is none of your business.”
Yeah, and normally Cooper wouldn’t think of sticking his nose in, but this was Willow and she’d been hurt by this asshole enough. “She doesn’t need you playing games like this.”
The former Marine’s cheeks turned ruddy. “What do you know about it?”
“Man, I just saw you trying to give her that ring again.” It glinted from between the dumb mug’s fingers. “She just returned it to you not fifteen minutes ago.”
Brad glanced down at it, then shoved it in his pocket. His gaze darted to the side. “Who’s that?”
Following the direction of his gaze, Cooper winced. “My father.” The older man was observing their interaction through the café window, a frown on his face.
“He doesn’t look happy.”
“Yeah, well, he has certain ideas about me and I never quite measure up.”
ANTE UP (7-Stud Club Book 3) Page 14
