by JoAnn Durgin
For the next few minutes, Amy replayed every conversation she’d shared with him since spotting him at the front of the church. The wedding program. Rummaging through her evening bag, she remembered she hadn’t wanted to fold it in order to squeeze it into the bag. Winnie had grabbed a few for her and said she’d give them to her in Houston, but she’d glanced at it at one point. Think. From what she could recall, the wedding party was so large all the names weren’t individually listed.
“Who doesn’t list the attendants?” she asked in the quiet of the hotel room. They’d all been introduced to the wedding guests at the reception, but she’d been helping Cassie fix something on her dress after the ladies were introduced, so she’d missed hearing his name. Still, everyone and their mother had called him Cooper, both before and after the ceremony.
Oh, no. This can’t be happening. Amy dropped the phone as though it burned her fingers and sat up on the edge of the bed. Closing her eyes tight, she slapped one hand on her forehead. What kind of fool am I?
“Lord, what did I do? Who did I kiss? Who is that man?”
Chapter 17
No sooner did Landon step inside the lobby the next morning than he knew something was wrong. Very wrong. Dark storm clouds loomed overhead and an ear-splitting clap of thunder boomed outside as he strolled across the lobby in her direction. Waiting in the lobby, legs crossed, hands clasped over her knees, Amy startled at the ominous sound. My, but she looked fetching dressed in jeans and a pale blue sweater. Much prettier than he’d imagined, and that was a whole lot of gorgeous. Either she wore very little makeup or was quite skillful at applying it. As beautiful as she’d looked for the wedding, he preferred this more natural Amy. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a few wispy strands escaped on the sides of her face. Sure enough, she tucked them behind her ear, first one and then the other.
Although he gave her his best smile, she barely acknowledged his presence. As he approached where she sat in a wing chair, she glanced at her watch, licked her lips and fidgeted. Her gaze darted around the small lobby, taking in everyone and everything except him.
“Good morning, Amy.” Removing his Stetson, he sat in an adjacent chair and ran a hand over his hair. “Missed you in the church service this morning.”
A fleeting expression of regret surfaced in her features. “Yes, well, you’d think a pastor’s kid could remember to show up for church.”
“You’re allowed. It’s been a busy weekend for all of us.” Did she actually feel miserable or guilty because she’d slept in? “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’m not.” She shifted her position and uncrossed her legs while her arms found their way across her chest like some kind of invisible shield. The sarcasm in her tone was difficult to miss as she narrowed her eyes. “You certainly look like the urban cowboy this morning.” Her all-encompassing glance swept over his well-worn boots, heavy suede jacket with white fleece collar, stonewashed jeans and black Henley. From the glint in her eye, she didn’t seem displeased with what she saw.
Determined not to let her sour mood dampen his high spirits, Landon resolved to charm her out of her funk or whatever this was. After watching her squirm for a couple of seconds, he’d had enough. “Look,” he said, scooting to the end of the chair, “is something wrong?” Leaning forward, not wanting other guests to hear, he rested his crossed arms on his knees. “You look like you could take the sting out of a rattler bare handed and not blink twice.” He brushed a section of dark hair away from his forehead and raised his brows.
Her eyes widened. “Where’d you get that? Some kind of cowboy euphemism handbook?”
Stiffening, he pursed his lips. Whoa. “Believe me, I could have been much more blunt. Maybe I should go outside and come back in again once you’ve recovered the lovely lady from the wedding. She’s the one I was hoping to drive to Houston . . . by way of Austin. Now she had spunk, but at least she was civil and polite.”
“Fine with me because I’m not sure I want to go with you.”
He ran a hand over his jaw. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She met his gaze head-on and he was shocked at the anger glimmering beneath the surface. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally this defensive and spiteful, but I’m . . . well, I’m very confused. To say the least.”
“I can tell. About what? Talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Let me help.”
“Okay, here’s a question for you. Exactly who are you?”
“Very funny. Surely you know who I am, especially after last night.” When she didn’t crack a smile, his grin sobered fast. “Really, Amy,” he said. “What’s up? I’m the same guy.”
“Why is everyone calling you Cooper?”
Interesting question. He needed to hear her out and get the reasoning behind her questions. Did she doubt him? Not trust him for some unknown reason? “It’s part of my name. I was on the newspaper staff at A&M and my nickname was ‘Coop the Scoop.’ Why? Who exactly do you think I am?”
“For the record, I don’t go around kissing strange men.”
“Well, neither do I, so we’re even on that point. Women, either. You think I’m strange?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” She slapped her hands on her jeans-clad thighs and rose to her feet. She started to pace in front of the chair. “I’m not quite sure of much of anything right now.”
Her words startled him back to the present. What’s going on here? “Care to enlighten me? Give me a name?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Do you have a twin who happens to live in New York?”
“No, I’m an only child.”
Plopping back down in the chair, she sat forward and rocked back and forth, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. “You see, here’s the thing.”
“Tell me. What’s the thing?” Surely that would bring her around.
Amy snapped her head up and stared at him for a few seconds. “I . . . I, um . . . .” She took in a deep shuddering breath and cleared her throat. “When I danced with you last night, and . . . kissed you, I . . . well, believe it or not, I thought you were . . . someone else.”
“Who on earth—?” He stopped. No way. She doesn’t know who I am? Perhaps the more important question was: Who does she think I am?
“Not long before coming here to Louisiana, I had a date in New York with a publisher named Landon Warnick. It was only one date,” she added, as if he might be upset at that revelation. “So it’s not like I’m being disloyal or anything.”
This conversation grew more interesting every time she opened her pretty mouth. Shifting in the chair, he assumed what he hoped was a neutral expression. His heart pounded against his chest, and his mind scattered in a hundred different directions. “Go on.” Stupid thing to say, but he needed to hear her out. Like everything else about this woman, it promised to be fascinating. Then he’d tell her the truth, they’d share a good laugh and get on their way to Austin. If nothing else, her assumptions made for a great story. At the moment, he wasn’t sure whether to act indignant, curious or just plain mystified.
“I have to say, in all honesty, I’m glad you’re not him.”
That got his attention real quick, but not in a good way. Pushing up farther in the chair, he grunted. “Why do you say that?”
“Because Landon—as wonderful as he is in many ways—can also be a bit arrogant, completely presumptuous, borderline rude and, if my boss is correct, sneaky and underhanded and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.”
“Is that right?” A rising cloud of anger stirred in his gut. It wasn’t so amusing anymore and he prayed he didn’t say something misguided. “What exactly did you tell this . . . Landon, is it?” Now he’d done it. He’d stepped over the line and there was no turning back. “Did you tell him to stay out of your life?” Oh, what a misguided fool you are.
“No, but I told him flat out I didn’t know whether I could trust him.”
He didn’t like the triumph sur
facing in those gorgeous eyes. “What’d he do? Run away like a coward?” He forced a grin. One thing was clear: Amy was more than a challenge. She was a woman with which to contend.
“Not at all. He laughed it off and didn’t give it a second thought. The resemblance between the two of you is quite extraordinary, though. Both in looks and . . . well, pretty much everything.” She leaned closer, peering at him, tilting her head. So close, he caught a whiff of her perfume—it was nice, not overpowering and stirred his senses.
“Do you want to touch my face or something?”
She sat back again. “Of course not. Sorry.”
“I assure you, I’m real. Pinch me and you’ll find I’m all flesh and blood, but you know what they say. Everyone has a twin somewhere in the world.” Stop talking now. “But does this other guy have my charm and savoir-faire?” He could have slapped himself. Of all the harebrained, idiotic, misguided, stupid things he’d done in his life, this was—hands down—his lowest moment. Absolute worst. “Why don’t you think you can trust him, if you don’t mind my asking?”
She stared at the floor for a long moment. “He’s too smooth, and my boss thinks . . . well, it doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand. “I’m not sure I believe her, anyway.”
“Did you say he’s a magazine publisher?”
“Right. A great one called New York Scene. It sounds like it’s about Manhattan nightlife or something, but it’s not. If you ask me, it’s not the best name for the magazine.”
That one hit a bit below the belt. “You don’t say.”
“But Landon’s one of the sharpest, best, most intuitive writers around. He’s amazing in so many ways.”
“You’re not sure you can trust him. Let me guess. Your boss doesn’t like him because she thinks Landon’s out to steal you away and put you on his payroll?” He grunted again and shifted in the chair. Good luck sleeping tonight, you liar. With every word, he dug himself in deeper. Judging by the way she looked at him, maybe he’d said too much already. He needed to confess. Then she’d know what a huge jerk he really was. Then you won’t have a chance with her—ever. That last thought stopped him cold. Now that he’d found her, call him selfish, but he didn’t want to risk losing her. Not at least without an opportunity to prove himself. Might take a lot of doing, but he had to try.
“Exactly. How could you know that?”
Her question brought him back to reality. “I’ve been in publishing, remember, and I also know a little something about business practices.” His eyes met hers. “I’m sure Landon knows how talented you are and only wants whatever’s best for you in the long run, but who am I to talk about it in the first place?” He’d gone off the deep end of the pool with that one, but it was starting to get a little fun. You’re not only a fool, you’re a perverse one.
She twisted her hands in her lap. Oh, she was intriguing. Even more so when she was nervous or fired up about something. Her nerves seemed to have calmed a little, but he wanted to still those antsy hands or else he’d kiss her senseless.
“You see, Cooper, when I agreed to go to Houston with you—by way of Austin, of course—I thought you were Landon.”
He allowed the hint of a grin. “I doubt Sam Lewis would have agreed to this arrangement if he didn’t trust me. Keeping his TeamWork crew safe is one of his top priorities.”
She nodded and appeared to breathe easier, the taut lines around her mouth relaxing. “You’re right,” she said, “and I trust you, too, or I wouldn’t even consider going anywhere alone with you.”
“Although you thought I was someone else, you like me as Cooper, right?” His conscience stabbed him hard on that one. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice the little slip tucked into that sentence.
“I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t like you. Two times I liked you.”
Landon rose to his feet. “The offer of a ride’s still good, but if you’d rather find another way to Houston, I’ll understand, considering the circumstances. Bottom line, Amy? I’m the same guy you danced with last night. Still the same guy . . . in every way.” He fixed his gaze on her and she didn’t disappoint. Raising her chin, the firm line of her mouth softened before she relented and graced him with her lovely smile. Ah, that smile. If she hated him the rest of her life—which was possible after the next few days—he’d forever remember it. Another loud clap of thunder made him jump, and she visibly startled. “It’s okay,” he said, attempting to sound as calm as possible. “A display of God’s power.” Or His wrath.
She was quiet for a few moments, her tumultuous thoughts evident behind her blank gaze. Finally, she said, “Perhaps against my better judgment, I’ll go with you. I need to go upstairs and get my things and then check out. I’ll be right down.” Rising from the chair, she headed toward the elevator.
“Let me help you.”
She paused and turned back to face him. “It’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable.”
“Capability isn’t the issue. You have bags and I have muscles.” Seeing the look on her face, he raised his hands and fought the urge to grin. “Okay, that didn’t come out the way I meant it, but we’ll leave the door open so the dorm mother won’t be alarmed. How’s that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop reading that stupid cowboy rule book, will you?”
He laughed and followed her into the elevator, wondering how many prayers for forgiveness he’d be saying the next few days, not to mention the rest of his life. If he wasn’t mistaken, relief tinged with amusement danced in her eyes. “I promised to take you to breakfast. Why don’t we start there and then play it by ear?”
“Since I already agreed to ride to Houston with you, and all my friends must have left by now, I think we’re more or less stuck with each other.”
“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be stuck with,” he said. “If you’re honest with yourself and me, you’ll admit you’re looking forward to this little road trip.”
“My, my, someone’s being mighty optimistic.” The reemerging humor in her voice was encouraging. “I just hope I’m not making one of the biggest mistakes of my life.”
“No need to be so dramatic,” Landon grumbled. Man, he’d dug the hole deep and wide and he needed to find a way to somehow climb out of it or die trying. Now who’s being overdramatic? Problem was, if he somehow managed to dig out of that pit, Amy would be waiting for him at the top—with a heavy shovel and more than ready to throw him right back down in that big, stupid hole.
Chapter 18
“So, to be perfectly clear, you were kissing Landon what’s-his-name last night, not me.” He leaned against the doorframe as Amy opened the door to her room and led him inside. Knowing he watched, she left the door ajar. When she shot him a look, Cooper raked one hand through his short, dark hair. “I guess that explains why you kissed me like that. Wow. Ego bruiser, that one. I just thought I was one really blessed guy.”
“Well, no. Apparently, I was that easy,” she said. “Weddings bring on all these ridiculous romantic feelings, and you’re . . .” She waved her hand in his direction. As uncomfortable as it made her, she suspected he was pretty good at reading her mind. “Do I really need to finish that sentence?”
The hint of a smile crossed his face. “My ego says yes, but my overriding sense of logic says you’d better not. Appreciate the thought, though. I have to ask, what happened to make you think I’m not Landon?” How she wished she could read his mind right about now.
“I got a voice mail message from him saying how much he enjoyed our date. He said he hoped I was having a good time wherever I was and said he’d look forward to seeing me again. That’s when this horrible feeling came over me and I realized this was a case of mistaken identity.”
“Not so sure about the horrible part.”
She smirked. “You know what I mean. I’m usually fairly intelligent, but in that moment, I felt like the world’s biggest fool. I have a photo of Landon in my bag. I can show you later, if you want. That way, you can see
who I’m talking about and understand why I thought you were him.”
He slanted an incredulous glance her way. “Not necessary, but let me get this straight. You carry this guy’s photo around with you?”
“Yes, but not really.” She blew out a breath. “It’s in his magazine. He’s the publisher and editor in chief, after all.”
“You seem pretty impressed by that, in spite of the fact you think the name of his magazine is all wrong.”
“And you sound a little jealous.” Why would he care or feel threatened?
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I can hold my own against some publisher guy any day of the week. What else you got?”
“For the record, I didn’t kiss Landon.” Glancing his way, she glimpsed something resembling wounded pride flitting across his features. Strange.
“I didn’t ask. Still, good to know, although it’s not exactly the most rousing recommendation for a guy. But,” Cooper said, tossing his hat on the closest chair, “since you brought it up, why not?”
Amy chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to conjure up a plausible answer. Why she said it in the first place, she had no idea. Oh, Lord, You have a warped sense of humor sometimes. How small is Your world, anyway? Really, what are the odds?
“Wart on the chin? Bad teeth? Acne as a teenager?” He snapped his fingers. “I know. Foul breath or bad—”
She held up one hand, laughing. “Stop it. He’s a very—extremely—handsome man, and believe me, the thought was there, if you must know.” She darted a quick glance at him and started gathering her belongings.
“You do realize you just paid me a big compliment.”
