Cal walked to the Beamer where their dad, Butch, sat behind the wheel. Cal pulled suitcases from the backseat, and Butch popped the trunk and got out to retrieve its hidden treasures.
Butch’s resemblance to his two sons was uncanny. With graying hair and a small spare tire around his middle brought on by age and retirement, Butch wore a jovial smile.
When Coop’s boots landed on the wooden porch and he stomped the mud off, Ella twitched. She bristled, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.
“Hi,” he mumbled when he charged through the door, a muddy clump dangling from one hand. Then he just stood there. He blinked once. Then twice, his eyes traveling down her bare legs. Swallowing, the muscles in his contoured neck flexed, sending a strange tingle through Ella’s chest.
She tugged the afghan tighter. “I, uh, didn’t have any of my own clean clothes to put on, so I borrowed more of yours. I hope you don’t mind.”
When she uncrossed her legs, Coop blew out a heavy breath, and his eyes grew darker. With his dislike of her emanating from his very pores, Ella’s nerves got the better of her. She babbled out a lame explanation. “Uh, I don’t usually rummage through other people’s things, but I found these hanging in the bathroom and they smelled relatively clean.” She opened the afghan like a flasher to reveal his running shorts and the T-shirt he’d loaned her to sleep in. And yes, she had smelled them before putting them on and found no offensive odor. After searching the medicine cabinet, she doused them with body spray anyway. “I’ll wash them before I give them back.”
“Yeah. Fine.” His hazel eyes clouded over, and several wrinkles appeared between his brows. “The Beamer runs, but the roads are so rutted and muddy we had to pull it here. It’ll be a few days before you can get on the road again.”
She tensed. “I told you last night. I’m staying the summer.”
“No.” Coop scrubbed a hand over the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. “You’re not.”
She placed her cup on the bar and stood to do battle, but Calvin burst through the door with Butch on his heels. Each carried suitcases in both hands and under their arms.
“Great to see you, Ella!” Butch roared. He dropped his load, then converged on her, swinging her around in a bear hug.
“Butch! It’s been too long. Haven’t seen you since you moved up here permanently.” When Butch put her down, she turned to Calvin and ruffled his hair. “You’re so tall, kiddo. I blinked, and you grew up.” She nudged Butch. “Handsome, too. You got your stick out, Dad, to scare off all the pretty girls?”
Calvin kicked the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. His ears burned bright red, like any seventeen-year-old boy’s would when talking about girls. “Good to see you, too, Ella.”
Butch tossed his chin toward the mound of purple paisley luggage. “Looks like you’re stayin’ a while.”
Ella glanced Coop’s way, a smile on her plump, rosy lips. They danced when she spoke, and he wondered for the millionth time how they would taste. Again. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I’m here for the summer.”
Okay, been there, tasted that. Focus, idiot, she has to go.
“Hey, hey! That’s great, Ella,” Butch bellowed.
Coop wanted to roll his eyes. Why did his father make such a fool of himself around women? Especially those with a superiority complex. Luckily, none of his five short-lived marriages had stuck. The minute one of them said a cross word to Coop, they were history. He was a good dad, but when it came to women, he could be obtuse. Okay, dumb as a stump would be a better description, but hey, Butch deserved some credit for being a five-star father. Why it took his dad five failed marriages to figure out that he should probably stay single still perplexed Coop, because Coop decided he’d never marry by the time stepmom number two left.
As the familial traitors gushed over the unwanted intruder, Coop couldn’t keep his mouth shut. As usual.
“Why?” he asked.
Three sets of cheerful eyes turned on him. Merriment faded from the emerald-green pair.
“Excuse me?” Ella asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Why are you here for the summer?” Coop tried to sound civil, but his dad’s glare told him he failed.
She shot Coop a look that could wither a full-grown oak tree. “I do own half this place.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question,” Coop ground out.
“I wasn’t aware that I answered to you,” Ella shot back.
Butch cleared his throat. “Uh, why don’t we sit down and figure this out. Is that coffee I smell?”
Ella turned a charming smile on Butch. “It is, Butch, and there’s just enough left for you.” When her eyes returned to Coop, those upturned lips melted downward into a frown.
Coop held up the muddy object in his hand. “This yours?”
Ella’s brow wrinkled. “It vaguely resembles the shoe I lost last night in the ditch.”
He tossed it to one side, and it rolled toward the door.
“Uh, thanks, but you could’ve left it on the porch,” she mumbled.
“The handsome prince brought Cinderella her shoe,” Cal teased.
Coop tried to incinerate his little brother with a glare. Neither Bradley nor Ella ever knew he had pinned her with that nickname, mostly because he never meant it as a compliment. He’d already been a crummy friend to Bradley, in so many ways. If Cal gave him away now, Coop would siphon off the gasoline from his truck every night for the entire summer. Keeping his cocky little teenaged butt home might teach him a thing or two about family loyalty.
Butch rattled around in the kitchen, making a cup of coffee. Cal plopped into the recliner, kicking his feet up while he dug out his phone. He held it high. “Reception here still sucks. Too bad you don’t have Wi-Fi.”
“Oh, I brought a router.” Ella folded herself onto the sofa and meticulously propped her bare feet up on the coffee table. “Best one on the market. It can catch a signal from Colorado. The cable company will be here day after tomorrow to hook it up.”
Coop’s gaze raked the length of those long, graceful legs that stretched from here to heaven and . . . “Wait. Cable? Oh, no.” He shook his head. “If you want all the conveniences of city life, then go back to Albuquerque.”
“I can’t.”
Butch joined them in the den, and sat next to Ella. He sipped his coffee. “Mmm, Ella, you always did make a killer cup of coffee.” Then he gave Ella’s knee an affectionate pat like she was his long-lost daughter.
“Dad,” Coop fumed. “Do you mind?”
“Mind what?” Butch’s blank expression made Coop almost sympathetic toward his mother and four ex-stepmothers. Well, not his mother. She was so much like Ella. Always looking down on Red River and the people here. Always wanting to go on an adventure, live the lifestyles of the rich and famous. Please.
Coop pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you go back to Albuquerque?”
She fidgeted with a ring on her left hand, turning it in a complete circle. Her wedding ring. Guilt pinged his chest.
“I’ve sold the house and put most of my belongings in storage. I’m leaving New Mexico.” She gave Coop a determined stare. “But first, I’m spending the summer in Red River. It’s the last thing I need to do to say good-bye to Bradley.”
And there it was again. The guilt card.
Yes, Bradley had been his best friend. Yes, Coop owed him. Big. But he absolutely, unequivocally, could not live under the same roof with Ella for the next three months. Not no, but hel—
Wetness shimmered in her eyes and dampened the silky lashes that brushed her cheeks every time she blinked.
No, no. Not tears. Anything but tears.
She sniffed.
Coop closed his eyes. Yep, he just went down in flames.
“Aw, Ella. You’re too pretty to cry,” cooed Cal, looking bashful
. His teenage crush announced itself in his lovesick puppy stare.
Butch grabbed a napkin off the coffee table and handed it to Ella. She looked at it like it might be diseased, then used a tiny corner to dab her eyes.
“Now, now, sugar,” Butch soothed her. “This is your place as much as Coop’s, and you should stay as long as you need. I’ll even fix up that old bathroom in the loft for you. That way you’ll have some privacy.”
“And some cleanliness,” she said in between sniffles. “Thank you, Butch, but I don’t want to put you to all that trouble.”
“Nonsense, young lady. I’m retired, and Cal and I live up here year-round now.” Butch thumped his chest and chuckled. “It’ll give this old man something constructive to do.”
Coop made a mental note to remind his dad that blood was supposed to be thicker than water. After he sold his condo in Albuquerque to help pay for his legal fees, Coop had moved here to be near family. Thought it would ease the blow of his tarnished reputation back in Albuquerque, where most of his “friends” had stopped returning his calls. Apparently, neither his father nor his little brother understood the meaning of family allegiance.
Butch draped his arm around Ella’s shoulders. “Bradley was like a son to me. I darn near raised him.”
Ella sniffed, and dabbed, and nodded and sniffed some more. “He loved you like a father. He always said you were the reason he became a chiropractor—because you were a chiropractor.” She gave Coop a dismissive glance. “And, of course, because Coop wanted to be one, too.”
Butch laughed. “Yessiree, always partners in crime. They looked out for each other since they were kids.” He hesitated and lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “And . . . you know . . . Bradley’s parents got into that cult stuff. Always leaving him alone ’til all hours of the night, forgetting to pick him up from school because they were at a ‘meeting.’” He did air quotes with his fingers. “Even gave away all their money to the cult leader, then wanted Bradley to support them when he went into practice. That kid worked like a dog putting himself through school.”
“I’m glad he had you, Butch. Thanks for looking out for him and for helping him with tuition. He never forgot it.”
“We’ll be here for you, too, Ella, as long as you need us.” Butch gave Coop one of those looks. The look that said, Do what I say or I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your natural-born life. “Right, Coop?”
Coop tried to unclench his locked jaw. “Sure. We’ll manage. I guess.”
A whimper drew his attention to the floor vent in front of the window. Atlas lay on his back, Winston doing his best to have his merry way with him. Atlas licked Winston’s wrinkled face. Well, if Coop and Atlas were both going to get screwed, at least one of them should enjoy it.
Chapter Four
Ella and the three Wells men drove into Red River, the gargantuan tires on Coop’s truck rattling her brain. Was he trying to hit every pothole in the county? Hells bells, she needed her own four-wheel drive.
Still, she enjoyed the scenery as they tooled into the city limits. She’d arrived after dark, with only the moon to cast a glow over the sleepy little town where the sidewalks rolled up at a certain hour. This morning the white crest of Wheeler Peak towered overhead, dwarfing the rest of the mountain chain. Tourists ambled along the sidewalks, and the strips of businesses that lined the streets boasted red-barn or wood-siding facades, giving the town a historic feel. Nothing had changed since her only visit to Red River all those years ago. Not one thing. And that was part of the nostalgic charm of a small community woven so tight that it became a sanctuary of sorts.
When they pulled up in front of the Red River Market, the town’s only grocery store, Ella bailed out of the backseat and considered walking back to the cabin. She clutched the truck bed with one hand, letting the fresh air settle her motion sickness.
Butch climbed out of the front passenger seat. “You okay, Ella? You look a little green.”
“I’m fine.” No way was she going to admit to getting carsick. She wasn’t about to give Coop the satisfaction of thinking she was that much of a wimp.
“Coop, give your keys to Cal,” Butch said, easily commanding his boys.
She envied their closeness. Even though Butch had been unlucky in love, he did a great job with his two sons. An amazing feat, considering he had pretty much raised them on his own. As a high school teacher, it wasn’t hard for Ella to spot the difference between the kids who had involved parents and those who didn’t.
“Cal,” he directed, “you help Ella with her grocery bags. Load them in the truck when she’s done shopping. It’s cool enough for them to keep awhile in the truck.” He turned to Ella, and his tone melted to one of affection. “You take your time, Ella. When you’re done, you and Cal meet us across the street at the Gold Miner’s Café. Breakfast is on me, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him. Butch had a warmheartedness that her father never possessed. An affectionate side that always touched her. Just like Bradley. She glanced at Coop, who stewed with his hands in his pockets. Amazing how different Butch’s oldest son turned out. Cal got more of his father’s “happy” gene than his older brother.
Her phone beeped.
“Finally,” Cal sighed. “We’ve got reception again.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and fired off a text.
“Thanks, Butch. We shouldn’t be long,” Ella said. She watched Butch and his brooding firstborn head across the street to the café. A Jeep puttered down the street, waving at the Wells men as it passed. Butch waved back, but Coop kept both hands hidden in his pockets. Faded Levi’s hung low on his narrow hips, and Ella pulled in her bottom lip, her eyes grazing over his nice bottom. A blue plaid flannel shirt covered a plain white T-shirt that stretched taut across his broad shoulders, the shirttails flapping in the breeze. She gave her head an infinitesimal shake. What a waste; that perfect male body paired with such a sour personality.
Turning away, she scrolled through her missed call log. Her parents and her sister, Charlene. Ouch. Probably wanting to know if she arrived in Red River safely. They were also more than likely plotting some sort of family conspiracy to get her to move back to East Texas. She’d call them later, after she had a few dozen more cups of coffee.
A couple of missed calls from close friends back in Albuquerque, also probably wanting to check up on her. She sent them a quick group text. Got here fine. Well, mostly, but the details were too long to type in a text. No cell reception at cabin. Call on landline.
She checked her voice mail. Cynthia Caldwell’s name popped onto the screen. Ella glanced up at Cal. “Uh, Cal. Why don’t you go on in, and get a cart for me. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure.” Cal ambled into the small market with a teenaged swagger.
She hit the Listen button, and Cyn’s voice crowed through the line. “Violet! How’s my favorite New York Times Bestselling Erotic Romance Author? Girlfriend, I’m still on cloud nine about it,” her editor gushed. “Just making sure you got to . . . where is it you’re staying for the summer? Anyway, your deadline for book three has been moved up. Wanton Publishing has decided to fast-track the next release because sales for the first two books have shot through the roof! Send me what you’ve got so far. And don’t forget, we need an excerpt for book four, like yesterday. That should have the preorders flooding in.” Cyn cackled. “Did you see this morning’s top news story?”
Ella turned and looked both ways down the street, her chest tight.
“A chick fight broke out at a Book-Mart in Cleveland. Apparently, two of your fans tried to grab the last copy of New Mexico Naughty.” The excitement in her voice made Ella’s embarrassment grow, and heat eased up her neck into her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears grew hot. “Really, haven’t these women heard of e-readers? I’ll just bet book three debuts even higher on the bestseller list than the first two. Well, tootles
, and call me soon.” The message ended, and Ella looked around to see if anyone had guessed her dirty little secret. Even though she wasn’t on speakerphone, she felt exposed. Like after having a dream where she was naked in a public place.
Jeez, Dennings, grow up, she scolded herself, because really, she was a grown woman for crying out loud. Why should she care if her real identity got out? Except that she’d been a role model for her high school students and had grown up in the Bible Belt sitting in the front pew every Sunday because her dad was a deacon. Her family would probably disown her, and if she ever wanted to return to the teaching profession, she might be hard-pressed to find a school district that would hire an erotic romance novelist to teach impressionable teens.
But if she was careful, no one would ever find out.
“I can’t tell Ella, Dad,” Coop insisted, for about the hundredth time since they walked into the Gold Miner’s Café.
Caricatures of famous visitors hung on the wood-paneled walls. Most of the glossy wood tables were occupied with patrons wanting the best home-cooked breakfast in town. Chatter was high, but heads were down, eating and talking at the same time because the food was just too good to let it get cold.
“Tell me what?” Ella stepped from behind a group of customers who loitered in the aisle to exchange pleasantries with another table. She sat down next to Butch, and Cal plopped into the chair opposite her. “That you’re hiding out in Red River until your legal problems back in Albuquerque are resolved? Something to do with a woman scorned, I think Cal said.”
Coop blinked; he tried to speak but nothing audible came out. Then he leveled a deadly look at his little brother. Definitely siphoning off the little rat’s gasoline tonight.
Cal shrugged. “Sorry, dude. She asked when you were going back to Albuquerque. I had to tell her.”
“Really? Did you tell her my shoe size, too? Since you two are so chummy, why don’t you tell her what brand of underwear I use?” Coop wanted to smirk, because she’d probably already figured that out. The way she checked him out last night when he was wearing nothing but underwear, she probably knew the brand, size, and thread count.
It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel) Page 3
