“Besides, he’s never here,” Ella added, to pacify the well-dressed lynch mob leader on the other end of the line. Marilyn, Carissa, and Becca made a pretty intimidating mob, now that she thought about it. Their strategy and plan of attack every Black Friday was downright terrifying.
“Doesn’t his dad live up there?” Marilyn asked. “Can’t Coop stay with him while you’re there?”
“Butch’s cabin only has two bedrooms, and Coop’s a grown man. He’s not going to sleep on the couch or share a room with his teenaged brother for months.”
“Maybe I should drive up there,” Marilyn said, more to herself than to Ella.
“You’re acting like I’m living with him in the carnal sense, for goodness’ sakes. I don’t need a mother hen to rescue me. It’s sweet of you, it really is, but I’m fine. Coop is fine. We hardly see each other, and he has as much right to be here as I do. He’s half owner of this place, and he was technically here first.”
Marilyn hesitated.
“Come on, it’s fine. I promise the minute it stops being fine I’ll pack up and put Red River in my rearview mirror. Fair enough?”
A reluctant sigh came through the phone. “All right,” said Marilyn. “But I swear, if I hear any more gossip about him or if I hear any tension in your voice when I call you—eeeevery siiiingle daaaay—” she drew those three words out for melodramatic effect, “I’m coming up there. And I just might be packin’ heat.”
Right. Marilyn hated guns, but she wouldn’t hesitate to bring the US Marines, the ACLU, and a few radical feminist groups if she thought it would help get her way. Ella smiled at the phone. “Deal.” She laughed. “I really do miss you.”
Ella hung up the phone and whistled for Winston since Atlas must have been with Coop. “Let’s go for a walk, boy.” The beautiful day had turned into an even more beautiful evening. A little fresh air and sunshine might loosen the aching muscles in her back that had tightened after sitting in front of the computer all afternoon.
By the time Winston waddled down the steps and over to the stream, Coop’s truck crunched down the gravel-and-dirt drive and pulled to a stop next to her car. Atlas barked and pawed at the glass. As soon as Coop opened the door, Atlas trampled over him to jump from the truck and bound toward Winston. Coop walked over to them, grumbling under his breath at the dog. Then Atlas and Winston each latched on to one of Coop’s legs and humped.
“Hey!” Coop scolded both dogs.
“Oh, my God.” Ella’s hands went to her eyes, and she covered them. “Some things just can’t be unseen.”
“A little help here,” Coop said, kind of desperate. Kind of cute.
Ella peeked through her fanned fingers and laughed so hard a tear slid down her cheek.
“Yeah, thanks.” Coop shook Atlas loose and then tried to dislodge Winston. “Seriously, Dennings, can you get your dog off me?”
Ella shrugged. “He does seem to prefer men.”
Coop growled.
“Okay, okay.” She walked over and grabbed Winston’s collar, hauling him off her grumpy cabinmate. Her sexy, grumpy cabin-mate. “Bad boy, Winston,” she admonished the dog. “Winston and I were just going for a walk.” She gave Winston a scratch under the chin. “Um, you could come.” She stood and looked at Coop. Creases formed between his eyes. “Or not.” Bad idea. Being friendly to Coop just never seemed to work. “Maybe just Atlas could—”
“Okay.”
“Um. Okay then.” She nodded upstream. “This way?”
He fell in beside her, his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. The soothing sound of the stream lapping over rocks wound around them, and they walked along in silence. A gentle breeze rustled the cottonwoods, and the piney scent of summer settled over the landscape with the sun sinking to the west.
Winston lagged behind with his tongue wagging almost to the ground. Atlas scampered ahead for a few moments then doubled back to rejoin his buddy.
“Winston,” Coop said just that one word.
Ella gave him a curious look.
“He’s an English bulldog. You’re a history teacher. I didn’t make the connection at first, but I get it now.”
Ella chuckled. “He was Bradley’s dog, but Bradley wanted me to name him. It was either Winston or Churchill. Bradley liked the name Winston better.”
She waited for the smart-aleck remark about her being an anal-retentive, nerdy history teacher.
“Well I suppose it was better than naming him Adolf,” Coop teased.
And there it was. But she had to laugh, because amusement danced in his eyes instead of grouchiness. Those moments were rare with Coop, especially when he spoke to her. She liked it. A little too much, actually.
Coop stopped and turned to look at their dogs. Winston had thrown himself against a fallen log and refused to get up. Atlas sat at his side like a loyal companion.
“Uh, Ella, I don’t think he can make it any farther. Should I back my truck up and load him in the bed?”
She laughed. “Let him stay here. We can walk Atlas a little farther. Maybe Winston will have caught his breath by the time we get back.”
They ambled along at a slow pace, and the thrum Ella had been trying to ignore every time she and Coop were within fifty feet of each other revved into a steady cadence. It started in her belly and spread to her fingers and toes. Turned to a pulse and an ache by the time it reached the spot between her thighs. Progressed into a pull in her breasts and lodged in her chest where it made her yearn for something more with Coop. Something that was unimaginable and stupid because . . . well, this was Coop.
But what if . . . ?
Ella cleared her throat.
“So how’s your case?” she blurted. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Coop’s expression darkened. “The same I guess.” He kicked at a stick in his path. “Where are you planning to settle when you leave New Mexico?”
Her chest tightened. Of course he wanted to know when she’d be out of his way. Out of his life. Precisely why she didn’t need to be wondering what if.
She shrugged. “Don’t know exactly.”
“You don’t have a plan?”
She bristled. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” Oh, Lord. She really didn’t. “What about you? What will you do if things don’t . . . work out?”
He hissed in a breath. “It’ll work out. It has to.” Stopping, he turned his back to her and looked out over the meadow. He picked up a stick and threw it, whistling to Atlas. Atlas promptly ignored his master and sat by Winston’s side, licking his face.
Coop grumbled under his breath again and turned back to the cabin. “I’m heading back,” he said over his shoulder, and didn’t wait for her to catch up.
Avoiding Ella was his best course of action. He’d been doing a good job of it, just because she usually seemed to be annoyed by his mere presence. Until last week, after the firefighters’ dance. After that night, he had a whole different reason to avoid her. Just the sensual way she’d touched his chest made him crazy, and the way she put his hands on her breast, he couldn’t get the feel of her out of his mind. Hadn’t been able to think straight. So he stayed away as much as possible, finding anything, any reason at all to make himself scarce.
Coop pulled into his dad’s drive and followed it as it curved around a grove of aspens that ended in front of the small cabin. Pulling in between Butch’s and Cal’s trucks, Coop parked, grabbed the sodas he’d picked up on the way out of town, and got out.
He circled around to the back of the cabin and stopped dead in his tracks. Ella and Cal sat at the picnic table, their backs to him. They huddled over an open textbook. She was helping his little brother, the same way Bradley used to help him. Ella, who acted fairly aloof, at least when she was around Coop.
Ella’s finger moved across the page, and Cal’s eyes followed, his lips moving at the same pace. When Cal was finished, Ella
clapped, throwing one arm around him for a hug. She tousled his hair and they laughed together. Coop’s heart softened.
Before Coop could sneak away, Butch came barreling out of the shed with a bag of charcoal slung over one shoulder and lighter fluid in one hand. “Hey, son. I was just about to fire up the grill.”
Ella’s stare swiveled over her shoulder, and Cal waved to his brother. Drawing in a deep breath, Coop walked over to them.
Butch doused the charcoal with lighter fluid and tossed in a match. Flames billowed into the air while his dad joined them at the table.
“Hey, Coop. Ella’s teaching me reading strategies for my dyslexia.”
Coop stopped a few feet behind them, his stare wandering from Cal’s glowing expression to Ella’s. She stared down at Cal’s book. Hair up in a messy knot, her slender neck exposed. Stray wisps of auburn hair fluttered in the soft breeze, and the back of her shirt was hiked up just enough to expose a petite waist and velvet skin that he’d very much like to touch.
“That’s great, Cal.” Coop tore his gaze away from Ella. “That’ll come in handy when you go to college.” Cal shot a look at Ella, who gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Just like Bradley used to help you,” Butch blurted.
Ella’s gaze darted to Coop again. He’d begged Bradley never to tell anyone about his dyslexia. People thought he was stupid when they found out, but he never thought Bradley would keep it from Ella. Apparently, he was wrong, because from the look on her face, she didn’t know.
“Yep, Coop was always smart, but that reading thing held him back. If it hadn’t been for Bradley’s help, Coop wouldn’t have become a chiropractor. Right, Coop?”
Walking around the table, Coop set the soda down slowly and with purpose. And mowed down his dad with a sharp-ass glare.
Ella cleared her throat. “Without you two, I don’t think Bradley would’ve become a chiropractor either. So, it was a fair trade.”
Coop’s fury turned to confusion. Did Ella just give him some credit? It wasn’t the first time she sort of complimented him lately, and he was beginning to like it.
She closed the textbook. “I think that’s enough for today, Cal, but you need to read on your own every night. Eventually, the strategies I’m teaching you will become a habit, and you won’t even have to think about it. But it takes practice, practice, and more practice. Okay?”
“Sure, Ella. Thanks.” Cal thumped his fingers against the book like drumsticks. “Hey, why don’t you do the raft race with us to raise money for the Red River Library?”
She gave the back of her neck an uneasy rub. “I don’t know how to raft, and I’m not a great swimmer.”
Ella doesn’t excel at something? Pfft. But uncertainty washed over her face, and she tucked a wispy lock of hair behind one ear with a shaky hand.
“Maybe I could make a donation to the library instead,” Ella offered.
“It’s easy. Right, Coop?”
“Cal, if Ella’s scared, then leave her alone.” Coop shoved his hands in his pockets, and Ella’s eyes narrowed at him.
What had he said wrong? He was trying to help her out after the almost-compliment she’d just paid him about Bradley becoming a chiropractor.
Cal’s face fell in disappointment.
“Well, if it’s for the library, then I’m in,” she said, a challenging look in her eye.
Cal perked up like a little kid being offered a prize at the fair.
“I’m starting on Ella’s bathroom in the loft day after tomorrow.” Butch walked up and grabbed a soda from the table. “You boys are helping, right?” Butch shot a warning stare at Coop.
Okay. He guessed he knew what he’d be doing in his free time the next few weeks.
“I’ve rounded up a few more fellas to help, too,” Butch said, and he and Ella proceeded to argue over who was paying. She seemed soft and at ease in cutoff denim shorts, flip-flops, and some sort of white gypsy-looking top that gathered at the waist. Every time she moved, it rode up her torso, exposing a swatch of creamy skin and a perfectly round belly button. No piercing. No tattoos. Coop wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t the type, and he liked it that way. Her skin seemed almost untouched, unconquered. Like it was calling for him to do the touching and the conquering.
Coop’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he jumped. Digging it out, he looked at the number and his heart stuttered. His attorney, Angelique Barbetta. It could be good news. Then again, Angelique, one of Albuquerque’s most ferocious criminal defense attorneys, could be calling to warn him that the police were on their way with a warrant for his arrest.
He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw and turned away to face whatever waited on the other end of the call. Walking to the other side of the yard for privacy, he pressed the green button on his phone and raised it to his ear.
“Hey, Angelique. What’s the news?” He turned back to watch his family laugh with Ella while they worked together to prepare the table. Ella fit with the Wells men like an olive fit with a martini.
“You want the good or the bad first?” Angelique cut to the chase with her usual alpha-female tone.
Coop ran a hand through his hair. “I need to hear something good right now.” He looked at Ella, who poured lemonade into glasses from a jug. Cal said something to her and she flashed a dazzling smile.
“Kim’s story is unraveling. We’re not out of the woods yet, but she gave another statement, and it didn’t exactly match up to the statement she made for the criminal lawsuit. It’s a small crack in the dam that we can capitalize on.”
“Does that mean this might all go away soon?” Coop tried not to get his hopes up, but looking across the yard at Ella, his chest squeezed with the prospect of starting over with a clean slate.
“The mismatched statements, plus the fact that there’s no physical evidence to support her claim, weakens her allegations even more. If she doesn’t drop the complaint soon and you actually do get arrested, I’ll request a deposition and break her when she’s under oath. When I’m done, her attorney would be crazy to let this thing go to trial.”
Angelique would do just that. They’d known each other since high school and gone through four years at UNM together. They’d been friends and never dated, which was one of the reasons he’d hired her. That and the fact that he’d watched her grind up her opponents on the volleyball court in high school. And she’d hammered the opposing debate team into dust, sinking her teeth in like a pit bull with no mercy until she’d claimed victory and had at least one of the girls in tears. It was an awesome sight to behold. And scary.
She’d won his respect, so he never entertained the idea of dating her. Plus, he was a little intimidated by her himself, and she was on his side.
“And why did she give another statement?”
Angelique hesitated. “Well, that’s the bad news.”
Coop pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go ahead, Ang. I’m ready.” Did he have a choice?
“Miss Arrington filed a civil suit against you seeking monetary damages.”
He closed his eyes. When would Kim take her fangs out of him and let him live his life again? All because he broke up with her?
“Her attorney already approached me with an offer, which I turned down. If he thought Kim had a snowball’s chance in hell of winning, he wouldn’t have even suggested a settlement this soon.”
“I hope you told Kim and her attorney to shove it in a very uncomfortable spot where the sun rarely shines.”
Angelique laughed. “Not in those words, but yes. Their case is so weak, it would be foolish for you to agree to any kind of settlement. It’s just a matter of being patient and not doing anything stupid that would be incriminating.”
Coop went still and glanced at Ella. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. “Listen, Ang, there’s a new development that you should know about.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “I can already tell I’m not going to like this.”
“You know how I owned the cabin fifty-fifty with Bradley?”
“Yeeees,” she drew out. “Something tells me you’re about to ruin my day.”
“His wife moved in for the summer.” He braced himself for the storm.
“What’s wrong with you, Coop?” Angelique erupted. “Are you sleeping with her? Because I told you to avoid getting involved with women on any level until this is over.”
“Calm down, and no, of course we’re not sleeping together. I’m the last person on earth Ella would get involved with.”
Ella’d said so herself at Joe’s, but he conveniently left out how her hands had roamed all over his torso and how she’d encouraged him to do the same to her while under the influence of one Mr. J. Daniels. Angelique’s fuse was already burning low. She’d blow a gasket if he told her everything.
“Interesting how you said she wouldn’t get involved with you. Are you thinking about sleeping with her?”
Yes, almost tumbled out of his mouth. “No!” Not until recently. His eyes clamped shut. Angelique was right—what was wrong with him? He was an idiot. An idiot who wanted to shag his best friend’s widow.
“If she misinterprets just one of your actions, do you know how bad it would look for you?”
“I wasn’t happy about it either, but it’s done. And Ella isn’t a threat to my case. She’s . . .” Freaking gorgeous. “She’s a teacher and kind of a goody-goody.” Except when she wasn’t.
Angelique exhaled. Loudly, to make her displeasure known. “If that’s true, then it might work to our advantage. We could always call her as a character witness.”
“Try not to worry too much, okay?” Coop said.
“I’m supposed to say that to you. Just keep it in your pants, Wells, you hear me?”
Sure. No problem.
“I’ll get back to you with an update soon,” Angelique promised. “For now, sit tight and don’t do anything stupid.”
Like sleep with my best buddy’s wife?
It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel) Page 10
