He stared at Ella, laughing and talking with his dad and brother across the yard. Happy in the breezy June evening against the green mountains and blue sky of the Red River Valley, not one of the three doubted his innocence.
A startling thought crossed his mind. Maybe he belonged here year-round with family. With friends who didn’t jump to the wrong conclusions about him. With people he could lean on through tough times, like now, and who believed him because they knew the kind of man he really was, deep inside. With someone like Ella.
Jesus, where did that come from?
“Coop, are you listening?” Angelique blasted through the phone.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m listening.” Only he wasn’t, because his entire world was tilting off balance right now, and not just because of his legal problems.
He stared across the yard at his best friend’s widow, the cold hollowness of guilt creeping into his chest. He wanted her. Wanted to get to know her better the way Bradley had. Wanted her to stop looking at him with such deep disapproval. Instead, he wanted to see acceptance in her eyes when she looked at him.
And desire.
Chapter Twelve
Wanton Publishing loved Rio Grande Romp. Success had a price, though. Cyn Caldwell was after her like a fire-breathing dragon to produce that excerpt for book four.
Ouch. Ella hadn’t even started it yet.
Dressed and ready for the raft race, Ella sat at the table in front of her laptop, trying to get a little work done before she left for the river. She tapped her nails against her lips and tried to force her brain to engage. A blank white page glared at her. Had been glaring at her since early that morning. Maybe if she could think of a title first, she could find inspiration.
High Country Heat. High Country Hottie.
Ella dropped her head in her hands.
She’d thought Red River would provide a peaceful getaway for her to do some serious writing. But with Butch’s troop of tool-carrying helpers milling around her the last few days delivering supplies and taking measurements for her new bathroom, the creative juices just weren’t flowing.
The memory of Coop’s touch didn’t help her attention span, either. After the firefighters’ dance when his hands had closed over her and caressed, the smoky look in his eyes nearly made her forget how much he really disliked her. At that moment his expression hadn’t communicated his usual distaste for her. He’d clearly wanted her, but his eyes didn’t look at her like she was a mere object of physical pleasure. They looked into her soul.
She wished she could erase that precise look from her memory, because every time they stepped into the same room, her pulse shot up like a thermometer in the middle of a Texas summer.
Finally, Ella held both palms up facing the laptop. “I surrender.” She rolled her eyes and flipped the lid down. Jeez, she really needed to get a life.
An hour later, she showed up to the eighth annual Fourth of July Red River Raft Race for Literacy clad in spandex leggings with a pair of running shorts over them, water shoes, a spandex long-sleeved shirt to protect her fair complexion from the blazing New Mexico sun, and a baseball cap that said I have a black belt in history.
She pulled her shoulder-length hair through the back of the cap and doused her hands, neck, and face with sunscreen. She locked her car and crossed NM Highway 68 to the rally point. A veritable county fair was already in full swing.
“Hey, Ella!” Cal waved her over to the first aid booth. Cal and two volunteer firefighters wore first aid vests.
“Hi, guys.” Ella smiled and joined them. “You guys look great. I feel safe already.” She tried to squelch the fear that stung her stomach like a nest of angry bumblebees. Yeah, she was safe. Of course she was. Don’t be a wuss, Dennings.
Cal’s boyish grin lit his eyes. “I took the fire department’s first aid and safety training, so I’m official now.” He positively glowed.
During one of their tutoring sessions, Cal had shared with Ella that he didn’t want to become a chiropractor. He wanted to be a firefighter. He just hadn’t shared that decision with his dad and brother yet because of the firestorm it was likely to spark.
Ella could relate. Her parents had her ranching profession and entire life planned out for her since she was old enough to remember.
Two boys darted past, one chasing the other using a Steak on a Stick as a weapon.
“Stop that!” Their tall, blond, early-thirties mother yelled after them as she walked up to the first aid booth. “Or I’ll make you take two baths tonight instead of just one.” They both stopped running, and the pursuer hid the Steak on a Stick behind his back. She shook her head and turned to the first aid volunteers behind the booth. “They’ll probably be your first customers of the day.”
She stuck out a hand to Ella. “Lorenda Lawson. You must be Ella Dennings.”
Ella shook Lorenda’s hand with a curious smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“I already heard you moved to town.” She shrugged. “Small town and all. News travels fast.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Lorenda. Are you rafting today?” Ella asked her.
“Not me. No one to watch the kids for that long. My mom and dad are showing property to clients in Angel Fire today, so I’m here representing our real estate office.” Lorenda shook her head. “Like I’m going to be able to reel in new clients while chasing two kids around.” She smiled toward her two boys, who were trying to skim rocks across the river.
“Ella,” Cal broke in. “I think Coop’s starting the rafting lesson for the beginners.” He pointed to the river where a small crowd had gathered around Coop for Rafting 101.
“It looks like he could use some help,” Lorenda drawled. They all looked toward the riverbank, where a voluptuous pupil in a skimpy bikini rubbed all over Coop. Her lower back bowed so far it made her scantily clad chest jut toward him. She tossed her curly locks over one shoulder, revealing her yellow string bikini top for Coop’s full view. The muscles in Ella’s neck went taut, and something prickled over her like a thousand tiny pinpricks. When Coop looked past the eager female student to talk to someone else, Ella relaxed.
“That’s Sandra Edwards. She works at one of the ski and souvenir shops,” Cal said, in awe.
“I know who she is.” Lorenda turned a scolding eye on Cal. “And her name isn’t just Sandra. It’s also Trouble.” She looked back at Coop like a protective mother hen. “Something Coop doesn’t need more of right now.”
No. No, he didn’t. And at the moment, Ella wanted that itty-bitty bikini to stop rubbing all over Coop—because yes, she was a little jealous if she had to be completely honest. And a little catty. And a little hot and bothered by the spandex athletic shorts and tank top that revealed his beautifully sculpted body. The combination of sporty sunglasses and the boyish grin gave him the bad boy look that women went wild for, each believing they could tame him. Of course, they couldn’t.
Hence, the trail of broken hearts in Cooper Wells’s wake. And the pissed-off girlfriend who was trying to make sure he suffered. And Ella’s growing desire to unwrap that “package” she’d admired the first night she arrived at the cabin, to see for herself what all the fuss was really about.
“I think she’s only got eyes for Coop,” one of the young volunteer firefighters said, and the other one snickered.
“She’s got eyes for anyone with a bank account,” Lorenda spoke up.
“Seriously, Ella, maybe you should head down there.” Cal nodded toward his big brother.
Ella squared her shoulders and tried to calm her thudding heart. It’s no big deal, Dennings. A few kids were even in the beginners group.
Like a kid headed to the principal’s office, Ella dragged her feet toward the crowd. Coop had already passed out life jackets and explained how to tighten them. The water flowing around his muscled calves and his white sleeveless undershirt accentuated his bronzed skin.
“Have fun,” Lorenda called after her. “You look thrilled.”
“Positively elated,” Ella said with a dreary tone.
“We’ll be patrolling up and down the river if you need help.” Cal assured her. “And Coop will be in the water watching out for the racers.”
Great. That would relieve her stress.
She walked to the riverbank where Coop’s rafting lesson was already in full swing. Coop demonstrated paddling with alternate strokes, the movements causing toned muscles in his arms to ripple and harden. Her tongue darted out to wet parched lips, and her entire body grew warm.
The sun. It was the sun. She cleared her throat. Definitely the sun.
His head turned in her direction. Behind a pair of polarized sunglasses, it was impossible to see if his eyes were on her, but Ella knew they were because his fun, flirtatious expression faded.
“Glad you could join us, Ms. Dennings,” Coop said dryly. The sexy, De Niroesque mole under his left eye was visible just below his sunglasses, and it elicited a tingle from Ella in a certain place where it shouldn’t. “I figured you must be an expert rafter, since you chose to miss most of the lesson.”
She folded her arms across her chest and jutted out a hip with attitude, but she didn’t say anything. Not with her body humming and her mouth turning to gravel just from looking at him.
Coop finished the lesson with general directions about how to maneuver the small one-person craft with the paddle, and Ella didn’t understand a word he said.
Ella had joined the lesson wearing something that looked like a second skin, and Coop stopped talking to the class midsentence. He willed himself to stop staring but couldn’t tear his gaze off of her. The woman could put on a flour sack and make it look good.
Guilt coursed through him. She was Bradley’s.
Ross walked up and grabbed two life vests. He handed one to Ella and tried to help her into it. Ella accepted graciously.
“Sandra,” Coop unwound her catlike grip from his bicep. “Wait here.” She hissed when he stepped away.
He approached Ross and Ella, Ross fumbling with the fasteners on her vest. “Hey, Ross. Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, Coop. What’s up?”
“See that pretty little thing over there?” He hitched his chin toward Sandra I’m-Looking-For-A-Sugar-Daddy Edwards. “She needs some assistance. Could you help her tighten the vest and watch out for her on the river?”
“Uh.” Ross looked in Sandra’s direction, his mouth opening and closing several times. “Sure, man.”
“Thanks, dude. I’ll have my hands full with the other newbies.” He gave Ross a fist bump. “Sandra will need your undivided attention.”
Ross gave Ella a torn look. “You’ll be okay without me?”
“I’ll be fine, Ross. Go have fun.” Ella still struggled with the buckles.
“I owe you one, big guy.” Coop slapped him on the back.
“No problem. I’ll take one for the team.” Ross headed over to Sandra, and she latched on to his arm like a slot machine that was guaranteed to spit out coins with every pull of the handle.
Coop stepped into Ella’s space and tugged at the shoulders of her vest. It nearly lifted straight over her head. “This has to be tighter. If you end up in the water, it’ll pop up over your head, and you won’t be able to see where the current is taking you.” He inserted his fingers into the front of the vest and tugged toward him. She lost her footing and landed against his chest. Her breath caught, and so did his when she turned those big green eyes up at him. He set her away from him and tugged on the nylon strap under her right arm, cinching it up all the way. She gasped.
“That’s kind of tight,” she said uncomfortably.
He yanked the other side just as tight, and she made a face.
“It has to be to save your life.”
Ella blanched. “I didn’t realize my life would need to be saved when I signed up for this. Or that I’d be required to wear a corset from the 1700s.”
He tugged the front strap, trying not to picture her in a corset. The night of the firefighters’ dance, when the wet fabric of her dress had revealed lacy bikini panties, he’d been surprised. He’d expected her to wear parachute panties or something completely boring.
“It’s like a torture device.” She let out a groan. “Seriously, will my life really be in danger?”
“The little bit of risk involved is the whole point. The adrenaline rush is part of the fun.” He secured the straps over her shoulders. “You do know how to have fun, right?” he teased.
She glared at him.
He sighed. “I’ll be on the river in case you need help.”
“I’m not like you, Coop. I don’t need an adrenaline rush to have fun. I like to take things slow and easy.”
“Is that why you’re wearing your grandma’s swimsuit?” He snapped one of the buckles together and secured it. Needling her was the only thing that kept his mind off of the zing he felt inside every time he stepped into her presence lately.
“I beg your pardon?” she sputtered. “I have to cover my arms and legs. Sunscreen doesn’t work as well on my complexion. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a redhead.”
Oh, he’d noticed.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He crinkled his brow and stared at the hair protruding from her baseball cap. Studied it for a second for dramatic effect. “Hmm. I guess you’re right.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Love the wifebeater tank top, Coop. It suits you.”
He bristled. Considering he’d been unjustly accused of a crime against a woman, that was a cheap shot. “Are you stereotyping me, Ella?”
“Yep.”
He pulled the last strap tight, and she lost her balance again. When she grabbed his bicep for balance, his skin tingled under her fingers. He hadn’t felt that sensation when Sandra wrapped her cat claws around his arm. Sandra hadn’t interested him in the least. Coop couldn’t get away from her quickly enough. It was Ella who tugged at his attention and made his pulse sing like the engine of a brand-new luxury car.
“Try not to fall behind, Dennings.” He finished adjusting the vest. “I’ll have to tow you in if you can’t make it to the finish line on your own.” He gave the life jacket one last tug. Her knees dipped a little, and her grip tightened around his arm. He steadied her, his heart softening when fear flashed in her eyes and her brow furrowed. Okay, enough of his razzing her. She really seemed scared. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“If you can do it, then I can certainly do it.”
He studied her for a second, then gave his head a quick shake. He looped a nylon cord around her neck and tucked the whistle dangling from it inside the vest. “If you get in trouble, use this.”
“Don’t worry about me, Coop. I can take care of myself.”
“Is that so? Then when we go through the Eye of the Needle, you won’t need my help.”
She frowned. “The Eye of the Needle? What’s that?”
“The only class-four rapid on the course,” he said as he turned toward his raft.
Chapter Thirteen
Ella held the double-bladed paddle in her hands, not entirely sure why rafting was considered fun. Nothing about it looked fun to her. She’d watched Coop give another demonstration, watched the first, second, and third waves get in the water and practice before taking off. Not a darned thing about it looked fun to her. When he talked about rolling a capsized raft back into its upright position, her stomach tossed for a second or two.
She tried to stop the trembling in her hands and looked across the river at Coop. He sat in his single-person raft, treading in the same spot like an expert Olympian rafter.
“Okay, last wave. Get into your raft. When you see the orange flag waving,” he pointed to Dylan fifty yards downriver, “use your paddle to push off. Remember—don’t cro
wd the person ahead of you, especially when we get to the rapids. If you get thrown out of your raft—”
Ella’s ears started to ring.
“—and you can’t reach it, roll over onto your back, cross your ankles, and float down the river feetfirst. Your life vest will keep you afloat until we can get to you.”
Both hands went numb, and Ella looked down. Her fists were wrapped so tightly around the shaft of the paddle that her knuckles had turned a sick-looking white.
Ella glanced at Coop. He pointed toward her vessel of doom, his eyebrows rose high above his dark sunglasses.
“Everything all right over there?” he yelled.
Releasing her paddle, she gave him the thumbs-up and smiled. No way was she giving him the satisfaction by backing out.
He got out of his raft and waded over to her with a skeptical look.
“I’m good.” She waved him off. “I’ve taught history to teenagers at one of the roughest high schools in New Mexico. I can handle paddling down a river for an hour and a half.”
He leaned in and spoke softly so the other rafters couldn’t hear. “This really is supposed to be for fun.”
“It will be. Just as soon as it’s over,” Ella said dryly.
One of the kids in the raft next to Ella asked his dad impatiently, “When are we starting?” He couldn’t have been more than ten years old, and he glared at Ella. She had a sudden urge to stick her tongue out at him.
“You don’t have to do this, Ella,” Coop said. “You can drag your raft over to the parking lot and be done with it.”
She shook her head. “In front of all these people? No way am I taking the walk of shame.”
He studied her, a hand on his hip. “Then get in,” he finally said. “We’re holding everyone else up.” He waded back to his raft.
She got into her vessel of doom, and Coop paddled over to her. Visibly checking her position, he nodded with a scowl on his face. She couldn’t keep her raft steady.
Stupid way to raise money. Who the hell came up with the idea, anyway? Writing a check would’ve been so much easier. Quicker. Safer.
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