So the only other person on earth who knew the steamy details of their incredible sexcapades was Coop, and he didn’t read erotic romance novels. From what she could tell, Coop didn’t read much at all. A fact she frowned on, until she found out about his dyslexia.
Ella thanked the salesman who had just made a sizeable commission off her, got into her new, paid-for-in-cash four-wheel drive, and headed to the nearest coffee shop.
Life was good.
So why did she feel like a hornet’s nest had just been shaken up inside her stomach?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Ella tried the landline again, but Coop still didn’t pick up. Strange. She told him she’d call when she was on her way with a more accurate ETA. He said he’d keep the handset at the cabin with him, or she could reach him on his cell if he was already in town, but both went straight to voice mail.
Well, Coop wasn’t the greatest at checking messages.
Still. An uncomfortable feeling jabbed at her insides.
Butch and Orland sat at the bar, Dylan working the evening shift. They hadn’t seen or heard from Coop either.
Andy and Hank had joined them, and they all gathered around a table, the ladies discussing the first two chapters of Rio Grande Romp that they had read out loud on the way back to Red River.
“Told you they’d get back together,” Miranda said with a smug laugh.
“They’re not exactly back together. They had sex again, but they’re not back together,” said Brianna.
“They did it in his office on the exam table, with a room full of patients sitting in the waiting room. I’d call that back together,” huffed Miranda.
“I’d call it malpractice,” Hank said. “What kind of doctor would do something like that to one of his patients when he was just supposed to be adjusting her spine?”
Donna snorted. “I’d say he adjusted her, all right. In several places.”
Hank rolled his eyes. “I still don’t understand why you ladies read that trash. Seriously, if a doctor did that kind of thing in real life, he’d lose his license. Maybe even go to jail.”
Ella’s stomach did a flip. Oh, my God. What had she done?
The front door of Joe’s slammed open, and Coop stormed toward them.
Ella froze.
His look of thunder and anger and hatred was directed solely at her, and she knew. She just knew. A deep, jagged pain crawled from her stomach up into her chest and crushed her heart into dust before Coop could even speak the first word. He didn’t have to, because she had already guessed what he was going to say.
“How could you?” Coop stopped short in front of their table, glaring at her as if she were the only person in the cavernous room.
The entire place went quiet, and all heads turned in their direction. The world melted away, and it was just Ella and Coop and his awful stare of contempt. He was so indignant, so scornful, so obviously betrayed, that he wasn’t using his head. His emotions had taken over, and his stare was a little crazed.
“It’s you. You’re Violet Vixen. And you didn’t have the decency to tell me.”
Every woman at the table gasped except Ella. Probably out of disbelief that Coop could accuse her of something so ridiculous, at least in their minds.
“Coop . . .” Ella stood slowly, cautiously.
“You used me for material for your ridiculous books. You knew what it could do to my case, and you did it anyway.”
Ross stood. “Back down, buddy. I think you’re out of line.” Ross’s entire countenance bowed, his fist contracted like he might coldcock Coop.
“Ross, it’s okay,” Ella said without taking her eyes off Coop. Coop needed to blow off some steam, get it off his chest, and she didn’t blame him. But this wasn’t the place, and he’d already said too much.
“Why don’t we go outside, Coop?” Ella asked, her voice cautious.
Coop’s brow wrinkled. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Ella’s not Violet Vixen.” Donna blew out a blustery breath. “What’s wrong with you, Coop?”
“Ask her yourself,” he challenged Donna without his eyes leaving Ella.
All eyes turned toward her.
“It’s true.” She looked at Coop. “Not the part about me using you, but the part about me being Violet Vixen.”
Gasps rounded the table again, and murmurs rippled through Joe’s like a human wave at a major league baseball game.
“You’re Violet Vixen?” Lorenda said, clearly in shock.
“That’s so awesome. My friend is Violet Vixen,” said Brianna, more in awe than anything else.
Miranda whistled. “You really are one bad-ass chick.”
Ella raised a hand to hold her friends at bay. Now wasn’t the time to deal with them and their onslaught of questions. Her first priority, her first concern, was Coop.
“Coop, no one knew.” She tried to find words, but they all seemed shallow. His life, his future, his career was hanging in the balance, and she’d just given incriminating intel to the enemy camp that could send him away for a long time for a crime he didn’t commit.
The erotic scenes in her book had flowed onto the page after the first seductive dance they’d shared at Joe’s. Why had she done it? She’d known it was dangerous, but sex with Coop had been so good. He’d coaxed her out of her shell and made her feel so sensual. She’d acted out a few of her fantasies with him, and tried to live a little dangerously for once in her life.
Her boring and predictable life.
“No one knew? That’s all you have to say for yourself? What about my birthmark, Ella? And the mole under my eye? Every woman I’ve been with will know it’s me once they read that excerpt. Didn’t you think of that?”
“No one knew until now,” Hank murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. “And it seems to me that that’s on you, Coop. I’m not fond of those books, but you’re the one that just announced it to the world.”
Coop looked like he wanted to slug someone. Anyone. The muscle in his jaw clenched and released in cadence. “At the post office you said you didn’t want to be at the mercy of others, but you sure as hell don’t mind me being at yours, do you?”
“No! No, that’s not what I meant.” Ella took a step toward him, but he backed away. “I, I . . . you don’t like needy women, and I didn’t want to chase you away. I didn’t want it to end.” Her voice was an urgent whisper.
“You couldn’t come up with more original material on your own? You had to use me as your sex toy to find new material to write about, since Bradley’s dead?”
That hurt. A small cry caught in Ella’s throat. “Coop, I never did any of those things. Not with anyone but you.”
“Is that why you came to Red River to begin with? To get me to fuck you so you could finish your damn books and make a fortune at my expense?”
Ella’s eyes filled with tears, and all the air rushed from her lungs. “I’m sorry—” She choked on a strangled cry. “I didn’t think anyone would find out.”
“I think that’s just about enough,” Ross said.
Butch walked over to the table. “What’s going on here?”
“Wait.” Donna was still trying to catch up. “You two are sleeping together?”
Lorenda rolled her eyes. “What planet are you on, Donna?”
Coop’s expression turned to repugnance as his eyes stayed locked on to Ella. “Not anymore.” Then he turned to Ross. “She’s all yours, pal. Maybe you can be her muse for book four. She really likes it on the kitchen table.”
Ross took a step toward him, but Butch got between them. He looked at Coop with a deadly stare. “What’s this all about, son?”
Coop looked around the table. Every person there wore a horrified expression.
“Nothing, Dad. I’m done here, done with everyone.” Cooper Wells turned on his heel
and strode out the front door, leaving an ocean of gaping mouths and one heartbroken bestselling author in his wake.
A week later, Ella packed up a few more of her things. She’d allowed herself to get so comfortable at the cabin that her belongings were tucked in drawers and on shelves throughout the place. But most of her things had migrated into Coop’s bedroom.
She sighed and ran a hand over the soft, rumpled quilt on his bed. The one she’d grown so fond of sleeping under while wrapped around him like bark on a tree. She couldn’t remember when his messy habits had stopped annoying her and gave her a sense of comfort and belonging instead. Their clothes, their belongings, had mingled and mixed until they blurred together. His and hers had become theirs.
It would take some effort to sort through every room and gather up her things, so she started in Coop’s bedroom. Maybe it would be easier if she finished with that room first, the room where they’d made so many good memories together. She boxed up everything of hers that she could find, took one last look at the bed they’d so easily and comfortably shared, and closed the door behind her.
In her room, she got down on her hands and knees to search under the bed, just to make sure she didn’t overlook any of her possessions. Until a week ago, she hadn’t slept in there for a while, not since Coop had insisted she move into his room and share his bed every night. There was something under the bed, but she couldn’t see what it was, exactly.
She went looking for something long and slender that could reach that far up under the bed. In the hall closet, she found Coop’s baseball bat and returned to her room to fish out whatever was there. When it finally caught on the end of the bat and she was able to pull it out, she sat back on her feet and choked back fresh tears.
In one hand she held the bat that Coop had used to defend himself the night she arrived. In the other, she clutched the shoe he’d dug out of the muddy ditch she’d gotten stuck in that first night. It was clean now, and she tossed it into a suitcase.
She wandered down the hall and returned the bat to its home in the closet.
Coop hadn’t come back to the cabin since that day at Joe’s. Instead, he sent Cal to pack a few clothes for him. Cal tried to make excuses for his older brother, but Ella told him it was okay. She was fine. Cal left with an apology.
The worst part was Winston. Okay, maybe not the worst, worst part, but Winston had been a slobbering sad sack since Coop left and took Atlas with him. I guess Coop was tired of both him and his dog being sex objects.
Ella found Winston moping in a corner on top of Atlas’s favorite squeaky toy. She bent down to scratch him behind the ears. “I know how you feel, buddy.” Winston gave a pathetic whine. “You’ll just have to find another companion. Maybe a cute Great Dane next time.” She chuckled, but Winston just stared wistfully at the wall.
A knock sounded at the door, and Ella left the packing for later.
“Hi.” She let Lorenda in. “What’s up?”
“I was elected to see how our favorite author is doing,” Lorenda said.
Ella’s brow arched.
“Okay, I told the other gals to stay away. They’re not exactly the most tactful bunch of ladies I’ve ever known, and I didn’t want you to get upset.”
Ella’s brow rose higher.
“Okay, more upset. They’re really worried about you, and they sent comfort food.” She held up a sack from the Red River Market and unloaded two pints of Blue Bell on the counter, along with plastic spoons and napkins.
“What flavor do you want?” asked Lorenda.
“Cookies ’n Cream. Is there any other?”
Lorenda took the lids off, shoved a spoon in each one, and handed Ella a container. “Cheers.” They bumped pints.
“I’m doing fine. Really.” So not doing fine. “Do you know how Coop’s doing? He won’t answer my calls.”
“He’s kept a low profile. Miranda’s seen him at work, of course, but everybody’s giving him a wide berth. He’s not saying much. He mostly just stews quietly.”
Ella sighed. “Well, I’m almost done packing, so I can leave any day now.” Ella scooped a chunk of ice cream into her mouth and talked with her mouth full. What the heck? She was guilty of much worse than talking with her mouth full and wallowing in self-pity.
“You sure you have to go?” Lorenda asked. “I mean, maybe you should stay until you and Coop can settle things.”
Ella shrugged. “In case you didn’t notice at Joe’s, Coop settled things right there.”
“He’s just angry because he cares about you. People lash out when they’re hurt. Maybe he’ll listen when he cools down.”
Ella shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, can you blame him? I’ve probably ruined his life.”
“People make mistakes, Ella. He’s certainly made his, and you didn’t hold it against him.”
No. No, she didn’t, and she could have. But still . . .
Lorenda shrugged, snagging another bite of ice cream. “Well, he didn’t seem to mind all the great sex until he read it in print.”
“I doubt he thought our sex life would end up in a book for the world to see.” She looked at the ice cream label. “Yum, this is good. You’re my new BFF. Anyone thoughtful enough to bring me Cookies ’n Cream after a public humiliation is a friendship forged in blood. Like when guys in the movies slice their palms with a knife and then shake on it.”
“You said you’re sorry,” Lorenda said.
And Ella really was sorry. The regret gnawed her to the bone.
“You may be right, but it takes two to work things out. He’s made it clear that he doesn’t want to accept my apology.”
“I know it might not be what you want to hear right now, because you clearly have feelings for him, but you obviously didn’t give a second thought to the accusations against him. If he can’t find it in his heart to at least listen to you, then maybe you’re better off,” said Lorenda.
Ella inhaled deeply. “It’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have written our intimate details into a book without him knowing. Plus, I knew getting involved with him was probably a dead-end road, but for the first time in my life, I wanted to live on the edge. Take a risk, throw caution to the wind and experience life going Mach five with my hair on fire. I rolled the dice and I lost. Now I’ve got to move on. It’s what I came here to do anyway. It’s just going to be a little harder now. I wanted closure with this cabin, and now I have it, just not in the way I thought.”
“Any idea where you’re going?”
Ella shook her head. “Not permanently. I promised my family I’d come home for a visit, so I think I’ll drive to East Texas and stay there for a few weeks. Maybe a month.” She laughed. “It might take that long to smooth things over with my Southern Baptist family now that they know about my new profession.” She shrugged. “After that, I don’t know where I’ll end up. My editor wants me to move to California because there’s been some chatter about turning the books into screenplays. She says LA is the perfect place for me right now, but I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.”
Ella shoveled another bite into her mouth. “Where do they make this stuff?” She held up her pint. “Maybe I’ll move there. That would be convenient.”
“Well, we’re planning a going-away party for you at Joe’s Saturday night.”
Ella smiled. “Awww, you guys are so sweet. Thanks, but I’m not really in much of a party mood.”
Lorenda tried to cheer her up. “Well now, that’s the point of the party. You will be afterward, and just so you know, we asked Joe to give Coop that night off. We’re trying to keep our plans quiet.”
Ella cocked a brow in you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me disbelief. “Good luck with that. You think you can keep it quiet in this town?”
“We’re giving it a shot.” Lorenda shrugged. “And, we’re looking out for Coop, too. Ross might do him bodily harm i
f he talks to you again the way he did at Joe’s the other day.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. I don’t think Coop will come within a thousand yards of any place if he knows I’m there.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Coop wiped down the bar and frowned as two Red River residents walked past him with curious looks and knowing smiles on their way to find a table. Those looks had become the norm since Ella had turned him into a walking freak show in her latest book. The excitement of having a local celebrity in their midst had stirred the town into a buzz of energy. The word had spread like a raging forest fire, and it had even made it into several national magazines. In his rage, he’d blown Ella’s cover, and probably ruined himself in the process.
Maybe he’d been a little cruel, his words a little over-the-top when he confronted Ella the other day. But no one could imagine the shock that coursed through him when he’d gotten to the last quarter of Rio Grande Romp and the familiarity of those chapters started to sink in. When he’d finished the novel and read the excerpt for book four, Coop had nearly choked.
He’d dropped his new e-reader on the floor, fumbled for it, and flipped back through some of the pages he’d just read. After rereading the excerpt, there was no mistaking whom the author was, but he still couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Until he sat in stunned silence, staring down at the backlit text and the author’s bio. All the pieces fell into place.
Of course. The author was from New Mexico and lived with an English bulldog. No mention of a husband, because Bradley was gone. Had Bradley known? Coop couldn’t imagine that he did.
He thought back to the day at the post office. An envelope from Wanton Publishing had come for her, the same publisher as the books. Probably a royalty check. Judas money. When she’d tucked it under her arm, it should’ve chinked like thirty pieces of silver.
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