Faithful

by S. A. Wolfe

  “Oh, no. I’m still doing the bead designs,” she says, holding up a fistful of colored markers. “I want all the design sheets done by tomorrow so we can start filling the trays. That’s going to take fucking forever.”

  “Then let’s make some less elaborate necklaces.”

  “No, Sasha’s likes our big three-tiered ones with the showy lockets and the drop pearls. If you can get some jet pieces, do. I’d love to put some Edwardian beads into these new designs.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I sigh, thinking of the cost, even at estate sales where they are highly motivated to negotiate a price down.

  Lauren pauses in her work and regards me for a moment. “You look different. Nice.”

  “Didn’t I look nice at Yadi’s party?”

  “Yes, but today you look better, more relaxed or carefree. Something is different, and it kind of lights up your face.”

  That’s because a Viking reminded me what it’s like to have worn out, bruised lips from a passionate kiss. I admit, the irony of the situation has made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. I did not expect it to come in the way of Cooper Mackenzie.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about. This is nothing special. Archie started this whole thing by telling us about the estate sale and mentioning the jewelry, so we’re going to check it out. That’s all this is.”

  “Okay,” she replies softly and smiles as though she doesn’t want to set me off on one of my unflattering Cooper rants. I can’t blame her there.

  “Okay, then, so I’m going to go get our very cold credit card out of the freezer,” I say, checking the time on my phone. “And I’m going to meet him out front. He said he’s always on time.”

  “He is.” Lauren nods her head. “He’s very punctual. And tidy. Very tidy for a guy.”

  “Now you’re being weird. I’m going.”

  “All right, but don’t kick Cooper in the balls, it wouldn’t make for a good date. Have fun. He’s a nice guy.”

  “It’s not a date. Cooper insisted on taking me to this because he wants our business to do well. He’s doing this for you because you’re his friend … and Leo is his best friend.”

  “All righty. If you say so.” She smiles and quickly goes back to her various drawings.

  I huff and leave her to her work. I don’t want to discuss this new wrinkle in my stay-away-from-Cooper plan.

  I retrieve the frigid credit card from the freezer, grab my purse, and head out the front door in time to see Cooper arriving. He comes up the dirt driveway, straddling his hog with the whole package: sunglasses, black helmet, faded jeans, and a white T-shirt. On top of that, he’s got a sexy, wide smile. What woman wouldn’t want this man picking her up for a … a friendly shopping excursion?

  Seven

  Cooper gets off his Harley in one sleek motion of grace and power and hands me an extra helmet from the back of the bike.

  “So, you don’t mind riding on my bike?” he asks, lifting his shades and studying me from head to toe before settling on my face.

  He’s noticed that I don’t resemble the French fry girl from earlier. My ponytail is gone, and my hair has been freshly washed and styled in long, loose waves. My skinny jeans show off my nice ankles, the only part of me that never gains weight, and I’m wearing my ballerina flats which are more flattering than the black running shoes I wear at work. And, yes, I have highlighted my eyes with liner and eye shadow and worked some magic on my chapped lips. No cleavage, but from Cooper’s reaction, I’ve managed to transform the pissy waitress into a more pleasant, feminine version of that chick.

  “Why would I mind riding on your bike?” I ask, strapping the helmet on.

  “Some women get nervous on my … on these things. They’re loud and …”

  “Pfft! Your bike is the only reason I agreed to go with you to this auction.”

  Cooper smiles. “I told you to be ready, but I don’t think you ever agreed.”

  “Well, I’m ready, so let’s go before I change my mind.”

  Once Cooper swings his leg back on his bike, he revs it up for show. “Hop on and hold on tight, baby.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I say as I slip on my sunglasses.

  He chuckles seductively, and just for that, I wrap my arms around him extra tight. Although, instead of holding his waist, I have one arm across his stomach and the other across his chest. It’s sort of an erotic stranglehold.

  Sometimes, I like to call guys on their flirty behavior, and for the most part, they’re generally surprised. Cooper’s no exception. I feel him startle under my groping hands, and then he exhales slowly as if to calm himself.

  When we hit the county road at top speed, I lean as close as I can to his ear. “Oooh, I’m so scared!” I shout into the wind then feel Cooper’s booming laugh under my hands as every hard muscle vibrates.

  It takes us a good forty minutes to find the stately home outside of Woodstock. Whoever lived here had money; the Victorian house and immaculate grounds have been well preserved.

  I let go of Cooper’s warm body and swing myself off the bike, which is not easy to do in snug, skinny jeans. My legs still feel hot and wobbly from the reverberations of the bike; as a result, I do a full-length stretch and arch as I take in the surroundings of the home; the landscaping; and all the cars that are parked in the large, semi-circle driveway. As I stand up again, Cooper is suddenly in front of me, gently removing my sunglasses. It’s a completely innocent, helpful gesture, but as his fingers graze my face, my eyes pause a little too long on his.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks in a low voice.

  “The ride was fine,” I reply, my gaze going from his eyes to his lips. I must have a dazed expression because Cooper begins unfastening my helmet.

  “Let me get this for you.” His voice draws my attention back to his beautiful eyes.

  Of course, everything about him is gorgeous in the setting sun on a glorious spring day. This guy’s assets shine: the tousled hair; the sun-kissed skin; the tall, hard body that apparently I’ve already had the opportunity of climbing.

  After he takes the helmet off me, I’m about to reach up and run my fingers through my hair to fluff it when I see that tenacious look in his eyes. He’s going to kiss me again.

  “No, we …” I’m cut off by his lips that lightly graze my own.

  “Yes, we can,” he mumbles and pushes into my eager mouth. His hand wraps around the back of my neck as he kisses me thoroughly until I’m well acquainted with his tongue … again.

  When he pulls back and studies my sated expression, his mouth curves with satisfaction.

  “See? We can do that. We do it very well.”

  “Cooper, we’re starting to become friends. I think. I don’t want to be the kind of friends that screw around with each other, though. I have no interest in that.”

  He sighs, annoyed. “I never said I wanted to be friends with benefits.”

  “Okay … good. Then we’re on the same page,” I add, nodding my head. “And I have something for you.”

  When I open my small wristlet purse and pull a wad of cash out, Cooper’s expression visibly darkens. “It’s your cash. I can’t keep your tip, and I can’t sell my friend a necklace at my retail prices. I can’t take your money because it makes me feel like a failure.”

  Cooper is silent as he looks at the cash I’m holding out to him. He’s not making a move to take it; therefore, I grab his hand and put it in his palm. It’s a replay of what happened earlier in the day, and at the time, Cooper was more generous, maybe a little miffed yet laughing about it. However, now he appears to be quite pissed off.

  “If we’re really friends as you put it, then this wouldn’t be a problem because friends help friends.”

  “I gave you the necklace at cost because, when friends start loaning or giving cash to other friends, it becomes weird and uncomfortable. I am very uncomfortable with this,” I explain.

>   “Then it appears we have a serious fucking problem with our friendship,” he punctuates with disgust.

  “Please, keep the money this time. Lauren and I are handling the business, and we have Archie coming onboard. I can do this without taking money from you, but I really appreciate—”

  “When you started the business, you accepted money from Carson, right?” he says, cutting me off in a clipped tone.

  “Ah …” Boy, this is not what I wanted. We went from fun, social banter and a few stolen kisses to accusations and hurt feelings.

  “Lauren told me,” he explains. “So, you don’t have a problem accepting money from your friend Carson.”

  “That’s different. It was a small loan, and he’s practically my brother,” I say in my defense. “It’s not weird between us.”

  “Okay, so it’s me.” He steps closer and blocks out the remaining sunlight as he towers above me, observing my silence. “I have my answer,” he says as he removes his wallet from his back pocket and puts the bills in it.

  “What answer?”

  “Accepting money or help from me is awkward for you because I’m a different kind of friend to you. I’m the friend you’re actually interested in.”

  I scoff while I think of a clever comeback, but words evade me because this guy is on to something I have not been willing to admit to anyone else. I am attracted to him, although he’s another distraction from what I’m supposed to be doing—working hard at running a business.

  “A few kisses doesn’t mean I want more than that. We’re friends,” I reiterate, as if it makes it truer.

  “Yeah.” He puts his arm around my shoulders and guides me towards the house. “Let’s go buy stuff, friend.”

  While Cooper gets lost in the living room where the military artifacts are on display, I head into the enormous dining room where the jewelry is being sold. The expensive pieces include diamonds that are encased in locked table vaults and being sold as individual pieces. The less expensive, antique jewelry is showcased on velvet trays and being sold off in numbered lots.

  I walk around every table, studying the stunning jewelry which even includes some broken or incomplete necklaces and earrings from the Georgian, Victorian, and Edwardian time periods. This is exactly what Lauren and I look for—vintage jewelry we can disassemble and repurpose into our own designs.

  “Hey, look what I got,” Cooper says from behind me.

  I turn around to see him brandishing a large sword. Now he really does look like a Viking, and he’s got the attention of every woman in the room.

  “Oh, God, not you, too. What is with you men and weapons?”

  “This thing is so cool,” he says as he puts an arm behind his back and swings the blade upward, ready to duel.

  “Stop it. You’re going to get us kicked out of here,” I whisper loudly to him.

  “I don’t think so. I’m advertising their products. Besides, I dropped a nice little bundle on this beauty.”

  “You bought it?”

  “Hell, yeah.” He smiles, looking pretty proud of his acquisition.

  “What are you going to do with that?” I ask, imagining him cruising around town on his bike with a swashbuckling sword strapped to his side. Oh, good grief. I have to stop thinking of him like that.

  “The blade is completely dull and useless, but it’ll be nice for party tricks.”

  “Perfect.”

  “What did you find?” he asks, sheathing the sword and stepping forward to look at the table I’ve been salivating over.

  “Everything here is fantastic. They have the jewelry set up by the period it’s from. The family that lived here collected some incredible pieces.”

  I feel Cooper’s warmth as he presses against my side to view the velvet tray in front of me.

  “Lauren wants me to get the jet jewelry. Those are these black, Edwardian beaded pieces in this lot. I really want the Victorian silver lockets over there. They’re similar to what you bought for your sister.”

  “Great, let’s buy all these boxes,” he says, and one of the middle-aged auction women standing behind the table gets a little giddy, either over the idea that she thinks he’s buying the whole table or that she has a smoking hot guy standing two feet from her. I’m betting it’s the hottie factor.

  “Are you cuckoo for Coco Puffs? Each one of these trays is anywhere from six hundred to three grand. You’re not buying anything for me, and I’m only buying one lot because that’s what Lauren and I agreed on.”

  Cooper looks at the auction attendant, nods his head to the side towards me, and rolls his eyes, causing her to give him a little laugh. He’s very practiced at winning the female population over, so I smack his side to make him stop.

  He leans down to whisper in my ear. “If you do things like that, people will think we’re more than friends.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.” After I push his face away from my cheek and inform the woman which tray I want, she hands me the lot number and purchase card.

  “I’m going to go pay for my goodies,” I tell Cooper. “Be right back.”

  Heading into the foyer where they have cashiers set up, I turn over my lot number and credit card. After they ring me up and give me a receipt, I return to the dining room to collect my purchase. Cooper is talking up the auction attendant and has her in stitches over something. That kcuffing charmer.

  After I hand her my receipt, she turns over my packaged items to Cooper! I immediately take the bag from him. “I’m ready to go. Lauren will be excited to see this.”

  “Are you sure? There’s more here, and I know you love this stuff.” He sounds so thoughtful and concerned. I have to glance away when a blond lock falls forward, and he has that adorable questioning look along with the ridiculousness of a ginormous sword at his side.

  “I’m sure. I’ve spent my max. And how are we getting that thing home?” I ask, pointing to his sword.

  “They’re holding it for me. After I drop you off, I’m going to bring Leo’s truck back to pick it up. The auction will still be open.”

  “Okay, so can we go?” I shrug.

  “Whatever you want,” he says as his hand rests on my lower back and he turns me away from the table. At that moment, I catch him give a quick wink and smile to the woman who just helped me.

  “What the hell was that wink for?” I ask as we leave the lovely home. “Did you hit on her?”

  Cooper laughs. “No, I was just being friendly since she was so friendly in assisting us.”

  “You mean assisting me. Man, you sure are friendly.” I overemphasize the word with a deep, snarky punch. “You should take over my shifts at the diner, what’s left of them. The customers would love you.”

  “Imogene, I’m teasing you. Sometimes I like getting a rise out of you. You’re sexy and lethal,” he says and hands me my helmet.

  The ride back is easier. I feel less tense about our situation. I think I clarified the friend set-up fairly well, and I bought some vintage jewels without completely stressing myself out. Having Cooper along to reassure me and to lighten the mood definitely made it easier. Being all cozy and warm, snuggled up to him on the Harley didn’t hurt, either. Unfortunately, those are the kinds of things that blur the friendship lines, and I’m notorious for blurring things, so much so I’m practically blind.

  When we return to my house, Leo walks out onto the porch and tosses his truck keys to Cooper.

  “How did he know you needed the truck?” I ask, attaching my helmet to the back of his bike.

  “I called him while you were paying for your stuff.” He takes off his leather bike gloves and then pulls my jewelry bag from the satchel.

  “Good thinking.”

  “Are you happier?” he asks as he hands me my bag.

  With it being kind of a loaded question, I don’t know how to respond. I begin running the scenarios of the past few days through my head: my behavior with Cooper; divulging my concerns about
the business; potentially quitting my most reliable source of income; defining boundaries for an emerging friendship between us; and then, naturally, dwelling on those hot and heavy kisses that negate all my previous arguments I thought were so rational.

  “I love this,” I finally respond, waving the bag. “Thanks for insisting I go, and thanks for taking me. I had a really good time.”

  “I know you did. It’s written all over your face. And I had a great time, too. So when’s our next date?”

  After all that, I laugh. “It wasn’t a date. You’re something else.”

  “I’m something you like. Remember, I’m very good at reading people. My former job used to depend on it.”

  “Even so, it wasn’t a date.”

  “Call it what you want,” Cooper says with a shrug. “So when are we going out again as friends?”

  He is tenacious and I’m flattered, but I can totally envision a relationship with Cooper as the kind that ignites in a lusty frenzy and burns out just as quickly. As such, he’s probably not a wanker, but the thought of having a potentially destructive fling with a guy who is part of my circle of friends is enough for me to keep him at arm’s length. Apparently, however, that arm is very short if I keep kissing him. Yes, that’s a problem.

  “Lauren and I have to buckle down and really get to work on some necklaces that a store will purchase if we meet their deadline. So I don’t really have time for any social outings. With anyone,” I emphasize.

  Cooper glances at Leo’s truck as though he’s ready to bolt without another word.

  “Hey, Coop!” Leo returns and suddenly shouts from the porch. “Wait up!”

  Leo runs down the steps and jogs over to us.

  “Is something wrong?” Cooper asks.

  “No, I need to talk to you, so I thought I’d take you to get your sword thing.”

  “Okay,” Cooper replies with that shrug again. He then looks down at me with an indecipherable expression.

  “I’ll see you around. I’m going to get some work done,” I say joyfully in a rehearsed manner. That’s not like me, making me fully expect my phoniness to cause a little fire and brimstone action; perhaps my hair will start smoking or my head will turn into a swarm of hissing snakes.