by Donna Alward
She nodded. “The store takes up most of my time.”
“The flowers Cooper bought for my birthday were lovely. How’d you like the cookies?”
“Cookies?” Molly asked.
“Cooper got me to whip up a special batch,” Jean confided. “Peanut butter chocolate chip. He hasn’t asked for those in years, and I remembered they were Melissa’s favorites.” She looked at her with a twinkle in her eye. “Did you share?”
Melissa didn’t quite know what to say. It would probably be best to make a joke out of it, dispel any matchmaking inklings Molly and Jean might come up with if they put their heads together. Mel and Coop were both single, and in a town this size, pairing people up was a popular pastime. “Of course I didn’t share. I made Coop eat crow pie.”
Molly and Jean laughed. “Good girl. Coop needs someone to keep him on his toes.”
“Oh, it’s definitely not like that.”
“Too bad,” Jean observed. “I always liked having you around.” She put a hand on Mel’s shoulder. “I know you and Coop had a blowup when you and Scott split. I hope you’ve worked it out now. You were always such good friends. He needs that.”
So Jean didn’t know what had caused their rift? Interesting.
“The past is in the past,” Mel said, trying to sound breezy. “Sometimes you have to stand on your own two feet and get on with it, you know?”
“Atta girl,” Molly praised.
“I just wish Coop would get on with settling down. I could use a grandbaby or two of my own to spoil.”
Someone started clanging a triangle, calling everyone to dinner, which was convenient, since Mel’s palm had absently strayed to her flat tummy at Jean’s words. She’d never been mad at Jean, and in fact she’d missed Coop’s parents almost as much as she’d missed him.
If she was pregnant, it might be nice to have someone like Jean to give her baby cuddles. She rather hoped her own parents would fill that role, but last spring she’d let them in on her plans and they’d expressed dismay rather than support. Like most people, they thought she should just wait, maybe see if she was going to get married again.
Things had been tense in their relationship ever since. Normally they’d be front and center at an event like this, but since taking early retirement a few months before, the Stones were on a long-overdue vacation. New England in the fall. There’d only been one email since their departure, letting Melissa know they’d arrived safely. No updates or pictures sent. She didn’t much like being out of favor with them, but she had a right to make her own decisions.
For the next half hour, the throng settled in lawn chairs and on steps to eat the tender beef, succulent roast pork, baked beans, fresh rolls and coleslaw. It got dark, and patio lanterns were turned on and the bonfire lit. When the main meal was over, everyone wandered into the garage for dessert and a cup of coffee that was brewing in the big urns borrowed from the church. Mel left the coffee alone, but wasn’t so disciplined when it came to dessert. She helped herself to a small piece of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, a sliver of apple pie and a piece of something that could only be described as a mound of dark chocolate sin. There were at least a dozen other gorgeous-looking desserts, but she had only so much room.
She found a quiet corner where she could stand back and watch. Now that the fire had burned awhile, she saw Coop and Sam Diamond set up the kids with sticks and marshmallows for roasting. The stereo was turned off when someone got out a guitar and started taking requests. She sighed, letting the day’s fatigue and her full belly lull her into a mellow state of mind. She loved Cadence Creek. Always had. She’d never lived anywhere else nor did she want to. Maybe that was why the acceptance was so important.
When her marriage had hit the skids, there’d been a lot of long faces and sympathy to go around. On one level it had driven her bonkers—both the continual “so sorry” sentiments and the knowledge that she was gossip fodder. But on another, it had felt good knowing people cared. And they’d certainly supported her business when she’d opened her doors short months later.
A cramp slid across her belly. Boy, she’d overdone it with the cake, hadn’t she? That and beans and so much meat were bound to give her some indigestion. She frowned. Except it didn’t feel like indigestion. It felt heavy and...
She swallowed. She knew that feeling. Not now. Not here. Dammit, not again.
With a wooden smile, she made her way through the garage and into the house. She knew exactly where the half bath was, and made a beeline for it, clutching her purse handle with tight fingers.
And when she saw that she’d been right—not indigestion at all—she fought to keep from crying. She’d wanted this time to be the one, so very badly. She’d been so sure. But wanting something desperately did not make it so, and for a second she bit down on her lip as two hot tears slid out of the corners of her eyes.
She brushed them away immediately. She had to go back out there. People were going to see her. She did not want them to notice red eyes and blotchy cheeks and a wobbly lip. A wobbly lip that quivered despite her best attempts to stop it...
She gasped, bracing her hands on the edge of the sink, trying to catch her breath as the truth settled, hard and uncompromising. She’d let herself hope again. She’d done everything right—paid the money, had the procedure, watched what she ate and drank and how much she slept, how much she lifted at the store, and still...
Words scrolled across her brain like a profane ticker tape of frustration.
At the same time, her heart was breaking. She only wanted this one thing. Hadn’t she earned it? She’d been hurt and humiliated and abandoned, and she’d picked herself up, brushed herself off, and got on with it. She’d planned everything so carefully, so why wasn’t it working?
Melissa jumped as a knock sounded on the door. “Anyone in there?”
She inhaled and straightened. “Be right out!” she called with false brightness, then turned on the water in the sink.
She dried her hands, pressed them to her face and willed herself to hold it together.
Clara Diamond was on the other side of the door—pregnant, beautiful Clara Diamond with glowing, rosy cheeks. “Oh, hi, Melissa,” she chirped. “Sorry to rush you. My bladder seems to hold only a teaspoon right now.”
The words stabbed into her. She smiled. “It’s all yours,” she said, making her way to the garage door, down the aisle between the tables and straight out the driveway to the parked cars. She loved Clara, she really did, but seeing her at that precise moment was salt in the wound, and it stung.
Mel held it all in, every last bit of emotion, until she was past the crowd and flanked only by the shadows of parked vehicles. As soon as she was certain no one would hear her, she tried gulping in some air. The air went in just fine, but shocked her when it came out on a sob. She frantically tried to reel it back in, but it was too late. First there was one, then another, and the next thing she knew she was stumbling her way to her car, hiccuping and half crying.
“Mel!”
Oh crap. She knew that voice. It was the voice of a man who suddenly couldn’t seem to let well enough alone, and he was the last person she wanted to talk to right now. She shoved her hand into her purse, desperately searching for keys. She could get inside her car and lock the door. He wouldn’t see her face then. She hooked her finger on the key ring. She could hear his boots on the dirt and he called her name again. “Mel! What’s going on?”
She scrambled to hit the button to unlock the doors—and dropped the keys.
She was not going to be able to hold herself together for very long.
There was no light this far from the house and she crouched, frantically feeling for her key ring. It was too late. Cooper reached her and knelt down. “Mel, what’s wrong?”
“I dropped my keys.” She tried to sound normal, but her
voice was thick.
“That’s not what’s wrong. You were running and crying. What the hell happened?”
A spurt of anger rushed through her. “Oh, what do you care, Cooper Ford?”
“I care,” he said simply.
She found the keys and stood up, though her fingers shook. “You don’t have a right to care!”
It felt good to be angry. To lash out. She had a sinking feeling that it wasn’t really Cooper she was mad at, but it didn’t matter. He made a great target.
He gave an impatient sound. “News flash, Melissa. You don’t, and have never had, the right to tell me who I can or can’t care about! So if I want to care, I’ll damn well care, all right?”
She stared at him in stunned silence for a breath.
And then completely embarrassed herself by bursting into tears and throwing herself into his arms.
CHAPTER FIVE
MELISSA CAME BARRELING at his chest, forcing Coop to take a step backward as his arms instinctively came around her.
He hadn’t meant to yell at her. He especially hadn’t meant to make her cry, or at least cry more than she already had been. His throat tightened. She was in all-out sobbing mode now. Thank goodness they were sheltered from any light from the fire, and far enough away that no one would hear. He knew Mel well enough to know that she would want to keep a meltdown private. What he didn’t understand was what had set her off in the first place.
Her sweater was bulky and the crazy scarf she wore tangled with her hair. Cooper pressed his hand to the back of her head and, unsure of what else to say, murmured, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, Mel, it’ll be fine.”
“It won’t be fine,” she replied, half wailing. “You don’t know, Coop! It hasn’t been fine for three years now!”
Three years. Ever since Scott left. Cooper had figured that as the months passed he’d be less angry about it. But seeing how it tore Mel apart—after all this time—brought those feelings back again. She had deserved so much better. The fact that she still seemed to carry a torch for the guy made Coop want to hit something.
But he kept a lid on it, forcing gentleness into his voice. “What don’t I know?”
“You don’t know anything!”
Coop figured the best thing to do now was let her cry and get it out of her system. He’d seen her upset before; they’d known each other for two decades, after all. And he’d seen her angry. Angry at him. Definitely angry at Scott. But even in the anger there’d been an underlying layer of hurt. She’d been betrayed. And she’d loved Scott. Coop knew that without a doubt.
“I don’t know anything,” he confirmed softly, holding her close, his heart contracting at the sad sounds muffled against his coat. Knowing she was hurting so much only made him feel worse about himself. He’d always been the sort of guy whose creed was that honesty was the best policy even when it meant taking your lumps. He hadn’t been honest with her. He’d hidden the truth from his best friend for the very worst of reasons: to protect himself.
He didn’t like what that said about the kind of man he’d become. Hadn’t Scott done the exact same thing? Lied to cover his own butt? Coop was no better than Scott had been in the end.
“You don’t know,” she continued. “All our plans. My plans.” She hiccuped a sob. “And I’ve tried so hard to do it all alone, but this one thing...I keep failing and it hurts. Oh, it hurts, Coop.”
He just held her tighter.
Finally, he pulled back a little, keeping his hands on her upper arms. “Let me take you home. I don’t want you driving like this.”
“I’m fine....”
He cursed. “You are not fine. You’re not even in the same postal code as fine. You’re tired and upset. Give me your keys, Mel.”
“What will you do? You can’t walk home....”
He was relieved she was capitulating. “I’ve got my cell. I’ll call Mom or Dad. One of them will come get me in the truck.”
“And have them know what just happened? No, thank you. I promise I’m fine to drive.”
My, she was obstinate. “And I say you’re not. Look at you. You’re shaking.”
She slid the keys into his palm. “You’re so stubborn.”
He tried to smile. Yeah, weren’t they just peas in a pod? “Glad you remember.”
He held the door for her and she slid into the passenger seat. As he got behind the wheel, he found his knees pressed against it. He reached for the lever to adjust the seat, mercifully sliding it back into a more comfortable position. Her compact was so much smaller than his truck, but it was economical and suited her purposes, didn’t it? He turned the car around and stopped only briefly at the corner where the driveway met the road.
“You want to tell me what’s got you so upset?” he asked quietly. “You kind of lost it back there.”
“It’s nothing.”
He looked over. She was staring out the window, her jaw set in a mulish way he recognized. “I think we both know that you crying in my arms is not nothing.”
She sighed, a tremulous sound that proved to him she wasn’t quite put back together yet.
“If I tell you, you’ll either laugh or tell me I’m crazy, and I’d rather save myself the trouble.”
He slowed down as they entered the main part of town. “I promise I won’t laugh or tell you you’re crazy.”
When Mel still didn’t spill, Coop tightened his grip on the steering wheel. More and more he’d been wondering about her feelings for Scott. He’d hoped she didn’t still love him. She needed to get over him and move on, with someone who would treat her right.
His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Someone like him?
Right. He’d blown that chance twice already.
In a matter of seconds they were pulling up in front of her house. He turned into the driveway and killed the engine. Still Mel said nothing. She simply gathered up her purse and opened her door.
With a put-upon sigh, Coop got out, too. If she wasn’t going to say anything, he’d call his dad and get him to bring the truck. He was just reaching into his pocket when the motion light at her front steps came on, illuminating her face.
Her lower lip was still wobbling. Just a little, but he got the feeling that she’d step inside her house, shut the door and start crying again.
He should let her go, and not get in the middle of whatever it was that had her so upset. One minute she’d been fine at the party, and the next...had someone said something to her? And then there was the knowledge that he’d failed her once before when she was in trouble. If she needed help, he couldn’t walk away again.
“Mel...” He reached out and took her hand. It was meant to be a gesture of consolation, of comfort. But the moment he felt her soft skin against his, the familiar feelings kicked in.
He knew he shouldn’t, but it tore him up to see her so upset. When she lifted her gaze to his, for a split second it felt as if all the oxygen had left his body. Moisture clung to her lower lashes. Her hair curled around her face, so similar to how it used to when they were teenagers and he’d longed to tell her how he felt, only he couldn’t, because she was Scott’s girl.
He’d waited long enough to find out, hadn’t he? Over ten long, torturous years.
Before she could respond, he leaned forward and kissed her.
There was a brief moment of surprise when she froze beneath him and his lips hovered, barely touching hers. And then she moved her mouth, the tiniest little nibble on his lower lip, shyly inviting him in.
His whole body vibrated as he forced himself to go slowly, slowly. He still held her hand, but his right arm went around her waist, pulling her closer until her soft sweater was pressed against his fleece. He angled his head a little and gave a small nudge, urging her to open her mouth wider. Oh God—she tasted like chocolate
and spice and woman. So much better than he’d ever dreamed.
“Mel,” he whispered, awed. “Mel.”
A little of the fragile control he held snapped, and he kissed her again, more urgently this time. Her arms slipped around his neck and she made a little sound in her throat, the soft vibration of it rippling through his entire body. Her front door was just behind them, and he reached for her hips, settling her against the painted steel, pressing his body closer to hers.
He slid his lips off her mouth and tasted the skin where the graceful column of her neck met her ear. Her pelvis rubbed against his and he started to lose his ability to be rational.
* * *
Panic threaded its way through Mel’s veins. This couldn’t be happening. For heaven’s sake, she’d given up hoping for anything physical with Coop when she was sixteen. She’d fallen for Scott. There’d never been any...anything between her and Coop after that. She’d outgrown her crush, right?
Clearly not, because he was sliding his tongue down her neck and she loved every second of it. And this could not happen. It could not.
“Stop. Coop...please stop.”
Slowly he relaxed his body, putting a few inches between them. The column of her neck was cool where the air touched the damp skin. The sound of their heavy breathing was loud in the dark silence. “Oh my God,” she whispered. On top of everything else that had scrambled her emotions today, necking with Coop only made matters worse. “We’re standing right in the middle of the light. How could you do this?” She turned her head and scanned the neighbors’ yards. Had anyone seen?
Her body was still humming from the feel of him pressed against her, and when she challenged him with her eyes, he glared back. With a grunt of frustration, he tugged on her wrist and pulled her away from the door and the circle of light.
“What the hell is going on with you?” he demanded. “First you throw yourself in my arms, then you won’t say a thing. Then you wrap your arms around my neck and kiss me, and then accuse me of...what are you accusing me of again? Mel, make up your damned mind!”
