by Lori Foster
Because this was serious, he moved his hand to her shoulder, making it easier for him to concentrate. “I never want you afraid, not of me.”
“Intimidated,” she stressed. “Not afraid.”
Knowing the distinction was important to her, he nodded. “And since then?”
She slowly smiled, reaching up to touch his chest, her fingertips first lightly stroking before she flattened her palm over his heart. “I’ve been very, very curious.”
Coop held himself still. Her hand was small, wet and cold from being in the creek, and the simple touch sent tension spiraling through him. “About?”
Again she looked away—but her hand remained firm against him. “I’ve wondered about your life, why you moved to the resort.” Her gaze flickered back to his. “About your wife and how she passed.”
Automatically, he shook his head. He couldn’t discuss it, not now, maybe not ever.
“I think you must have loved her a lot.” Pale blue eyes searched his. “She was beautiful, and she had a gentle smile.”
Closing his eyes, shutting out her tender sympathy, he warned, “Phoenix—”
She half sat up, her hand gliding up to the back of his neck, the chill of her palm a shock against his sun-heated skin. “I’m not trying to pry. You asked and I answered. That’s what I’m curious about.”
“Not sex?” Even as he asked it, he felt like a coldhearted bastard.
But she grinned. “Oh, definitely that, too.” Her fingers stroked the nape of his neck. “That most of all, actually.”
He was contemplating ways to take her, how to make it work here, right here, when the baying started. They both looked up, searching for the source of the awful sound.
Laughter carried through the trees, followed by another pitiful cry.
Coop scowled, starting to stand, but Phoenix beat him to it. She was on her feet in an instant, trudging barefoot along the stream, going from rock to rock at a precariously fast pace.
He jogged after her.
They both spotted the dog on the trestle at the same time.
Some asshole was there, threatening it, laughing at its terror.
Phoenix stiffened on a sharp inhale, one hand covering her mouth. “Oh, my God.”
She whispered the words, so faint that Coop barely heard them.
But the man must have heard their splashing approach because he moved to the side of the trestle, scowling down at them. “Mind your own business.”
At the harsh words, Phoenix jerked back, her gaze jumping back and forth from the man to the dog, painful indecision in her eyes. She opened her mouth, but said nothing.
Abuse of any kind had always set him off, so Coop was already pissed. Seeing Phoenix like this, reserved in her fear, really pushed him over the edge.
6
Worry had carried Phoenix to the bottom of the trestle. She’d expected kids and had fully intended to reprimand them. Instead, she found a rough-looking man.
Sudden fear turned her blood to ice...but the poor dog. “You’re scaring it,” she accused, meaning a forceful shout and only managing a weak protest. What am I going to do?
He threw another rock, which thankfully missed the poor animal. “He killed one of my chickens.”
She was trying to find her voice, trying to think of a reply, when Cooper stepped up behind her, saying over her head, “Hurt my dog again and you’ll be sorry.”
Until that moment, she’d forgotten he was with her. She looked up, seeing him as the man might: big, solid, pissed off.
A massive deterrent to abusive jerks.
Oh, thank God. She faced the man again, then looked for a path up to the trestle. Cooper’s hand on her arm kept her still. “Stay here.”
Ignoring his bare feet, he climbed the slope, up and around weeds and bramble, then she saw him emerge at the edge of the trestle. Wooden ties were missing in places, leaving gaping holes big enough for a body to fall through. Paying no attention to the seething creep, Cooper maneuvered easily until he reached the dog.
He glanced down at Phoenix. “He’s okay. Just scared.”
It meant a lot that he’d take the time to reassure her, but she badly wanted him and the dog away from the threat. “Can you get him?” she asked. If the dog lunged away, they could both end up falling from the trestle.
“Yeah, I’ll get him.”
The man stood at the other side where the trestle butted into the hill and stopped. “You owe me for the chicken.”
Still Cooper ignored the guy and, stripping off his shirt, carefully bent to the dog. Moving slowly, he bundled up the muddy animal, then stood with it cradled in his arms. The dog tucked its snout against his neck.
Cooper said, “Come by the manager’s office at the RV resort tomorrow and I’ll give you what you’re owed.”
Phoenix heard the menace in the words, but either the creep didn’t notice, or he was too stupid to take heed.
He spit toward the creek. “I want my money now.”
Ignoring him, Cooper turned, making his way carefully back to land.
Finally regaining rational thought, Phoenix turned and hurried back down the creek where they’d left their things. She tucked the phone into her pocket and hastily donned her socks and boots. Leaving them unlaced, she snatched up Cooper’s things, turned, and almost ran into two more men.
Her heart shot into her throat. She couldn’t see past them and had no idea where Cooper had gone. She didn’t mean to, but she backed up.
“You heard him. Harry wants his money now.”
She heard a rushing in her ears and realized it was her own racing pulse. Cooper couldn’t be far away, but how much help would he be against three men while holding a frightened dog?
She carefully inhaled, then asked with admirable calm, “How much?”
“Fifty ought to do it.”
Outrageous, especially since she didn’t believe that small dog had eaten a live chicken—not that it mattered. She’d left her purse in her cabin and only had five dollars in her pocket, put there in case she needed a drink or a sandwich from the camp store.
Unsure what to say, she backed up another step, stumbled over her laces, and barely kept herself from falling. Her glasses slid down her nose and she made a frantic grab to keep them in place.
The man speaking to her grinned.
They were both dirty, boldly looking her over. The talkative one was shirtless, the other wore a too-big, greasy black T-shirt.
This is not like the attack at the store, she promised herself. It’s not night, I’m not alone, and—
“Ah, look. I think you’re making her nervous, Frank.” The second man gave her a malicious smile. “Cat got your tongue, baby?”
Frank stared at her mouth. “Speaking of tongues—”
Suddenly Cooper was there, his big body casually moving between them, forcing the men back as he handed her the dog.
“I don’t think it’ll try to run, but be careful just the same as you head back to the park.”
He wants me to leave him? Rationally, Phoenix knew it made sense. If she left, she could at least send others to help—if it wouldn’t already be too late. She should hurry...yet she couldn’t seem to get her feet to move.
The dog, a smallish beagle mix with a bloody ear and big, frightened brown eyes, immediately stuck his nose over her shoulder, crowding as close as he could. The animal’s need for comfort helped her composure. She automatically crooned to him, backing up again to give Cooper some room while she tried to decide what to do. Stay or go? Try to help or keep out of the way?
She had no idea where the first man had gone and that worried her enough that she gave a quick look behind her, but all she saw was the rushing creek and woods.
They were well away from the resort...with three thugs threatening them.
Tryi
ng to be subtle, Phoenix cradled the dog in one arm and bent down to pick up a round, fist-sized rock. It wasn’t easy juggling everything, but the dog helped by curling as close as he could get.
No one paid any attention to her.
Cooper, his posture loose, his attitude unconcerned, faced the men. “I strongly suggest you boys run along now.”
Boys? That had to be a joke, but then, to a mature, responsible man like Cooper, they might seem young. She guessed them to be her age, maybe a little less, which would make them around ten years his junior. Still, men in their early twenties weren’t boys, especially when they reeked of trouble.
“Did you pay Harry?” Frank asked.
“Your chickenshit friend who likes to mistreat animals?” Cooper shifted closer to him. “Is that who you mean?”
Both punks bunched up.
Cooper continued, “I gave him a time to come to the RV resort tomorrow to get what he’s owed. Until then, I’m done talking to any of you.”
Had he and Harry spoken again after she’d run back to get their things? If they were politely conversing, maybe the worst of the threat was over.
Sadly, she realized it wasn’t when Frank, copping an attitude, poked a finger hard against Cooper’s chest.
Sneering, Frank said, “I suggest you—”
Before he could finish, Cooper kicked at his lead leg, sweeping it out from under him, and the shirtless fool went crashing to the bank, half rolling into the creek. He clutched his knee, groaning.
Almost at the same time, Cooper snatched up the other jerk by his shirt, saying close to his face, “You seriously don’t want to do this.”
The explicit warning hung in the air. Somehow, Cooper looked even bigger, bulkier—and all congeniality had disappeared in a poof.
Hands up, the leaner man said, “Okay, dude. Relax.”
Behind them, Harry finally showed up. “Let’s go,” he said, his tone sullen. “I’ll get my money tomorrow.”
Phoenix stared at the abuser. Along the left side of his face, mud caked in his hair and ear and was smeared across his jaw. His eye was slightly swollen and bloodshot. A rip in his T-shirt ran from the neck down to his sternum, causing the material to hang on his frame. He looked defensive and...
Small.
Physically and emotionally.
The realization surprised her, but now, with Cooper in charge of the situation, they all appeared far less threatening, more like the boys he’d accused them of being.
Residual fear kept her legs quaking, but her heart had slowed from its frantic beat.
She watched as the other two helped Frank from the creek. He limped badly. Together, shoulders hunched, grumbling among themselves, they departed.
As soon as they were out of sight, Cooper turned and, as he started to take his shoes from her, noticed the rock. One dark eyebrow shot up. “Were you planning to brain someone?”
Feeling horribly self-conscious now, she dropped the rock into the creek with a splash. “Maybe.”
A smile flashed over his face as he stepped into his shoes, then knelt to tie the laces. “You should have left when I asked you to.”
Anger vibrated in his tone but she didn’t know if it was aimed at her or the men. She’d wanted to go—and he deserved the truth. “I...couldn’t.” Reaction settled in, making her voice tremble.
He shot her a look, and his stern expression softened. After tying her shoes, too, he straightened. “Come on.” Easing the dog back into his own arms, he made sure his shirt stayed tucked around the poor thing. “I don’t want to stick around to see if they find their balls.”
No, she didn’t want that, either. Anyone heartless enough, cruel enough, to torment an animal was, in her opinion, capable of anything.
Cooper adjusted the dog in one arm, keeping it close to his chest, then wrapped a big hand around her wrist and started them on their way.
Phoenix licked her lips, her thoughts flying. “That man—Harry they called him—he was muddy and the side of his face was red.”
“He tried to take the dog from me.”
A simple statement, that said so much. “You hit him?”
Shrugging, he kept them going at a fast clip. “I wasn’t going to let him have the dog.”
No, of course he wouldn’t. She went the rest of the way silently, not sure what to say, anxious to get the dog to safety so she could assess his injuries. Minutes later, they emerged near the golf cart. Kids were close by, shooting baskets. A man was in the process of parking an enormous RV. Two women walked by, involved in friendly conversation.
It all seemed so normal, but Phoenix faced the truth: she wasn’t. Not yet.
Would she ever be?
* * *
Cooper turned the golf cart and instead of heading for the maintenance shed, he drove it to his own home. Phoenix was quiet, too damn quiet, as she idly stroked the dog’s head resting on his shoulder.
It had taken every ounce of control he had not to annihilate the punks who’d mistreated the dog and frightened Phoenix. Rage, familiar in its intensity, shimmered just beneath his calm facade.
“You shouldn’t pay them.”
Hearing her speak, regardless of what she said, relieved him. “They won’t get a dime from me.” The words emerged gruffer, angrier than he’d intended, but he was still so fucking furious...
Phoenix tipped her head. “But you said—”
“I want them to show up tomorrow.” He wanted that bad. “How else can the police talk with them?”
“Oh.” She released her breath on a faint smile. “I like that plan.” Then she frowned. “You’ll keep him?”
“Her, and yeah, I will.”
Her brows rose above the rims of her glasses. “He’s a female?”
Despite his volatile state, Coop laughed. Talking about the dog helped tamp down his turbulent mood. “Yes, she is—and why are you so surprised?”
“I dunno.” She eyed the dog skeptically. “He...she...just looks like a male, don’t you think?”
“Not where it counts, no.”
She choked, then gently stroked the dog’s head. “What if someone claims her?”
Shaking his head, Coop rejected that idea. “She’s a stray.” He glanced at Phoenix again, glad that she was loosening up even if he couldn’t. “Didn’t you see all the bloated ticks on her?”
“Uh, no.” Snatching her hand back and scooting a few inches away, she asked, “Ticks?”
“Likely fleas, too. A bath is on the immediate agenda—and since you had her against you, you should leave those clothes outside until you can wash them.”
Looking a little queasy, she asked, “What about her ear? It’s bleeding.”
“Hard to tell the problem under all that mud, but I don’t think it’s serious. Might’ve just been a tick that broke—”
“Eeww.” Her face scrunched in disgust.
It belatedly occurred to him that she might want some time alone. Her clothes were wet, her hands still trembling in reaction. Just because the dog was a priority for him, didn’t mean she felt the same. “I wasn’t thinking. Did you want me to take you home first?”
“No.” She firmed her mouth, and probably her resolve. “I’d like to help, if that’s okay.”
More than okay; he wanted to keep an eye on her, at least for an hour or so. After that...well, he’d have to see. “If you’re sure?”
“Positive.” With one finger, she tentatively touched the dog’s head, and said softly, “It’s the least I can do.”
Coop didn’t like the sound of that. Keeping his voice even, blanking out all frustration, he asked, “What does that mean, Phoenix?”
She whispered, “At the creek, with those men...” Her breath shuddered in, back out. “I was no help at all.”
“You held the dog when I asked you to.”
She shook her head. “I went deaf, dumb and blind, just like...” Her gaze shifted away, but she turned back to him seconds later as if facing her demons. “Just like before.”
New anger surged through his blood, further tensing his muscles until he thought he might break.
What the hell was a woman supposed to do against three men?
What could she have done against armed robbers?
Not a damn thing...just as his wife couldn’t.
The fury churned, bubbling up, harder and harder to suppress. Staring straight ahead, he clenched his hand on the steering wheel. A dozen retorts came to mind, none of them appropriate.
“I thought I was doing better—until that happened.”
“You had a rock,” he reminded her.
“That I’m not sure I could have used.”
“Well, thank God you didn’t. I had it under control.”
She teased, “It’s those alpha tendencies of yours.”
Cooper snorted.
She was quiet a moment, then softly admitted, “I was so scared.”
His jaw clenched. “Sometimes fear is commonsense.”
“Not if it paralyzes you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder in a brief show of affection, then straightened again. “I don’t know what would have happened to the dog if you hadn’t been there.”
The dog? It bothered him even more wondering what might have happened to her.
“You were really impressive, by the way.”
One more compliment and he’d lose his tenuous hold on control. “I was fucking furious.” Still was—not that she noticed. “I almost wish they hadn’t left so easily.”
“You wanted to fight?”
He gave a sharp nod. God, how he’d wanted to demolish them. Only his concern for Phoenix and the poor dog had stopped him.
“You’re confident you’d have handled them okay?”
He was, but... “Not confident enough to risk you.”
Her gaze moved over his face, and she smiled a little. “So if I hadn’t been there?”
He stopped the golf cart in front of his drive and stared down at her. “If you weren’t there, what would have happened to the dog?”
