“That was really mean.” I give her a playful pout.
She laughs. “That was really funny.”
“Those boys were ruthless. And you were, too.”
“I guess I have a little bit of a competitive streak.”
“You have a little bit of a pitiless streak,” I tease. “No rest for the weary with you around.”
“There’s a reason they call them bumper cars.” She laughs. “And I guess you found out.”
I love it when she laughs. She lets her guard down just a little and her eyes sparkle with joy. Without overthinking it, I pull her close and give her a kiss, right there in the middle of the thoroughfare.
After a few passersby whistle and hoot, Riley pulls away.
“Sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m not sorry at all,” she whispers in my ear.
I can’t believe what an effect she has on me as I feel myself getting hard again. If we weren’t standing in the middle of the fair, I’d take her right there.
“Let’s get on the Ferris Wheel,” I suggest. “Before it gets crowded.” The Ferris Wheel is one of the most popular rides at the Farm and Horse Show and even though it’s still early, there’s already a small line forming.
“You know the first Ferris Wheel was built for the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair,” I state, as Riley and I join the line.
She takes my hand. “And just how do you know that?”
“I wrote a paper about it in history class in high school.”
She looks at me like she’s studying me. “You’re a pretty smart guy.”
I swallow. I don’t want the conversation to continue if it might lead to a discussion about college. I don’t want to lie about attending Columbia. For the first time ever in my life, I’m not bragging about my Ivy League education. It actually feels strange. I’ve left myself no option but to try and impress Riley with who I am rather than what I own or what I’ve accomplished. It’s a little scary.
Riley’s looking up toward the top of the Ferris Wheel. “That’s really high.”
I nod. But when I study her face, she looks a little scared. “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
She furrows her brow. “I’m not sure.”
“You live in the city. I assume you’ve been inside tall buildings before.”
“It’s not exactly the same thing.” She points up to the top of the Ferris Wheel. “Those cars are completely exposed. When we get to the top of the wheel, we’ll just be dangling in the open air.”
“I’ll be there with you,” I reassure her.
Then I put my arms around her because I want her to feel safe. I want to take care of her. I want her to know that I’m there and that I can protect her.
“Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll give it a try.”
The line for the ride moves quickly once they start filling up the cars. Once we’re buckled into our seat, Riley looks over and gives me a weak half smile.
It’s not enough. I need to see her full smile. I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles one at a time. This is enough to bring out a full grin and she’s beaming again.
At least until our car starts its ascent up toward the top of the wheel. Then I can feel Riley start to shake.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “You can squeeze my hand if it’ll help.”
She does just that. And she’s a lot stronger than I thought she would be. But I let her keep squeezing as we make our way to the very top of the Wheel.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
Riley carefully glances around. I feel like she doesn’t want to move too much so she doesn’t rock the car. “It is pretty cool,” she agrees. “Not quite the view we had at Sunrise Mountain but it’ll do.”
As we make our descent back down the Wheel, I place a quick kiss on her cheek. She gives me that awesome smile of hers. “What was that for?”
“You lost your Ferris Wheel virginity with me.”
That makes her laugh.
***
“I made sure to bring a pocketful of quarters,” I mention as we stroll past all of the games of chance. Or as I like to say: the games of not-much-of-a-chance. I realize most of the games are set up so you’re unlikely to win, and even if you do, it’s only after spending about ten times what the lame prize you win is worth.
But I think the games are fun and I still like playing them.
“See any games that strike your fancy?” I ask.
We stroll past the water gun game and the balloon darts but neither elicits much of a response. I’m fairly good at both games and could probably win Riley a small prize, but she doesn’t seem too interested.
Then she spots a row of Skee Ball machines and her eyes go wide. She points at them. “What’s that?”
“Skee Ball,” I reply, as I pull her over to one of the machines. “Do you want to try it?”
“How do you play?” she asks, as she examines the machine more closely.
“It’s easy. My brothers and I have played Skee Ball since we were kids.”
I drop a quarter into the slot on one of the machines and all of the balls roll down. I take one and roll in up the lane. It lands in the top hole for fifty points.
“You’re good at it,” Riley comments.
“Lots of practice,” I admit. “Do you want to try?”
When she nods I move out of the way so she can play a few balls. Her first ball lands in the large bottom pocket for only ten points.
“Good start,” I encourage.
She scrunches up her nose the way I love. “It’s a lot harder than it looks.”
“You just need to keep practicing,” I assure her.
She tries another ball and this time, she does a little better and hits the twenty point ring.
“See? You’re practically an expert at it.”
She laughs.
“Why don’t you take over this game and I’ll start another one. We’ll get tickets faster that way.”
“Tickets?” she asks.
I point to the row of tickets coming out of the bottom of the machine. “The more points you score the more tickets you get. You can trade them in for prizes.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Prizes?”
I laugh. “Don’t get too excited. The prizes aren’t that great. They’re like toys you can get at the dollar store. But it’s still fun.”
I hand her a few dollars’ worth of quarters and then move over to the machine next to her and start playing.
After a few minutes, I look over and see that she’s really gotten the hang of it. Most of her balls are going into the forty and fifty point holes.
Then, to my surprise, she hits the hundred point hole in the very corner of the game. It’s a difficult hole to hit and one that even I don’t make that often.
The lights on the top of her machine start to blink and a little siren goes off. Her eyes go wide and she looks over at me. “Did I do something wrong?”
I shake my head. “You got the Bonus Score.” Then I point to where tickets are pumping out of her machine.
“Wow, that’s a lot of tickets.”
“That’s what happens when you hit the corner hole.”
She grins.
“Do you think you can do it again?” I ask.
“Oh, yeah!”
Riley seem to be like some kind of Skee Ball savant because from that point on, she’s on fire and it doesn’t stop. She’s raking up tickets like I’ve never seen before.
When all of our quarters are finally spent, we take the huge pile of tickets over to the counter with all of the prizes.
Riley hands the old guy behind the counter the huge pile of tickets we’ve both accumulated and he actually looks a little surprised.
He puts the tickets through an automated ticket counter and declares that we have 523, enough for one of the larger, second tier prizes.
Riley can’t help but grin when we both look up at the second tier of prizes and they’re all stuffed animals, and not ju
st any animals, they’re all various shapes and sizes of stuffed cows.
“Just what I always wanted,” she declares facetiously. “A stuffed cow.”
“See one you like?” the old guy asks.
“It’s so hard to choose,” Riley declares. Then she glances in my direction and adds. “I love cows so much.”
***
“It’s not that bad,” I say as I examine the stuffed cow more closely. Riley picked one with gigantic eyes and a button for a nose.
“It’s a cow,” she teases. “You know how much I love them.”
“He’s kind of cute.” I move the cow back and forth in front of her. Then I try to speak in my best cartoon cow voice, “Please love me Riley. Even if I am a cow.”
“Fine,” she says, and grabs the cow from me. “I love you,” she says to the cow and gives it a quick kiss. Then she glances at me. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic. I feel like I’m living vicariously through that cow.”
“Does that mean you want a kiss too?” she teases.
“That’s exactly what it means.” I pull her close and place a soft kiss on her lips. To my surprise she deepens it and soon we’re standing in the middle of the thoroughfare making out again. It takes a few more hoots and hollers before we both decide to break.
“Now what?” Riley asks.
“You must be starving.”
“I could eat.”
“How about funnel cake?”
She frowns. “I don’t know. I’m still a little weary about fair food”
“At least give it a try,” I urge.
We stop at the funnel cakes booth and I order one for us to share. It’s dripping with grease and powdered sugar. I hope Riley loves it as much as I do.
“I can see it’s a real health food,” she jokes, as she takes a piece and pops it in her mouth. I notice that she’s got some powdered sugar on the side of her mouth. I wipe at it with my thumb.
“So?” I ask. “How do you like it?”
“I actually think I can feel my arteries hardening,” she jokes.
I dip my finger in a big glob of powdered sugar and playfully wipe it on her nose. She goes a little cross-eyed as if she’s trying to catch a glimpse of the sugar. Then she retaliates by wiping a little on my nose as well.
Within a few minutes, Riley looks like she’s turning a little green. I can see sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “I’m not feeling so good,” she says. “I think I need to sit down.”
“Is it the funnel cake?” I ask. “I feel fine.”
“Are you used to eating greasy foods?” she asks as she takes a seat on an unoccupied bench.
I don’t want to admit that I have a pretty awful bachelor diet. I almost always eat out and rarely cook.
“I’m usually a fairly healthy eater. I don’t think all the grease and sugar is sitting well on my stomach.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. I feel like a real jerk for making her try the funnel cake. “Maybe I should take you back home so you can lie down for a while.”
She nods. As I help her up I notice she’s holding her stomach. I wish there was something I could do to make her feel better.
I take the shortest possible route back to my parents’ place and have her undressed and back in the bed as quickly as possible.
“I’m going to get you some Ginger Ale, okay?” I ask as I wipe her forehead with a wet washcloth. “It’ll settle your stomach.”
She gives me a small smile that tugs at my heartstrings. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.”
I place a light kiss on her forehead and head for the kitchen.
Tucker is seated at the breakfast table. This time he’s staring at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on his plate.
“What’s going on?” I say, as I pass by him.
He just grunts in response.
“Are you actually going to eat that sandwich or are you just going to watch it to see if it moves?”
“Funny,” he replies, as he picks it up and takes a bite.
I open the fridge. “Do you want some milk with that?”
“Yeah, okay.” He takes another bite of his sandwich.
I grab the Ginger Ale and milk. “Riley’s not feeling well.”
“I’m not surprised the Farm and Horse Show made her sick,” he says. “I hate that place.”
“How can you hate the Farm and Horse Show?” I ask. “It’s a tradition.”
“It sucks,” he grumbles.
“I still like it.” I pour a glass of milk for him and a small glass of Ginger Ale for Riley. “It brings back memories of Mom and Dad taking us when we were kids.”
“I guess if I had kids I’d take them,” he says. Then he glares at me. “But we both know there’s not a lot of chance of that happening. Maybe I’ll get to take my nieces and nephews when you and Riley have kids.”
“Nothing like getting way ahead of ourselves,” I say, as I place the milk down in front of him. “I’ve known Riley for all of two days.”
“You can’t tell me you don’t already have feelings for her. I have eyes, Dude.”
I don’t really want to go down that road with Tucker because I really have no idea what’s happening with me and Riley. He’s right, I do like her. But I haven’t exactly been honest about who I am. I get the feeling that she kind of likes the New Jersey country boy but it’s not really who I am. At least it’s not all that I am. I’m not sure she’ll like the real Cooper Wilde, the Wall Street wannabe, the person who I’ve worked so hard to become and the one I’m now working just as hard to hide.
I take a seat at the table with Tucker. “I do have feelings for her. I just don’t know how she feels about me.”
He actually rolls his eyes at me. “All girls like you, Coop. How could they not? You’re perfect in every way.”
“She likes who she thinks I am. I don’t think she’ll like the real me very much.” She already said it a number of times. No Wall Street guys. She’s not into them at all.
“You won’t know until you give her a chance.”
“I don’t want to mess things up,” I admit. “I’m afraid I’ll lose her if she finds out who I really am.”
“I’m definitely not the person to give advice about girls.” Tucker takes a gulp of his milk then continues. “But I think you should be honest with her.”
I rise. “I need to get this Ginger Ale up to her.”
He nods then says, “The band is going to practice soon. Getting ready for tonight. You in?”
“Yeah, I’m in,” I reply as I exit with the soda. He’s right. I should be honest with her. I just can’t bring myself to actually do it. I want her to fall completely and totally in love with me first. Is that a bad thing?
Riley eyes pop open when I enter the room. “I must have dozed off.”
“Here,” I sit on the edge of the bed and help Riley prop herself up a bit. I hold the glass and give her a small sip of the Ginger Ale.
“Thanks.” She gives me a forced half smile.
“Do you need anything else?” I offer. Once again, I’m overwhelmed by the urge to take care of her.
“Maybe just some rest.” She lies back down on the pillows.
“Okay.” I place a soft kiss on her cheek. “I’m going to practice with the guys for a while. I decided to play tonight. I hope you’ll feel better by then. I’d really like for you to see us.”
“I’m sure I’ll feel fine after a nap,” she assures me. “I really want to hear you play.”
That’s the final part of my plan to get Riley to fall for me. After she sees me perform, I plan on telling her the truth. That I’m not just a country bumpkin like she thinks. That there’s another side to me. Hopefully, it won’t be a deal breaker.
I tuck in the edges of the covers so Riley won’t get cold. Then I place another kiss on her forehead. “Get some rest,” I whisper as she closes her eyes.
Ten
Riley
I’ve never had another person take care of
me before. My parents weren’t exactly nurturing types. It surprises me that Cooper is so tender and gentle and takes such good care of me.
I have to admit that I really like it.
I wonder what changed his mind about playing with the Wilde Riders again. He seemed so dead set against it. I can’t help but think that I influenced him when I said I wanted to see him play.
When my cellphone rings, I grab it from the nightstand and answer it without bothering to look at the caller ID.
“Where are you?” a female voice screams at me through my cell phone.
I instantly regret answering the call. But in my defense, I thought it might be Cooper phoning to check up on me and I didn’t want him to worry. I feel like I need to tell Patti that I'll be staying in New Jersey all weekend. I don't want her to worry about me. She'll probably send a search party to look for me if I don't.
“I'm staying in New Jersey until Monday,” I state and brace myself for the inevitable round of questions that I’m sure will follow.
“I heard the words,” she says. “I'm just having a hard time believing what I'm hearing. You hate New Jersey. You've said you'd rather die than have to spend time in New Jersey. You said you'd rather be strung up by your toenails than spend time in New Jersey. You said...”
I cut her off before she can continue. “I lost a bet, okay?” I’m not ready to share anything else with Patti. I know how judgmental she tends to get.
Besides, aren’t things with Cooper strictly for the weekend? Despite how incredibly hot as he is, and how sweet he seems to be, and as much chemistry as we have and as compatible as we seem to be, we both agreed it was a short term thing. We're from different worlds. There's no future for us. We both know it.
But if that's true, why am I so sad thinking about the possibility of never seeing him again after I go back to New York?
“What kind of bet is that?” Patti asks.
“It doesn't matter. I just don’t want you to worry when I don’t come back to the city right away.”
“I'm still worried,” she says. “Maybe even more so now. This isn't like you. You're not spontaneous. You don't just make a bet and stay in New Jersey.”
“Please don't worry,” I plead. “I'm fine.”
She doesn't respond right away and that worries me. Finally, I hear her let out an enormous sigh. “I'm coming to New Jersey.”
Wilde Riders (Old Town Country Romance) Page 9
