Bernice gave her a small smile and nod and then turned to Cooper. “Well, it was nice to see you. It’s been a while,” she said.
Cooper nodded. “It has. I’ve been busy with work, but uh, I’ll stop by one day for a coffee.”
Frank grasped his shoulder, warmth and familiarity spilling from his eyes. “You do that, son.”
“It was nice meeting you, miss,” Frank said. Bernice nodded again, and then they left. She and Cooper sat back down, and she couldn’t quite tell what the expression on his face meant, but whatever warmth and openness had been there before was now gone. He seemed hard and closed off, very much like the man she’d first met.
Emily took a sip of her coffee, but it was now cold. “They seem like very nice people,” she said, trying to break the silence. He didn’t say anything for a moment, and she looked away, her gaze wandering the restaurant. Couples laughed and talked in soft voices, candlelight flickered, and her heart squeezed as she realized she had never really been one of those people. Cooper had, with his wife. But she’d always kept her distance; she didn’t even know how to be open with another person. Cooper had, and he’d lost it all.
The waitress brought their check, and Cooper quickly put the cash in the black leather billfold, obviously trying to expedite their exit. “They are very nice people,” he said finally, as the waitress left. “We were pretty close. They were a second set of parents to me. Catherine was an only child, and they took me in like one of their own.”
She cringed at the injustice those people had suffered. And then to see Cooper tonight on a date with a new woman must have been heartbreaking. For all of them. They all shared this past, this love of a woman that had died too young, and they could never reclaim that life. It was like a different world, or maybe a dream.
Cooper stood, the hard lines of his face taut and unyielding. “I guess we should get going,” he said.
Wow. That was a sad end to their first date, and she couldn’t even blame him. She nodded, her throat clogged with emotion, not wanting to speak. She grabbed her purse, and they made their way out of the restaurant, the faint touch of his hand on the small of her back reminding her that before they’d met Catherine’s parents he had been affectionate and warm, and now…he was distant and polite and nothing more. If she’d been in his position, she didn’t know what she would have done. Maybe cried. She was getting the distinct impression that maybe this wasn’t right.
They drove in silence, and she didn’t know what to say. She wanted to retreat within herself, to go back to her new home and just be alone. Their easy conversation was gone, and she didn’t think there was anything she could say that would make it better. The truck jerked slightly, and Cooper cursed under his breath as he decelerated and pulled onto the shoulder.
“I have a flat,” he said, running his hands through his hair.
Her mouth dropped open. This was almost laughable. Like, of course this was the way her first day with a man like this would go. Oh, wait until she told Callie. This was a disaster. “Oh no, do you have CAA?”
“What?”
“You know, roadside assistance.”
“Nope. I’m going to change it myself.”
“Oh,” she said.
“It’ll take me a bit,” he said. “You can stay inside and stay warm.”
“Sure.” She sat back and crossed her arms.
He hopped out of the truck, and the force of the wind slammed it shut. She heard the sound of clanking, and all her hope at a relationship with Cooper faded. Tonight was going all wrong. This man had lost his first wife. He’d stood by her. He’d been everything to her. He hadn’t been out with anyone in five years. Then she came along, and she knew from the moment she’d met him at the Sleepless Goat that he was someone special. And, despite everything, he’d seen something in her.
He’d never made fun of her when he taught her how to throw a ball. He’d struck out on purpose because of her. He’d cleaned up dead mice for her. He had made reservations to an elegant restaurant and dressed up for her even though she’d only ever seen him in jeans. He had signed her damned contract without asking her a question. And now, after a ruined night, he was outside in the cold changing a tire, probably regretting everything.
She opened the door, the cool air making her shudder, and walked around the side, her heels sinking into the soft gravel. He was pulling things out of the cab of his truck. “You should go back inside, Emily. It’s cold and damp out here. No point in both of us getting chilled,” he said, not really looking at her, just chucking tools onto the ground. She’d never changed a tire in her life or even seen anyone change one.
“That’s okay. I’ll keep you company,” she said, trying to sound chipper as the wind blew her hair off her face, making a mockery of the perfect beach waves she’d managed. Her mouth went dry as he began unbuttoning his shirt. She shouldn’t stare. Unfortunately she just couldn’t make herself turn away.
He shrugged out of his button-down shirt and dropped it into the cab of his truck, not paying her any notice, which was good because she didn’t really want to look away. Sure, she’d seen him around the house in T-shirts, but this wasn’t the same. This was a fitted white undershirt that was plastered to his body, highlighting all of his muscles as they rippled. If she’d had a lawn chair and popcorn she might have pulled up and watched the show. That was juvenile of her. “Can I do anything?” she asked, knowing she actually had no way of helping.
He was now under the truck and hoisting it up. Her breath caught as his shirt rode up, revealing what she’d suspected were taut, perhaps six-pack abs. Not that it mattered. That was vain and silly. Very silly. But she still didn’t turn away.
“Nope,” came the muffled reply.
She ignored him. He stood abruptly and hauled the tire off the back of the truck, and she tried not to look like she’d been watching him like a fangirl as he paused and made eye contact with her.
“I’m sorry,” he said flatly.
Emotion and adrenaline clogged her throat as she stared at the man in front of her. His hair was as disheveled as hers. He was dirty and hard and frustrated, and he was the best thing she’d ever seen in her entire life because he was real. He was staring at her as though he’d just committed a crime, as though it hurt him, because their date hadn’t gone like it was supposed to. He was concerned for her. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was because Cooper was a man of so many gifts, so much heartache, so much integrity. Maybe that was why she didn’t just stand there on the sidelines and accept that as her fate in life.
Life wasn’t fair, and he was living proof of that, but the winners kept going, they kept pushing through the pain and the heartache, they pushed to see if they could get to the other side. That’s what she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted to join him, to find that other side, that new life.
Maybe he got that, because instead of going back to fixing the tire, he let it fall to the ground, and as he approached, he dropped the tool he was holding and kept walking toward her with an expression that made it impossible to breathe. He stood in front of her, maybe an inch from making contact, and then he raised his hands and cupped each side of her face, and she was pretty sure that her entire life she had never experienced something so intoxicating and overwhelming as having Cooper’s hands on hers, his gaze on her, telling her things without words. He was speaking to her heart, and no one had ever done that. “I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned. I wanted to do something special for you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, his gaze going from her eyes to her mouth.
“This…right here…you, this is all I want,” she whispered. She didn’t have a minute to second-guess being so candid and so vulnerable, because he lowered his mouth and took hers in a way that made it perfectly clear he wanted her just as much. His mouth was firm and intense and everything she dreamed of. Her hands roamed over his hard chest, and he kept one hand on her face while the other pulled her into him, and the feel of his hard body made her whimper against
his mouth.
He backed her against the truck, and she finally experienced what it was like to lose control. She had never imagined how all-encompassing, how consuming it could be to be with someone. But she knew it wasn’t just someone, just anyone, because no one had ever managed to evoke complete abandon like he did. It was like she was herself, but without inhibitions, like she was looking at herself from outside.
This woman, the one in Cooper’s arms, the one kissing a man on the side of the road against a truck, wasn’t sensible Emily. This woman was the real Emily.
She clung to him for dear life, for this other version of herself that he brought out. She didn’t want her to go away, she didn’t want Cooper to ever stop. One strong hand ran down her side and stopped at her bottom. He cupped one cheek, and she raised her leg so that he could step in closer. He made a noise that sounded like approval as his hand went to her breast, and that was the moment she contemplated how bad it would be to have sex with someone on the side of the road.
But strong headlights drew them both from the haze they were in. Cooper raised both his arms so she was huddled against his chest, blocked from view, until the large truck barrelled past them. Neither of them moved for a moment, and then he pressed his lips against her forehead before he pushed off of her gently. She shivered.
“I guess I should apologize about this, too,” he said with a small smile that seemed only slightly apologetic.
She laughed. “No, I think this made up for our bad luck tonight.”
His eyes darkened and something flashed across them. “I should get this tire on, and you should get in the truck, or we’re both going to be sick on Monday.”
She shrugged. “I think I’d rather keep you company. You’re a lot more fun now that you’ve worked on your bedside manner.”
Chapter Twelve
The sound of Emily’s teeth chattering made Cooper get up off the couch and put another log on the fire. “There, that should heat this room up in no time,” he said. They were back at her giant house, sitting on the sofa in the family room, waiting for the fireplace to warm up the large space.
“I thought you said the boiler was more than adequate for heating up this house,” she said, shooting him a teasing look.
“It is, except you actually have to turn on the heat to make it work, and it takes longer than ten minutes to warm a ten-thousand-square-foot inn.”
“Details,” she said over the rim of her wineglass.
He laughed. He hadn’t intended on coming in after he drove her home, but after the night they’d had, he couldn’t just leave her. And if he were really truthful, he didn’t want to leave her. He wanted more. For the first time since Catherine, he wanted everything. He wanted to know her secrets, he wanted to know her past, he wanted to hear her laugh, he wanted to hold her, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to spend the night with her.
Emily was so different from Catherine. What he felt for her was different, too. Not that he wanted to go through his life comparing women to his deceased wife, but she was the only woman he’d given his heart and soul to. Catherine had been fearless. She’d had an easy self-confidence that had come from an upbringing that was solid and positive. She hadn’t been afraid of anything or of trying anything.
On the outside, at first, that’s what he’d assumed about Emily. She’d been polished…except for their first encounter. But she was poised and knew her way around a business. She was educated and sophisticated, but when he started spending more time with her, some of the layers stripped away to reveal a vulnerable side that left him with the unfamiliar need to watch out for her. “So can I ask you about that contract that I signed?”
Her gaze darted from his to the wine bottle. “Uh, sure. But you really should have asked for clarification before you signed.”
He laughed. “Noted. But I think I would have signed just about anything to go out with you.”
Her shoulders relaxed, and the panic left her eyes. She smiled at him, almost like she was seeing him in a different way, and he wondered at that. At what it was she was so afraid of. “So which points did you want clarification on?”
He thought back to the contract and tried to keep the mood light. “Maybe not the points in detail, but maybe the reason behind the entire list.”
She pulled the plaid blanket tighter around herself, and he fought the urge to pull her onto his lap and lie down with her, to feel her body next to his again. “So, I’ve had people in my past that made me insecure about myself. I decided I was going to start a new life, and anyone who tried to put me down or make me feel inadequate by their standards didn’t deserve to be in my life.”
“Who was he?” he asked in as soft a voice as he could muster. He already knew it was some guy, but he wanted to know more. He wanted to know what he did, wanted to know who she was before she became the woman sitting in front of him.
“We’re breaking so many rules. So many personal stories. If I tell you, that’ll nix the Darth rule, too.”
She was right. He didn’t care about the contract anymore. Hell, he didn’t even care about the lifetime rodent removal he’d agreed to, because he wanted to know more. He couldn’t get enough of Emily. “I won’t let anyone know we’re in breach of contract if you don’t.”
She made a sound that was almost a laugh. Her gaze left his, and she drew her knees up under her chin. “I guess I have to talk, don’t I? You managed, and your…heartbreak is one I can’t even imagine living through,” she whispered, her eyes shining. Maybe that was one of those things he liked most about her—the compassion that appeared without warning, without qualifiers. They were talking about her, and she was still thinking about him and Catherine.
“We all have our own stories, our own pain,” he said. “This isn’t about who had a worse life or who suffered more. My experience doesn’t make yours any less bad.”
She picked up her wineglass again. “It was my family, I guess. There was a very strange family dynamic in my house. My brother is twelve years older than me, and my father was often working and not really involved in the day-to-day at the house. My brother took over as a sort of pseudo-father figure, except he wasn’t a very nice person.”
He tried to hide his surprise, because this hadn’t been what he was expecting. He had thought the guy was an ex, a boyfriend or husband. He’d come from a very normal, stable family, as had Catherine, and he had no idea what it would be like to grow up in a dysfunctional home. “How so?” he asked when she didn’t continue.
She gave a small shrug. “I have a lot of early memories of fearing him. Like he had this uncontrollable temper. I remember once when I was six, I laughed at something he did when a friend was over, and he just went crazy and started kicking me and yelling at me. He had a violent streak that would come on without warning. Or like other things, like destroying my favorite toys in a fit of rage. I remember running to the bathroom to lock myself in because I was afraid he’d hurt me. When you’re little and you’re growing up in a house like that, you don’t really realize there is something wrong until you get older and see how other families function. Because he was so much older, it wasn’t just a brother and sister tormenting or teasing each other. He was twelve years older than me.
“Anyway, as I grew up, I really became close with my father. I’d go into the office with him, and I’d want to know everything about the family business. Those were my favorite days. No one mocked me, no one hurt me.”
She took a long sip of wine and blinked a few times. “When I started going through puberty, my brother would make constant remarks about how fat I was getting, what I should be eating to lose weight, or how ugly I was. This is where the whole baseball story fits in,” she said, choking out a laugh.
He couldn’t even bring himself to fake a smile.
“I really wanted to play baseball. I was a huge fan and watched so many games. I was asking my mother one day if I could play. My brother overheard and said that I should play something like soccer, instead,
because it burned more calories than baseball.”
He ran a hand over his jaw, keeping his remarks to himself. “What did your mother say?”
“She never corrected him. I think at some point along the way she became afraid of him—when he didn’t get his way, he would lash out and be verbally abusive. So she just told me that it was for boys, anyway, and I should sign up for piano lessons. I started becoming more and more self-conscious and would try to cover myself up as much as possible. I had a lot of issues with my body and had a very distorted image of who I was. When I look back on pictures, I’m sad for that girl, because I actually wasn’t heavy at all. But in my mind I was obese. I grew up hiding all my accomplishments because whenever something good happened to me, he would lash out even more.”
“Didn’t he ever move out?”
She gave a short laugh. “No. I went away to university hours away just to be free of that house. But the saddest part was that it was him who drove me away. I missed my parents, even my mother, who I saw as someone who didn’t help me fight against him. But I had no choice—I needed to get away to preserve my sanity. He would call me all the time.”
“Why?”
“A way to control me, maybe? He had no friends, no lasting relationships. He had a volatile relationship with our father, and even though he was always arguing with him, he joined the family business. I would have to talk to him on the phone just to try to preserve some peace and not have him lash out at me and create problems with our mother. When I graduated, I started working with my father right away. I worked so hard, and we saw eye to eye on so many things.
“But that, unfortunately, also brought out my brother’s jealous side. My father saw and knew exactly the kind of man my brother was, but confronting him made my mother very upset, so my father always backed off. My father knew I wanted to run the company one day, and I thought…I thought I would. He shut me out, though,” she said, her voice breaking.
The Boyfriend Contract Page 15
