“Does Dean know you’re tearing it down?”
His dad stopped pointing out the chipped paint. “Your brother—” he started, and glanced at his watch, an old, sensible, waterproof number he had bought himself after returning the Rolex Cooper and Dean had saved up to give him one birthday, years ago. “Your brother is going to be wondering why we’re late to dinner. I promised him I’d bring you two straight over.”
Dean had obviously not been wondering any such thing. He was taking a nap in the hammock outside when they rolled up to his house barely ten minutes later and only stirred when a barking blur tore down the long front lawn toward them.
“Beluga! No!” Dean struggled to consciousness and out of the hammock, but he was no match for Beluga, an ugly tan-and-white cattle dog mix whose aggressive barks sounded like she was in the mood for some steak tartare.
Cooper braced himself. Dogs didn’t like him. Maybe because they could smell Boogie on him, maybe because he gave off anxious “unstable energy,” a big no-no in the dog-eat-dog world, according to a late night NatGeo binge. Beluga must have seen the same show, because her eyes zeroed in on Cooper.
“Beluga, heel!” Dean finally disentangled himself from the hammock as Park drifted forward to stand at Cooper’s shoulder and growled, just slightly, under his breath.
Beluga stopped abruptly about three feet away, her head dropped, huge ears flattened back and her shoulders hunched and quivered like there was a great big invisible weight there. She whined and licked her lips but no longer seemed aggressive.
“Wow, I can’t believe that worked,” Dean said, trotting over to them.
He didn’t look anything like Cooper. It was like they had evenly divvyed up their parents’ genetic material and Dean, being three years older, had gotten first pick. Cooper had been a skinny kid who worked out hard just to be a willowy adult with muddy, washed-out brown-blond hair and not particularly memorable brown-green eyes. Meanwhile, Dean had been graced with their father’s broad, sturdy build while his hair and eyes were their mother’s brown, so deep and dark it was almost black. Overall it was a striking combination, intimidating. Not a kid to be messed with, but then, who would? Everybody loved Dean. The Dayton boys, people said, couldn’t be more different. And though they’d technically divided up the genetics evenly, it was Cooper who always felt like the changeling.
Dean and Ed slapped each other’s backs and then, to his surprise, Cooper was pulled into Dean’s arms for a brief, back-slapping hug. For a weird moment, even though he was taller, he felt every bit the kid brother again.
“I’m happy you could come,” Dean said as he pulled back, looking as awkward as Cooper felt.
“Yeah, ’course I came,” Cooper muttered, embarrassed to remember how desperate he’d been to get out of this weekend. “Uh, Dean, this is my partner, Oliver Park.”
Dean looked Oliver up and down carefully, his dark eyes seeming sharper than usual, before he grinned and offered Park his hand. “Welcome. It’s good to finally meet you.”
Cooper frowned at that. He was sure he’d never mentioned Park to his family before, besides the vague “partner.” Maybe Dean was confusing him with someone else.
Maybe Jefferson.
Before Dean could say anything else, Cooper clarified, “We’ve only been together a few months. Park just, uh, transferred from...another office.”
“And before that he was an English professor,” Ed said patronizingly. “Honestly, when’s the biography coming out, Coop?”
Cooper flushed.
Park said, “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thanks, man.” Dean smiled more naturally this time, and then pulled Park into a hug for good measure. Park stiffened. Like most wolves Cooper had met, he wasn’t big on people in his personal space uninvited, not that Cooper blamed them.
Cooper started forward, unsure where this new physically affectionate Dean had come from and how he could get him to back off. “Um—”
Just then, seemingly unable to take it anymore, Beluga let out a piercing whine-moan and whatever invisible weight had been on her shoulders took her down to the ground and rolled her to her back.
Dean laughed. “The hell is up with you today, girl?” He released Park and patted the dog on her exposed stomach. Beluga glanced between him and Park before whining again and staring determinedly away from both.
“Where are the girls?” Ed asked.
“Cayla’s trying on her Halloween costume ’cause, you know, the big day’s only a month away. Sophe’s on the phone ripping the caterer apart. I came out here to steer clear of the bloodshed. That woman has the scariest passive-aggressive voice you’ve ever heard.” Dean grinned while he said it, though, a note of awe in his voice.
Ed huffed. “I told you that fancy caterer stuff was gonna get too complicated. Horton’s could have fixed you up with more wings and beers than you knew what to do with. Let me call up Art and get you a deal—”
Dean cut him off firmly. “Sophie’s got it under control, Dad. And if not and we all end up eating roasted caterer, then you and Art can bring the beer, how does that sound?”
Cooper blinked. He’d never heard Dean disagree with their dad before, and he watched Ed closely, waiting for the sharp blowup, but it didn’t come.
“Idiot,” Ed just said with finality but not much heat. He started up the lawn grumbling. Dean shrugged and smiled at Cooper, slapped him on the back again, and they all followed Ed toward the rambling ranch house.
When Cooper was here in January, Dean had been living in a dingy little bachelor’s apartment over a laundromat that always smelled like detergent. Pleasant and homey at first, but migraine-inducing after a couple of hours. He’d heard from his dad that Dean had bought this place with Sophie in the spring, but he hadn’t been expecting it to be so, well, nice. Huge windows caught the setting sun and pine trees around the property gave the place some privacy from the road. It felt a million miles from the Jagger Valley they’d grown up in.
And Dean was different than the guy he remembered, too. As kids, though he was only three years older, Dean had seemed as distant and unknowable as a star. He had the same burning intensity in everything he did, too. But now, here, he was chatting casually with Oliver about their drive down, and the weather, and landscaping. He was calmer and happier and just different.
Maybe Cooper wasn’t the only Dayton who had grown up.
The thought left an oddly bitter taste in Cooper’s mouth he wasn’t sure he was ready to understand. So he pushed it away and followed his family forward.
Chapter Four
“Somebody loves you,” Cayla said to Park.
Cooper dropped his fork.
The six of them were eating pesto pasta with cherry tomatoes and parmesan cheese at a large rustic farm table complete with benches. Cooper had somehow gotten trapped between his father and Sophie while Park was on the other side with Dean and Cayla.
“Oh?” Park said, leaning down a bit to talk to her. She looked a lot like Sophie had at that age. Same big, dark eyes. Same rich, deep brown skin. Her smile even had the same crooked gap between her two adult front teeth that dwarfed the baby teeth around them, though Sophie had outgrown that bit by now. The biggest difference was Cayla currently had curling whiskers painted on her face and a pair of tawny felt cat ears propped up on her curls. “Do I get to know who?”
Cayla pointed down. All of them leaned back on their benches to look under the table. At Park’s feet Beluga was curled up, panting with her eyes closed. She looked totally blissed out.
“I’ve never seen her sit through a whole dinner without begging,” Sophie said. “All right, I’m impressed. What’d you do, bribes? Tranquilizers in your socks? Decoy dog?”
Park laughed and Beluga’s head tilted toward him, eyes still closed, mouth still open, like she was laughing with him. “Let’s just sa
y we came to a mutual understanding.”
“Oooh, tough and mysterious.” Sophie nodded her approval and then winked at Cooper. It was a trip spending time with her again. Even weirder to see her interacting with Cayla as a parent, and weirdest of all to see Dean do the same.
Cooper and Sophie had been pretty close friends in elementary until everyone—kids and parents and teachers—started dropping not-so-subtle hints that boys and girls weren’t friends. Couldn’t just be friends, anyway. The awkwardness, the sense that adults were looking at them like they’d done something wrong or strange, put an end to it eventually.
But he had missed her. So Cooper had asked her to be his girlfriend because that seemed like the thing he was supposed to do to make his father happy and still get to keep his friend.
It hadn’t worked at all. Dating at that age just meant lots of giggling from their friends any time they interacted, and soon even that came to an end as well.
Sophie was asking Park, “Is that some sort of requirement to be in the BSI, sounding all tough and mysterious. Do you get cool sunglasses? If you tell me, do you have to kill me?”
Ed snorted. “I doubt that. They took Coop, after all.”
Cooper focused on spearing a cherry tomato with his fork.
“Cooper’s tough,” Sophie said, tone intentionally light. “Remember when Gabriel Bell dared us to jump off the back dock into the roped-off part of the marina? You know, the side where all the sea monsters live?” She wiggled her eyebrows at Cayla.
“Yeah. Why exactly did we think the sea monsters stayed in that section only?”
“Because sea monsters can’t swim under ropes. This is a fact. Trust me, I’m a vet.”
“Did you do it?” Cayla asked, wide-eyed.
“Your uncle Cooper sure did. Jumped in before Gabriel could get the first ‘bawk bawk’ out after calling us chicken.”
Cooper felt an unexpected surge of pleasure at being somebody’s Uncle Cooper and smiled gratefully at Sophie. “Yeah, and then I froze in the water, too scared to kick down and swim back.” He’d just tried to tread water in one place, keeping his knees as high as possible, absolutely convinced something had touched his ankle. Sea monster or not, something probably had. God, he’d hated that marina. But Cooper had done a lot of shit just because Gabriel Bell had told him to. “Eventually your mom had to jump in and save me.”
Sophie flapped her hand. “Eh. It was teamwork. Not that Gabriel was jumping in to help. So I guess we know who the real chicken was.”
“I saw some ‘Vote Bell’ signs on the drive in. Is that Gabriel?” Cooper asked casually.
“Nah. His sister, Eliza, of course,” Ed said. “Finally campaigning for mayor. She’s only been preparing for it her whole life. You remember how she is.”
“Not really,” Cooper said. He knew Gabriel had two siblings, Eliza and Ja-something—Jack, no; Jacob, maybe—but they were at least ten years older than him and hadn’t been around much. Besides, neither of them had been the Bell he’d had eyes for.
“Well, she’s a shoe-in. Though rumor is this is just a stepping stone. She has her eye on governor, eventually. Always has. I don’t know what it is about this generation that thinks they’re too good to stick around town.”
“Hey,” Dean said. “What about me?”
Ed ignored him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up back here one day. Everyone comes home to the Valley eventually.” He looked at Cooper.
Dean laughed awkwardly. “Cue the organ music. Jesus, Dad, that didn’t sound creepy at all. Anyway. What about you, Oliver? Ever do anything totally stupid on a dare?”
“I’m one of six and smack in the middle. Stupid dares were actually a strict requirement of staying in the family. See this here?” Park pointed to the scar that cut through his upper lip. “I got this because of a dare from my siblings.”
“What happened?”
Cooper straightened in his seat, practically holding his breath in anticipation of a rare tidbit of Park’s personal life. After four months of Park never speaking about his past, Cooper wondered why he was so easily offering up stories now. Was it as simple as because he was asked? Or was he, too, trying to pull the conversation away from Ed’s pointed comments?
“Once, when I was just a little older than Cayla, my older sisters dared me to jump out of a seventy-foot pine tree onto the horse barn roof.”
“Awesome,” Dean said. He caught Sophie’s eye and hastily added, “I mean, how horrible and stupid, and I bet you got into a lot of trouble. So, uh, did you make it?”
Sophie rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I hit the roof fine. Then kept going right through it.”
“Rotted infrastructure,” Ed said with emphasis. “Very dangerous.” Cooper bit his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up with a scar himself.
Park continued quickly. “Fortunately I landed in a stack of old blankets. But that was just luck,” he said to Cayla. “So don’t you go trying it. Even if cats do land on their feet.”
“I’m not a cat, I’m a jaguar,” she said primly. “As an apex predator, we don’t need to climb trees.”
“Too right.”
“Wait a minute,” Cooper said. “You’re saying you fell seventy feet, through a roof, and walked away with literally just a scratch?”
“Actually, the scratch came later.” He shrugged. “My coat protected me.”
Fur coat, Cooper realized from Park’s overly casual tone. He tried to imagine a child wolf-shaped Park plummeting through a barn roof, but he’d never even seen an adult wolf-shaped Park. He always left Cooper’s apartment to do his necessary daily shifts, and usually returned before Cooper woke up. Cooper never asked where he went or why he didn’t just do it in the apartment, not wanting to seem voyeuristic, and Park never mentioned it.
“So if the jump didn’t do it, where did the scar come from?” Dean asked.
“Well, while my siblings were laughing their butts off at me my youngest brother decided to give it a try and climbed up the tree.”
Beside Cooper, Sophie whispered, “Crap,” near silently under her breath.
“Indeed,” Park agreed. “He freaked out at the top and couldn’t get down. I noticed first and went up to get him. He had dug his claws into the trunk and would not let go no matter what.”
Cooper’s eyes widened, and he glanced at the others to see if they were confused by Park’s casual reference to his brother’s claws. But no one blinked, probably accepting it as creative imagery.
“I probably should have tried to talk to him down, but I was impatient. So I just yanked him off and he lost it. Sliced my lip right open.”
“Poor kid,” Sophie said. “Both of you. Did you get down okay?”
“I managed not to toss him. Barely.”
“And I bet you’ve never let him forget it.” Dean laughed.
Park grinned, and the scar disappeared. “Made a speech all about it at his wedding last year. Speaking of which, when’s the big day?”
And just like that the conversation shifted away from him and the wall of privacy was firmly back in place. Now, that was more like the Park Cooper knew and—well, knew.
“Oh, not till the spring,” Sophie said. “That’s plenty of time to get those pesky last-minute details done, like booking a caterer, buying a dress, settling on a venue. You know, background stuff.”
“I’m going to be the ring bear,” Cayla said.
“That’s right, you are. Which reminds me, put ‘get rings’ on the to-do list, Sophe,” Dean said. Sophie gave him a thumbs-up.
“I have my outfit ready,” Cayla added proudly. “Do you want to see, Uncle Cooper?”
“Ah, sure?” He didn’t spend any time around kids besides Ava, and with her they only ever talked about Boogie. Still, Cayla seemed pleased as she scurried away—easily escaping the
bench, lucky girl—and disappeared upstairs.
“I think she’s trying to shame us with her preparedness,” Dean said thoughtfully. “Oliver, consider yourself invited. You have until May to come up with an embarrassing anecdote about one of us to tell for a toast.”
Park glanced at Cooper with a strange expression on his face but laughed—not his usual deep rumble, something lighter and forced. “Challenge accepted. So how did you two meet?”
Sophie refilled Cooper’s wineglass and then her own. “Someone broke into the clinic and stole Diazepam. I reported it, and Deputy Sheriff Dayton here showed up.”
“In retrospect I probably shouldn’t have tried to tough out my cat allergy by insisting on searching the overnight kennel myself. But fortunately she goes for the eyes-swollen-shut type.”
“Could have been you, Coop,” Ed said. “They used to date, you know,” he told Park.
“For like a week,” Cooper muttered. “We were twelve. Dating just meant we were awkward and stopped talking to each other more than anything else.”
Park snorted. “Sounds familiar.”
Ed leaned forward like he wanted to hear more about that, but Sophie said, “Um, excuse me, it was more like a month, Dayton. But maybe yeah, that was because we were too busy avoiding each other to do the actually breaking up. Okay, point. Still, you will always be my first love.”
She grabbed his hand and fluttered her eyelashes at him absurdly. Cooper laughed. He was surprised how nice it was to be around Sophie again. He didn’t think he’d missed her. Not actively for twenty plus years, obviously. But there was something soothing about being around her again.
“Now that would have been a good story.” Ed pointed his fork at Cooper. “Childhood sweethearts find each other again.”
The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 7
