Cooper frowned. “You’re not impatient at all. Or if you are, you’ve been doing a really good job hiding that from me.”
“Hey, I never said I was bad at dissembling. That’s my jam.” Park smiled. “But when there’s something I really want, I’m very impatient. I think you know that.”
He gave Cooper an intense look and caught his fingers, massaging the knuckles. Cooper exhaled softly as tendrils of pleasure shot up his arm and heat flooded his face.
“I have plenty of my own flaws, Cooper. And I’m definitely not a superhero,” Park added softly.
“Oh. Okay,” Cooper said. He cleared his throat. “But you are saying you’re magical then?”
Park quirked his lips in an aborted grin. “Does that sound like something I would say?” He leaned forward, and Cooper tilted his chin up instinctively, his eyes drifting closed.
Park brushed their lips together so gently Cooper could swear he felt each individual nerve ending shared their own private kiss. They both inhaled each other’s scent and taste for a moment before Cooper nudged Park’s cheek with his nose, nuzzling the unshaven skin there, and Park surged forward and took Cooper’s mouth in a real kiss. Cooper groaned and Park’s tongue took advantage of the opening and explored his mouth as if frantically making sure everything was how he’d left it and yes, okay, there was that impatience he’d mentioned. He rubbed his body against Park’s, and felt the first flickers of arousal deep inside spark to life shockingly fast.
It had been too long. Why did he risk pushing this away?
Speaking of which. Suddenly he felt himself shoved gently but decidedly backward and cool air against his flushed skin where Park’s hands and body and lips had been a moment before. His eyes fluttered open. Park was now sitting on the trundle bed, looking rumpled, aroused, and a little predatory.
“What—” Cooper started, then heard the soft knock on the door. He jumped, called, “Yes?” and winced at the nervous pitch in his voice.
“Coop?” His dad opened the door just as Cooper started forward, and Ed stepped back into the hall, startled. “Ah, hey, boys.” Ed glanced over Cooper’s shoulder at Park and then back at Cooper. Under his arm were some clothes. “I thought you probably didn’t bring anything decent to wear for tomorrow. Can’t have you fishing in a monkeysuit. Besides, it’s already getting cold in the morning, on the water.”
Cooper blinked at Ed without comprehension, his brain still meandering its way back from that conversation. Who was he kidding, he was just thinking about the kiss.
“Tomorrow? You don’t seriously still want to go fishing,” he said finally. “Dad, they just finished pulling our dead neighbor out of the backyard.”
“Yeah, bad business,” Ed muttered.
“Worse than bad. It’s very bad, as in seriously no good. What did the agents talk to you about?”
Ed brushed him off. “Nothing. Just the same basic questions they had before.”
“Nothing new?” Cooper pushed. “Why did they keep us separate then?”
“Nah, you know how it is. They just have to follow procedure.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Cooper. Now, c’mon. When was the last time you got some fresh air?”
“Today. Maybe you missed me—I was the one in a blue shirt, digging up the murder victim.”
Ed gave him a hard look. “That has nothing to do with us as your colleagues will see soon enough. Here. For Dean’s sake.” He held up the clothes. “I pulled up some of your old stuff from the basement. It wouldn’t hurt to air overnight, mind.”
Cooper took the green cargo pants and huge red-and-black fleece button-down and stared at them dumbly. The soft, fuzzy shirt unlocked countless memories of tucking his chin into the warm collar while standing, fingers red and wrapped loosely around a pole in angry silence with his dad and Dean. Hating being dragged on these stupid “be a man” bonding trips. Resenting the painful charade of forced togetherness that just emphasized the gaping hole his mom had left in the family.
“I haven’t worn this since high school,” he murmured.
“Well, it doesn’t look like you’ve outgrown it.” Ed laughed his awkward laugh, but it sounded even more off than usual. He was uncomfortable. Why? Cooper suddenly remembered that Park wasn’t the only person he’d fought with today. Except he didn’t owe his father an apology. And he certainly didn’t expect one in return.
“Why’d you keep this?” he said.
Ed rubbed his big hand over the back of his neck. “DC isn’t so far. I thought you might want to take the boat out some weekends. Didn’t want you carting stuff back and forth.”
Cooper shifted the clothing in hands. “Right, uh, thanks.”
His dad leaned past him again. “I don’t think any of Cooper’s clothes would fit you, Oliver.”
Park was still sitting on the trundle bed pawing through his carryall. He flapped a hand. “Not a problem at all. I don’t want to intrude. I can stay here.”
“No,” Cooper and Ed said at the same time, and then glanced at each other, embarrassed. Cooper wondered if Ed was as reluctant to be alone together as he was after the awkwardness of that afternoon.
“Okay,” Park said after a strained pause. “Well, I packed some jeans.”
“Great,” Ed said, smiling under his mustache.
“Dad, what about—”
“You boys get to bed. Dean will be here at 4:30 sharp.” Ed slapped the doorframe with finality, looking more like himself for the first time in hours. “Coop, don’t make me come in here and drag your ass out of bed. As usual.”
Cooper closed the door and listened to his father’s footsteps down the hall. At some point they had turned from a stomp to a shuffle. When? After his retirement? After this afternoon?
Cooper looked at Park, who had lain back on the trundle and was watching him with his hands beneath his head like some kind of emperor on his divan. He looked wildly out of place in this room on Cooper’s faded plaid sheets.
“I should—” He gestured at the door vaguely and then turned out the lights and stripped, feeling Oliver’s gaze on him. He hesitated, then climbed into his own bed. There really wasn’t room for the two of them in a twin, but this time he let his arm hang over the edge. Park grabbed his hand and rubbed his knuckles gently.
“Sorry about that. Before, I mean,” Cooper whispered.
“It’s fine. It would have been a mistake anyway.”
Cooper twitched.
“I mean, with your father down the hall,” Park said.
“Yeah, true. Well, we’ve got small creatures to be pointlessly and horrifically cruel to before dawn so.” Cooper punched his pillow and then kept punching it more because it felt good rather than any real attempt to improve the fluffiness. The mattress suddenly dipped behind him with a groan, and Park slid into the bed next to him.
“You’re joking,” Cooper said, which came out more like a wheeze as half of Park’s significant body was now overlapping his own. “This isn’t physically possible.”
“Shhh.” Then, “I’m magical, remember?”
Cooper’s elbow jerked neatly into Park’s ribs, and he got a thrill of satisfaction hearing Park’s grunt. He said, “Yeah, well, feel free to saw yourself in half any minute now, Houdini.”
Park repositioned himself and Cooper winced, self-conscious of all the sounds the old springs were making, though surely if Ed heard he wouldn’t think that both Cooper and Park were in the same bed. Cooper was living it and he could barely fathom the idea.
Park finally settled them both on their sides, and pulled Cooper’s back to his front. “Ta-da,” he said.
Cooper rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away, mostly because there was nowhere to go. The warmth and weight of Park’s body acted like a sedative, and his thoughts started to slow.
“Cooper?”
&nbs
p; “Hmm?”
“I think you’re pretty magical, too,” Park whispered into his hair.
Cooper twisted away and tucked his nose into the crook of Park’s forearm, the hair there tickling his nose. “Did I forget to mention you’re also an idiot?” Cooper said into his skin, and then wriggled deeper so Park wouldn’t see what he was positive was a hideously dopey smile.
Chapter Six
“You’re losing him!”
Cooper bit his lip to prevent himself from yelling back at his dad.
“Pull back and then reel in when you drop your ro—”
“I know!”
“You know, but you aren’t doing anything about it.”
Cooper ignored his dad and looked back at Park, who had planted himself against the wall of the small cabin at the bow of the deadrise. The sun was just starting to rise and Park’s face was shiny with sea spray. Which was impressive considering he had flatly refused to go near any edge of the boat since they’d pulled out of Bell’s Marina pre-dawn. Cooper felt a bit bad not picking up on Park’s unease when they’d arrived, but he’d been too busy feeling uneasy himself being back at the marina and awash with old memories. His fear, anger, pain...
The sudden give in his arms pulled Cooper’s attention back to his rod.
“You lost it,” Ed said. “At this rate we’ll be going home empty-handed.”
“We always go home empty-handed,” Cooper muttered, and pulled his line in. Ever since he could remember, his dad had taught them to throw the fish back. But then his memory wasn’t proving very reliable these days. “Hey, did you ever fish with Mr. Hardwick?”
In his periphery Cooper could see Dean jerk his head. Ed was suddenly focusing hard on picking out a new lure in his tackle box and didn’t look up. “No. Not really. He wasn’t the fishing type. I—”
“I don’t think Oliver is either,” Dean interrupted, and Cooper resisted the childish urge to kick him. All morning Dean had been derailing any conversation Cooper had tried to have about Hardwick, his body, or the events of yesterday. And his dad was letting him.
“Are you sure he doesn’t want to join us? I brought an extra rod,” Ed said.
Dean snorted. “I’m pretty sure a lack of equipment is not what’s stopping him. Right, Coop?” He elbowed him.
“Ow. What the hell? What are you talking about?”
Dean just shrugged and winked. Cooper frowned, confused, and looked back at Park, who was now sitting on the deck looking like the cabin wall was the only thing holding him up. He felt a wave of guilt for asking Park to come with him just because he wanted a buffer between him and his dad. Of course Park didn’t like fishing. Who the hell did?
“Uh, I’m just going to...” He gestured vaguely and went to rebait his hook by Park. “Hey, you good?”
Park gave him a thumbs-up but didn’t move or speak. He had one cheek pressed against the cold fiberglass, and when Cooper sat next to him he could see Park’s face was wet with sweat, not saltwater.
“Sure you don’t want to give it a go?” Cooper said quietly.
Park shook his head quickly, froze, then breathed in deeply through his nose.
“You’ll feel better if you move around. You can use my rod. It’s all ready to go.”
“I’ll tell you exactly where you can shove your rod,” Park bit out.
“Joke’s on you, I like that sort of thing.”
Park’s lips tightened in an imitation of a smile. He murmured, “I think I may need to admit something to you.”
“Basketball isn’t the only thing you’re bad at?” Cooper guessed.
“When you said fishing, I didn’t know you meant on a boat.”
“Well. It is Maryland,” Cooper said. Park looked at him then, expression difficult to tell behind the sunglasses he wore despite the overcast sky. But Cooper could guess. “Er, sorry. Do you not like boats?”
Park took another breath through his nose and pressed his cheek back against the cabin wall. “Boats? Boats are fine. It’s the water that’s the problem. Bays are supposed to be calm, placid, not...this.”
“It can get kind of choppy,” Cooper agreed. “It’s because the water is so shallow. That plus the wind makes a short duration, which basically means the time between waves are shorter than out on the ocean where waves are more spaced out.”
“Please stop saying the ‘w’ word.”
Cooper’s eyes widened, thinking Park meant werewolf for a moment before grinning. “What word, water? Wind? Wave?”
Park groaned and fully turned to press his whole face against the cabin. His words were muffled. “Cooper, I love you, but if you don’t shut up I’m seriously going to punch you and then vomit all over you.”
“Kinky,” Cooper choked out.
Suddenly he felt pale and sweaty himself.
“I should, uh, get back there. I’ve been trying to ask my dad about Hardwick for two hours and Dean keeps cutting me off,” he babbled. “I don’t get what his problem is. He’s saying all sorts of bullshit. Well, anyway.”
He tripped over himself jumping to his feet and stumbled away. Speaking of words they didn’t say... But of course Park had been joking. Not to mention half delirious with seasickness.
Cooper certainly couldn’t take it as a declaration of love. That would be insane. Totally ridiculous.
“Back so soo—what are you grinning about?” Ed said.
“What? Nothing. I’m not.” Cooper shook his head.
“Hmm. Couldn’t convince him, huh?”
“He’s not really feeling the water.”
“Should we turn back?” Dean said.
“Umm,” Cooper hesitated. He didn’t want to lose this opportunity to find out more about the neighbor. He also knew Park would be unhappy if he thought they’d turned around solely for him. But he hated seeing Park unwell. “Maybe give it ten minutes and then we’ll see?”
That’d give him time to come up with some excuse and make it look like they’d needed to turn around for another reason. Honestly, Park seemed so inexperienced with being on the water Cooper could probably just tell him the fish were all swimming toward land to hit up the diner for breakfast and he’d buy it.
“Sure, ten minutes. He just needs to find his sea legs,” Ed said.
“Maybe,” Cooper said doubtfully. “So what did you mean, not really? When you said Mr. Hardwick and you never went fishing.”
Ed’s eyes slid away from Cooper. “We may have gone once. I don’t know, Coop—it was over twenty-five years ago and we weren’t exactly friends.”
“You weren’t? Did you say that to the agents yester—”
Dean interrupted. “Timber!” Cooper turned around to see Park now keeled over on his side and his own stomach flipped in sympathy for the first time that morning.
Poor Oliver. Cooper took a step toward him, then stopped. He wanted to go over there and pull Park into his lap, but that wouldn’t be helpful. Or go unnoticed by his family.
“Dad, don’t we have some Dramamine in the cabin?” Dean asked, also watching Park.
“I don’t think so.”
“No, I think I tucked some in there for Sophe a while ago,” Dean argued. “Not that she needed it. Better sea legs than me. But I think I left it here somewhere. Come look with me, Coop.”
“What? I have no clue where it is. Why can’t you do it?” Cooper felt oddly reluctant to let Park out of his sight.
“I need your help looking. You’re the fancy investigative agent.”
“You’re a deputy!”
“It’s for your—ah, your friend.” Dean stumbled over the word just slightly and Cooper hesitated, his pulse picked up speed, and he felt a sudden prickling of anxiety at the back of his neck.
Was that why Dean was acting so weird? Why he kept redirecting the conversation toward Park? Had he n
oticed something between them? Did he think he knew something?
“Fine. Let’s go look for some Dramamine.” Cooper stomped into the cabin with Dean following behind.
“So.” He crossed his arms, felt defensive, put his hands on his hips, felt stupid and slapped his palms together loudly. “What did you want to talk about oh so unsubtly?”
“Stop clapping. Why do you keep hassling Dad?”
“What?”
“Why do you keep asking Dad about Mr. Hardwick?”
Cooper scrambled to readjust. “Well, let me think, for one thing his murdered body just got pulled out from under Mom’s gazebo.”
“And?” Dean said.
“And I’m writing a feature article for Home and Garden on flesh for fertilizer. What the hell do you mean and? And I’m curious as to how that happened, obviously.”
“So what does that have to do with Dad?”
“Dean, you were there yesterday. You saw how they were looking at him. Not just the agents, but the department, too. His ex-men. Your coworkers.”
“They’ll get over it.”
“You also saw how he was acting.”
Now it was Dean’s turn to cross his arms. “So what, you think he killed Hardwick?”
“Of course not,” Cooper hissed. “But honestly? If I didn’t know him, he’d be pretty high up my suspect list. The guy was buried in our backyard. He was murdered with Dad’s hoe. Dad keeps going all squirrelly every time they ask him a question. The man who remembers exactly how many strikeouts I had in sixth-grade Little League suddenly can’t remember what year he built a gazebo?”
Dean frowned. “How do you know that? About the hoe.”
“I, uh—I heard them talking about it.” Cooper hesitated, but Dean needed to start taking this seriously. “I also heard something else. They’re trying to say Dad killed him because Hardwick had a thing for Mom.”
Dean sucked his teeth, turned away, and started opening some of the cabin drawers.
“I know. I felt the same way. But it doesn’t matter if it’s crazy or not, as long as Dad keeps acting like this will all just disappear by the time we land, things are going to get ugly.”
The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 11
