Born to Be Wild: Welcome to Paradise, Book 3 (14 page)

He let out a savage curse. “You realize how frustrating it is that I can’t even tell my best friend about us? Yeah, I know Wyatt has a big mouth, but he’s still my buddy and I’ve been lying to him for months about how I spend my nights. I’m sick and tired of keeping us a secret, all because you’re too scared to tell the mayor that you’re spending all your time in a shitty cabin with the town loser.”

Agony flooded her eyes. “You’re not a loser. God, you’re…you’re the best man I’ve ever met.”

“Then why are you so ashamed to tell your family about us?” he muttered.

“I’ll tell them soon,” she whispered. “I promise.”

“How soon?”

Indecision crossed her beautiful face.

Cooper jabbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and took a step away from her. “Fine. You want a deadline? How about tomorrow night? Come with me to the Lodge. It’s a Saturday night, so half the town will be there.”

She looked alarmed. “And what, we hold hands, go overboard on the PDA, announce to everyone that we’re a couple?”

“Yes.”

“And if I say no?”

Cooper tamped down the frustration climbing up his throat. He might have preached to Jake Bishop about ultimatums, but at the moment, he didn’t care about being a hypocrite. He and Lexie had been seeing each other on the sly for nearly a year. Other than those two months of space he’d allowed her after he’d slept with Maddie Wilson, they’d spent every night together. So fuck, maybe it
was
time for a drastic move.

“Then this thing between us is over,” he said roughly. “Either we’re a couple, or we’re not. And I mean a
real
couple. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d like the woman I’m with to greet me with a big smile and a big fucking kiss when we see each other on the street.”

Guilt dug a crease into her forehead, and her pulse throbbed in the aristocratic column of her throat. “It can’t be tomorrow night,” she finally said, her voice wobbly. “My family and I are having dinner at the Lockharts.”

Cooper waited, but after several seconds ticked by, he stopped holding his breath for an invite.

Lexie must have seen the hurt and anger in his eyes, because her voice grew desperate. “A family event isn’t the place to announce our relationship, Coop. It’ll already be tense enough with the Lockharts there. My dad and Tanner Lockhart can’t stand each other half the time.”

He let her spout excuses, then drew in a calming breath and looked her square in the eye. “Invite me to dinner, Lex.”

Her lips tightened in dismay.

“Invite me to dinner,” he repeated, his tone containing a dose of barely-restrained anger.

She opened her mouth. A shaky breath flew out. Then, “I can’t.”

He didn’t anticipate the blast of agony that slammed into his chest. He hadn’t realized just how badly he’d wanted her to say yes.

Trying not to choke on the pain burning his throat, he said, “And if I tell you I love you? Will that change your mind about inviting me?”

Shock filled her face. “You…love me?”

“Yes,” he said simply. “Probably makes me a total fool, but I do.”

The silence that resulted was so deafening he could hear the frantic pounding of Lexie’s heart. His own pulse raced just as fast, his palms unusually damp as he waited for her to say something. To say anything.

But actions spoke louder than words, and when she took a backward step, he knew he’d lost.

“I…I can’t do this right now,” she whispered. “I need to…think.”

His jaw went stiffer than a two-by-four. “All you do is think. You think and nitpick and analyze. For once in your life, can’t you just feel?” A hot wave of frustration set fire to his insides. “How do you
feel
, Lex? About me? About us?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded very small and forlorn.

“Yes you do,” he snapped. “You know exactly how you feel, but you’re just too chicken-shit to admit it. To face it.” Cooper’s breaths came out in sharp pants. “Go.”

Her gaze flew to his. “What?”

“Go,” he repeated. “I’m not gonna stand around listening to you
think
. We’re done here.”

“Coop—”

“I don’t know how else to say it—I want you to leave, princess.” He stalked to the door, pausing only to shoot her a dark look over his shoulder. “And here’s a heads up—when a man tells you he loves you, the correct response is
I love you, too
. But I guess I was a real fucking idiot for thinking you’d have the guts to say it back, huh?”

“Coop—”

“Goodbye, Lexie.”

Chapter Nine

Jake couldn’t believe he was doing this. Dinner with the Lockharts. And the Prices. In Bree’s fancy-ass mansion. And he was wearing an honest-to-God suit.

Jesus.

As he parked his truck on the circular driveway in front of the Lockhart mansion, he had to wonder if maybe he’d seriously lost his mind. Maybe the mission gnawing at his insides had gnawed away a few brain cells too. When he’d bid on Bree at the auction, he’d been looking for sex. A good time and a nice distraction. Instead, he felt like he’d gotten a solid thump on the gut with a baseball bat. Somehow, over this past week, he’d stopped thinking of Bree in terms of how many bone-melting orgasms she could give him, but of how many times he could make her smile. How many times
she
made
him
smile.

The hot rush of emotion swimming in his chest was completely unfamiliar. So was this sudden eagerness to please. Both Owen and Maddie had teased him mercilessly when he’d come by to borrow that suit—thank God for identical twins with identical measurements. As he’d put on the monkey suit, Jake tried convincing himself that it was no biggie, that dinner with the Lockharts didn’t mean a damn thing. It was just a way to appease Bree and persuade her to continue the affair once she returned to Denver.

But he was kidding himself. This didn’t feel like an affair. When he was with Bree, his chest felt so light it was a miracle he didn’t float away. When she looked at him, she didn’t see one of the bad boy Bishop brothers. And when he opened his mouth, she actually listened, acted like he had something truly worthwhile to say.

Which made him wonder if the reason he didn’t talk much was because deep down he believed nobody cared about what he said. Was clamming up a protective instinct? Keep your mouth shut so nothing potentially stupid could come out?

He stared the pillared entrance of the mansion, then at the expensive cars parked in the driveway. Bree’s Lexus. A Range Rover, the cherry-red Corvette Tanner Lockhart always bragged about. The mayor’s Mercedes. Two BMWs that probably belonged to Lexie’s sisters. Then he glanced at his beat-up pickup, the same truck he’d driven since high school.

Shit, he didn’t belong here, just like his pickup didn’t belong amidst those fancy ass cars.

He was two seconds from sprinting back to his truck when a car engine caught his attention. He turned and spotted Lexie Price’s shiny BMW pulling in.

The relief that pounded into him was so strong he nearly keeled right over.

“Thank God you’re here,” he blurted once Lexie slid out of the car.

Her mouth fell open. “Wow. I must be dreaming, because I think I just heard Jake Bishop say he was
glad
to see me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Wait—what are you doing here?”

He gulped. “Bree invited me.”

“She did?”

Her visible shock irked him. “Yes, she did. We’re…dating.”

“You are?”

“Stop questioning every goddamn thing I say, Lexie. Just…just walk inside with me before I lose my nerve and bolt, okay?”

“Maybe we should just bolt together,” she answered with a sigh.

Jake frowned, suddenly noticing how…
off
she looked. She wore her usual designer digs, a sleek black dress beneath her long wool coat, red pumps, a strand of pearls. Her hair was perfectly knotted at her nape, her flawless features boasting very little makeup. But her eyes? Bleak. Sad, even. And her normally graceful posture was MIA—her shoulders were slumped as if she had a heavy weight bearing down on them.

“You okay?” he asked quizzically.

“Not really. Which is why I’m tempted to blow off this dinner altogether.”

So was Jake, but he didn’t dare. When he pictured the disappointment that would fill Bree’s dark blue eyes if he bailed, his heart actually squeezed. No, he couldn’t do that to her, not after she’d so easily given him her trust.

“I think neither of us has a choice,” he said through a slow exhale. “So let’s man up and do this thing.”

A hint of a smile played on her lips. “Yes, sir.”

He stood off to the side as Lexie lifted the ornate, old-fashioned doorknocker. When the double doors swung open and Bree appeared in the doorway, some of his nervousness dimmed. She wore a simple emerald green dress that swirled over her bare knees, and she’d tied her black hair into a low ponytail, styled in a way that allowed wispy strands to frame her face. No make-up, save for shiny pink gloss that coated her lush lips and made Jake’s mouth tingle with the urge to kiss her.

“You came,” she said, sounding so delighted that he felt a spark of guilt for even considering bailing.

“I said I would,” he said gruffly.

Their eyes locked and the warmth of her gaze wrapped around him like a gentle embrace. Then Bree turned to Lexie. “Hey, Lexie. Your parents and sisters are already here.” She gestured for both of them to enter. “Come inside, everyone’s in the sitting room.”

As they walked into the massive front parlor, Jake realized that this was the first time he’d stepped foot inside Bree’s childhood home. White marble spanned beneath the dress shoes he’d borrowed from his twin, the white walls gleamed under the light of a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and the place boasted not one, but two spiral staircases on either side of the space, each one leading to the second floor.

After a uniformed housekeeper came to take their coats, Bree led them to a wide doorway off to the left and into a large room boasting plush off-white couches, a wet bar and a fireplace Jake could probably walk into without ducking. He wasn’t sure why they called it a sitting room—looked like a regular old living room to him—but he didn’t dare ask. Considering the size of the house, it probably featured several more rooms like this, all with various rich-people labels.

Everyone in the room stared at him when he walked in.
Stared
at him.

Jake had never felt so damn uncomfortable, and not even the feel of Bree’s hand sliding into his could ease his nerves.

“Relax, it’ll be fine,” Bree murmured. She turned to their audience. “Everyone, this is Jake Bishop.”

As Jake stood there fidgeting, Bree made all the introductions. Brandon and Miranda Price eyed him with visible confusion as he shook their hands. Lexie’s sisters, Ava and Alyssa, were damn near smirking at him. Tanner Lockhart was frowning. And Bree’s mother Barbara looked at him with such distaste that Jake wanted to run—not walk, but
run
—right outta there.

But he forced his feet to stay rooted to the shiny parquet floor. He’d promised Bree he’d make an effort, and he’d always been, above all, a man of his word.

Still, that didn’t mean he had any hope in hell that this dinner would be anything other than a big fucking disaster.

This dinner is a big fucking disaster.

Bree had tried to remain optimistic as the group made small talk in the sitting room. Tried to keep smiling as their housekeeper Marta herded everyone into the grand dining room the Lockharts only used when entertaining. Tried not to cringe when her mother shot her a look loaded with sheer disapproval. Tried not to scream when her father kept referring to Jake as “Bishop”.

But she was beginning to realize that no amount of smiling and peacekeeping attempts would make this night any better.

Her parents hated Jake. No, they
loathed
him. When she’d informed them earlier that Jake would be joining them, the only reason they hadn’t cancelled the whole damn shindig was because they hadn’t wanted to look bad in front of the Prices. They’d agreed to let Jake come, but apparently they were determined to make her pay for it.

By thoroughly humiliating Jake.

She had to give him credit. He’d held his ground when her dad inquired as to why Jake hadn’t gone to college. Smiled politely when Barbara mentioned how fortunate Jake’s brother Nate and his wife Charlotte were to have found a mate that came from a similar background—translation: the son of the town carouser and the daughter of the town whore were made for each other. Jake even laughed it off when the mayor commented that the military ought to pay soldiers more considering they were getting shot at all the time.

By the time dessert was served, she’d actually begun to believe that she and Jake might get out of this unscathed. She couldn’t help but feel proud of the way he handled himself as he sat through uncomfortable questions and veiled attacks, but it wasn’t until her father made yet another jab at Jake’s lack of higher education that Bree realized she was feeling more than pride.

You love him
.

Her wine glass stopped halfway to her mouth.