Games We Play (22 page)

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, hanging up, choosing the shorter solution to ending this thing. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his night on the phone discussing fire alarms. He pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, spent a few minutes in the rest room, slid his feet into a pair of sneakers, and grabbed a spare battery he kept on hand. He made his way across the street. Celeste met him at the door, dressed in a T-shirt, which she’d apparently slept in, and a tiny pair of shorts.

He entered her home, walking past her and over to the kitchen, where he found the alarm in exactly the same location where his smoke alarm was kept and replaced her battery. While he did it, he looked around her home, which was clean and tidy. No sign of smoke or a fire anywhere.

“Okay, it that doesn’t work, I’ll have someone replace it for you tomorrow. Let me know. No, on second thought, call Luis,” he said, correcting himself. “He’s the one you should call when you have problems. Do you have his number?”

“Yes.”

“Anything having to do with the maintenance of your rental is his responsibility.”

“Thanks, Cooper,” she said.

He waved as he left, but he didn’t look back as he made his way back home.

Having finished work for the day, Cooper pulled out of the pub’s parking lot and headed over to Myra’s for their usual Wednesday TV night. He turned onto 1341, scanning the streets as he drove. There were a lot of people out, shopping at the local shops, going to Ann’s for ice cream, heading to dinner, or whatever, all the usual daily-living stuff. It was a habit of his, this scanning the streets of Coopersville, watching out for the people in town, looking out for signs of trouble, making sure everything was as it should be.

He wasn’t the law, nor did he wish to be. He left the local law enforcement alone. He didn’t trust them much, a residual feeling from his childhood. He didn’t want to be tied to them; that reminded him too much of Senior, and how he had once exchanged money for favors.

He made the right onto Locust Street and moved his mind over to Kendall. He smiled. He’d seen her every day this week. She still refused to admit she liked his beer. True to his word, he’d brought over a new one each day for her to taste, and true to what he’d expected, she’d made some trite comment about each one before ordering her tea. The professor was nothing if not entertaining.

Tonight, if he was lucky, it would be her and him on the left side of Myra’s home, hidden from view by those two very large bushes growing there. If she wouldn’t come to him, he could work with coming to her, just as he done before. Yes, he would have preferred his bed, his home, but he could be flexible, inventive even. He could push her in between those two bushes and let nature take its course. He only needed a few minutes—five, ten tops.

He turned onto Myra’s street, noticing the increased energy pumping through his veins; it did that around her now—his blood picked up speed, his muscles flexed, and one muscle in particular was beside itself at the thought of having Kendall again, and it really didn’t care where. He laughed at himself, at this growing need for her, smiling as he turned into Myra’s drive.

Kendall was sitting in one of the chairs on the front porch, her bare feet propped up, searching the Internet for mobile homes up for resale. Hopefully that would be the cheapest way to proceed. She’d spent this week trailing around her aunt, the same as last week; the only difference was the recipients of Myra’s help.

Yesterday’s trip had been up to Austin to check out a woman living in one of Austin’s domestic-abuse shelters, and it was the reason behind her current search for a mobile home. Sandy, that was the woman’s name, had had to leave everything behind except her two little girls, and in a month her time at the Austin shelter would end. She needed help with everything, a place to live, a job, clothes, food, and furniture—the works. So here Kendall sat, at Myra’s request, searching for mobile homes on the Internet.

And she was back to her question of the source of Myra’s money, although she hadn’t brought it up to either Aunt Myra or Cooper. Purchasing a mobile home, renovating Sonny’s home, helping kids like Destiny meet their college financial obligations—well, it was quite a bill to foot.

She heard the sound of a car door being slammed and looked up. Barnabus was here for his weekly TV watching and sit-down with her aunt. She watched him from beneath her lashes as he made his way over.

She looked up as he stepped onto the porch, and her body did what it always did when she saw him up close—it started to transform itself into liquid. “Aunt Myra is in the back, getting ready for your weekly program,” she said, pleased that she at least appeared calm on the outside.

“You’re waiting on me?”

“In your dreams, Barnabus,” she said.

He laughed and sat down in the chair beside her, stretching his legs out in front of him. He was dressed in his usual way, shorts, T-shirt, sandals on his feet.

“Who is Celeste?” Kendall asked. It popped out of her mouth without any planning, and so much for Myra’s money concerns being at the top of her list.

“A new waitress at the pub.”

“Besides that. What is she to you?”

“Someone I used to know,” he said.

“As in, someone you’re getting to know again?” she asked.

“Nope. She’s an employee among many others employees of the pub.”

“An old girlfriend, though, right?”

“An old fiancée, actually,” he said, smiling as he turned to face her.

“Really,” she said, smiling back at him. “I like forthcoming men. Aunt Myra told me you’d probably come clean about her if I asked, that you had nothing to hide, and that’s good to know.”

“And it matters to you because…?”

“Curious. I mean, if I decided to hang out with you again—you know, not that I’m saying that I will, but if I did—I take my men one at time.”

“That’s good to know. It’s the same for me, in case you were wondering,” he said. He checked his watch. It was about time for him to head on inside, although he was quite comfortable sitting out here with her.

“You coming in?” he asked.

“You’re Myra’s support system, aren’t you?” Kendall asked.

“Yes, and so are Luis, Juan, and the Colonel, but you know that,” he said.

“I don’t mean in that way. I know you look after her. I have this other theory about you,” she said.

“Really,” he said, his gaze fixed on hers.

“Really,” she said, mimicking him. “I think you’re like the Papa Noelle of Coopersville,” she said.

“The who?”

“Santa Claus. The big man on campus, the foundation to help the poor and indigent.”

“What
are
you talking about?”

“I’ve spent the last two weeks following Myra around. I know where and how she spends her money, but I don’t think she’s alone in her goodwill trips.…She can’t be. It’s too much for her to be in it alone, at least financially. So who has the necessary funds to help her? You want to know what I think?”

“Not really.”

“I suspect it’s you. I think you’re the man who’s funding Aunt Myra’s causes. Are they your causes too?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.

“Really, and why don’t I believe that? It’s not a bad thing to want to help others, to use your money for good.”

“If that’s what I was doing, I’d agree with you,” he said.

She stared at him, disbelief visible in her eyes.

“It’s okay. I understand your need to remain anonymous. You have a lot of money, and it explains your gold-digger fixation. I can see the need to be guarded. But you can tell me, really. Why do you do it?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“Help?”

“There is no help.”

“Is it your way of proving to the town that you’re different from your ancestors? I’ve heard a lot about them, about this town and how it used to be. Cooper One and Two weren’t very nice men. Did you know they used to have Klan rallies around here?”

He didn’t say a word, but she noticed his jaw tighten.

“Or maybe this is your way of being in charge of the town too, just like your forefathers, taking up where they left off—slightly different, slightly kinder, yet everybody is beholden to you all the same.”

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll figure it out, and nobody is beholden to me,” he said, more forcefully than he’d intended.

“You mean that, don’t you?” she said, watching him, like a hawk does its prey. He didn’t reply.

“Why, then?” she asked.

“We’re back to that again?” he said, starting to get irritated.

“Why use the co-op as your business model, instead of a sole proprietorship? You would be the sole person making the decisions, you’d get to keep all of the money for yourself, and you wouldn’t have to answer to anyone,” she said.

“That’s not it at all, Professor. The way I see it is that if I fail, the whole town fails. I won’t be the only one left responsible. What’s the fun in failing by yourself when you can take others along with you?” he said.

“Why can’t you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“That you’re one of the good guys.”

“I’m not.”

“Luis says you are.”

“Luis talks more than he should.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said.

“Do I need to be a good guy for you?” he asked.

“Yes. How could it hurt?”

“You’d let me screw you again if I was a good guy?”

“You did already, but whatever, be difficult. How about we forget I said anything,” she said, exasperated and starting to get irritated too.

“It’s forgotten,” he said, standing up.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt to allow me to get to know you better if you want me to consider hanging out with you again,” she added.

He watched her for a second, looking down at her, considering.

“The first time, in the clubhouse…hell, even last week in my truck, you really didn’t know me at all. But that’s beside the point, and as much as I would like that, you shouldn’t have any illusions about me. I’m a small-town dude who brews beer in his backyard and makes his living selling it. I never even went to college. That’s the sum total of B.L. Cooper. I’m not some do-gooder out to save the world, so don’t go reading anything into something that’s not there.”

“I’ve seen otherwise,” she said.

He shook his head like he was disappointed in her. “Fine, Professor. You think you know me,” he said, and smiled at her, a little menacing this time. “So you’ll think about it?”

“Think about what?” she asked, standing up now, facing him.

“Hanging out with me for the summer?” he said.

“Maybe.”

“But only if you deem me what?” he said, and dropped all traces of the smile. His demeanor had moved to serious. “Giving away my money does it for you, then? You’re a different kind of gold digger, I guess. You prefer men who give their money away, like some Robin Hood. It’s a little kinky, but whatever gets you off, and if it’s like that, then we’re back to square one. Do I need to be something other than what I am?”

“No.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said, looking at her like he’d done that night in his gator when he’d accused her of pursuing her aunt’s money.

“You are a special kind of dick. Do you know that? And I bet you think you’re slick, turning this around on me,” she said.

He was silent for a second or two, and
surprised
was a mild word for how he felt about her response. He laughed then, a loud bark of sound. She was no pushover, the professor. The anger that had come from out of nowhere dissipated just as quickly, replaced by this overwhelming desire to lay the professor bare and consume her—right here, right now. He took in a breath of air, anything to distract him from this fierce urgency to bend her over the porch railing.

“You coming in?” he asked instead, a small smile on his face.

“Short-fused and crazy, add
that
to your list of qualities, why don’t you?” she said, eyeing him like he’d suddenly grown two heads. His smile widened, but he didn’t say a word, just stared at her with some serious heat in his eyes. She cleared her throat.

“No, not tonight, crazy man. I’ve got to finish my mobile-home search,” she said.

He smiled, opened the screen door, and stepped inside.

H
e didn’t take in a minute of the show tonight; his mind was nowhere near the TV. He’d left it sitting on the porch beside Kendall. All he could think about was her body in various poses, all nude of course, and he’d have to do better at controlling his temper, or he’d never have the opportunity to have her again. “You’re a special kind of dick,” she’d said. He laughed out loud again, intrigued by the woman who thought to stand up to him, caught off guard too. All that teasing at the pub was so enticing and sexy as hell, and he loved the way she challenged him. He was so ready for more.

Myra looked over at him, like he was losing his mental faculties, and maybe he was. He’d taken to watching the professor whenever he could now. He hoped he wasn’t too obvious, but he watched her as she followed Myra around, helping her aunt. She was so very different from Celeste, so different from the many other women he’d dated. Anyway, the professor’s helpfulness was attractive, or maybe he was just thinking with his other head, which hadn’t let him rest since he’d tasted her in the trailer and in the backseat of his truck. He wanted the professor again so badly he could taste it.

No more getting angry
, it said again,
you will not screw this up for us
.
You are going to apologize to her again tonight before you leave
. He chuckled again.

“You alright, Cooper?” Myra asked.

“I am,” he said, smiling. If he wasn’t now, he would be soon.

Kendall stood up, stretching her legs. She’d found a few mobile homes nearby, and she was going to drag Myra to the mobile-home park to check them out, maybe even as early as tomorrow. She stood on the front porch, thinking about
him
, of course, and his response to her questions. So defensive and touchy when it came to money. Yes, she understood his reasoning—after all, there were many women like her mother—but still, what a way to live a life, distrusting any and every one.