It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel) (17 page)

That sounded like a plan. She’d get herself “date ready,” then she could figure out where to relocate. Preferably somewhere with a large dating pool.

Coop, Cal, and Butch hammered away at the new cabinets in Ella’s bathroom. Coop had to admit, it was turning out nice. Probably an upgrade he should’ve made a long time ago. Then again, he’d never shared the cabin with a woman before, so the need for another bathroom hadn’t registered in his alpha-male brain.

He’d spent so much time trying to avoid Ella the past month that he didn’t know when he started to
like
her presence at the cabin. Didn’t recall when her being there every night and every morning when he
woke had filled him with contentedness and satisfaction. It brought him security and comfort. Warmth spread through his chest every time he walked through the front door and smelled her shampoo or that gourmet coffee that she fussed over several times a day. Apparently, it was
the only thing the confounded woman knew how to make in the kitchen besides a bowl of sugar-laden cereal.

He placed a nail against a stud and aimed the hammer at it.

Unfortunately, the summer was almost half over, and Ella wouldn’t have the chance to use her new space for very long because she’d be moving to destinations unknown.

The hammer connected with his thumb instead of the nail. He howled, dropping the hammer to grab his purpling thumb.

“Go put some ice on it,” Butch said. “We’ll finish up.”

Coop descended the spiral wrought-iron staircase two steps at a time, holding the throbbing thumb. At the bottom, he came to a halt, his feet rooted to the floor.

Ella’s suitcase sat at the door, handle up, ready to be wheeled out to the car. Away from him. Only for the weekend, but eventually, she’d roll that same suitcase out to the car and never return.

The same scene played through his mind from his childhood. The arguing between his mom and dad; her tears. A lot of tears. And her begging Coop to move to California with her.

He’d stayed with Butch. Listened when Butch gave her updates on their son’s baseball games, schoolwork, friends. But Coop wouldn’t get on the phone and speak to her himself. When she came back to Albuquerque just to see him, he sat sullen on the sofa, refusing to speak or look at her. And he never accepted her invitations to visit her in California, especially not after she remarried.

He tore his gaze away from the luggage when Ella walked down the hall and into the den.

“What happened?” Her voice pitched high, green eyes rounded.

“Apparently, you have to be coordinated to use a hammer.” Coop glowered at his hand.

“You need ice.” She ran to the freezer and scooped up a handful of ice. He followed her into the kitchen as she threw the cubes into a baggy, added a little water, and grabbed a kitchen towel.

He leaned against the counter, still holding his pulsing thumb. It
hurt.

She stood in front of him in slim-cut jeans that hugged her long legs, and a T-shirt that said
I teach history. What’s your superpower?
When she reached for his hand, he let her have it. With a gentle touch, she placed the ice pack over his thumb and molded the cubes around his swelling digit. She wrapped his hand with the towel and held it between hers.

“You’ll probably lose the fingernail,” she said, looking up at him, and her warm breath washed over his cheeks. He stared down at her, his eyes raking her soft complexion and anchoring to her lips. On cue, the tip of her pink tongue slipped out and traced her plump bottom lip.

His pulse seemed to pound in unison with his thumb. “Fingernails are overrated,” he said. “I don’t need it.” But he was beginning to think he needed her.
No, I don’t.
She still loves Bradley, she’s leaving eventually, and
I’m . . . screwed
. He was stuck in a holding pattern until his name was cleared and he could go back to his life in Albuquerque. “It’ll be fine. I should get back upstairs.”

“Your thumb is the size of a sausage,” she said, and then turned a very sexy shade of pink.

Coop’s mouth quirked up.

Still cradling his wrapped hand in between hers, their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity. Their breath mingled, pulses quickened, and at the same moment, they swayed into each other.

The landline rang. Ella released his hand and stepped back.

He let out a ragged breath and snatched the phone off the bar. Ella grabbed a dishcloth and started wiping down the already-spotless counter.

He pressed the green button. “Hello?”

“Coop,” his attorney’s voice came through the line.

The ice taking effect, the throbbing started to numb, and he rested his wrapped hand on the counter. “Hey, Ang.”

Ella’s shoulders bristled, and she rubbed furiously at the imaginary dirt on the counter.

“I’ve got a positive update for you, buddy,” Angelique said.

Coop’s heart skipped, and his eyes stayed firmly on Ella. “I’m listening, Angelique.” Ella’s profile dimmed when he said Angelique’s name.

Huh. Was Ella jealous?

She tossed the rag on the counter, ignoring his stare. With quick strides, Ella hurried to the door and grabbed the suitcase. She threw her purse over one shoulder; found her car keys on the table, pink pepper spray bottle still dangling from them; and pushed through the screen door. The bag thudded against the worn wood planks as she wheeled it down the steps.

“Kim called my office and insinuated that she might be willing to drop the lawsuit if you’re still interested in her.”

“She’s crazy,” Coop said, going to the window to watch Ella drag the suitcase to her car. “How is that good news for me?”

“Dude, it makes her look really,
really
bad. I’m about to call her attorney and fill him in on her little innuendo. She’ll deny it, of course, but what she doesn’t know is my firm records calls if they’re flagged by the receptionist. And Kim Arrington’s name raised a flag the size of Texas.”

He didn’t want Ella to leave. Not yet. So he opened the screen door and let Winston and Atlas out. They ran to Ella, and she bent over to give them a good-bye scratch.

“That’s great, Ang. Listen, I gotta go. Keep me posted?”

“Will do, buddy.”

They clicked off, and Coop went outside, his hand resting against his chest.

“That was my attorney,” he said, walking over to Ella and their odd canine couple.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she gave him a nervous smile. She hugged both dogs while they licked at her cheeks.

“Hope it was good news,” she said, keeping her attention on the dogs.

He nodded. “I went to high school with Angelique. We never . . . she’s just a friend.”

“Coop, you don’t owe me any explanations.” Ella stood up, brushing off her clothes.

“I didn’t want you to think . . .” Why did it matter what she thought? Only, it did. It mattered very much to him, even though it shouldn’t. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and nodded. “It was good news.” He looked over the expansive, wooded property, the early afternoon sun heating the air enough for short sleeves.

“You’ll be okay without me?” she asked, and then her cheeks glowed pink again. “I mean because of your hand. I can stay in Red River if you need me.”

Yes, I need you. To stay.
His gaze dropped to her lips and they parted just a fraction, rounding into a tiny O.

That was all it took to crush the small sliver of self-control he’d been hanging on to since she’d been in his bed with her hands wandering all over him. What the hell? He didn’t have much left to lose. He closed the space between them, laced his towel-wrapped hand around her waist, and anchored his other hand at the back of her head.

Her mouth fell open, and her shimmering eyes rounded. He pulled her into a kiss. Urgent. Almost punishingly so. And she responded to it in kind, rising to the challenge, grabbing for him. Kissing him with feminine power until she softened against him and moaned her approval.

He tore his mouth from hers and looked down into her eyes, glittering with desire. The back of his index finger smoothed down her flushed cheek.

“I’ll see you when you get home.” He whistled for the dogs and strode to the cabin without looking back.

Ella looked at herself in the mirror, a little impressed by the transformation.

After two days of highlighting, waxing, plucking, polishing, and several other “-ings” that weren’t all that comfortable to talk about, the result had been well worth it. Her bedroom light danced off the new coppery flecks in her hair. New makeup shimmered across her eyelids and cheeks, and new lipstick made her lips look more plump.

She chose a new black fitted dress that wrapped around her like a sarong and tied at the waist. It showed off all of her curves. Toenails shimmering with red metallic polish, she further adorned her feet with a pair of bling-covered platform flip-flops. Long silver earrings dangled from her ears and a set of bangle bracelets made a chic, sassy sound when her arm moved. At Donna’s insistence, she’d even bought several sets of matching lingerie, and that was the best purchase of all.

The new purple-and-black lace panties and bra that were hidden under her stylish new dress made her secretly feel a little like the vixen she wrote about in her book. The widowed schoolteacher that had let her appearance go was gone, and someone new stared back at her. Someone who might have just enough sex appeal to get a date. Or at least a few dances tonight at Joe’s.

But the real objective was for Ella to make her debut as a single woman again. Get out there. Mingle. Forget the hot, searing kiss Coop had laid on her before she’d stumbled to her car and left for Denver. She had to forget it, because Coop just wasn’t an option, no matter how much chemistry sizzled around them. No matter how much she’d grown to like his presence. Who was she kidding? She’d grown to
want
him.

Ella spun in front of the mirror. “Not bad for an old widow, huh?” She looked at Winston.

He burped, his tongue hanging out one side of his mouth like a limp noodle. Atlas curled next to him. Well, at least one of them was capable of attracting a male.

Fanning out her left hand, Ella looked at the sizeable diamond engagement ring and the matching band of diamonds. They glistened under the light.

Her eyes moistened, and a nugget of sadness lodged in her throat when she slid the set of rings off her finger. She held them to her lips and kissed them gently. “I love you, Bradley. I always will.” She put them in her jewelry pouch, tucked the pouch into her lingerie drawer, and left the cabin for Joe’s.

C
hapte
r
S
eventeen

When Ella walked into Joe’s and joined her table of friends, Donna purred. Literally purred. Like a cat. Well, more like a mountain lion in heat. “Mission accomplished. You look like a cover girl. Or Aphrodite. Every person in the room with chest hair turned to look at you when you walked in.”

Including Coop. Their eyes had locked for a brief moment when she stood in the entrance and glanced around the room, looking for her friends. Her cheeks had burned hot at the look of admiration and approval in his eyes. He’d stopped what he was doing behind the bar, and stared. Just stared. At her.

Her heart skittered and she caught her lip between her teeth, lifting a hand in an uncertain wave. Just as he looked away and refocused on filling drink orders. So, she’d squared her shoulders and found Butch sitting with the rest of her new circle of friends.

Brianna surveyed the room. “Several women look like they want to bitch slap you, Ella, ’cause their husbands won’t stop staring.”

Ella’s cheeks burned hot. “Come on, you guys. You make me sound like a floozy.”

“You look pretty, Ella. No one thinks you’re a floozy, and if anybody does try to . . . whatever-slap you,” Butch rolled his eyes and mumbled something about young people’s slang these days, “they’ll have to answer to me.”

“Me too, darlin’,” Orland agreed.

A Kenny Chesney song came on and Ross scooted by with Sandra in his arms. Well, there was somebody for everyone.

“Have a seat, Ella,” Butch said.

Before Ella could pull out a chair, a burly fellow dressed like a lumberjack came over and put his hand on her arm. “Care to dance, ma’am?”

His firm grip startled her. “Uh, no. No, thank you.”

His grip tightened. “Why not? You’re not doing anything else.” His words ran together in a drunken slur.

She tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp, but he clamped down harder.

“Come on. A purty little thing like you shouthaaan’t go wit’out attention.” Only “thing” came out like “thang,” and Ella caught a whiff of the heavy scent of whiskey on his breath.

“I said no,” she hissed and tried to pull her arm free.

“Hey, take your hands off her,” Lorenda thundered, and Butch and Orland rose from their chairs.

Ella’s free hand fell to the side pocket of her purse and she eased down the zipper.

“The li’l lady can speak for herthelf,” Whiskey Breath slurred, barely coherent.

Orland and Butch headed toward him.

“And she said no.” Coop grabbed the guy by the back of the collar and pulled him backward.

Whiskey Breath stumbled but regained his footing and swung at Coop. Coop ducked, but the brute’s fist connected just under Coop’s eye and he stumbled back. An entire table of lumberjacks scattered and lurched in their direction. Ella and Coop’s friends did the same.

Ella looked at Coop and blanched. He was red-faced like a raging bull ready to charge. For her. The last thing he needed was to be arrested for a barroom brawl, especially on her account. Before anyone could make another move, Ella moved in behind Whiskey Breath, held her Taser to his neck, and pulled the trigger.

The 240-pound drunken swine hit the dance floor with a thud.

“Holy cow.” Andy, always the quiet one, walked up.

“No kidding,” said Lorenda, knocking over her chair when she shot to her feet. “You are one bad-ass redhead.” A sly smile of admiration slid across her lips.

“I’m from Texas,” explained Ella, still staring at Whiskey Breath sprawled on the floor. “If my dad had anything to say about it, I would’ve been packing a loaded Glock.” She pointed to Whiskey Breath. “Lucky for him, I don’t like guns.”

The entire room stared open-mouthed as Whiskey Breath twitched on the floor.

“Remind me to stay on your good side,” said Donna. “I’m a little scared of you now. And in awe.” She looked at Hank. “That’s it. I’m gettin’ a Taser.”

Hank rolled his eyes and crammed his Stetson back on his head. “As long as you don’t use it on me along with all that other kinky stuff you’re learning from Violet Vixen’s books, I’m good with it.”

Donna slid her arms around Hank. “Awww. That’s so sweet.”

Joe barreled out of the back room, all 285 pounds of him, and stomped toward them. “What’s going on here?” He looked at the lump of plaid and dirty jeans on the floor, the Taser-induced seizing starting to slow. “You got two choices.” He stared down the band of lumberjack onlookers.

“You can either take your friend and leave, or I’ll call the sheriff and they can carry him off. Your call.”

The skull-capped lumberjacks looked at each other and then picked up their buddy and carried him out.

Coop signaled to Dylan, who notched up his chin.

“Ella, you’re coming home with me, just in case they try to follow you.” Coop wasn’t asking her.

“Really, I don’t need you to hold my hand.” Actually, she would’ve liked that and a whole lot more. Heat crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks. “I just took out a guy twice your size, I’ll be fine.”

“Not if they catch you off guard, Rambo,” Coop argued.

“I seem to remember my pepper spray trumping your baseball bat not too long ago, even though I totally wasn’t expecting you to swing it at my head,” Ella said to remind him of who won their showdown the first night she arrived at the cabin.

She turned off her Taser and slid it back into her purse on the table.

“Ella, listen to what Coop says. He’s thinking smart. Guys like that don’t take ‘no’ lightly. They like having the last word.” The concern in Butch’s voice was apparent. “Coop and I will drive your car back to the cabin tomorrow.”

All of her friends added their approval of Coop driving her home. Coop’s lips moved, and she swore she heard something about a damned stubborn woman.

She nodded at Butch, outgunned by people who obviously cared about her. “If you insist. I’ve kind of had enough for tonight.”

“Get your purse.” Coop gave her a flippant look. “And whatever weapons you’re carrying, and we’ll go now.”

Andy snorted. “Who’s really protecting who?”

Ella couldn’t help it. She snorted, too. Until she looked in Coop’s direction and saw his searing glare. Ouch. Her unladylike laughter came to an abrupt halt, and she cleared her throat. “But you’re in the middle of a shift.”

“Dylan’s covering for me.”

“I just need to get my machete and sword, and I’ll be ready.”

Coop’s eyes rounded.

“Just kidding.” She gave him a hopeful smile, but Coop didn’t seem to think she was in the least bit funny.

They drove back to the cabin in silence, emotion simmered in the air around them. A primal tension had settled over Coop. He’d nearly had an out-of-body experience when he saw that freak grab Ella’s arm. If she’d refused to ride home with him, he would’ve carried her out over his shoulder.

No way was he letting her out of his sight after seeing the looks on the Lumberjack Club’s faces. They were mean bruisers who didn’t appreciate a 120-pound redhead, who’d just had her nails done, felling one of their own as easily as a chainsaw cutting down a sapling. They tended to take that kind of thing personally. Especially when they landed face-first at rhinestone-clad feet that had dainty little flowers painted on the big toenails.

The funny thing was, Ella didn’t seem in the least bit scared. She’d been so terrified of the river that she’d completely frozen and nearly gotten herself killed. But there’d been no fear in her eyes when she dropped a mean imbecile more than twice her size.

“Where’d you learn to defend yourself like that?” Coop finally broke the strained silence.

“My dad insisted on it. I wasn’t joking about the gun. When I refused to carry a concealed weapon, I pacified my dad by taking a very intensive self-defense course. He finally settled for pepper spray and a Taser, as long as I learned to use them aggressively.” She chuckled. “He’s a Texan. He means well.”

“He’s a dad looking out for his daughter the best way he knows how,” Coop clarified.

Ella’s stare turned toward him, and she studied him.

“Thanks,” she finally said.

“For what?”

“For looking out for me. Again.” Her voice turned a little wistful. “That’s what I like about you. You keep showing up when I need you.”

He swallowed. She needed him? “I didn’t do much. You handled the situation pretty well all by yourself.”

“I wasn’t trying to start a fight. I’ve never been the type that likes men fighting over me.”

He stared at the road in silence for a minute. Finally, he said, “Is that why you never told Bradley?”

She inhaled a sharp breath. Coop glanced at her, her soft features illuminated by the glow of the dashboard. A surge of desire ignited in him, and he had a sudden urge to pull over and taste those lips that were so perfectly and seductively parted ever so slightly.

“I guess. I don’t know,” she stumbled over her words. “I didn’t want to hurt him. And, yes, I didn’t want him to be angry with his best friend over something that I started.” She looked ahead into the darkness. “I was embarrassed and ashamed, and not just because it had happened.” She paused. “But also because I liked it so much.”

Coop swerved; he grabbed the steering wheel with both hands to keep from veering off the road and tumbling down the side of a mountain that would probably kill them both.

Ella clutched the dash, her breathing quick and heavy. When he’d corrected the truck, they both relaxed.

Really?
He’d never guessed.

“Sorry,” was all he could think to say about nearly getting them killed on a deserted road.
Lame.
He raked a hand over his jaw.

“Why didn’t
you
ever tell Bradley?” she asked.

He thought on that a minute, measuring his words. He’d asked himself the same question a hundred times since that night in the cabin basement so many years ago. He’d certainly felt guilty enough over it, for the same reason Ella had. He liked it. A lot. And he hadn’t exactly pushed her away, so he couldn’t totally blame her. He had been an eager participant and might not have stopped if she hadn’t been smart enough to end it before it went any further.

“After that kiss, I figured maybe you just wanted to marry him because he was a doctor. I’d seen it many times with my dad. Five, to be exact. Seen it myself once I started practicing.” He tapped a thumb against the steering wheel. “To be perfectly honest, I warned him not to get married at all.”

Ella looked at him and nodded. “I knew you didn’t want Bradley to marry me. It was obvious how much you disliked me. But why didn’t you tell him the truth?”

“He loved you.” Coop exhaled. “No sense in making waves.” No, Coop hadn’t really liked Ella, but Bradley had been bent on marrying her. And Coop was too afraid of Bradley knowing the truth. He’d been too chicken to tell him that he’d lusted after Bradley’s girl, even if it was only for a few wayward minutes in a cold and dank basement.

Then she’d gone and surprised Coop by being a loyal and devoted wife. There was no point in telling Bradley after that. Coop had seen too many divorces, been through too many of them with his dad’s five failed marriages. He wasn’t going to be the cause of that for Bradley. “I chalked it up to poor judgment and a little too much wine. Mistakes happen.” He shrugged. “That particular mistake never happened again, so who was I to judge. I’ve made enough of my own.”

And he had. The mess his life had become was proof enough of that. Kim Arrington still had her teeth sunk into him because he was such a screwup.

Coop pulled into the winding driveway of the cabin and followed it around to the back. He pushed the gearshift into park and killed the engine. With one arm over the steering wheel and the other on the console, he leaned into Ella and raked her face with an appraising look. He saw desire there and felt the same. Not just below the waist the way he usually felt it—cool and detached because it was just about sex in the moment. With Ella, he felt it in his chest, in his limbs, deep in his heart, and far into the future. It was unfamiliar and foreign, and so, so good.

“And I was embarrassed to tell my best friend that I had kissed his girlfriend when he’d asked me to watch out for you. Ashamed to tell him how much I wanted you and didn’t want to stop that night in the basement.”