Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
ABBY
Apainting party.
It could be fun, right?
It was Sunday afternoon, and both Cooper and James were off duty, handing over the reins to Kravitz and Holmes. Kate didn’t have to be at the bar until early that evening, so the four of us had a whole day to unwind as we painted the rest of my house.
Two days had passed since I’d cried my heart out to Cooper McAllister on my porch swing.
I was mildly embarrassed for the emotional breakdown, but he had been so kind. So careful with me.
So…forgiving.
We had sat on that swing for over an hour, mostly in silence, holding each other.
He’d caressed my hair and kissed my tears, and I couldn’t remember a time when I’d felt safer.
A sense of peace had swept through me, scaring away my demons for the time being.
Cooper had eventually helped me inside, even tucking me into bed, running his hand along my cheek and pressing a kiss to my temple.
I’d been tempted—so tempted—to ask him to stay. I’d wanted him to.
And somehow, I’d known that he wanted to.
But Cooper had been in his uniform with his patrol car parked out front, so I’d been aware he was on the clock. He’d already stayed so long. He’d already done so much.
He always did so much.
I hadn’t spoken to him much the prior day, as he’d been tied up with a gas station robbery in one of the neighboring towns. I’d been wrecked with worry and anxiety until he’d texted me late that night telling me he was okay.
God, if something had happened to Cooper, I would never recover.
He was the only thing keeping my head above water.
Cooper had offered to come by and help me finish painting, and I’d suggested inviting Kate and James, as well. Perhaps I’d figured we could finish faster, but mostly, I’d been a little terrified of being alone with him all day.
I didn’t trust my soft heart.
Cooper, James, and Kate entered my house shortly before noon. Kate held up a pizza box and plastic bags filled with beverages as she strolled into the kitchen. “I know you said painting party, but all I heard was party, so I brought pizza and alcohol.”
“Alcohol?” My lips puckered. “It’s only lunch time.”
“Oh, nothing crazy,” Kate insisted. “I only got some Bloody Mary mix and an obscene amount of vodka. Painting and booze kind of go hand-in-hand.”
Cooper and James joined us around my brand-new kitchen island.
“It looks great in here,” Cooper noted, his gaze dancing around the bright-white kitchen with granite countertops. “You have good taste.”
I was staring at him, semi-dreamily.
Mmm. Good taste.
I shook my head, bringing myself back to cabinetry. “Obviously. I’m basically the long lost Property Brother,” I teased.
Kate snorted. “I helped pick out the backsplash. Give cred where cred is due.” She popped the caps off the bottles as a slice of pizza dangled between her teeth. “Time for bloodies.”
The two men and I reached for plastic cups as Kate poured us cocktails. Taking a sip, I shuddered and nearly gagged.
This was why Kate never worked behind the bar—her alcohol to mixer ratio was just a tad off.
“Want to go to the bedroom?”
I choked mid-swallow, jerking my head toward Cooper “What?”
“The bedroom. To paint.” A grin surfaced when he registered the innuendo. “Kate said it was just the kitchen and the bedroom left that needed painting. I figured we could split up.”
Kate turned to her brother and slapped him on the chest with both hands. “And this is why you’re single, you brilliant wordsmith, you.” She then tugged James by the arm, pulling him out of the room and leaving Cooper and I alone in the kitchen.
I attempted not to turn as red as my tomato juice. “Sounds like a good plan. Now that I understand the plan.” Clearing my throat, I took a delicate sip of the beverage, my focus falling everywhere but on Cooper.
He chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry, that came out a little ambiguous.”
I swallowed down a few more gulps before leading Cooper down the hall toward my bedroom. I’d chosen a sea-breeze paint color because I thought it was calming. Peaceful.
Cooper was leaning against the opposite wall, watching as I poured paint into a tray and unwrapped the rollers.
As I brushed away a strand of hair that had come loose from my ponytail, I glanced at him.
“What?” I felt self-conscious under his perusal.
Maybe I should have worn something nicer than leggings and an old T-shirt that was tied at my hip with a scrunchie.
He sipped his cocktail, still staring at me. “Are you okay?”
I blinked. “Why? Do I not look okay?”
Stepping toward me, he inched his way into my bubble.
Warmth engulfed me, but I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the man.
“I mean…the other night. I wasn’t sure if you were okay when I left. I would have checked in sooner yesterday, but there was that armed robbery at the gas station, and—”
“I’m okay, Cooper.” I smiled, relishing in the way his features softened at my response. “Thank you, by the way. I’m kind of embarrassed, honestly, but I appreciate you staying with me and giving me a shoulder to cry on.”
He ducked his head, taking another step forward as my gaze trailed him. He was wearing a stark-white shirt and old blue jeans with worn holes. The T-shirt contrasted his skin, which was bronzed from the summer sun, and his brown hair had golden flecks that glimmered under the recessed lighting.
I gulped when he stopped in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch him. I squeezed the paint roller to keep myself from doing just that.
“If you ever feel like that again, please call me,” he said. “I’ll come over. You’re not alone.”
His words gave me comfort because I knew he was serious. He would come.
I hadn’t scared him away.
“Thanks. I will.”
Nodding, Cooper swallowed down the rest of his beverage. “Ready to paint?”
Cooper
As it turned out, painting and booze didn’t actually go hand-in-hand. I had gotten more paint on myself than I had on the walls, and Abby wasn’t exactly impressing anyone either.
Turning toward me, she held the roller up as it dripped paint onto the plastic cover protecting her floors. She was an aquamarine dream. “Okay, so, we suck at this.”
I laughed. “It’s the Bloody Marys. My sister must have spiked them with shitty painting skills because I’m usually much better at this.”
“You know what? I think you’re right. I’m going to ask her.”
She skipped out of the room, then returned a few seconds later, doubled-over laughing.
“What?” I grinned.
“Oh, my God. Kate and James are making out on my living room floor right now.”
“What?” I repeated.
Giggles spilled into her paint-smeared palm. “You have to go look.”
“Jesus. No. I’m dry-heaving at the thought.”
“You don’t think they make a cute couple?”
I grimaced. “No.”
“You’re crazy,” she scoffed, swinging her head back and forth as hair fluttered out of her ponytail and framed her face. “I’m totally a James-Kate shipper.”
“What the hell is a ‘shipper?’” I questioned with a frown.
“When you’re rooting for a relationship to happen. I thought everyone knew that.”
“No. I’m a guy, therefore, I did not know that.”
She was still laughing, her eyes crinkling with humor.
Dammit—she was adorable.
As she stepped forward, her foot caught on the bunched-up plastic, and she stumbled into my arms like a ridiculous scene in a romance movie. I caught her, of course. That’s how those movie scenes played out, after all.
She gazed up at me, her body pressed against mine, warm and soft, and I wondered if this was the part where I was supposed to kiss her.
It sure as hell felt like it.
“Sorry,” she said, straightening with a sheepish smile.
My arms were still circled around her waist, and the vodka was seriously compromising my voice of reason. She smelled like citrus and Sherwin Williams.
Our eyes locked.
Step. Away.
“You two are the greatest in the whole fucking world.” Kate dashed into the bedroom, severing the moment, a giddy grin on her face. “Please have babies together. They would be so cute, and I’d rock the hell out of the aunt thing.”
Abby jerked away, smoothing out the front of her shirt.
“Shit. You were just about to kiss, weren’t you? I suck. I ruined everything. Carry on.” My sister exited the room just as aggressively as she’d entered.
Awkward silence settled in as our gazes darted anywhere but to each other.
“Music?” Abby jogged over to her cell phone sitting on the nightstand and started shuffling through her playlists.
The song “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails came on, and I watched as she frantically tried to change it to something else. Chuckling, I watched her blush and turn her back to me.
Abby settled on a Jimmy Eat World album before setting the phone back down and picking up her paint roller. “Ready to finish?”
Abby
We had managed to finish painting the bedroom.
It was impressive, considering the odds had been against us.
The Bloody Marys had taken our focusing skills down at least a dozen notches, while the tension swirling between us had made every glance, every shoulder bump, and every sensual song that had popped up on my playlist, feel like a sexual hurricane had been headed our way.
How long was this going to go on for?
Cooper had made it clear that nothing could happen between us. We couldn’t “go there.”
But it sure as hell seemed like he wanted to go there—it was in his eyes, his lingering touches, and Lord, how many times was he going to almost kiss me? A dull ache pulsed between my thighs at the thought, and it was an ache only Cooper McAllister could quell.
Kate was getting ready to leave for her shift at The Crow Bar, so Cooper and I met her in the living room to say goodbye.
She lit up as she watched me approach. “So? Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“You know,” she said, implication dripping from her tone.
I frowned. “Are you asking if we had sex? Like, twelve feet away from you and James, with the door wide open? Is that what you’re getting it?”
Enthusiasm bobbed along with her head.