Chapter Sixty-One
Declan
Stepping out of my office, the front door swings open. Right on schedule.
My parents walk in, the Riddicks right behind them, Grace skipping between the four adults like she’s leading a parade. I catch myself relaxing as the little gremlin waves across the room and takes off toward their usual booth. Some things never change, even when everything else does.
Heading across the floor, I detour behind the bar instead.
Vince and Emma have things handled; refills lined up, orders firing in, the low hum of conversation rolling through the room.
Jerry’s in his usual spot at the bar, nursing a beer with the hockey game on TV, muttering to himself like the players can hear him.
“You good if I take my break?” I ask Vince, lifting the soda gun and filling my glass.
He nods and wipes his hands on a bar towel. “Yeah, boss. Go. Say hi to the fam.”
I make my way to their table, except they’re not sitting there. They’re with him, in his booth. Wedged in at the end of the bench beside his mom, Cooper rests his elbows casually on the table, curls sticking up in a mess like he’s run his hand through his hair one too many times.
I thought I’d gotten used to where he shows up and when. But this? Seeing him here now? This throws me. He’s usually gone by the dinner rush.
“There you are, honey. Come sit,” Mom says, shuffling down slightly.
“Hey, kiddo,” I say, sliding into the booth beside Grace, tugging on one of her pigtails when she doesn’t look at me. She stares at Cooper sitting opposite her, eyes narrowed with suspicion, then she leans toward me conspiratorially, except her whisper is loud enough for the entire table to hear.
“Declan…who is that man?”
I rub at the back of my neck, keeping my focus on Grace instead of him. “This is—”
Cooper jumps in before I can say anything else. “I’m your brother’s best friend.”
My gaze snaps to his and, of course, he’s already looking at me.
“No, you’re not.” The bluntness in her tone is brutal, enough to make Dad choke on a laugh. “I am.”
Mom shoots her that look she’s perfected over three decades. The one that could still make me sit up straight, but apparently not my sister.
“Grace,” she warns gently.
“Be nice,” I murmur to her, unable to stop the corner of my lip from turning up when she huffs and folds her arms, scooting closer to me, like she’s claiming territory.
Cooper clears his throat, a mega-watt smile on his face, absolutely unfazed.
“Fair enough, I have been away for a while.” He sticks his hand out for her. “Nice to meet you, Grace.”
She narrows her eyes, considering him as she slowly slots her palm against his. “We’ll see.”
Seth laughs into his napkin as Mom shakes her head, picking up her menu. Jesus. He’s doomed, and yet, he looks delighted about it.
“Where were you?” Grace asks, still watching him with her head tilted.
Cooper glances at our parents, then at me. Our eyes catch for half a second, too aware, before he answers, “Working. A lot.”
“Oh, he’s being modest,” Mom says. “You’ve heard Reign Cooper on the radio before.”
Recognition dawns on her face, her eyebrows shooting into her hairline.
“That’s you? You look different from your photos.” Her head swings as she looks between us. “Wait. He’s the one who sings all those songs you used to play when—”
“Okay,” I cut in, clamping a hand gently over her mouth before she can finish. “That’s enough sharing.”
She grumbles against my palm before running her tongue along the middle. I grimace and let her go, wiping her spit on my pants leg.
Dad, oblivious, or pretending to be, leans forward. “How’s the songwriting going, Cooper?”
His smile is bright, but a muscle in his cheek tightens, the same tell I’ve been catching recently. “Good. A little slow, but that’s normal at this stage.”
“So, we can expect a new album?” Mom asks, thanking Emma as she sets down drinks.
“Working on it. How’s the care home? Mom was saying you’re short staffed?”
There he goes again, subtly sliding the spotlight off him and onto someone else, redirecting the conversation with the same ease he uses to charm a crowd onstage, taking control of the room without anyone noticing.
But I notice. I always have.
They talk about Mom’s work, everyone chatting over each other.
I half-listen, half-pretending to keep up.
But it’s hard when every so often, I can feel Cooper’s gaze flick toward me.
There’s this weird tension between us, an awkwardness I’ve never felt before, and maybe that’s why I hear myself ask, “So… where’s your shadow? ”
Cooper’s head darts toward me, surprised. “Lockie?”
Trying to ignore the way my pulse skitters, I nod.
“He’s off tonight,” Cooper says. “I told him to actually relax for once. Not that he listened.”
He thumbs over his shoulder at the huge guy sitting in the corner—massive, brooding, a paperback sitting untouched in front of him while he watches the room like he’s waiting for someone to start a bar fight he’d fully intend on finishing.
“Lockie,” I repeat, rolling it over. “That his actual name?”
He laughs under his breath, the sound pulling at long-buried memories.
“Lachlan,” he says, using that soft, throaty Scottish ch sound like he’s been pronouncing it his whole life. “Not that he’d answer to it, though.”
Grace perks up at the name, kneeling in the booth and turning around to look at him. “He’s the tall, scary-looking one? Why does he look mad?”
“That’s the one,” Cooper says, still watching me out of the corner of his eye. “But he’s a big teddy bear, really. Just has one of those really mean faces to keep people away.”
“That’s not nice,” she says as she slides back around.
“That’s what he told me to say,” Cooper replies smoothly. “Plus, I pay him a lot of money to look all intimidating.”
Grace beams like she’s found her new favorite person.
Great.
Our parents are deep in conversation across the table, completely absorbed in whatever story Holly’s telling. Grace leans forward, ignoring all of them, eyes locked on Cooper like he’s the only one he wants an answer from.
“Are you coming to my game this weekend?”
The question takes me off guard, my heartbeat jumping sideways. Apparently, it does the same to Cooper because he’s frozen, lips parted as he stares unblinking at me.
“I’m sure he’s busy,” I say, recovering first.
“No, I can come,” he says carefully. “As long as your brother doesn’t mind.”
Grace immediately turns to me, her big brown eyes practically pleading. “You don’t mind, right?”
“I—” I rub a hand over my beard. “I don’t mind.”
“Great,” she squeals. “Bring Lockie too. I want him to see me score a goal.”
My gaze finds Cooper’s. His smile is small, quiet even, aimed straight at me before he can hide it.
Fuck.
“So, referee, huh?” he asks. “I always knew you’d be able to find a way back to the ice one day.”
Scrubbing the back of my neck, I shrug. “It’s under-tens, not exactly the NHL.”
Picking at the napkin in front of him, the conversation stalls, unfinished and uncomfortable. Draining the last of my soda, I slide out of the booth. “Break’s over.”
Mom blows me a kiss as Holly waves. Our dads are too busy talking about god knows what as I walk away. Cooper doesn’t say a thing, but his eyes follow me all the way back behind the bar, where I belong. Where things make sense.
Except they don’t. Not with him sitting there, with our families, like he never left. Not with my little sister moving around to sit next to him, hanging onto every word he says.
Heading back to the office, I try to forget about them out there, distancing myself with work. But Cooper? He’s making damn sure I can’t, taking over every thought in my head.
And the worst part? I’m not sure I want him to stop.