Chapter 38 Cooper #2
Nelly’s hands were wrapped around her coffee mug; she lifted it to her lips and took a slow draw on the black-as-night contents.
I’d ordered the cup for her overnight. White, printed with pink ballet slippers.
It was one of those two o’clock in the morning impulse purchases.
When it came in, I was horrified at myself for getting her a reminder of the career she’d lost. Yet, Nelly had loved it.
She kept using it, washing it, and then using it again.
After a day or two of that, I’d decided to buy a backup for when the printed images faded away.
“I’m glad you like the mug.” The words spilled out of me.
She smiled down at it. “I really do.”
I shuffled my feet, struggling with whether to make an excuse and dart off towards the new construction. Every second I stayed in Nelly’s orbit heightened the risk I’d spill the truth.
The truth that would pull the pin…
Of the grenade…
I gripped in my fist.
Without meaning to, I whirled away from her, flight response sending me a few paces towards the house without even telling her goodbye.
“Where are you going?” Nelly’s question called after me. It should have led right to my excuse—checking on something in the new house, be right back—instead my mouth opened, and I even invited her to go with me.
“The new place. Do you think maybe you’re ready to see it?” Part of me desperately hoped she’d take me up on my offer, the other part of me wanted to leave her behind so I could pull the pin from the grenade and let how shitty I was feeling erupt all over my Alpha brothers.
“Sure,” she said, causing surprise and hope to infiltrate my doubting.
She finally wanted to see our new home. I could just tell the rest of the pack about the email later.
Right now, the most important thing to do was to cherish the time I still had with Nelly.
Carefully, she placed the ballet mug onto small table between rocking chairs.
When she stepped from beneath the porch’s roof, the morning light struck her face with such force that she was transformed into a true angel on earth.
As we strolled toward the two story, the email from Eros stayed in the back of my mind. I should tell her. I should tell her right now that she had a choice, that she could leave without consequences if that's what she wanted.
But the words wouldn't come. Instead, I heard myself rattling off stupid shit.
"They've installed most of the kitchen appliances, but we’ve got to move my Viking over. I wanted to spring for a new forty-eight-inch model, but Levi had a heart attack over the fridge price. Figured I shouldn’t push my luck too much. "
"I bet it’s looking beautiful,” she said with a smile that reached her eyes.
The nearly completed two-story house loomed before us, its timber frame and stone facade a testament to months of planning and construction.
When we were a few yards away from the wide steps leading up to the massive, covered porch, Nelly shielded her eyes with one hand and tilted her head to gaze up at the structure.
My eyes were glued on her; I couldn’t care less about the house.
To her, did this place represent all her fears for the future?
I hoped not, because for me and my pack, this new home represented our collective and separate dreams. It gave us room to grow, to breath, to carefully craft the tomorrow we so desperately craved.
A tomorrow with Nelly in it.
She started walking, even mounting the first riser before I thawed to follow.
I watched the sway of her hips beneath the long shirt.
When she finished climbing the stairs, stepping onto the porch, I had to quickly look away.
I was still on the ground, my line of view perilously close to glimpsing things she wouldn’t want me to.
Jesus, she had gorgeous legs. They went on forever, disappearing under the flannel to greet an ass that I could only imagine was divine.
I mentally slapped myself for letting my mind wander into dangerous territory. I didn't have the right to think of Nelly that way. Not when I was about to offer her freedom, not when she was about to break my damn heart by grabbing that liberation and running with it.
"Cooper?" she called, already at the front door. "Are you coming or what?"
I jogged up the steps, joining her on the porch. "Sorry," I muttered sheepishly, face flushing volcanically.
“Are you okay?” Her brow furrowed, and she lifted one hand, pressing the back of it to my forehead when I was close enough.
If only she knew how much the touch of her burned.
No fever could make me sweat harder.
No sickness could weaken me so greatly.
Her skin to mine was the worst kind of malady, because I wanted no cure.
“You’re hot,” she murmured, frown deepening.
“I’m fine.” I lifted my hand, curling fingers around hers and gently removing her touch. I had to, because if I didn’t, I’d kiss her so deeply she couldn’t breathe. “Honest,” I added when she looked unsure.
We hesitated there, hands touching, until I thought the world would stop existing and zoom down onto this singular moment forever. Then she took a step away, creating an aching trench beneath us, and severed our connection.
“I can’t wait to see inside,” she said softly, arms crossing in a way that let her cup her elbows.
“You’re going to love it,” I responded, just as quietly. Please, love me too. A little voice in my head pleaded.
When I pushed the door open, I was relieved to note the dizzying scent of fresh paint had faded drastically. The ladders were cleared out, the tarps gone. The floors were relatively clean, save endless lines of worker footprints.
My Omega glanced up the curving, impressive stairs.
“There are bookcases on the landing?” she asked, her voice pitched into a strange, wistful tone.
“Yeah, the design didn’t really allow for them here in the foyer. Levi still wanted to see them though when he came through the front door. Makes him feel home.” I looked up at the built-ins, trying to figure out what she was seeing. Why was the sight of the bookshelves hitting her hard?
“That’s where they should be.” Her voice was almost a whisper.
Nelly started moving, heading down the bright, high ceiling hallway towards the open concept kitchen and living room.
As she walked, she traced her hands along the wall, every now and then drawing little squares and rectangles on its smooth surface.
I wondered what was going through her head right now, wondered what she was envisioning as she crafted invisible patterns against the pale blue paint.
"This is amazing," Nelly said, her voice filled with awe as we stepped into the spacious kitchen. "It's absolutely beautiful."
I watched her face carefully, searching for any signs that her words were just polite conversation rather than genuine appreciation. Her eyes widened as she took in the oversized island and the gleaming appliances. Her body gracefully navigated the space, delicately touching cabinets and handles.
"I’ve always wanted a kitchen like this," I admitted. "Perfect for family meals, for holidays... for making memories. A place more used to laughter than screams."
“Screams?” Nelly’s face screwed up, all the joy from seconds ago shriveled.
I hadn’t meant to say something that would ruin the moment.
I hadn’t meant to let the dark shit from childhood creep in.
“Cooper?” She made my name a question.
But I felt sick.
Chest tight.
I hadn’t talked about that stuff in years. Maybe not since Levi and I first met Boone.
"Just a figure of speech," I said quickly. The light dimmed further in Nelly's eyes, and I flooded with regret. She didn’t need to know I’d spent every moment growing up scared to death.
“Cooper, you can talk to me.” Her probing, hazel eyes pierced me. It popped a balloon inside that I thought deflated al long fucking time ago.
I took a deep breath, hoping I wouldn’t crack in front of her completely. I was supposed to be an Alpha. I was supposed to be strong, unshakable, and my Omega’s protector. I wasn’t supposed to be weak.
"My dad was a brutal bastard. Mom was pretty timid and stayed out of his way if she could. Kitchen wasn't exactly a happy place growing up. Levi had a bullshit home life too; more neglect than beatings though. We became thick as thieves over bruises and empty bellies. Around the time we turned eight, Wyatt and Wade’s grandparents became our safe place. We slept at the ranch whenever we could.” He paused, taking a deep breath.
“My dad came over one time, raised hell so bad that Grampa Joe brought out the shotgun. Scared Granny Kat to death.” I lifted a hand to the back of my neck, rubbing the nape and feeling embarrassed as hell.
I didn’t want to tell her this stuff, didn’t want to scare her off. But I kept my voice flippant and casual. Nelly just stared at me like I was something she needed to comfort, pity, or fix. That look was why I kept this shit to myself. The people who mattered, knew. And that was enough.
“Grampa Joe and Granny Kat…” Her voice said their names, then trailed off. She leaned against the counter now, eyes glistening. Dammit, why’d I have to go and ruin things?
“They were fucking saints to put up with all the hell we four raised.” I looked up at the ceiling, recalling things I’d bottled up.
“After that night, the one when Gramps shot my dad’s truck and scared him off, I basically moved to Sagebrush.
Levi did the same about a month later when his mom up and left, disappeared into Mexico we think.
She robbed the Pinedale Dollar Store for fifty bucks and a case of Red Bull. ”
Nelly stood up, turning away from me. She pretended to inspect the lower island cabinets, opening and closing doors, reaching in and pulling out the sliding shelves.
I waited, wondering if my story had ruined her image of me.
When she stood up, I watched from behind as she lifted one arm and swiped the long sleeve across her face.
The movement lifted the shirt, and this time, I couldn’t look away as the lower curves of her ass came into view.
I could only imagine her fully undressed.
I could only dream about the utter perfection that would be.
Slowly, she pivoted. Her cheeks sported telltale damp streaks, but she’d stopped crying.
“I’m so fucking sorry you and Levi grew up that way.” Her words were carefully controlled, the slightest trembling warping the syllables.
I tilted my head, lifting and lowering my shoulders, trying to look devil-may-care. “It’s ancient history.”
“It’s not, Cooper. Things like that are never really in the past.”
“They have to be. If twisted shit stays with you, if you never get past it, then you get stuck permanently. You stay there forever, as sure as stepping into quick dry cement.”
“That’s why they make jackhammers,” she quipped.
“You got one handy?” I arched an eyebrow.
“We can buy one,” she offered.
I wanted to scream at her that we didn’t need to go to any store. We didn’t need a midnight, ill-advised, one-click on social media for a discount sledgehammer.
Because she was here.
The tool that could chip away all the bad. The Omega that could erase all the bullshit and be my perfect future.
“My grandparents’ kitchen was yellow,” Nelly filled the stretching silence with her soprano voice.
I looked back at her, grateful for the lifeline. "Yellow, huh?"
"Grandmother said it was like having sunshine indoors all year round." Nelly looked around, at the blue we’d picked as our main color. It was so pale that it verged on white, playing tricks on your eyes if the lighting was bright enough. “The realtor pushed me to paint over it before listing, but I couldn’t." It would have been like erasing Grandmother. Her own mind was doing that. I couldn’t do it to her house too.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Nelly told us her Grandpa was gone, succumbed to cancer, and her Grandmother’s dementia was advanced.
I wondered if she’d used the cell phone to call the care facility yet, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.
I’d already made her sad with my own sordid childhood shit.
"We can paint this place yellow if you want," I said, desperation creeping into my voice. Would it make her happy? To bring that sunshine from home here to Wyoming? Or would it just be a fresh source of pain? "Yellow, green, purple. Hell, we could do rainbow if that's what you'd like."
Splash every color that exists on these walls, just stay with us! Just stay, Nelly! My brain screamed in anguish.
Nelly's laugh was soft, a gentle sound that wrapped around my heart. "This is perfect as it is. I was just remembering."
The smile that followed the brief laugh was melancholy. Her hazel eyes watched some faraway place. She wasn’t here in this house with me now. I felt her slipping away, and there was little I could do about it.