Chapter 11
11
Isla
“YOU JINXED ME with all your poop talk.” Isla came out the front door of Betty’s house feeling a little frazzled as she skipped down the steps toward where Cooper was waiting to take her home. “I think two of them shit their pants on the drive here.”
“I’m not the one who took them for beans and margaritas.” He hooked one arm around her shoulders, directing her to the passenger side of his cruiser. The weight of it was warm and grounding after the chaotic fifteen minutes she’d just gone through. “I’d say they should know their own limits, but if they don’t have a healthy respect for their bowels at this point, it’s never going to happen.”
Isla’s head tipped back on a laugh, relaxing even more now that it was just her and Cooper again. “I guess it was a good test for my driving skills. If I can stay on the road while a car full of retirees are farting it up and trying not to fill their pants, I should be able to handle most of what comes at me.”
“That’s a great way to look at it.” Cooper opened the door, waiting as she dropped into the seat. “The question is, will you be their DD again?”
“I don’t think being their DD is a one-man job.” She wiggled her brows at him. “So next time you have to help me.”
“Deal.” He said it without hesitation then closed her in, rounding the front of his car to take his place behind the wheel.
“Plus, I was bored in there without you.” She buckled up, her eyes moving over the computerized interior. “If you come, at least I’ll have someone to talk to while they fight about who the hottest Jeopardy contestant was this week.”
Going out was something she’d always imagined as exciting and fun, maybe even a little wild. Her time at The Creekery wasn’t what she would call exciting—or fun, really—but it could qualify as wild. Especially the last—pants pooping—bit.
“Out of curiosity, who was the hottest Jeopardy contestant?” Cooper flashed her a grin.
“I left to come find you halfway through the argument because I didn’t care.” She groaned, feeling like a jerk. “I love them and they are fantastic, but man that was a lot.”
Cooper shifted into reverse and backed out of the short driveway. “I get it.” He aimed for downtown. “But you’re stuck with them now. They’ve decided they love you, so there’ll be no getting rid of them.”
That made her smile. “That’s okay. I love them too.” She wrinkled her nose. “They just never get beans again.”
Cooper laughed, the sound filling a little of the rough edges ground in from all the noise and congestion at The Creekery. “I think that’s a good rule to put into place.”
A voice filled the car, listing off a location and a set of identifying numbers.
Cooper’s gaze sharpened, his whole demeanor shifting as he reached for the mic strapped to his shoulder. He responded, giving their approximate location before saying he would be on his way in five minutes.
She waited to be sure he was done talking before asking, “Is everything okay?”
“Just a normal Friday night.” He sped up a little, coasting faster along the dark road. “We’ve got a reported break-in right outside of downtown and they want backup. I’m the closest, so as soon as I drop you off, I have to head there.”
He made a few more turns then they were coming at her building from the back side. Cooper pulled right up to the entry door she used and jumped out, staying right beside her as she unlocked the door leading into the small vestibule separating the restaurant from the staircase leading up.
“Thank you for taking me home.” She turned, expecting to find him rushing back to his car to get to the call, but Cooper was still close, his eyes scanning the lot like he was worried someone might step out of the shadows. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. The break-in was just pretty close to here.” He tipped his head toward her apartment. “Go inside. Lock the door and text me when you’re done.”
She nodded, wishing she could linger with him a little longer. “Yeah, okay.”
Going in, she locked the main door then rushed up the stairs, letting herself into the apartment Mae, the owner of The Wooden Spoon, rented to her month to month until she got her feet under her.
As soon as the deadbolt was in place, Isla rushed through the space, going to the window in her bedroom that overlooked the back lot. She pulled out her phone and sent Cooper a message, peering out into the darkness to find he was still there. The phone in his hand lit up, likely with her message. He looked at the screen then his eyes lifted to where she stood watching him. Isla automatically waved, feeling like an idiot for staring at him yet again.
And getting caught, yet again.
But then Cooper waved back, offering a wink that had her heart skipping a beat, before climbing into his cruiser and pulling away. She watched as his taillights faded into the night, her chest going tight as he raced right toward a potentially dangerous situation.
He was strong. He was smart and careful. He was experienced and wouldn’t purposefully put himself in a bad situation. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything when the individual on the other side of the situation wasn’t a good person.
Worry for his safety had her pacing the floor, going back and forth so many times she started to get dizzy. Not a good plan of action. She needed to distract herself. To occupy her body and her mind until he sent her a text. He would text her the first second he could. He always did.
So she went to take a shower, deciding it was a good idea to wash the bar off her skin and out of her hair. Her cell sat silent on the counter as she scrubbed down, each passing minute twisting the worry in her gut tighter.
After drying off, she swiped a layer of scented lotion over her skin. Her movements were a little jerky as she forced her mind to stay on the task instead of the never-ending list of what-ifs trying to fight their way in.
When there was still no message from Cooper, Isla turned to her hair. Pulling up a tutorial she’d saved on Instagram from one of her favorite creators, she went to work, adding another layer of distraction for her brain. The whole process took what felt like forever, but by the time she was finished winding each section around a stubbly brush over and over again, she was left with big, bouncy curls that almost made her feel…
Sexy.
Was that a thing? Her being sexy?
Probably not, but pretending might be what got her through this next little bit, so she decided to roll with it. Digging through her make-up drawer, she pulled out a tube of mascara and a compact of bronzer. Another tutorial from her new IG bestie showed her how to sweep the scarily brown powder over her forehead and along her jawline. It ended up being surprisingly discreet and resulted in an understated sun-kissed look instead of the streaky mess she was expecting.
A layer of mascara made her dark eyes pop a little. With everything else going on, her lips seemed like they were missing something, so she swiped on a bit of tinted gloss. She’d never been a big makeup person—mascara was usually the extent of what she wore, and even that only happened when she was working. The bronzer had been an impulse buy she’d tried once and then abandoned after a single use. But tonight it looked different. She looked different.
Or maybe she was just starting to be different.
Turning in the mirror, she looked over her fluffy hair and shiny lips. Even wearing an oversized T-shirt, she looked sort of glamorous.
When her phone vibrated on the counter, she nearly jumped out of her skin. The distraction tactic had actually worked, leaving her so engrossed in this new version of herself, she almost forgot her fears for Cooper.
Almost. They came flooding back like a dam broke as she snatched the cell up and swiped across the screen, her heart racing as his message popped open.
False alarm. Teenager snuck out then tried to sneak back in. Unsuccessfully.
All the air rushed from her lungs.
I’m glad it was nothing. Do you have long left on your shift?
Cooper worked all sorts of crazy hours. He picked up extra shifts all the time, taking hours for guys who needed to go to their kids' events or take care of their sick wives. It was just one of many examples of how selfless he was. Yes, he made more money when he took on more time, but the man had to be exhausted. Tired from his sleep schedule being so fucked up.
And yet he always had time for everyone else. Time to help Grady with the goats or his horses. Time to take on yet another shift for a coworker.
Time for her.
Not too long. Thank God. I’m ready to crash.
His response was almost like he’d been reading her mind. It happened that way a lot and had her smiling even though she felt terrible for him.
I was just thinking you must be tired after having to deal with me and the Bridge Bitches all night.
Cooper’s response popped up right away, and again it was like he could read her mind. Because he gave her exactly what she was hoping to hear.
I never get tired of having to deal with you.
But the girls wear me the fuck out with their shit.
Isla laughed as she typed.
Literally, tonight.
She rubbed her lips together, the gloss making them glide smoothly against each other. Glancing up into the mirror, she made sure the motion hadn’t spread the stuff all over her face.
Gosh she felt pretty. It had been so long since she’d looked in the mirror and saw something besides the unsexy, boring girl Eric claimed she was staring back at her. Tonight, someone else’s eyes met hers. She wasn’t one hundred percent sure who it was, but she was ready to find out.
And it had her doing something she’d never done before.
Without thinking, Isla posed, putting on a little smile as she snapped a picture. When it displayed in front of her, she couldn’t believe how good it was. How shiny her hair looked. How bright her eyes seemed.
So she did the natural thing and sent it to Cooper. He was sort of becoming her best friend. Her confidant. The person she shared just about everything with. Might as well share this too.
As it sent, she tapped out an explanation.
I messed around with my hair a little while you were keeping Moss Creek safe.
The dots telling her he was working on a response popped up. She started to chew her lower lip in anticipation, but didn’t want to screw the gloss up, so she stopped, forcing herself to leave it alone.
But then the dots disappeared.
“Huh.” He must have gotten another call.
Isla put her phone down and went to work putting away her makeup and blow dryer. The counter was wiped down and her towels were hanging to dry when Cooper’s message finally came.
One of us spent our time way better than the other.
She beamed at the screen, because, once again, Cooper said exactly what she needed to hear. She was still smiling at their text thread when an image popped up of Cooper’s face. He looked a little tired, and the dark interior of his cruiser made everything just a bit blurry, but it was impossible to deny how freaking hot the man was.
She opened the keyboard and sent back:
I’m making that your contact photo in my phone.
Flipping off the bathroom light, she padded through her apartment to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and unscrewing the cap right as Cooper’s next text came through.
There are worse pictures of me.
Another photo popped up, and as promised, it was way worse. It was of Cooper and an older woman. His eyes were half open, his mouth was weirdly gaping and his head was tucked strangely, giving him three additional chins. He still looked adorable, but the picture was so bad it had her cackling as she fell onto her bed, dropping to the blankets and pillows as she typed:
That’s awful.
Then, to make him feel better, she lifted her cell, contorted her face and mouth, and took another photo, sending it off as she slid under the covers.
Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn’t. You still look gorgeous.
She reread the message three times. The first to make sure she’d seen it right. The other two were because Cooper calling her gorgeous watered that tiny seed of self-love she’d planted tonight. It wasn’t quite ready to bloom yet—it might not even grow—but the conditions were finally starting to change to a more favorable climate. Finally starting to be conducive to something other than the loathing and degradation that had been swirling around since Eric stomped all over her ego.
Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.
Except for that second picture. It should never see the light of day.
Turning off the light on her nightstand, Isla cuddled under the covers, watching videos on IG as she waited for Cooper to respond. When he was working, there could be gaps that spanned hours, which was totally understandable. His job was important and came first.
She swiped through the reels and paused when a cute red-headed guy wearing a robe and carrying a chicken popped up. He had a southern twang as he spoke and everything he said was animated and hilarious. Plus, he lived on a freaking farm with piles of cute critters, so she started scrolling through his feed.
And stopped short on a very different sort of tutorial.
Apparently the guy was also a photographer. A boudoir photographer.
Her eyes dried out from staring so hard as she went through his videos explaining how to take sexy selfies. Ways to pose and dress and look at the camera. The humor he brought along made the process seem less daunting.
It made her think even someone like her could manage to take a few hot pictures.
Could she though?
Stomach fluttering in a wild way, she opened her shopping app and typed ‘lingerie’ into the search bar and started to look around. The options were varied and endless. After spending way too much time debating, she finally dropped a simple black bodysuit into the cart and clicked purchase, feeling a little like she was doing something she shouldn’t be.
But why not? Because some mediocre man said she wasn’t sexy?
According to her new red-headed farmer friend, all women should feel sexy. And he seemed way more believable—and knowledgeable—than Eric when it came to women.
Way cooler too, walking around his farm in mucks and a robe, carrying a chicken.
Her lids were getting heavy when Cooper’s last message of the night finally came through, this time as a voice recording.
“ Just got done at work and on my way home. You’re probably asleep, so hopefully this doesn’t wake you up. I just wanted to say goodnight and I’ll see you tomorrow .”
They hadn’t made plans, but she had promised to help with his new chicks, so maybe that’s what he was thinking. It was also possible he just wanted to take her driving again. She was close to being ready for her test, but once that was done, her excuses to hang out with Cooper dwindled significantly.
Plus she’d have to find a car, and while she’d saved up a decent amount of money without Eric to take care of, the process of purchasing a vehicle was daunting.
Maybe that was something Cooper wouldn’t mind helping with. She might have to float the idea by him tomorrow.