Chapter 20
20
Cooper
“I’M SORRY, WHAT?” Cooper stared out the windshield of his cruiser, brain short circuiting as he pressed his cell tighter to his ear.
“I said, I’m going out with Evelyn tonight. She’s feeling a little cooped up and Griselda offered to watch Hudson, so I suggested we go to The Creekery and have a couple of drinks.” Isla again laid out her plan for the evening.
And it sounded even worse the second time.
“I thought you didn’t like going out?” The air inside the car had become fucking stifling. He rolled down the window, breathing deep as the chilly winter breeze wafted through. “You said it was too loud and hot and boring.” Did it sound like he was pleading?
It sounded like he was pleading.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I think most of the temporary ranch hands are gone, so that will make it less crazy.” Isla paused for a second and he hoped maybe it was to reconsider. “Plus I’ve got a cute lacy top to wear, so I’m sure I won’t get as overheated as I did in the sweater I had on last time.”
Speaking of overheated, he swiped at the sweat collecting on his upper lip then at the clamminess on his brow. “But…” What the fuck other reasons could he think of for her not to go out? “You could go to Billings and have dinner. That would be nice.”
And way fucking safer than Isla being alone at The Creekery. Evelyn was great, but not ‘hit an asshole ranch hand with a cane’ great. They wouldn’t even bat an eye at her. Before the girls had their first drinks, they’d be circling Isla like predators, intent on stealing her away from him.
Except…
It wouldn’t really be stealing her away since Isla wasn’t his in the first place. He’d been so afraid of losing her completely, he’d been too much of a coward to lay the claim he desperately wanted to make. Too scared of not having her at all to take her the way he wanted.
And now he might be about to lose everything anyway.
“Evelyn can’t be gone that long since she’s breastfeeding. She’d start to get uncomfortable.” Isla yawned. “Plus, I’m kinda tired, so we’ll just meet up, have a couple drinks, and then I’ll walk home and crash.”
Fucking fuck. She was going to walk home? He’d already witnessed one cowboy try to accost her on the street, what the fuck would happen if she didn’t have a car to escape to?
Or worse, what would happen if she didn’t go home alone on purpose?
“I’ll come pick you up and drive you home when you’re done.” It wasn’t an offer, but she took it as one.
“You don’t have to do that. It’s only a couple blocks away, and I used to walk all around the city in the winter when I lived in New York.” She sounded like she was smiling. Like she was actually looking forward to this horrible fucking night. “It’ll probably be good for me anyway. I think I’m going to try tequila. Gertrude said it’s her favorite, so I might as well see if she’s right.”
His brain stopped functioning. Just went offline for a second, unable to process the horror that was about to unfold.
“Enough about my night. What about yours?” Isla continued on like he could think of something besides the prospect of a barful of other men looking at her the way he did. “Has it been a boring shift so far?”
“No.” And it had nothing to do with the job. The only call he’d taken that was anything of a problem was the one he was on now. “It’s probably going to be a hell of a night.”
“I’m sorry.” Isla sounded truly apologetic. Of course she did. She was sweet and kind and empathetic and loving and?—
And he loved her. With every fucking fiber of his dumbass being.
“Hopefully it’s not as bad as you’re expecting.” Isla sighed. “I should probably get going. I need to take a shower and get ready so I’ll be there when my grandpa drops Evelyn off.”
So Evelyn had a designated driver and Isla could walk home. Awesome. Great. They’d be able to get as tipsy as they wanted.
Fucking fantastic.
“Call me if you need anything .” He stressed the last word. It didn’t matter if she had a fucking hangnail or wanted someone to scratch an itch at the tip of her nose. He’d fucking be there in a heartbeat. “I’m not assigned to that area, but I can make an exception.”
Of all the nights to be stuck at the other end of town, why the fuck did it have to be this one?
“I will. Thank you. You’re the best. I’ll see you later.” Isla’s soft voice was like a knife to the gut. It was like she was talking to a friend, and it was his own fucking fault.
He’d had every opportunity to become more. Could argue he’d actually succeeded a couple of times. But then he got scared and backed off. Stepped into the delusion that things hadn’t changed. That they were still the same friends they’d always been.
False. Wrong. Incorrect. Negatory.
They weren’t friends. Might not ever have been. Not the way he tried to pretend they were.
They were always more. From that first time when he saw her laying there on the barn floor, a pile of goats surrounding her, he should have fucking known Isla could never be just his friend.
After years of chasing. Trying. Hoping. Wishing. What he’d been looking for—desperate to find—literally fell onto the floor right in front of him, and he’d refused to see it.
Refused to accept the truth.
Dropping his personal cell into the console, he let his head fall back against the rest. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
A call—possible burglary—came though, dragging him out of the pit of self-loathing he wanted to die in. Forcing him to put his miserable mind to something else.
The burglary turned into a foot chase, which turned into an apprehension, which ended with a career criminal, who thought it would be smart to break into a ranchers barn, threatening his life for being fast enough to catch him.
All in a day’s fucking work.
By the time they were wrapping up, it was past ten and he was ready to peel his skin off.
“You look like shit.” Grady strolled up, looking fresh as a daisy. “I take it you were the one who went after him when he ran?”
Looking down at his uniform he shrugged. “It was either me or Peters, and he’s even older than I am.”
“I heard that,” Peters called from where he was talking to the rancher who’d made the 911 call. “And I could have caught him faster than you did.”
“Only because you’re taller.” Cooper scowled, slapping at the bits of dried grass clinging to the dirt caking the vest strapped to his chest. “I had to take that dick down to the ground and it’s fucking muddy as hell out there.”
“Guess it’s a good thing your shift’s almost over.” Grady reached out to flick a bit of branch off his shoulder. “You won’t have to walk around like this for the rest of the night.”
No, but he’d still be walking around the rest of the night. Pacing the floors wondering what in the hell was going on at The Creekery while he wasn’t there.
“Since you’re headed in.” Grady checked his phone. “Maybe you could discreetly check on my wife. She and Isla went to have a couple drinks and I haven’t heard anything in a couple hours.”
A couple hours?
“I’ll do it now.” Cooper spun on one heel, forcing himself not to run back to his cruiser the way he wanted to.
“ Discreetly ,” Grady called after him. “I don’t want her to know I sent you there.”
“Got it.” He could be discreet. Could fly right under the radar. No one would ever know he was there. Not Evelyn. Not Isla.
He drove way too fucking fast back to town, pushing the limits of the law past their breaking point as he flew down the dark and deserted roads he’d been patrolling for over a decade.
When he finally pulled up in front of The Creekery, the pit in his stomach became a bottomless well. Cars lined the street and people milled around outside—a good indication the place was even more packed than it had been the night Isla went out with the girls.
He double parked—because fuck it—and cut through the crowd smoking and chatting on the sidewalk. As expected, he pulled the door open to discover The Creekery stretched to its limits. Every inch of the space was occupied by dumbasses in hats and boots.
Working his jaw from side to side, hoping to keep from grinding every tooth in his head down to the nub, Cooper started fighting his way through the crowd, shouldering a path aimed for the spot he most frequently saw the Bridge Bitches. Evelyn used to bring them here regularly, so it wasn’t a stretch to assume she’d choose a similarly located table when she came on her own.
But she wasn’t on her own tonight. Tonight she was with Isla, so they could be anywh?—
They were probably in the corner packed with horny cowboys jockeying for a closer spot.
Fuck .
He picked up the pace, throwing a few elbows as he shoved his way to the upper portion of the bar. He could practically smell the testosterone as he closed in. By the time he reached the edge of the gathering, his blood pressure was skyrocketing and he was two seconds away from losing his shit.
When he finally broke through the barricade keeping him from Isla, momentum carried him right into the table, the hard edge nearly knocking the wind from his lungs.
Or maybe it was just the sight of her that did it. Either way, he could barely breathe at the view confronting him.
It was his worst nightmare.
A trio of cowboys ringed her chair, each one entirely focused on her. One was telling a story, inching closer to Isla with almost every word that came out of his mouth.
The fuck is going on?
Every eye in the vicinity turned his way.
Shit. He said that out loud.
“Well look who we have here.” Griselda sat next to Evelyn, looking smug.
That made him do a double take. He looked Gram-Gram over. “I thought you were watching Hudson.”
Griselda lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “Bernard enjoys babies more than I do, and I thought an evening out with Isla sounded much more interesting than watching an infant sleep.” Her eyes turned to where Evelyn sat before shifting to Isla, affection warming her gaze. “And I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to spend time with my granddaughters.”
“That’s great.” It probably was, but nothing mattered to him right now except finding a way to get those assholes away from Isla. “I’m sure you girls are tired. I’m happy to escort you home.”
“We’re fine.” Griselda gave him a smile. “Especially Isla. She’s had quite the entertaining evening.” Gram-Gram’s eyes went to her nails, looking them over. “Barely had a second to herself since we got here.”
It looked like it.
“I’m sure we’ll be just fine.” Griselda continued on. “And I imagine you have better things to do than stand here monitoring this situation.”
Better was relative.
“Grady sent me to check on you guys. Make sure everything was going okay.” So much for being discreet.
“As you can see, everything is going wonderfully.” Griselda seemed way more happy than normal. “Exactly the way I expected.”
He’d stopped listening to Gram-Gram about halfway through the conversation because all his focus was on the cowboy who was way too close to Isla. His skin crawled as the prick moved right next to her, leaning into her personal space as he showed her something on his cell phone. Probably his stupid ass on the back of a bull.
When he slid the phone into a pocket and reached out to touch her, Cooper lost the tiny grip he had on his actions.
The next thing he knew, the guy’s wrist was gripped tight in his hand. Voice low and deadly, he seethed, “Don’t touch her.”
“Uhh.” The cowboy was visibly flustered, but also seemed a little confused. He yanked his hand from Cooper’s grip. “I was just going to?—”
“I don’t care what you were just going to do .” He was toeing a line he couldn’t cross. Fighting for some semblance of control in a situation where he had none. “You’re not touching her.”
The cowboy—who was likely from out of town since he didn’t know who the fuck he was—gave him the look . It was something he was very familiar with and had seen once already tonight.
It was the look a man offered right before he did something real fucking stupid.
“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, officer.” The cowboy turned his attention to Isla, drinking her in with his gaze. “I think that’s for her to decide.” He licked his lips. “And if she wants me to touch her, you can bet I’m gonna touch her.”
Isla’s eyes went wide and her skin lost its color. She shifted in her seat, leaning away from the man who was about to lose something he should care about a little more than he did.
His dignity.
“She doesn’t want you to touch her.” Cooper managed a deep breath for the first time since Isla called to tell him about her planned night out. “So move on.”
The cowboy snorted. “I think you’re the one who needs to move along. No one’s breaking the law here.”
“Let’s ask the lady then.” Cooper put his eyes on Isla, took in the slightly panicked expression on her face. “Do you want me to leave, Princess?”
Isla shook her head, the motion jerky. “No.”
“Good.” He stepped closer to her. “Do you want this guy touching you?”
Again, she shook her head. “No.”
The cowboy’s head tipped back in shock. The ass genuinely thought he was getting somewhere. Really believed Isla was into him.
She wasn’t. She was just too sweet to tell all the men around her to pound sand.
And it was time to find out if that included him.
Cooper inched closer, bumping the confused cowboy out of his way as he lowered his voice. “Who do you want touching you?”
Isla’s eyes dipped to his mouth before coming back to his. “Only you.”
“Good.” He held out a hand. “Come on. Time to go home.”
She didn’t hesitate to slide her palm into his, holding tight as he pulled her off her stool and tucked her into his side. He turned to where Griselda sat. “I’m calling Grady to come get you two before you cause more problems.”
Griselda leaned closer, eyes narrowing. “It doesn’t look like we caused you a problem. It looks like we found you a solution.”
There was something in the way she said it. Like things had worked out exactly the way she thought they would. But that wasn’t possible. Gram-Gram didn’t know?—
A crash sounded behind him and he turned to find the rejected cowboy slinging a punch at the guy next to him.
Of all the fucking times?—
Isla wrapped both arms at his middle, holding tight as the crowd started to shift, bumping into them from every side.
This was a bad situation and could get out of hand in the blink of an eye. As much as he wanted to get her home—to himself—he had to do his job.
Calling in the altercation, he scanned the bar in search of the familiar face that was usually lingering—especially on the weekends. To his relief, Leland was already headed their way, sending people outside as he cleared away as much of the overwhelming volume as possible.
Leaning into Isla’s ear, he urged her to where Evelyn sat, tucking her behind Grady’s wife so she would be safe as he said, “I’ve got to deal with this. Stay right here.”
She nodded, shrinking back as far as she could as he went to help Leland break up the fight.
By the time it was all said and done, they made three arrests. The cowboy who tried to put his hands on Isla, and two other ranch hands—one a local, the other from out of town.
“I can’t fucking wait for them to get the fuck out of here.” Grady had shown up not long after the call was made, frantic as he rushed in searching for Evelyn. “These guys stir the shit almost every night.”
“They’re a necessary evil.” It was a little easier to say since he got to watch the dick who wanted the woman he loved getting shoved into the back of a police car. “But yeah, I’m ready for a break.”
He was ready to take Isla home. To get her out of there and where she belonged. Where she should have been already.
As if she could hear his thoughts, Isla broke off from where she stood with Evelyn and Gram-Gram, coming straight for him with a cautious smile on her face. “Can you go yet?”
“I can go.” He reached for her, unable to stop himself. Pulling her close, he nuzzled into the soft drape of her hair, breathing deep.
“What the fuck is going on?” Grady’s sharp question flatlined a little of the peace he found holding Isla’s body to his.
He turned, ready to plead his case—prepared to take the ass-kicking he might deserve—but Isla stepped in front of him.
Chin lifted high, eyes narrowed, she glared at his friend—her boss—and said, “Grady, I swear to God if you say one more word I’ll cut a hole in the toe of every sock you own.”