Chapter Three
ALICE
The door swung shut behind him and I stared at it, jaw dropped.
Since when did Cooper notice what I looked like?
Since never. Cooper was everything appropriate in the workplace. He’d compliment me on a job well done, but he never mentioned my appearance.
He was the only one who didn’t.
I have a style. People either like it or they don’t get it.
Rockabilly is fifties-inspired, with a dash of rock and roll whimsy.
I put on my first rockabilly dress in college and I never looked back.
Most of my dresses are vintage fifties, with a fitted bodice, nipped-in waist, and full, knee-length skirts.
Both intensely feminine and modest, I’ve always felt like the line of the dresses and bright colors give my small stature more presence.
Over the years I’ve made the style my own, but I’ll admit my look can be a little unexpected. Not unprofessional, but unexpected. Most of my dresses are fairly tame, but occasionally, when we don’t have a client meeting, I’ll bust out something more fun.
Cooper never said a word about the dress covered in lollipops or the one with miniature pieces of sushi, but he noticed me wearing his old T-shirt?
Maybe he was the one who got hit on the head. Or maybe the pain pills were hitting me harder than I thought. I looked at the pile of clothes on the kitchen island and realized Cooper could be back any second.
Moving as fast as I could without aggravating my head, I grabbed the clothes and went to his bathroom to change. He might have cameras in his place, but even Cooper wouldn’t put them in the bathroom. He was controlling and overprotective, but he wasn’t a perv.
I changed into the lounge pants and hoodie Cooper had picked out and looked through his drawers for a comb or brush. My vanity wanted to demand Cooper go downstairs and get my makeup so I didn’t look like a sickly ghost when Agent Holley came to take my statement.
I pictured confessing to murder with my hair done and red lipstick on. Probably not the best idea. Wan and pathetic might be better.
I wasn’t up to makeup anyway, much less trying to do something with my hair. This might be the one time in my life when leaving my armor behind and looking like crap was the best plan.
Cooper returned with my laptop, handing it to me with a strict warning to behave myself. I wouldn’t put it past him to have keystroke tracking software installed or a second laptop on his desk so he could watch what I was doing, just to make sure I was following orders.
He didn’t have to worry. The general email box had piled up since the afternoon before, and after two hours of dealing with that, I didn’t have the energy to get into trouble.
I closed the laptop, set it on the coffee table, and curled into Cooper’s comfortable couch, my eyes sliding shut as soon as the throb in my head eased.
The sound of the door closing woke me. I sat up, still a little woozy but feeling much more myself. The pain meds from the morning had worked their way out of my system, and my head didn’t throb as badly as before.
Cooper hadn’t come alone. Beside him stood Agent Holley. A tall, lanky man with kind eyes, Agent Holley stared down at me with concern.
Cooper handed me another coffee, this one from the machine downstairs in the office. I moved to stand, but Agent Holley waved me back down.
“Don’t get up, Alice. It’s good to see you again. I just need you to take me through what happened yesterday.”
I did, surprised when Agent Holley put his notebook away after asking only a few follow-up questions.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” he confirmed, sharing a look with Cooper.
“Aren’t you going to tell me not to leave town or something?” I had to ask.
Agent Holley gave me a rare smile. “Don’t leave town, Alice.
I can’t formally let you off the hook yet.
This is still an active investigation. But from everything you’ve told me and what I saw at the scene, it’s clear that you were acting to defend not only yourself but Adam Spencer.
There was a bullet in the wall opposite the stairs.
Between your shot and the explosion you might have missed it, but Tsepov’s man fired on you. Adam Spencer is lucky you were there.”
My throat choked with useless fear at the thought of the bullet that could have killed me, a wave of relief washing the fear away. Agent Holley believed me. I wasn’t going to jail. Good news.
I nodded and shook the hand Agent Holley held out. I heard Cooper say, “Hold up a sec, I’ll walk you out,” before turning back to me. “What do you want for dinner? Do you need another pill?”
“Maybe something over-the-counter if you have it. No more of the stuff from the doctor. My head’s not that bad. I swear,” I added when Cooper looked like he was about to protest.
He checked the time on his watch, judged it had been long enough since the pills this morning, and brought me a small red and white bottle from the top shelf of the pantry. I washed two of the tablets down with the coffee.
“So, dinner?” he prompted.
“I should go home, get out of your hair—”
“Had enough of me already?” Cooper asked, that smirk curving his lips again.
“No, I just… I just thought I should probably go home,” I said, lamely.
Before, I’d wondered—was it the headache and pain pills throwing me off, or was Cooper being weird? Now the headache was manageable, the pain pills had worn off, and I knew for sure.
It wasn’t me.
Cooper was being weird.
“Sushi, Thai, or Italian?” he prompted.
Without a thought, out popped, “Italian. Lasagna. I need lasagna.” Lasagna was as good as chocolate or coffee when it came to smoothing away the rough edges of life. Melting cheese and pasta. Mmmm yeah, lasagna.
“Garlic knots?”
“Duh.”
Another grin that was half wicked and half smirk.
What was up with him? I wasn’t surprised he knew my dinner order.
Like the coffee, I was in charge of getting takeout most of the time, but Cooper knew what I ordered because he saw it on my desk.
The Italian place we got food from had the best garlic knots on earth.
I could make a meal just of their garlic knots.
“Lasagna with garlic knots it is. I’ll be back in an hour or two. Try to stay out of trouble until then.”
The lock turned on the door and I thought, I can’t help staying out of trouble when you keep locking me in.
I was stir crazy by the time Cooper came back, his hands laden with bags of takeout fragrant with tomatoes and garlic. My mouth watered and I realized I was starving.
He came around to the couch where I’d been stretched out flipping through channels on the TV. Placing the takeout bags on the coffee table, he dropped a kiss on the top of my head and disappeared saying, “Can you unpack those? I’ll be right back.”
Had Cooper just kissed me on the top of the head? I was the one who’d been knocked out, but Cooper was acting like he’d had a personality transplant.
Maybe none of this was happening. Maybe I was unconscious in the hospital and this whole thing was just a coma delusion.
I unpacked the take-out containers, lining them up on the coffee table. Two orders of lasagna, garlic knots, and tiramisu. I grabbed a garlic knot and sank my teeth in the yeasty, buttery bread.
It had to be a coma delusion. That was the only thing that made sense.
Otherwise, I couldn’t think of any reason I’d be sitting in Cooper’s apartment about to eat takeout with him.
Nine years we’d worked together and I’d never been in his apartment, much less eaten dinner here.
And Cooper had kissed me on the top of the head.
Coma delusion. Definitely.
He came back dressed in a T-shirt and cut-off sweats, dropping onto the couch beside me. Grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV, he asked, “This okay?”
I looked up to see a movie for rent, one we’d both talked about catching in the theaters and had missed.
“Sure.” I dug into my dinner. The pain pills had completely worn off and my appetite had come roaring back. Normally, a serving of lasagna from this place would hold me for two meals, but I tore through every bite and my share of the garlic knots, fighting Cooper for forkfuls of the tiramisu.
When I stabbed his hand with the tines of my fork, he gave me an accusing look.
I shrugged. “You should have ordered two. You know I love tiramisu.”
Stomach full, I leaned back into the couch to find Cooper’s arm behind me.
It closed around me, tugging me into his side.
My appetite appeased, headache down to a dull roar, my eyelids drooped.
Before I knew it, I was tucked into Cooper, my head resting on his chest. Cooper smelled of the ocean, of clean air and salt, and I breathed him in, the thump of his heart strong under my ear.
A flash of prickling panic shot through me, my heart kicking into a rapid beat as I realized where I was falling asleep. Laying against Cooper, his arm around me, my head on his chest.
What the hell? How did I end up here?
Coma delusion, I reminded myself. None of this is real. I’m going to wake up in the hospital with a killer headache and Cooper will be his normal self. All business. Bossy and annoying. No kisses on the head. No bringing me dinner. Just Cooper.
That thought should have been comforting.
It would have been, but I liked my coma delusion.
I liked the strength of his arm around me, his ocean scent in my lungs.
If I’d been at home alone, I wouldn’t be at peace, full and sleepy and safe.
I would have been restless, remembering what had happened in Knox’s basement, the feel of pulling the trigger, the roar of the blast, and everything going dark.
Not here. Not curled into Cooper, his heart beating under my ear, his arm holding me close. Cooper wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Ever. On that thought, I fell asleep.
I woke to the flicker of the TV screen and the weightless sensation of swinging through the air. Cooper standing, lifting me in his arms, holding me close against his chest. Carrying me.
Carrying me?
My brain tangled in sleep, it fell back in time to the mad flight from Knox’s house as I’d flickered in and out of consciousness aware only of Cooper’s strong arms holding me close.
Reality slowly settled around me. There was no smoke here. Cooper wasn’t running, just crossing the apartment in his normal stride. My eyes flicked open. I was in Cooper’s apartment. I shouldn’t be here. Coma delusion or not, it was time to go home.
I squirmed in his arms. “Cooper, put me down. Where are you taking me?”
“I’m taking you to bed.”
No reason those words should send heat spiraling through my body.
Cooper didn’t mean it like that. Of course, he didn’t.
I pushed at his arm. “Cooper, put me down. I need to go home. I’m fine.
I appreciate you taking care of me, bringing me dinner and everything, but my head is better.
I’m not taking any pain pills. I need to go home. ”
“Why?”
Dumbfounded, I lost my train of thought.
Why? What did he mean, why?
Slowly, I said, “Because I live there.”
Cooper ignored me and continued his path across the room.
“Cooper, seriously, put me down.”
I’d never really thought before about the difference in our sizes other than to note that Cooper was tall, really tall, and he wore it well.
Now, I was acutely aware that my small, slight frame had no chance against Cooper.
He held me immobile with barely any effort.
I would have liked it if it hadn’t been so annoying.
Ignoring my insistence that I needed to go home, he said, “Your head doesn’t hurt?”
Seizing on that excuse, I insisted, “No, I swear. It’s much better. Barely hurts at all. I’m totally fine. Just let me down and I’ll go home. If I need anything, I’ll call. Promise.”
Cooper stood in the shadowy darkness of the kitchen, eyes locked on my face. Again, he said, “Your head doesn’t hurt? You feel okay?”
“I’m fine,” I repeated, uneasy at his odd behavior. He should be ready to be rid of me by now. Shouldn’t he?
Cooper turned, and instead of putting me down, he set me on the island, his arms still around me, my knees on either side of his hips. I looked up, confused. What was going through his head? I couldn’t keep up.
Cooper cupped my chin in his fingers, tilting my head up. An odd, intent light in his pale eyes, he said, “I’ve been waiting for so long. Too long. I almost missed my chance. I won’t make that mistake again.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop being weird. For just a second, looking up at him in the near dark, I didn’t recognize the man holding my face in his hands.
This was not the Cooper I knew.
This man wasn’t all business, cool and driven. This man had molten blue fire in his eyes, his hands strong and gentle, his focus entirely on me. This man woke my body, left me needing something. Needing him.
“Cooper,” I whispered, not sure what I planned to say next. It didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have gotten the words out anyway.
His name on my lips, his eyes liquid flame, Cooper dropped his head and kissed me.
Yep. Definitely a coma delusion.