Chapter Sixteen #2
"I didn't know Cooper was seeing someone," I said.
I knew all of the Sinclairs well enough, except for Axel, who lived in Las Vegas. Lucas and Riley worked for Sinclair Security, and I hung out with all of them here and there.
The Sinclair brothers had spent most of the summer doggedly trying to discover what had happened to their father, carefully and systematically untangling the threads of the mess Maxwell Sinclair had created and then left in their laps.
Evers had dropped out of sight for a while, working an angle on the case, according to Lucas.
He hadn't made much progress in the investigation, but he'd reappeared with a woman at his side.
I'd never seen her before, and no one else seemed to know her, but her last name was Winters and she and Evers did not look like they'd just met.
Knox, the middle brother, had left Atlanta for over a month and returned with company.
Based on the way he held his date in his arms as they danced in a dark corner, I thought that while he might not have been happy about what he’d discovered while he was gone, he'd agree the trip had been worth it.
But Cooper… Cooper had been holding down the fort in Atlanta, chasing leads from the main office while his younger brothers had been out in the field.
He'd said something the last time I saw him about being ready to make his move, and I'd assumed he was talking about his father's case, but watching him, the tension in his shoulders and the angry glare in his dark eyes, I wondered if he hadn't meant the woman in front of him.
"That's not his date," Evers said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "That's our office manager, Alice."
"You sure she's not his date?" Annabelle asked as we all watched Cooper close his fingers around Alice's upper arm and haul her from the ballroom, teeth gritted. She let him pull her away, stomping along beside him, her jaw clenched as tight as his, rage spitting from her eyes.
Evers shook his head again, this time in clear amusement.
"Maybe that means he's going to figure his shit out sooner rather than later."
Annabelle hummed in the back of her throat, and I wondered why it seemed like everybody was getting the girl except for me.
As if he read my thoughts and found them amusing, Evers plucked the champagne glass from Annabelle's hand, lifted it to her lips, said, "Drink up," and tilted it into her mouth.
She sputtered a little as she swallowed, but laughed. Evers shoved the glass into my hand and pulled Annabelle to the dance floor where he swung her around in a fast-paced combination of a swing dance and a foxtrot.
I wasn't quite sure what he was doing, but he and Annabelle were having fun.
I was getting tired of watching her dance with other men. I wanted her to dance with me. I wanted her in a dark corner, or up in my room.
I just wanted her, and the waiting was starting to wear thin.
Annabelle was laughing when she came back. "Having fun?" I asked, my irritation fading at the happiness in her eyes.
When was the last time Annabelle had a night off? I'd bet it had been years. I wasn't going to ruin it for her by being a jealous grouch.
My mood lifted when she pulled away from Evers to take her place by my side, sliding an arm around my waist, leaning into my chest, her shining cinnamon hair spilling over the sleeve of my suit.
I looked down to see another glass of champagne in her hand.
"How much of that have you had?" I asked.
"I don't know," she said, looking at the full glass and blinking as if it had appeared in her hand out of nowhere. "A few? I haven't been keeping count."
"Maybe you should take it easy."
I knew she didn't drink much. A beer after work sometimes, but that was it. Champagne could hit hard, especially if you weren't used to drinking, and I didn't think she wanted to deal with the hangover in the morning.
Sound rumbled in the back of her throat. "Hey, not telling you what to do," I reassured. "If you're hungover, I'll bring you the aspirin."
She relaxed into me again and took a sip. It felt good, standing there with her, smelling her warm sugar cookie scent, feeling the way her body fit to mine. I hadn't even kissed her yet and it felt like she belonged exactly where she was.
By my side. In my arms.
My mind drifting, I watched the couples across the room. Evers had reclaimed his date and she leaned into him, looking up into his face, her eyes bright with emotion. Not lust, not the flash of an affair. Something deeper. Something that took time to grow.
"Why don't I believe those two met while he was looking into his father?"
"Because they didn't," she said simply. "They've been seeing each other, kind of, for a while.”
"I never heard him mention a girlfriend."
Annabelle shrugged, a little smile playing across her lips.
"How did you know?" I demanded, not liking that smile over another man's secret, even if he was an old friend and the secret was his love for another woman. Fuck, but I was turning into a jealous bastard.
Annabelle shrugged one shoulder. "Evers comes by for coffee a couple times a week. Usually when we're not that busy. I don't have time to hang out like I used to, but we always get a few minutes to catch up."
I knew it wasn't reasonable. I wasn't a jealous guy. I’d never been jealous before. I'd never had a woman I cared about enough to bother. I'd always figured, hey, if she wanted someone else, she was welcome to go.
But with Annabelle…
Maybe it was all the waiting. Being close, but not close enough. Wanting to touch her and holding myself back.
When I thought of Annabelle and Evers having coffee together, sharing confidences, my stomach turned sour and I heard myself say, "Are you sure he's coming by for coffee?"