Chapter 5
COOPER
Present day
Stephanie’s across the kitchen staring at me with what—I think—she means to be a death glare, but it’s so adorably non-threatening that I involuntarily laugh a little bit.
She starts pacing next to Sam with her arms folded across her chest. I’ve noticed that she moves like this when she’s excited, trying to work something out in her brain, or upset. Based on how the morning is going, my bet is on the last.
I don’t care that her hair looks slept in or that her clothes are wrinkled, she’s still as beautiful as she was on the first day I saw her.
We first ran into each other—literally—before Deke’s wedding, but later, when I saw her alone with Lou, I was completely smitten.
I immediately tried to find out everything I could about her, and there’s nothing I don’t like—other than the fact that, for reasons I don’t understand, I seem to be her nemesis.
This morning was the only exception. At least until she started pummeling me with a pillow.
But waking up holding a version of Stephanie that didn’t tense up and pull back when she saw me—even if only for a few seconds—was incredible.
Her sleepy, soft-brown eyes and full lips were begging me to stare at them for hours.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. She soon realized who I was and started screaming.
Stephanie takes my arrival into the kitchen as her cue to begin some kind of hearing to prove I’m guilty of something.
She’s really outdoing herself this morning in her contempt for me.
She addresses Deacon and points directly at me.
“He climbed into my bed last night, and . . . and that’s such a Mallory-move. ” The words sound bitter on her tongue.
I’m so tired and hungry that I don’t have the energy to try and win her over today.
“First, that’s not true. All I know is that I went to bed alone and woke up with you there.
” I walk to the refrigerator and open it, eager to put some food in my body.
“Second, you wouldn’t know a Mallory-move if I drew you a map and plugged the GPS coordinates into your phone. ”
I hear Deke make a gagging sound, like he’s trying to swallow a laugh, before quietly saying, “Not helping, Coop.”
Sam, still eating her Lucky Charms, leans forward, completely invested in this ridiculous conversation.
Nothing is in the fridge, so I turn around to rummage through the cabinets and notice that Stephanie’s still pacing. “I got here at three this morning, and that bed was empty. Empty, Mallory!”
“If you got here at three, then I was already in the bed.” I shoot her an exasperated look.
“Liar.” Her voice has a defensiveness and desperation about it—something I rarely hear from her. “I never would have done that!”
“Liar?” My eyebrows fly up, and I bark out a laugh. “Are you going to use the ‘pants on fire’ argument against me now?”
She begins talking about . . . honestly, I don’t even know, because fatigue and hunger are killing my focus. I return to searching for food.
When the room falls silent, I look up to find Stephanie expectantly waiting for an answer to something.
Sam is still eating, eyes darting back and forth between us like we’re playing in a tennis match to the death.
Deke’s avoiding looking at anyone. They’re all waiting for me to respond to something, but I have no idea what was said.
In the quiet, I hear my stomach yelling something like, Let’s end this, find some food, and go back to sleep! Personally, I love this plan.
Stephanie seems to dislike me for reasons I can’t figure out, but this morning’s mood is much worse than normal, so how much more unpleasant can it get?
I shouldn’t smile, but I can’t help it. I walk over and stand a little closer to her than she probably prefers.
This stops her pacing, and her eyes go wide and her chin snaps up.
I’m six foot two, and she’s around five foot seven, so I don’t need to lean down much to invade her space even more.
“Stephanie, I got here around two o’clock this morning.
I walked in, turned the nightstand lamp on, and threw my suitcase on the bed.
I opened it, grabbed my toothbrush, brushed my teeth, put my suitcase in the corner, took my pants and shirt off, and then crawled across the empty bed to turn the lamp off before going to sleep.
” I move a fraction of an inch closer, and Stephanie’s chin lifts ever so slightly.
“When I woke up this morning, you were curled up on my shoulder, like a bear cub hunkered down for the winter. Your hand”—I hold her gaze while lifting her hand like a trophy and pressing it firmly against my chest—“was resting on my chest, like this.”
She doesn’t immediately remove her hand, and the expression on her face is one I’ve not cataloged before. “I climbed into bed with you?” It’s half question, half statement, and she looks genuinely shocked at this new revelation.
I lean in and lower my voice. “Absolutely. And you looked as happy as I’ve ever seen any woman waking up in my bed.”
No one says anything. Even Sam has stopped eating.
Stephanie’s face slowly drains of color, and she starts scanning different spots on the floor, as if she’ll find what to say down there.
“I . . .” her eyes become glassy as she takes a step back, taking her hand with her.
“I . . . guess I owe you an apology.” Stephanie becomes stripped of animosity and accusatory glares.
When it comes to dealing with me, this is new, and I’m thrown.
“Please forgive me for the way I’ve treated you this morning.
I really had no idea you were there. I guess I was so tired,” a weary sag of her shoulders fills the brief pause, “that I simply walked in and laid down. I’m really sorry. ”
She seems genuinely upset that I was in the bed first, but I can’t figure out why. What am I missing? This entire situation was simply a strange set of circumstances.
Even more baffling is that she’s been biting my head off all morning, but the second she realized she was wrong, she instantly gave me an apology. Add this to the long list of reasons why I think she’s incredible. This woman has no guile.
She holds my eyes for a brief moment and then heads for the bedroom door. Before entering, she turns back. “I hate to break it to you, Mallory, but if that’s the happiest anyone’s ever been waking up in your bed, it doesn’t speak very highly of your skills in the bedroom.”
I can’t help it—a full smile breaks out on my face. It was a brilliant comeback, and I’m a little energized that she’s going for banter instead of bitterness. That was banter, right?
When I turn around, Sam and Deke are both fixed on Stephanie’s closed door with less than entertained looks on their faces. My confidence wavers.
So maybe not banter?
Sam stands up, her expression somewhere between sorry and disappointed, and heads for Stephanie’s bedroom door. I have no idea what’s going on, but I have an urge to defend myself. “Sam?—”
She cuts me off with a look at her husband. “Deke.”
When I swing my focus to him, he’s moving toward the back door and looking at me like I really need to follow him. “Come on, Cooper.”
“But . . .”
“Cooper!” Both Deke and Sam are emphatic, but Sam’s voice is irritation while Deke’s is pleading.
I quickly consider who I’m most afraid of, and it takes less than a nano-second to realize: definitely Sam. I head for the back deck, where Deke is anxiously waiting for me. Just before I slip out, I turn toward Sam. “You are glowing, Sam, and I’ve never seen you look so?—”
“Go outside, Cooper.” Sam turns her back on me and goes into the bedroom with Stephanie.
The warm morning air hits my face as I step outside, and it’s a nice sensation. Especially compared to whatever just went down inside.
The back deck spans the width of the entire duplex.
It has all of the appropriate patio furniture plus a hammock, grill, and four stairs that lead directly onto the sand, the ocean waiting about fifty feet away.
Surrounding the decking are large fragrant plants that fill the air with a fresh, tropical scent. I love this place.
I take a moment to breathe in the ocean air and clear my head, but I stop when I catch Deke’s expression. I let out an exhausted sound instead of the contented sigh I was planning on. “Deke, I don’t have the energy to sort it out. Just tell me what went wrong in there.”
His eyebrows draw up. “Are you serious, Coop? ‘As happy as I’ve ever seen any woman waking up in my bed’? What the heck was that about?”
I laugh as I remember the little barb she threw at me before going back into her room. “You know I was kidding about that.”
“Obviously I know you weren’t serious, but she doesn’t. That little comment isn’t going to get you on her good side.”
“At this point, I can’t think of anything that would. Nothing I say or do around her seems to matter.” I run my hands down my face.
“I’ve never understood the dynamic between the two of you. Sam and I both thought you were going to get along great, but turns out, it’s been a train wreck.” He lets out a small breath. “It sure hasn’t turned out the way we hoped it would.”
“It hasn’t turned out the way I hoped it would either. I used to hate the way other women treated me, but after Stephanie, I’d almost prefer it.” I look up at the sky and let out a defeated groan. “There’s a strong possibility I made a lot of mistakes in there.” I crack an eye open.
He’s giving me a grimace—the kind reserved for someone who walks face-first into a sliding-glass door.
“The whole situation is going to hit Stephanie differently than it would most people, and a few of your comments didn’t help.
It’s nothing anyone would have expected you to understand, so don’t beat yourself up.
Just apologize when you get the chance, and hope for the best.”