Chapter 39
Cooper
With hands dusted in flour, Judy smiled at me over the mixing bowls, her knowing eyes narrowed.
“How’s Evangeline?” I asked, saying her name aloud for the first time in five years.
She glanced up at me, a brow raised, and I wanted to flee. To take back even asking. Why did I care? I was busy, I was happy, I was mostly satisfied with my life.
“Was that painful to ask?” she smirked, and I scoffed forcefully.
“Of course not.” I lied.
“She’s good, Coop. But you could ask her yourself. Come over for dinner one of these days. Once every five years isn’t enough,” She teased, and I smiled.
“I definitely will.” I lied again. “But I do love our dinners when you come to the city too.”
“I know. I know. I just want to cook for you. But, don’t worry,” she said, soft and certain. “You’ll marry my daughter one day.”
I blinked, startled at the bold statement and she laughed, warm and light just like Evy’s.
“She’ll test your patience with her endless questions,” she added, “but she’ll keep your heart full of love and your stomach full of sugar. And really, that’s all a good man needs.”
“What are you two talking about?” Sebastian asked, returning to the kitchen we spent many years pilfering food from while Judy tried to make us wait for dinner.
“Just talking to my future son-in-law about your sister.” She answered calmly, as if that were entirely normal.
Seb’s gaze darted to mine, and I threw my hands up defensively shaking my head.
“Oh, relax, Sebby,” Judy said, “I’m only joking.”
I just shrugged at my mate who was still scowling, while I was caught somewhere between a smile and something deeper.
Something heavier. Because at that moment, in this very kitchen, with the smell of cookies and kindness and familiarity wrapped around me like a second skin, I was reminded of everything they’d always given me.
Family.
Not the one I was born with. The one I wanted to stay with.
I woke to the soft clatter of utensils and the warm scent of pancakes wafting through the air. Still half-asleep, I quickly brushed my teeth before heading toward the kitchen and stopping cold in the doorway.
There she was.
Wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts, barely long enough to cover that gorgeous, plush arse, and equally as desirous, the engagement ring that gleamed on her hand.
Those large green headphones sat snug over her ears, strands of hair falling from the bun perched on her head.
Her glasses slipped down her nose as she moved, hips swaying, completely lost in the task at hand.
Waking to find her in the kitchen was a dream I didn’t realise I’d been chasing. She was the sexiest little thing I’d ever seen, bare legs, soft thighs and a hint of skin with every movement. My shirt clung to her in the best ways, and all I could think about was how badly I needed her.
She was plating the last of the pancakes, still oblivious to my perusal as she retrieved the berries from the fridge. I watched as she stilled, obviously having felt my presence, before she reached to remove her headphones, a breathtaking grin tossed over her shoulder towards me.
“Leave them on,” I growled, my voice still rough with sleep.
The discordant sounds of Chris Isaak pulsed through the headphones before she obeyed, an anticipatory look in her now wide eyes.
Desire crashed over me like waves. Seeing her here like this, in my shirt, wearing my ring, preparing food for me like it was just another morning.
After everything that had happened last night, it was too much.
Spinning her toward me, I kissed her hard, my tongue seeking her taste.
The sweet hint of honey mixed with heat coated her mouth and without breaking the kiss, I lifted her up onto the bench, moving into the space between her spread thighs.
I tugged her shirt up exposing her swollen breasts.
Moving down her neck, I sucked one nipple, then the other, until she arched beneath me, soft gasps muffled by the music in her ears.
Glancing down, my cock throbbed in my sweats at the sight of her glistening pussy. Every inch of her was ready, slick and pulsing with need, already mine before I even touched her there. Laying her back, eyes narrowing with dark satisfaction, I trailed kisses down her thighs.
“Let me take that ache away, baby. I want to taste how much you need me.” I let my lips rest just shy of her centre as I whispered, letting my voice sink into her tight cunt like a promise.
And just like that, my day began, nothing like I’d ever imagined, and everything I’d ever wanted when she filled my mouth with her pleasure.
Hopping off my bike, I looked up at the house.
It was quiet, clean, and sterile. The same as it always was and a complete contrast to when I left the other night.
After spending the last few days mostly talking with Evangeline, I knew it was time to face the music and despite her offering, it was something I needed to do alone.
I didn’t bother knocking, they would have heard the bike even if no one alerted them to my arrival, and I walked through until I found them both in the kitchen.
Seeing them here together was almost unnerving.
I couldn’t remember the last time they’d sat at the table together as if it were a regular Sunday afternoon and we were a regular family.
My phone and emails had been eerily silent - no attempts to apologise, justify or even berate.
But after the forensic trail led all the way back to Dane’s Real Estate, the truth was undeniable; the person behind the decade-long deceit was my own fucking father.
He’d led the charge to steal from me and he’d done it from the beginning and on countless occasions.
It was Evangeline’s suggestion to bring Samantha in, and to her credit, she’d been more than willing to help.
I hadn’t formalised anything legally, but they didn’t know that.
For now, calling their bluff was enough.
Preston Dane had never been a good man, and there was no telling how long the theft would have continued if Evy hadn’t been so damn thorough.
Thanks to her, I was able to pin down exactly who was involved.
Grant was long gone and would find it pretty fucking difficult to get another job in the industry thanks to the depth of my contacts.
Samantha had also uncovered some shady dealings in Marcus’ operations, which led to an immediate shutdown.
I only wished I’d been there when he was told, knowing he’d owned that gym for nearly thirty years and would have been seething.
And Eva had agreed to stay on at Golden Spades full-time. Unless she got a better offer, she’d said, wearing that damn edible smile.
“Cooper.” My mother stood, coming towards me with her practised tight-lipped smile and I held up a hand to stop her. “Would you like a drink?” She asked nervously.
Even after the other night she was going to pretend everything was fine, offering me a drink like I was here for fucking afternoon tea.
“No. We need to talk.” I snapped in a no-nonsense tone.
My father finally turned towards me. His face was a mess of swelling and bruises, darkened and ugly. One eye was nearly shut, a split lip to match and my fist tingled at the memory.
But otherwise, I felt nothing. No guilt. No second thoughts.
He sat stiffly, trying to wear calm like the well-fitted suit adorning his back but his eyes betrayed him.
There, behind the composure, was a flicker of something volatile - like he was waiting for a reason.
Only, I wasn’t scared. And he knew it. The other night proved that to him, and I’d do it again if I had to, with less remorse and no coming back to talk.
My mum sat down, her face holding a new kind of stillness. Like the persona she always wore had shattered and all that remained was concern for the lost lifestyle.
“Why?” I directed to my father. I didn’t need to bullshit. I wasn’t here for denials. But I wanted the reason. The why behind it all.
He stared at me in silence, and for a moment, I didn’t think he’d answer at all. Then he scoffed - that fucking scoff he’d given me so many times before - a sign of dismissal as if he owed me nothing.
It was clear in that second that I wasn’t getting anything from him. If there even was an answer to give.
So, I gave him mine instead.
“Ten years.” I let the words sit, heavy.
“You’ve been stealing from me for ten years.
All while looking me in the eye and pretending I was the disappointment.
You mocked my business, refused to touch the whiskey I built from the ground up.
Called it a phase. A hobby. A joke. But the only joke in this room was you. ”
He shook his head, a bitter laugh under his breath.
“I used to think you were just cold. Distant. Obsessed with money and work. Now I see it for what it was - jealousy. Your company is crumbling, isn’t it? And instead of owning that, you sank your claws into mine. Took what I made. Lied. Stole.”
“You know nothing.” My father sneered, his eyes bloodshot, his hands shaking ever so slightly. “You think you know everything, son, but you would be a nobody without me.”
And it was my turn to scoff. My turn to realise there was no getting through to someone like him. A narcissist who was never going to accept any wrongdoing. I stepped closer, my voice low and controlled, my hands itching to ruin him but knowing he deserved nothing more from me. Including my anger.
“When everything comes crashing down, and I promise you it will, you won’t get to play the victim. You’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
Turning to my mother, I softened my tone, but only slightly. The disappointment and hurt cut deeper than the rage with her.
“And you? You were complicit. You watched it happen. You left me, your only child, to be raised by housekeepers and strangers while you played the role of dutiful wife.”
Pausing, I caught my breath, washing the sadness away as memories of what I did have flashed forth.
“But I got lucky. I met Sebastian. Judy became the parent I never had. She gave a damn and she never once blamed me when I came home with bruised knuckles. She asked me why.”
My voice hardened as visions of another woman rose to the surface. The same woman who’d always been on my side right next to her brother and mother.
“And for either of you to dare belittle Evangeline - after everything she’s done for me, everything she’s fought for - is pathetic. She’s stood by me more than either of you ever have. She is what family looks like.”
I looked between them before glancing out towards the pool where I spent my teen years, surrounded by my friends, while searching for the love which should have come from family.
“We might be blood. But we aren’t family. Not anymore. If you come near her, or us, ever again, I promise you, those bruises will feel like a mercy. I won’t just break you, I’ll bury whatever is left.”
Without a second glance, I walked away from the wreckage of a life built on silence and pain, from the hollow shell of people who failed to love me.
And it was visions of her that consumed me as I rode down the long drive, heading toward the warmth and comfort of all she was, waiting for me in a life I was desperate to start.