Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Pete and I had caused trouble together and been grounded together.
No matter what, we’d always had each other’s backs.
Distance had grown between us during my marriage to Steve.
My fault, really. Steve and Pete hated each other.
Steve hated Pete because we were so close, and Pete despised my husband because his asshole radar was much better than mine.
Pete’s close marriage to Kristi had made it worse.
I adore Kristi, have since the first time Pete shyly introduced us.
She was sweet and feisty and absolutely devoted to my brother.
What more could I ask for in a sister-in-law?
But it was hard sometimes, seeing them so happy, knowing my marriage was missing so much and having no idea how to fix it.
When I called Pete to tell him I was getting a divorce, he’d said, “Thank God,” and left it at that. My first weekend home after my announcement, my brothers took me out to get drunk, never mentioning Steve or my disaster of a marriage. They were the best.
Pete hadn’t demanded an explanation about the end of my marriage, probably because he was so grateful it was over he didn’t want to jinx it. I wouldn’t be so lucky this time. He let me off the hook while he helped me get out of Atlanta, but that wouldn't last.
I didn't care. I’d tell Pete everything once I was out of Cooper’s reach. If he caught up with me… It wasn’t that I thought he’d lock me up or force me to stay. Cooper isn’t a monster.
I was furious and hurt, but he was still Cooper, one of the best men I’ve ever known. That’s what I was afraid of. I needed space, needed to think.
If he asked me to stay with his heart in those striking ice-blue eyes, I might give in. I might give him everything he wanted. And I might hate myself for it later.
The transition from my ride to the car Pete had reserved was seamless.
Forty-five minutes after I'd left the Sinclair Security building I was on the road to North Carolina. The drive was uneventful. I grabbed a coffee, but I didn’t need it.
I was too wired on adrenaline to need caffeine.
For five hours I sped through the night, ignoring the speed limit and doing my best to think of anything but Cooper.
I found the cabin in the dim light of the rising sun, the key exactly where Kristi’s text message said it would be.
The place was small and basic, the air stale from disuse, but it had air conditioning.
I locked the doors behind me, clicked on the AC, and texted my brother to let him know I’d arrived safely.
Once that was done, I collapsed into one of the beds, not even bothering to put on sheets, too tired and heartsick to deal with anything.
Waking after a few hours of restless sleep, I found coffee and a loaf of bread in the freezer. I could have tracked down a grocery store, but I couldn't seem to muster the energy. My chest ached, and I wanted to crawl back in bed, shove my head under the pillow and shut out the world.
Every time I closed my eyes I heard Lacey's accusations echo in my ears, Cooper telling me he forgave me, and tears would flood my eyes.
How could he have thought—
No. I couldn't process it yet. Maybe it would have been easier if Maxwell hadn’t been such a creep, if I hadn't stayed faithful to my husband all those years despite finding out later that he'd been cheating on me the whole time.
But there I was, honest and loyal while the men in my life thought nothing of sleeping with anything in a skirt, and I was the one accused of being a whore.
The injustice of it burned in my gut, in my heart, a conflagration that my feelings for Cooper couldn’t extinguish.
The whole thing got to me deep down, bringing back the sense of failure that had haunted the end of my marriage.
I thought I was so smart. Life had proven I was anything but.
Steve had been cheating on me practically from the honeymoon and I’d had no clue.
Maxwell lied about me to everyone I worked with and I was none the wiser.
I wasn't who I thought I was. I’d never be the person I wanted to be. Now I was sleeping with my boss, and he thought I was the slut his mother called me.
Cooper had pulled the rug out from under my feet, and I’d landed smack on my ass with no clue what to do next.
He said he didn't care anymore that I'd slept with his father.
He didn’t care anymore, which meant that for years he had cared.
For years he’d looked at me and seen a woman who’d thrown out her wedding vows to sleep with her boss. Who was sleeping with her boss again.
A small voice in the back of my head piped up to point out that if Cooper thought I'd slept with his father I should have been forever off-limits. If he’d gotten past it enough to pursue me, he must want me an awful lot. It wasn’t like Cooper was desperate. He could have anyone.
I wasn't ready to absorb that part of it. His desire for me felt like a tainted consolation prize after the hit of finding out he thought I’d been sleeping with his father.
I spent Sunday morning curled up on the couch, sipping on endless cups of stale coffee, nibbling on toast, and feeling sorry for myself.
Around mid-afternoon, just when my stomach was starting to demand real food, the crunch of tires sounded on the gravel outside, scaring the living daylights out of me.
No. I wasn't ready.