Chapter 5
The only comparable experience I had to being found by Cooper in a compromising position with Peter was being caught with Jason Abercrombie in the Abercrombie’s Newport boat house showing him “mine” in exchange for a look at “his.” We were five at the time, and I handled it well. I giggled.
I didn’t know what in the hell to do now. Giggling sure wouldn’t do it. Nor would jumping up and straightening an imaginary frock like a mortified maiden. I couldn’t begin to think of the ramifications of Cooper’s having caught us this way.
Bewildered, I looked at Peter, and in that instant several things struck me.
The first was that, even sitting, he was taller than I; my eyes just reached his nose.
The second was that, somewhere in the mindless course of his kiss, my hands had slipped around him; my fingers were clutching him dangerously low on his hard, bare hips.
The third was that that kiss had stirred up a storm in my belly that was in no way diminished by Cooper’s arrival.
Given my choice, I’d have sent Cooper away and gone back into Peter’s arms.
Of course, I could think that precisely because Cooper was there.
He was my safety net. If he hadn’t appeared, I’d be terrified by the train of my thoughts.
As it was, all I had to worry about was Cooper’s respect for me, Cooper’s respect for Peter, Cooper’s willingness to work with Peter after what he’d just seen—just seen? Continued to see.
With slow, measured movements, I withdrew my hands from Peter’s skin, but my eyes didn’t leave his. Silently they told him of my inner fear and begged him to say something, do something to salvage the situation.
For a minute there, I could have sworn Peter was as bewildered as I was. It was very subtle, but I’d spent so much time looking into his eyes that I could recognize something different when I saw it. I knew that he was thinking about the very same things I was.
To my relief, he took in an uneven breath, straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat, but it was to me he spoke, and in a quiet, intimate tone that suggested a new bond between us.
“I could use some of that breakfast you mentioned before—eggs, bacon and whatever muffins smell so good. Why don’t you go on downstairs?
I want to talk with Cooper for a minute, then I’ll shower and be down. ”
His voice wasn’t so low that Cooper couldn’t hear what he said, and since there was no immediate objection coming from the door, I guessed that Cooper was in favor of the talk.
I swallowed, took a breath of my own and slipped from the bed.
Though Cooper moved aside to let me pass, I stopped when I reached him and looked up into his face.
I wanted to apologize, or explain, but to do either would be an insult to Peter.
So, mustering a shred of humor, I said, “Watch what you say to him. He’s got nothing on. A man can get very defensive when he’s naked.” Without allowing him time for a rejoinder, I left the room and went directly downstairs.
Several minutes later, I was working off my worry beating eggs when I heard the shower go on upstairs. Within a handful of seconds, Cooper entered the kitchen. Determined to be nonchalant, I said, “Will you have breakfast? I made fresh muffins.”
“It’s a little late for breakfast.”
The stove clock read noon. “Brunch, then.” I frowned. “You’re early. You weren’t due until one.”
“I was sitting home, wondering what he was doing to earn the hefty fee you’re paying him.” He paused and added dryly, “Interesting what I found.”
I would have felt awful had not I caught sight of the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “You think this is funny,” I accused.
Cooper gave a tiny move of his head that I knew for a shrug. “What I think,” he specified, “is that I’ll never forget the look on your face when you turned around and saw me there.”
I was embarrassed. “You should have called from downstairs.”
“I did.”
“Oh.” Again I caught that twitch, and while I didn’t begrudge Cooper a moment of lightness what with all else he was going through, I wished it weren’t at my expense. “What did he say to you?”
“That his intentions are honorable.”
I snorted. “Sounds like he thinks you’re my father.”
“Not exactly. He asked if I minded the competition.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that I wasn’t competition for him, but that if he ever did the slightest thing to hurt you, I’d tear him apart.”
It was the kind of Cooper statement, offered without the slightest show of emotion, that made me love the man.
Unable to resist, I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a tight hug.
I stepped back before he could protest. He wasn’t one for grand demonstrations of affection. I never liked to push the issue.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said, then quietly went back to making breakfast.
“Are you sure you want me to stay?”
The question was loaded. I looked him in the eye. “Yes. I want you to stay.”
“You wouldn’t rather be alone with him?”
I’d come to my senses. The passion attack was over.
I could think clearly again. “No. Stay, Cooper.” I looked down at the bacon I was trying to separate.
“I don’t want to become involved with Peter, but it’s like there’s a force that pulls us together.
At the height of the pull, I’m someone else.
All the rest of the time, I’m me. It’s … disturbing.”
Cooper was silent for a minute. “Then take it slow.”
“Fine for you to say. Ever tried to stop a wave from breaking?” I eyed him beseechfully. “How do I do it, Cooper? How do I stop it?”
“Do you really want to?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s pointless. It has nowhere to go. I don’t have room for a man like that in my life.”
“Come on, Jill.”
“I don’t!”
“You have room. You could make room.”
He was serious. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the comment he’d made the afternoon before about my buying a condo in the city with the money I was willing to spend on legal fees.
“It’s time,” he’d said, and he was serious then, too.
He’d never said anything like that to me before.
I wondered whether the change had something to do with the smuggling business, and, if so, what.
“If I didn’t know better,” I said, “I’d think that you were encouraging me.”
“I think you should follow your instincts.”
“But what about Adam?”
“What about him?”
“I loved him.”
“I know you did. But he’s dead. You won’t be breaking any rules by enjoying Peter.”
“You are encouraging me.”
He repeated that small semi-shrug. “You could do with a good tumble.”
“Cooper—”
“I’ll stay for breakfast, Jill. And I’ll stick around after that if you want me to. But I can’t stay forever. If it isn’t Peter, it’ll be another guy someday. You weren’t meant to be a widow forever. You’re a beautiful person. You deserve more than that.”
As I studied Cooper in the aftermath of his words, I wondered—and not for the first time—why he and I had never become more deeply involved.
I supposed that Adam would always come between us, but there was more to it than that.
Something was missing. The spark wasn’t there.
Thank heavens it was mutual, or our friendship would never have worked. I cherished that friendship.
“Just stick around,” I whispered through a tight throat and went at the bacon again. Beside me, Cooper put a fresh pot of coffee on to brew. We worked in a companionable silence for a time until Peter joined us. Then preparation for Cooper’s case began in earnest.
The rest of the weekend was dominated by that case.
I wasn’t sure whether Peter was compensating for having been caught fooling around, or whether he was that dedicated to the law.
I didn’t think it was that he’d lost interest in me, because though he didn’t try to kiss me again, the awareness remained.
It was there each time his eyes lit on mine, whether he was reviewing facts with Cooper in my kitchen, or talking with the townsfolk in their homes, in the back room of the grocery store or in Sam’s Saloon.
Still, he didn’t try to kiss me again.
Saturday night he stayed downstairs reading long after I’d gone up to bed.
Sunday morning he slept late again, but when I knocked on his door at the appointed hour of eleven, he awakened quickly.
Not long after that he came downstairs for breakfast newly showered and looking ruggedly handsome in his limb-loving jeans and sweatshirt.
I was surprised that he hadn’t brought down his bag.
I had expected him to leave that day to drive back to New York, but it seemed that he planned to spend the entire first half of the week with us.
I wasn’t sure whether I was pleased or not.
“It makes sense to do all the groundwork now,” he explained. “The more I know at this point, the more effectively I can decide what has to be done to put together a good case.”
The problem was that we weren’t coming up with anything new.
Granted, the townspeople were nearly as close-mouthed as I’d feared, still they talked.
We spent time with nearly two dozen different people, and neither Peter’s gentle questioning nor my supporting presence succeeded in prying out information that would be a help to Cooper.
We learned that he was well liked and respected, which I, for one, already knew.
But no one could prove a plausible motive for diamond smuggling—for either Cooper or any of his crew.
With the exception of Benjie, we spoke with each member of that crew, and though they were nearly as wary as their neighbors, we couldn’t find anything in what they told us to merit a second look.
By the end of Monday, we’d scoured most of the town. Sitting down with Cooper and me over dinner that night, Peter talked frankly about his plans.