Hard to Forgive (Hard to Love Book 3)

by L. M. Reid

  And now I’ve come full circle, back to the one place my mind, and my heart, always lands – Cooper.

  Living in the same city with the man was bad enough. Having to work in the same building? Incomprehensible. Had I not physically touched him with my own hands, I wouldn’t believe this is real. Fate couldn’t be this cruel. Could it?

  And what is his problem anyway? The man came into my office looking for a fight, though I’m not quite sure why. Why is he so angry when I’m the one that was rejected and heartbroken? I’m the one who lost everything, not him. His misguided anger only fuels mine that much more. So much that I don’t feel the slightest bit guilty anymore about sticking him with Nina. In fact, I think I want to see my handiwork in action.

  Scooting out of my office, I head straight for the kitchen. Just as I suspected, Nina is all over Cooper. Not really sure how that is helping him select items for the restaurant, but the look on his face is certainly helping my mood.

  Cooper is standing at the makeshift table, his palms pressed to the wood. Nina, the interior designer, is more focused on Cooper than the china pattern. His face is filled with frustration, the playful grin he usually holds, gone.

  “How’s it going in here?” I ask as I enter the unfinished space.

  Nina folds her arms across her chest in protest of my presence. Cooper on the other hand rushes to my side in an instant leaving a very dejected Nina standing there. I’m not sure if he wants to hug me for saving him or kill me for putting him through this to begin with.

  “You’re going to pay for this,” he whispers to me before plastering a fake smile on his face. His hand on my lower back, ushering me further into the space, “Come see for yourself.”

  He guides me to the table where Nina is standing there pouting. I look over the patterns and colors, every single piece that she has laid out. None of which complements the theme of the Onyx like it should. Rather, it looks as though she’s spent the past two hours picking out china patterns and linens for her wedding which I am assuming she’s already decided that Cooper will be the groom at. Good luck with that sister.

  “Where did you come up with this concept?” I ask stifling my giggle at the continued attention she pays Cooper.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” she coos standing closer to Cooper than necessary. “They call it country chic.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I agree.

  Cooper’s eyes widen. “You like it?”

  “I do,” I state firmly making him sweat a little. “But…” I can see the relief wash over his face. “It really doesn’t go with the rest of the hotel. The Onyx is much more modern and…”

  “You like it, don’t you Coopie?” she asks as she bats her eyelashes at him.

  “I…uh…” he stutters.

  “It doesn’t matter what Coopie likes,” I inform her. “I have final say whether he likes it or not.”

  Clearly exasperated, she sighs. “Guess it’s back to the drawing board.”

  When it finally dawns on him that means he will have to spend more time with her he grabs my arm and pulls me to the side.

  “Nina, will you give us a minute, please?” I ask as Cooper drags me off.

  “Was this supposed to be a joke?” he asks clearly not amused. I respond with nothing more than a raise of my eyebrows. Messing with Cooper was always fun. “Is she even really an interior designer?”

  “Yes, of course she is.”

  “I still don’t hear a denial on this being some sort of joke,” he says. His hand is resting on the table and his eyes are focused on my face.

  Putting my thumb and forefinger together, “It was only a teensy little joke.”

  “Fix this, Mia. I can’t have this shit in my restaurant,” he says waving around the lacy fabric.

  He’s right. I need to fix this. The restaurant, it can’t open with what she’s got and frankly I’m not sure with Cooper present that her head will be in the right place.

  “I will,” I assure him. “I will get rid of her and I will help you get on the right track.”

  Fuck me. Did I really just offer to help him? As if I don’t have enough on my plate, I’m going to add to it the one thing I should be avoiding? He needs help though and I need his restaurant to be a success. Looks like I’m going to have to hike on those big girl panties and get the job done. Regardless of what it’s going to do to my heart.

  I call out to Nina who I am sure was eavesdropping anyway. She walks over to us, taking post next to Cooper in a possessive and unsettling way. When she does, he takes a step toward me. Sissy. You would think he’s never rejected a woman before. “I appreciate you coming out again, but Mr. Williams won’t need your services after all.”

  “And who’s going to help him? Hmm? You?”

  Her condescending tone infuriates me. I hand selected every piece for this hotel. I took the three ideas she put together and picked them apart to make one decent one. Even after that, she and I worked well together. That’s when it dawns on me, she’s not concerned about the design or who is putting it together. She just wants Cooper.

  Why her wanting him is bothering me, I will never know. I’m not the jealous type, never have been. Not even with Cooper. I was always secure in knowing that he wanted me. Is that it? Is this me being insecure? Knowing what this is and changing my course of thinking are two completely different things. I take a step toward her, “Yes, me. I happen to be well versed in Cooper’s desires, what his likes and dislikes are. I know how to please him.”

  With a puff, Nina storms away leaving Cooper and me alone.

  “What was that?” he asks. That smile of his is back and in full effect.

  “That was me, fixing it.” And being a completely jealous bitch.

  “That was hot.”

  “We can meet tomorrow,” I tell him ignoring his comment. I check the calendar on my phone. “I’m free at eleven. Will that work for you?”

  “Eleven it is,” he says.

  Giving him a quick nod, I head to the door.

  “Oh, and Mia?” he calls out.

  Stopping, I turn to look at him as he speaks. “Hmm?”

  “We’re going to have that conversation tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

  “Not if you want my help we aren’t.”

  15

  Cooper

  Edith’s eyes light up as I walk by her with a large brown bag that has an amazing aroma streaming from it.

  “What do we have here?” she asks getting up from her seat at the desk and following me into my office.

  “Lunch.” As I set the bag down on the desk, she moves to peek in it. I slap her hand away. “Not for you.”

  Holding her hands up in surrender she pretends to be offended. “Who’s it for then?”

  “Mia and I are having a meeting to go over some things for the restaurant so I thought I would make us lunch.”

  The look on Edith’s face makes me question my decision. She’s beaming from ear to ear as if this gesture means something when it doesn’t. It’s just my way of thanking her. She is doing me a favor after all. Well, two actually. The first being her saving me from myself and my lack of knowledge about all things style when it comes to outfitting a restaurant. Talk stoves to me baby, and I can go on all day. Linens, dishes, silverware? Not my speed. The second favor, saving me from Nina the interior designer. I’m not really sure how much I owe her for that one since she’s the one who got me in the situation to begin with.

  “Isn’t that sweet of you,” she says. “Two friends sharing a meal.”

  “Two co-workers sharing a meal,” I correct her. Shit. What was I thinking? Why did I make us lunch? It was just supposed to be a meeting, so why did I make it more?

  “Oh, Coop, why don’t you just admit -”

  “I admit nothing,” I say as I grab my stuff and head for the door. “She’s doing me a solid, so I thought I would do something nice in return. End of story.”

  Yep, just keep telling yourself that Coop. Maybe then y
ou’ll believe that it’s not the effect that seeing her has had on you. It’s not because you miss her. Nope, it’s strictly a thank you. Even I scoff at the thought because not only am I here setting the makeshift table with a tablecloth, I’m using one that’s her favorite color. And the food I prepared? Yep, those are all her favorites too. From the homemade chicken parmesan sandwich with a side of fries, to the cookie dough brownies I baked last night.

  Just as I finish setting everything out, she walks in with arms full of fabrics and books and God knows what else buried in there.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” I say as I rush over to her. Reaching for the items, my hand brushes against hers and the touch sends a jolt straight to my dick. Her eyes, wide like saucers, tell me that she felt it, too.

  Regaining her composure, she thanks me and walks toward the set-up. “What’s this?”

  “I made us lunch,” I reply as I smile proudly.

  “I am not having lunch with you,” she says in protest. Her delicate fingers, the ones that I can’t help but envision wrapped around my cock, point to the pile of items I set down. Namely, the Styrofoam boards she’s so immaculately put together. “I took the liberty of putting these together. I think they would work well to compliment the décor in the Onyx while still making it your own. Based on our history, I tried to gauge them to…”

  “Stop,” I tell her.

  “Stop what?”

  “The business voice. Come on Mia, this is me. Can we just have a real conversation without it sounding like we’re sitting in a boardroom?”

  “No. As I was saying, they’re geared toward colors and patterns I thought you would like. If you like those, that’s great. If not, we’ll have to go back to the drawing board and…”

  “Which one do you like?” I ask.

  “It doesn’t matter what I like.”

  “It matters to me,” I say matter-of-factly.

  She begins to walk toward the door. “Let me know what you decide.”

  “Where are you going?” I ask frustrated with her business persona and the fact that she’s walking away from me, yet again.

  “Back to work.”

  “We’re not finished yet.”

  “I’m doing this as a favor so you’re going to have to take what I give you.”

  Following after her, I grab her arm. Her head flies back, eyes shooting daggers at me and her pulse quickening beneath my touch. I step into her. Our bodies close, but not touching. My hand on her is more than enough to ignite whatever this is between us – years of desire, memories of how good we are. Whatever it is, it’s there and we both feel it. Thing is, she’s the only one trying to deny it right now. My restraint with her is lost.

  “But you haven’t had dessert yet,” I say softly. I tilt my head to the side, slowly heading to meet hers. “And I made it, just for you.” Still gripping her arm, my other hand moves behind her back to press her toward me and close the gap between us. I’m almost there, our lips nearly touching.

  She presses her palm to my chest. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want you to make any more mistakes.”

  “What the hell is your problem?” I shout at her letting her go and taking a step back.

  “My problem? I don’t have a problem.” She stands before me, hands on her hips looking every bit of the girl I remember. Her finger pokes my chest. “You are the one with a problem.”

  “Why do you seem so surprised after what you did?”

  “What I did?” she scoffs. “What the hell did I do?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I shout as I run my hands through my hair. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “And you aren’t answering the question. What did I do to you to make you hate me so much?” There is a hitch in her voice when she says the word hate.

  That’s just it, I wish I hated her. I wish I didn’t have to execute the restraint of a nun right now to not take her in my arms, not kiss her like I have been dying to since that night at Lust. I wish I didn’t feel like such a damn mess when it came to her.

  “You cheated on me Mia and then you ran,” I say holding my ground before her.

  Her head tilts to the side as she looks up at me confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Towering over her by at least eight inches, I stare her down. “I walked in on you and Duke,” I grit out. Visuals formulate in my head sparking a new wave of anger to fuel this fight.

  Her mouth falls open and an undeniable desire to shut it with my own takes over. Before I can, all hell breaks loose. Her hands fly to her hips; her eyes are filled with fury. “Walked in on me and Duke?”

  “I saw you with him. You were kissing, his hand up your dress. I know exactly where you were headed. Don’t try and deny it,” I tell her.

  “Duke and I kissed. That’s it. What you saw, that was all that happened. Besides, what does it even matter what I did or didn’t do with Duke? Hmm? You made it abundantly clear that we were never together.” She stalks toward me, her finger poking my chest. “I told you I loved you and you…” Another push of her finger, “You told me not to. You told me we aren’t together. That you don’t do relationships.”

  I remember the fight, the look on her face. It’s all too clear in my mind. One look into her hurt filled blue eyes and I regretted how I acted.

  “You took it back. You said it was a joke,” I argue with her recalling what had happened next. Yes, she told me she loved me. But then she told me she was joking. How the hell was I supposed to decipher what the fuck was going on?

  “And you didn’t even question it. You just accepted it and moved on.”

  “You’re the one who moved on, straight onto Duke’s dick.”

  “Oh, fuck you Cooper. Assume what you want, but nothing happened beyond that kiss because I loved you. What about you though? Huh? When I asked if you ever gave a damn about me – you shrugged your shoulders. You just fucking shrugged your shoulders. Who does that?”

  “I don’t know, maybe a guy who’s taken off guard. You…”

  “Don’t pin this on me. This…” she says gesturing her hand between us. “It’s all on you and your stupid I don’t do relationships bullshit. Newsflash Coop, you can’t spend every day with a girl for two years, fuck her, and not feel something. Anything.”

  “You knew how I felt. You knew that I didn’t want a relationship. I was always upfront with you about that.”

  “Actions speak louder than words and your actions spoke volumes. You made me feel special, you took care of me when I was sick, you…”

  “I was your friend.”

  “You were more than that, whether you want to admit it or not. Regardless, I deserved better than what you gave me, I deserved better than how you treated me that night. If you were my friend like you keep saying you were, you wouldn’t have acted like that. You would have done… something. You were my family Coop and with a shrug of your shoulders, you took that away.”

  The tough as nails girl that I know has tears streaming down her face right now. Tears that I know she hates that I can see. Looking at the situation with a whole new perspective, seeing what I did to her – it’s tearing me apart. Admittedly, I panicked when I heard her words. I reacted abruptly and harshly. Her taking her words back, telling me it was a joke? She’s right; I gave into it because it was the easy way out. I didn’t have to deal with it, or her, I just got to go back to the way things were. Or, at least, that’s what I thought would happen. Instead, she ended up with Duke before disappearing into the night.

  Why? Because I was scared and because I just wanted it to all go away.

  Hearing her call me her family, I realize now that none of this has to do with me not wanting a romantic relationship with her. I made her feel like I didn’t want any kind of relationship with her. I was so nonchalant about the whole thing, trying to shrug it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t until this very moment that I see that this is about what I took away from her - the family that she so desperately wanted. It’s why d
espite how she felt about me, she was willing to put up with my shit for so long and do things on my terms. She’s right, she deserved better than what I gave her. All she had was me. And all I did was hurt her.

  I fucked this up.

  Me. Not her.

  “Mia, you have to know that… God, I never meant to make you think I didn’t care. I did. I do. Fuck, baby, I never meant to hurt you.”

  “And I never meant to fall in love with you. Shit happens, I guess.”

  She turns away from me as she wipes away the tears desperate to compose herself and return to the all business persona that she takes with me. I’m not letting this go, I won’t drop it. Not when she’s right – about all of it. She didn’t cheat on me; she didn’t leave me. I pushed her away.

  “Is that why you left?” I ask. I stand behind her, unable to refrain from touching her another minute. My hands softly rub her arms trying to comfort her.

  My assumption had been that she left out of guilt, for having been with Duke. Now, it seems that isn’t the case. She was never with Duke. And she sure as hell didn’t leave because of him. She left because of me.

  “I left because I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t see that look in your eyes again, the one that looked almost disgusted by my admission. So, yes, I left, and I never looked back.”

  I want to fix this, make things right between us. But how? How do you make something better when you can’t give the person what they want? God knows I care about Mia, I do. I just can’t love her. Not like that, at least.

  “I’m sorry.” Two words. It’s all I can say. It doesn’t fix anything; it doesn’t make it better. It’s just all I have to give.

  She glances up at me. “Me, too.”