Road Trip with the Best Man

by Sophie Pembroke

  Coming back from that, proving to his father and the board that he could be trusted again, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. But he’d done it by setting his own rules. By understanding that everyone wanted something from you, and you had to figure out the cost before you decided if it was worth paying.

  Then his dad had died and he’d taken over the company, and for a long time work had been more important than anything else. And, when he’d finally had time to breathe again, he’d known who he was. He’d known what he had—money and power. He’d known what people wanted from him. And he’d made damn sure only to give it away on his own terms—until Rachel.

  Rachel had broken past his walls, made him believe that she wanted something else, something no one had ever wanted from him before. Love.

  He’d given it all to her—and it had nearly destroyed him.

  Love, he’d decided, was the most illogical thing of all.

  But he had a feeling that the damned tree in the rock had inspired Dawn to go and chase it again.

  Just hopefully not with his brother.

  They swapped seats after a swift late lunch in a roadside diner, Dawn sliding in behind Claudia’s wheel as if she’d been driving her all her life. She cranked up the radio—still playing Elvis—and started singing along, mangling the words so badly that Cooper couldn’t help but join in on the chorus.

  She beamed at him as he sang, and he rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t really singing, even though he obviously was.

  Still, as the skies started to grow orange and red as the daylight faded, Dawn looked exhausted.

  ‘Are we planning to stop soon?’ she asked, the question truncated by a jaw-cracking yawn.

  ‘Lexington,’ he said shortly. ‘About another hour.’

  ‘Right.’ Another yawn, and Claudia swerved slightly as Dawn took her hand off the wheel to cover her mouth again.

  Cooper swore silently. She wasn’t going to make it to Lexington. She’d hardly slept the night before, because she’d given him the bed. And, as much as his aching arms didn’t want to drive any more today either, he would have to take over the wheel or risk them crashing.

  Maybe Lexington was too far to aim for tonight. But he knew they had to make it, all the same. He had to get to Justin, to help his brother escape making the same mistake he had.

  He glanced across at Dawn again, her eyes sleepy but her jaw set. He couldn’t help but think she’d be a better match for any man than Rachel had been, but what did he know? His swift divorce was proof that he was no judge of women.

  Maybe Dawn was just a better actress than his ex-wife.

  Up ahead, Cooper saw lights and a familiar sign, and smiled.

  ‘Pull over at the next turn-off,’ he said. ‘We’ll swap over.’

  Dawn frowned as she signalled. ‘Here?’

  ‘Yep,’ Cooper replied as the giant likeness of Buffalo Bill came into view. ‘Right here.’

  * * *

  It had been years since Cooper had been to Fort Cody, the replica frontier-redoubt that claimed to be Nebraska’s largest souvenir and Western gift store. He struggled even to remember how they’d come across it, or why they’d even been travelling through Nebraska in the first place—it certainly wasn’t the sort of place the Edwards family had frequented when he’d been growing up. But that was precisely why Cooper liked it so much.

  ‘Fort Cody Trading Post,’ Dawn read doubtfully. ‘Western gifts?’

  ‘It’s a souvenir place, mostly.’ Cooper unbuckled his seat belt. ‘With a bit of frontier history thrown in. Come on.’

  Dawn’s uncertain expression started to fade as she took in the log stockade walls and the wooden lookout towers with the stars and stripes flying from them.

  ‘So is this where the real Buffalo Bill came from?’ she asked, reading the information board under the giant, thirty-foot-tall Bill Cody sign.

  ‘Well, maybe not originally,’ Cooper allowed. ‘But he lived here for a while.’

  ‘I suppose that counts.’ Dawn flashed him a cheeky grin. ‘I suppose when a country only has a few centuries of history you have to take what you can get.’

  ‘Of course, even when a country is as vast and influential as the United States, it’s still quite an achievement to have so much history everywhere you travel within it,’ Cooper countered, and Dawn laughed.

  ‘I’ll let you have that one,’ she said, linking her hand through his arm casually. He stiffened at her touch, then forced himself to relax. ‘Come on, let’s go in. I have a lot of family to buy souvenirs for.’

  She didn’t let go until they were well inside, when she dashed off to study some Buffalo Bill keyrings, and suddenly Cooper felt a chill, despite the warmth of the evening.

  Unsettled, he watched Dawn flit from stand to stand within the main shop, collecting tacky memorabilia in her arms as though it was precious jewels, holding it close against her chest. She looked like a child in a sweet shop, and Cooper tried to remember the last time he’d seen such sheer enjoyment in anyone.

  He couldn’t. But, if he could, he knew for a fact it wouldn’t have been caused by a Buffalo Bill keyring.

  The people in his life—work colleagues, family, a few acquaintances that had hung around after his divorce—weren’t the sort of people to get excited by souvenirs and faux Western decoration. None of them. If he’d brought literally anyone else he knew to this place, they’d have rolled their eyes at the spectacle and told him they’d wait in the car.

  Which led him to the very uncomfortable conclusion that Dawn wasn’t like anyone else he knew.

  Maybe that wasn’t too bad in itself, but it was the thought it led to next that was causing him real problems.

  ‘I just need to go pay for these, then we’ll get some coffee, okay?’ Dawn said, bouncing up next to him, her arms full.

  Cooper just nodded and watched her bound away again towards the shop desk.

  If Dawn wasn’t like anyone he knew, she wasn’t like Rachel. And spending the last few days in her company had led him to only one disturbing conclusion. One he knew in his gut was absolutely true, even if it made no sense at all.

  Justin was wrong about her.

  So what the hell did he do now?

  CHAPTER NINE

  THEY RAN INTO a traffic jam not far outside Lexington, stuck in a long line of stationary cars just a few miles from the hotel Cooper had booked while they’d been at Fort Cody, while the sky grew darker and night time fell. Dawn was relieved that Cooper was driving, not sure that she’d have been able to stay alert enough to deal with the stop-start traffic and the idiots trying to pull unsafe manoeuvres to get them home sooner.

  But, as Cooper’s jaw cracked with a huge yawn, she realised that she wasn’t the only one who was tired, and it was her duty as a road-trip buddy to keep him awake and attentive.

  Which meant it was time for the time-honoured tradition of car games. Starting with Fortunately/Unfortunately.

  ‘Fortunately, we’re not too far from our hotel,’ she said with a perky smile.

  Cooper narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Unfortunately it could take us hours through all this traffic.’

  ‘Fortunately, we’re in the best car in the world!’

  ‘What are we doing here?’ Cooper asked, and Dawn clicked her tongue with disappointment.

  ‘That’s not the game!’

  ‘We’re playing a game?’

  Dawn shook her head. ‘Don’t you know anything? We’re on a road trip, we’re stuck in traffic. We have to play games.’

  ‘Do I at least get to know the rules, then?’ Cooper looked faintly amused at the prospect of car games, which Dawn decided was probably the best reaction she could expect from him.

  ‘It’s easy. I say something positive and optimistic—like, fortunately we’re not far from our hotel—a
nd you do what apparently comes totally naturally to you, since you didn’t even realise we were playing, and say something negative, like—’

  ‘Unfortunately it could take hours,’ Cooper finished for her.

  ‘Exactly!’ She grinned at him. ‘Ready now?’

  ‘Hang on. Why can’t I do the “fortunately” part?’ Cooper asked.

  Dawn blinked. ‘Uh, I guess you could. If you liked.’ And if he honestly thought he could come up with positive things to say for the next twenty minutes, or for however long they would be stuck in this traffic jam. ‘I suppose it could be more of a challenge that way round.’

  Because she was the positive one. The one always looking for a happy-ever-after. And he...well, wasn’t.

  ‘Fortunately, I like a challenge,’ Cooper said. And just like that, the game was on.

  ‘Unfortunately for you, I am a champion at this game.’

  ‘Fortunately for me, I’m a quick learner,’ Cooper countered.

  ‘Unfortunately, you’re an eternal pessimist.’ Okay, that was a little harsh, but Dawn was playing to win.

  ‘Fortunately, I’ve been taking lessons in optimism from you.’

  ‘Unfortunately, my optimism is at an all-time low—after being, you know, jilted on my wedding day—so I might not be such a great teacher.’

  Cooper gave her a soft smile. ‘Fortunately, I know it would take more than that to keep you down.’

  Dawn felt a strange warmth filling her at his words. Was he right? She hoped so. ‘Um... Unfortunately... Damn.’ She couldn’t think of anything.

  ‘Want to switch to I Spy?’ Cooper asked, and Dawn nodded. Much safer.

  * * *

  An hour or so later, Dawn sank down onto the hotel room bed, closed her eyes and smiled. Cooper had insisted on finding somewhere a little nicer to stay in Lexington, after the disaster at the motel the night before—adding that he’d cover it before she even had time to worry about the hit to her credit card—and she really hadn’t been able to say no. The fluffy bathrobe, power shower and ridiculously comfortable mattress almost made her forget that she’d spent most of the last two days in a car. And possibly a significant portion of her remaining money on Buffalo Bill keyrings for her family.

  ‘Are you sure you’ve got enough of those?’ Cooper had asked, nodding at her heavy bag as she’d carried it in from the car after an epic game of I Spy.

  She’d shrugged. ‘I have a lot of family who flew a long way for a wedding that didn’t happen. I figure the least I owe them is a keyring. I kind of wanted to get the moose’s head for Dad, but that would be a nightmare to ship, so...keyrings all round.’

  Cooper, she’d noticed, hadn’t bought anything at all, despite how excited he’d looked at stopping there. She wondered if it had been some sort of childhood favourite, one that Justin had shared, although Justin had never mentioned it.

  She’d half-thought that Cooper might have bought something for his brother, but he hadn’t. She hadn’t either, after some consideration. Showing up with gifts would smack a little too much of her coming after him to grovel, to beg him to come back. And the more distance she got from the wedding the more certain she was that she didn’t want to do that.

  And only a little bit of that reasoning was down to Cooper.

  Dawn couldn’t get a good read on him. One minute he was laughing and calling their car Claudia, stopping for ridiculously huge boxes of doughnuts for the journey, pulling over at stupidly fun roadside attractions or playing road-trip games. That Cooper she liked, could relax with and even enjoy his company.

  It was the other Cooper who was causing her problems. The one who glared at her when she cracked a joke, who shifted the conversation away from any question she asked about his past or his personal life. The one who looked at her so hard sometimes she felt as though he were trying to see right through her skin, right to the heart of her.

  She wondered what he saw there. She hadn’t quite found the courage to ask yet.

  A knock on the door pulled her from her reverie, and she groaned as she forced herself to her feet to answer it. Probably room service with the wrong room. Even nice hotels seemed to screw that up sometimes.

  ‘I didn’t order anything—Oh. Hi.’

  Cooper stood outside her door, dark eyes warm in the dim lights of the hotel corridor. ‘You left this in Claudia.’ He held out her phone charger; it must have fallen out of her bag, she realised. She really needed to buy a proper bag to keep her stuff in, rather than relying on a ratty carrier bag. ‘I figured you’d probably need it tonight.’

  ‘I hadn’t even noticed it was missing,’ Dawn said, reaching out to take it from him. ‘Thanks.’

  He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘No bother.’

  ‘What were you doing back at the car anyway?’ she asked.

  Cooper’s expression turned furtive. ‘Nothing. Just...checking something.’

  Had he been planning to leave? To abandon her here in the middle of nowhere, Nebraska? And, if so, what made him change his mind?

  Her suspicions must have shown on her face, because Cooper sighed. ‘Look, I wasn’t making a run for it, I promise. I just needed to clear my head, so I went for a walk and found myself at the car. Your charger was sitting on the front seat. I didn’t drive a yard.’

  ‘You were sitting in the car imagining you were some fifties movie star, weren’t you?’ Dawn joked, mostly to distract herself from the overwhelming relief flooding through her. He hadn’t been leaving her.

  ‘Something like that.’ Cooper gave her a small, lopsided smile. ‘I guess I find Claudia calming.’

  ‘You are the only person I know who, after spending basically a whole day sitting in a car, would voluntarily head back out there to sit in it some more even though you weren’t getting anywhere.’

  ‘Who said I wasn’t getting anywhere?’ Cooper asked.

  Dawn frowned. ‘You said you didn’t drive anywhere.’

  ‘No, but that’s not always the same thing.’ Leaning against the doorframe, Cooper looked at her—that deep-down, searching look she could never read properly—and Dawn tried not to flinch under his gaze. ‘I had some thinking to do, was all.’

  ‘About life, the universe and everything?’ Dawn asked flippantly.

  ‘About you.’ By contrast, Cooper’s tone was a hundred per cent serious.

  ‘Me?’ Dawn wasn’t sure she liked the thought of that. What was there to think about, anyway? She liked to think she was a pretty open book.

  ‘Yeah. You’re a puzzle, Dawn Featherington.’

  ‘I’m really not.’ Somehow, as they talked, she’d leaned in closer to him, so she was halfway through the doorway herself. She just hoped no other guests happened on them. Their conversation must look far more intimate than it really was. Yet Dawn couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away. ‘What are you trying to figure out? Just ask me and I’ll tell you.’

  She would, Dawn realised. She’d answer any question he had, just to get him to stop looking at her as if he was seeking out all her secrets.

  Or maybe to make sure he never stopped.

  She wasn’t entirely sure.

  And that, right there, was a problem.

  Dawn stepped back away from the doorframe, away from Cooper and his too-knowing eyes. He was her almost-brother-in-law, nothing else. The last thing she needed was to be sharing secrets and moments with this man.

  Cooper looked as if he understood, because his smile turned sad. ‘Ah, but where would be the fun in that?’ he asked, and it took her a full minute to remember what she’d offered.

  He pushed away from the doorframe and raised a hand in farewell. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, Dawn.’

  ‘Eight in the lobby?’ she guessed.

  Cooper was already halfway down the hallway towards his own room a few doors down but he threw his answer b
ack over his shoulder. ‘Let’s make it nine. We can get pancakes before we leave.’

  It wasn’t until she saw him disappear into his own room that Dawn shut the door, leaning against it and breathing deeply.

  They’d talked about practically nothing. He’d returned her phone charger. They’d made plans for the morning, just like the last couple of nights.

  So why did she feel suddenly as if everything had changed?

  * * *

  Cooper was already regretting the previous night’s indulgence with the minibar by the time Dawn met him in the lobby. He’d known, after their conversation in her doorway, that he should just get some sleep. If sitting in Claudia examining his every interaction with Dawn so far hadn’t given him a better understanding of whatever game she was playing—or the possibility that Justin had been mistaken—he definitely wasn’t going to find any answers at the bottom of a miniature bottle of alcohol. Or even several miniature bottles.

  But he’d tried anyway. And, by the time he’d dragged himself to bed and to sleep, he’d been drunk and clueless instead of just clueless. Perfect.

  ‘Pancakes?’ Dawn asked in greeting, her tone far too annoyingly cheerful for nine in the morning.

  ‘We should get going,’ he replied shortly, then cursed inwardly as her face fell. ‘But there’s probably time for pancakes,’ he conceded, cursing himself even more.

  What was it about this woman?

  The problem, he’d decided last night, a couple of bottles in, was that he was starting from a place of incomplete information. Gut instinct aside, all he really knew was: A: Justin loved Dawn, but also believed her to be a gold-digger, and B: Dawn was willing to drive all the way across the country with him to win Justin back. Even if she denied it, it was pretty obvious to him.

  Those two pieces of information alone should have been enough to compel him to keep his interactions with Dawn to a minimum, or at least keep his distance emotionally. He didn’t need to know her secrets, didn’t need to understand her motivations.

  But apparently knowing that wasn’t enough to make him stop trying.