Elijah (The Cooper Brothers Book 1)

by Nikki Ashton

  “Well?” Finlay asked.

  I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” I replied. “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

  My stomach roiled as I listened to the soft snoring beside me, wondering why on earth I’d allowed myself to fall into bed with Finlay.

  Of course I knew why, the phone call I’d had with Claudia earlier in the day. She’d told me she’d been back to the house to collect the final cheque from Tino and Sophie and had mentioned to them how good the gardens were looking, now that they were almost finished. She’d asked if the guys were around to say hello. Tino had told her they were, except for Elijah, who was having a day off to go shopping with his girlfriend for new bedding for when she moved in with him.

  Claudia wasn’t going to tell me, but when I said I’d decided I was going to pull out of my dinner with Finlay, she didn’t want me to be pointlessly pining for Elijah. Feeling sick with jealousy, I ended the call and listened to the voice inside my head which said it’d be a good idea to go out with Finlay and seduce him. I put on a tight dress, some high heels, and left my room with one aim in mind, to end the day with sex.

  That voice had obviously pissed off somewhere, because it had been replaced with one that was giving me a lecture on what a stupid idea it had been and that I should escape as soon as I could.

  Lying as still as possible, only moving my head, I looked around the room to find my clothes. Thankfully, they all appeared to be piled next to the side of the bed in which I was sleeping, so as quietly and a slowly as possible, I slithered out of the bed. Stooping to pick up my dress, underwear, and shoes, I risked a glance at Finlay, thankful to see that he was still sleeping, face down, one arm above his head and one hanging down the side of bed, his fingertips moving up and down on the carpet as he took each sleep filled breath. He seemed to be in a heavy sleep, so I was confident I’d be able to leave his room without waking him. The other issue was that all the family bedrooms, plus their lounge and kitchen were on the same floor, so I had to get past Iain and Marcia’s room to get to my own, without waking them. I was hopeful that as it was still early, only five-thirty, they’d also be sound asleep.

  Sleeping with Finlay had been totally the wrong thing to do; both personally and professionally. I let my self-pity and jealousy take over my sanity, my common sense, and now I felt terrible. I felt dirty and easy and was mortified at what Mr & Mrs Murray might think of me. As for Finlay, I couldn’t even think about him and what this would mean for our professional relationship. I also had a suspicion that our night together would mean something to him. He’d showered me with attention both at dinner and in bed and while the sex had been good, I was ashamed to say my mind had wandered to Elijah throughout most of it. I was a horrible person and Finlay didn’t deserve to be treated as a substitute for my ex-husband who was living with his girlfriend.

  With one last look at the sleeping body in the bed, I gently opened the door and slid through it, clicking it shut behind me. Once on the landing, I held my breath, waiting to hear Finlay or his parents, but the top floor of the hotel was quiet, bar the ticking of the Grandfather clock that stood in the lounge. Feeling relief, I slowly tiptoed back to my room, closed the door and slid down to the floor, muffling my sobs with the fabric of my creased dress.

  Elijah

  aged 22

  As I looked at my beautiful wife in her gorgeous cream, lace dress, which hugged every one of her sexy curves, I knew I would never be happier than I was at that moment. Amy was everything to me, the love of my life, and as corny and as clichéd as it might have sounded, I fell in love with her more each day.

  She was currently bouncing around to House of Pain’s, Jump Around, with Lucas and Alex. Her shoes in one hand, while the other was fisted and pumping the air, and she looked like a fucking goddess. Her hair was escaping its elaborately curled bun and there was a thin sheen of sweat over her cleavage, and on her face was a huge grin as she sang out all the lyrics with my two best mates. I was one lucky fucker.

  “She’s enjoying herself.” Sam’s mouth was close to my ear and there was a distinct slurring of his words. “She looks fucking amazing too, bro. She-.”

  I punched him playfully in the arm. “Remember she’s my wife before you finish that sentence.”

  “I was just going to say she’s good for you. You’re good together.”

  Turning to look at him, I loosened my tie a little more. “You’re pissed.”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying. You know I love Amy.”

  “I know,” I replied with a grin, turning back to face the dancefloor. “I’m a lucky man.”

  “Just make sure you don’t fuck it up,” Sam said, swaying slightly as he pointed his bottle toward Amy.

  “No chance.” My response was immediate. “I fucking worship her and will every day for the rest of my life.”

  “Do you ever argue?” Sam asked, turning to me with a raised brow.

  I huffed out a laugh. “Fuck yeah. We just never let it drag on. Did you not hear her giving me shit for leaving a mess in the kitchen last week? I thought she was going to blow a blood vessel.”

  We both grinned and then looked out over the dancefloor as Amy hooked her arm through Rachel’s, both hitching up their long dresses to dance to Cotton Eye Joe. That DJ was going to get a talking to, playing shit like that, but when I looked at how happy my wife was, why should I care?

  “How did you know she was the one?”

  Sam sounded dejected, causing me to shoot my head around to look at him.

  “What’s up?”

  Taking a swig from his bottle, he shrugged. “Nothing, why would there be?”

  “You sound a bit pissed off. You thinking it’s time you settled down.” I grinned at him, waiting for his usual cursing at the idea.

  “Maybe…I don’t know…maybe it’s time. Ah fuck it, I have no idea. It’s probably the wedding and all this fucking mushy shit getting to me today.”

  “You got a particular girl in mind?” I asked, nudging him.

  “Fuck no.” His response was vehement, a little too quick, and followed by a long swig of beer.

  I watched my brother carefully, and noticed a twitch in his eye and knew for sure he was either lying to me, or more likely, to himself. It was my wedding day though, and I didn’t want to stand around talking about his love life when I could be dancing with Amy.

  Handing Sam my bottle, I strode onto the dancefloor, just in time for the music to change to Thousand Years. As I approached, Rachel grinned and twirled Amy in my direction and into my open arms, taking Amy’s shoes from her as she left us.

  “Hey you,” she gasped, a little out of breath. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Just having a drink with Sam,” I replied, pulling her closer. “And watching you.”

  “You were, were you?” she asked, linking her arms around my neck and falling into my rhythm.

  “Yeah and realising how fucking lucky I am. You look beautiful and I’m amazed that you’re mine.”

  Amy dropped a kiss on my lips and then leaned back to look at me. “You shouldn’t be amazed, it was written in the stars.”

  She giggled softly and laid her cheek against my chest.

  “I hope we’re always this happy,” she sighed.

  “Of course we will be.” My hand went to her arse and gave it a quick squeeze. “Sorry, but it looks amazing in this dress.”

  Amy looked up at me and rolled her eyes.

  “But it does.”

  “Well thank you, I appreciate your appreciation of my bum.”

  “I appreciate it so much, I’m going to fucking worship it later on when I get you out of this dress. I do hope you’re wearing a pair of those tiny little knickers which I love so much.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows at her, smirking as I noticed her take a deep breath as a blush crept up her neck – always a tell-tale sign that she was turned on.

  “They may be,” she said standing on her tiptoe to
kiss the corner of my mouth. “And they may have antique lace around the edge.”

  “Really,” I replied, taking her bottom lip into my mouth and sucking on it.

  When she pushed her hips forward, I knew I needed to stop, otherwise we’d have to ditch our own wedding reception.

  “Oh yeah,” she said breathily. “You’re going to love them and the matching basque.”

  I groaned and moved my hand from Amy’s arse to my dick, readjusting it. “If the next song that DJ plays is a fast one, we still need to slow dance, because my grandma will have a stroke if she sees the stonker I’m currently sporting.”

  Amy let her head drop back and let out a loud belly laugh, her shoulders shaking as she tightened her arms around my neck.

  “Oh my god, you’re terrible.”

  “Yeah,” I whispered close to her ear, “but you love me.”

  Running a hand down my cheek, she studied me, her eyes bright and her lips pulled into a beautiful smile.

  “I do, and I promise I always will.”

  Amy

  aged 28

  There was a pain in my stomach that wouldn’t go away and every minute that I spent around Finlay, it was getting worse.

  The morning after our night together, I’d hidden in my room for as long as possible, until finally he’d come knocking on my door, bringing with him a breakfast tray. He decided to sit with me while I ate, watching me carefully; my regret plainly obvious. After almost ten painful minutes of silence while I ate, he finally decided to leave.

  “Don’t let whatever is holding you back spoil what we could have, Amy,” he said, as he pushed up from the end of my huge bed. “I think we could have a good time together.”

  As I tried to swallow down a bite of toast, which suddenly felt like sand paper, Finlay left my room telling me not to rush as he’d spoken to the floor layers and got them started in the dining room.

  The rest of the day had been filled with awkward silences or stilted conversations and I had never felt so grateful for dinner to be finished and to be able to scurry back to my room. Thankfully, Iain and Marcia didn’t appear to notice anything wrong – thank god, Finlay’s lost little boy look was enough guilt for one day.

  I’d thought the days following would get easier seeing as Finlay knew I wasn’t interested in having a relationship with him, or repeating our night together, but it really wasn’t. Each day he tried a little harder than the one before to get me to change my mind. He wasn’t forceful or demanding, but charming and funny. His tactic was evidently to try and disarm me with jokes and smiles. Earlier, he’d even asked me out to dinner again ‘as friends’, but I’d said no, making an excuse about needing to sketch some ideas for my next job. Maybe, if I hadn’t been bloody obsessed with my ex-husband, I might have given Finlay a chance, but another time, another place.

  With thoughts of Elijah, I picked my phone up from the bar, where I’d been sitting to work on some invoices. Knowing it was going to torture me, I flicked at the screen until the Facebook app was showing. With a deep breath, I pressed my thumb on it and before I could talk myself out of it, typed in Elijah’s name.

  There were a few Elijah Coopers, but my Elijah was right there, his handsome face smiling out, third on the list. Taking care not to add him as a friend, I pressed on his name to load his page. As I thought, it wasn’t locked down, something I was always warning him about, and I was able to see everything on his page. I scrolled through his posts, smiling at some of the jokes and silly videos that he’d added and holding my breath whenever I came across a photograph. He looked handsome and perfect on every single one - his arms around Alex and Lucas standing on a beach, him and Sam with their mum and dad, him and Sam dressed as Shrek and Princess Fiona at a fancy dress party, him and-. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked down at a picture of him and his girlfriend. They were both smiling as he stood behind her, his arm across her chest and a bottle of beer in the other hand, while Mia held a glass of wine up to whoever was taking the photograph. The caption on it was ‘Sam’s 30th’. Acidic jealousy thrummed around my body, as I studied their faces. I should have been the one in that picture. I was the one who’d told Sam constantly that when he hit thirty he should have a party, for him to reply every time ‘It’s fucking years away, stop aging me before my time’. I should have been the one with Elijah’s arm around me – not her, but whose fault was that?

  It had been posted just over two months ago, on the actual date of Sam’s birthday, a few days before we’d both started working on Tino and Sophie’s house and they looked…happy. I felt my throat prickle and coughed to push back the emotion. I couldn’t keep crying about something that was never going to change. Elijah was happy with Mia, and I’d already tried to show him how I felt at Ziggy’s, but he’d told me no – and I understood. I wasn’t sure whether I actually could if it came down to it, because would I ever trust him again?

  I scrolled down through a few more photographs, finally stopping on one of Mia on her own, looking up at the Eiffel Tower. There was no caption, just a few likes, including one from Elijah even though it was posted on his page. I didn’t know whether he’d taken it, but I guessed he had because it was firmly focused on his girlfriend’s pretty face.

  I’d been staring at it for several minutes, when Finlay appeared behind the bar, standing in front of me.

  “Something interesting?” he asked, placing his palms on the newly varnished wood.

  I looked up from my phone and shook my head. “No, just someone I used to know.”

  “You’ve lost touch?”

  “Yes,” I sighed. “A while ago.”

  He nodded as his grey eyes studied me. “You could always friend request them.”

  I looked down at the picture of Mia again before exiting out of Elijah’s page.

  “No,” I finally said, laying my phone face down on the bar. “The past is the past and it should stay there.”

  Sensing my sadness, Finlay smiled and placed a hand on my shoulder giving it a friendly squeeze. I hadn’t realised it was what I needed, but that along with his warm smile was welcomed, and eased the pain I was feeling.

  He’d been right, I shouldn’t let Elijah hold me back. As much as it hurt, it really was time to move forward.

  “I was thinking,” I said, exhaling to rid myself of all the unhappiness and grief. “Is that dinner invitation still open?”

  Elijah

  aged 28

  The guys and I had finished our job with Johnny Kavanagh and been back for a week, although I wasn’t sure Bob would ever be the same. He’d fallen completely in love with Johnny’s beautiful wife, Shannon, despite her being heavily pregnant. The stupid idiot had gone completely dumbstruck from the minute he set eyes on her, and it had got progressively worse in the two weeks we’d worked there. On the final night, they’d invited us all to dinner at the house with them and their boys and poor old Bob was so hetup, he couldn’t eat his meal but just stared at her all night. Only yesterday, I’d caught him staring down at a picture of her in a women’s magazine and I could have sworn he was crying.

  I had to admit, I wasn’t exactly feeling the joy about being back home either. We’d started working on the gardens for an ageing popstar and his airhead wife and he was quickly becoming the biggest prick I’d ever had the misfortune to meet. He was demanding, changed his mind constantly, and was a tight as a duck’s arse when it came to materials. I was constantly battling with him about buying cheap paving slabs or cut-price plants and was close to quitting.

  I was also struggling with the fact that now I was back, Mia was desperately trying to pin me down to a date for her to move in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to, I just wasn’t sure I wanted it yet, but I didn’t have the heart or the balls to tell her it’d all been a mistake when she’d heard me talking to Sam about it. I was being a fucking coward about it because I knew she’d ask me why, and I wasn’t sure telling her that I couldn’t get my ex-wife out of my head would be a positive s
tep for our relationship.

  To be honest, it was taking every effort not to get into my truck and go and see Amy on her current job, which I heard was at another hotel, just outside of Manchester. I’d swallowed up that information from Marty, who’d bumped into Claudia when he and his wife were out having dinner one night. Don’t know why, but he had a shit eating grin when he’d told me the next day.

  As I contemplated the whole Mia situation, I could hear her moving around in my kitchen. She’d offered to make lunch while I worked on some invoices in my home office. The fact that I’d done sweet FA in the hour I’d been in there, pretty much proved my mind was most definitely elsewhere. My head was pounding and my lungs were feeling tight, as though the air was slowly disappearing from the room. I needed to get out and get some fresh air.

  I pushed against the desk with such ferocity that my chair slammed into the wall behind me. Not bothering to check whether I’d cracked the plaster of the pale grey wall, I moved out of the office to the landing.

  “Mia,” I called, standing on the top stair. “Mia.”