The One Real Thing (Hart's Boardwalk)

by Samantha Young

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. Talk to Cooper.”

  I nodded.

  I would.

  If only to get this sudden feeling of dread out of my stomach.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Cooper

  “I’m telling you I like the menu just fine,” Cooper said, trying not to get exasperated with his cook.

  Crosby frowned at him. “So you’re sure you’re not telling people that you’re worried customers are bored with it? That it’s not fancy enough?”

  Patience. Give me fucking patience.

  “Crosby, this a fucking bar.” So much for patience. “I don’t want fancy-ass food on my menu and people don’t expect it.”

  “Well, I heard—”

  “I couldn’t give a shit what you heard.” Who the hell was riling his temperamental cook? “You add anything to the menu, you and Dean won’t be able to cope.”

  “I could cope on my own if he wasn’t in my way.”

  “Is it him?” Cooper sighed. He hated this crap. “Is he fucking with your head?” He’d hired Dean as an extra cook to help out during high season.

  “He thinks it isn’t fancy enough.” Crosby rubbed his forehead, looking at the menu. “I started to think maybe he was right.”

  “The menu stays as it is. And when Dean gets in today I’ll tell him the same thing, and if he doesn’t like it he can leave.”

  Crosby nodded, looking relieved. “Okay. Sorry, boss.”

  “Jesus,” Cooper muttered and strode out of the kitchen. His cook needed to get a social life. Making his job his life was turning him into an even bigger nut than he already was.

  “Hey.”

  The familiar soft voice shot through him and he looked over toward to the door to see Jess stepping inside the bar. He immediately crossed the room to her, his irritation dying on the spot. “Hey, yourself.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her to him for a kiss.

  “It’s good to see you.” He looked into her eyes as he pulled back and his happiness at seeing her dimmed. “What’s going on?”

  “I . . . uh . . .” She sighed, her fingers tensing against his shoulders. “I just had an encounter with Dana.”

  And this morning just keeps getting better. “What now?”

  “Oh, she had something very interesting to say.” Jessica pulled away, only to take a chair off a table and hop up onto the space it had made. He tried not to be distracted by the reminder of the first time they’d had sex together.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, willing the memory out for now. “Hit me with it.”

  Jessica gave him an inscrutable look. “She said that you want kids more than anything and that when you found out she couldn’t have them, you resented her for it, that you were cold and distant and she got hurt, that she wouldn’t talk about adoption and then took her hurt out on you by cheating on you . . .”

  His gut tightened.

  His blood heated.

  For a second he couldn’t even speak, he was that mad.

  “Cooper?”

  He held up a hand, needing a minute.

  Finally, when he felt like he wasn’t going to throw a table through the window, he choked out, “She would tell it like that.”

  Jessica hopped off the table and came to him, sliding her hands up his arms and around to clasp the back of his neck. She stared up into his eyes, showing him all the things she felt for him but had never said. “I’m sorry she’s such a bitch, Coop.”

  And just like that he found himself laughing.

  Calling Dana a bitch at this point was such a goddamn understatement.

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Don’t you think if I wanted kids more than I wanted to have them with someone who meant something to me that I’d have started on that as soon as my divorce finalized?”

  She gave a soft smile. “Yes.”

  “So do you want to hear the real story?”

  “If you’re willing to tell it.”

  “It’s just another example of what an idiot I was to marry her.” He nudged her back over to the table and lifted her onto it. He wrapped her legs around his hips, keeping them connected. “I want kids. Back when I thought I knew her, I wanted them with Dana. We talked about it; she said she wanted kids, too. Outright said it. So as far as I knew we were trying. A few months went by and nothing happened, and I discovered why when I found the damn pill in her purse.”

  Jess gasped. “She was still taking the pill?”

  “Yep.” He no longer felt the betrayal and confusion he’d felt back then. But he remembered the ugly feelings. There was nothing worse than the realization that you didn’t know the person who lay in your bed as well as you thought you did. “I confronted her and she cried a lot, promised me that she just got scared and that she really did want to have children. She said that. She said it straight to my face: ‘I want kids with you, Cooper.’ So I forgave her and we tried again.

  “Nothing happened again and we argued because I thought she was still on the pill. She denied it and said we needed to go to the doctors to see what was wrong. Turned out this time she wasn’t lying. She’d had something called an ectopic pregnancy just after high school that I didn’t know about.”

  “Jesus,” Jessica muttered.

  “I learned that was partly why she’d been afraid to get pregnant to begin with. But she could have told me that.”

  “She could have,” Jess agreed.

  “I think she was ashamed.” He shook his head, not understanding that shit. “The problem pregnancy damaged one of her tubes. Significantly. We couldn’t afford IVF so adoption was our only option. Dana didn’t want to adopt. In fact, she was relieved about the whole thing. Turned out she didn’t want kids after all. We argued a lot. All the time, in fact. And then she cheated.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jess whispered, her fingers tangling his hair the way he liked. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Done now, Doc.”

  “Yeah.” She frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s just . . . Dana seemed . . . She really seemed to regret how she acted. She said that she acted out of hurt.”

  “That might be true. I tried to understand where her head was at about the whole kids thing because she’d been through a lot, but she wouldn’t talk about it. She just got defensive and argumentative. Who knows with Dana what the truth is anymore? She has gotten pretty good at constructing fairy tales.”

  “So.” Jessica dropped her gaze. “That does mean kids are important to you.”

  He felt something an awful lot like fear at her refusal to meet his eyes. He and Jessica were already in a fragile place. With her refusing to share whatever was haunting her, and him getting increasingly frustrated by it, he’d been using sex as a way to keep them close. It felt a little like the past repeating itself, but he was hoping this time if he fought hard enough he’d wear Jess down. But if she didn’t want kids, that was a whole issue he might not be able to fight. “Like I said, I want them with someone who means something to me. But I do want them. They’re a deal breaker,” he said, giving her his honesty and dreading her answer when he followed it with, “You want kids, right?”

  After a few seconds she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. He saw the truth in them when she said, “I really do,” but for the life of him he couldn’t understand the darkness that mingled with her honesty.

  “And you can have kids, Doc?”

  “As far as I know. But if I couldn’t, I would do whatever it takes. Adoption, IVF, surrogacy . . .”

  Relief moved through him. “Good.” He lifted her chin because she’d dropped her gaze again and he kissed her.

  He kissed her hard.

  Then harder, longer, deeper.

  He did it to shove out the voice niggling at his conscience to question h
er more.

  Because he was gone for her.

  And he needed to believe that everything was going to work out for them.

  Jessica

  Standing on the balcony of the ocean-view room that had been mine for my first three weeks in Hartwell, I searched for that peace that had come over me when I stood there the first time.

  But it wouldn’t come to me.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket and even as I dreaded looking at the caller ID I did it anyway.

  Cooper calling.

  I hit the red button and shoved my phone back in my pocket.

  For the past few days I’d been avoiding him because I felt like just as big a liar as Dana. I hadn’t lied when I told Cooper I wanted children. I did want kids. I did.

  But how could I even start talking about a future with our kids in it when Cooper didn’t even know the whole truth about me? There was no way I could tie him to me forever like that without him knowing everything.

  I guess I just hadn’t really thought about that until the subject of kids came up.

  My phone vibrated again and when I pulled it out I had another text from Cooper.

  What the hell is going on?

  I blanched, squeezing my eyes closed. If I didn’t answer him soon he was just going to show up.

  Busy, I texted. I’ll call you later. x.

  “Jess. Earth to Jess.”

  I spun around, surprised to find Bailey standing by the bed with her hands on her hips. “Hey.”

  “Hey. I’ve been calling your name from the doorway for the past thirty seconds.”

  “Oh.” I was so out of it. “Sorry.”

  Bailey frowned. “What are you doing in here?”

  I shrugged. “I just like it in here.”

  “Well, the new guests will be checking in soon, so we better skedaddle.”

  I nodded and followed her out.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” she said as we walked downstairs.

  “I’m a little preoccupied,” I admitted.

  “You don’t say.”

  “Do you and Tom ever talk about having kids?” I blurted out.

  Bailey almost stumbled on the last step. She shot me a look of surprise over her shoulder before marching toward reception. “What makes you ask?” She spun around, eyes wide. “Are you pregnant?”

  “God, no,” I assured her. “I just heard about Dana and Cooper’s situation before the divorce. So we had a talk. About kids.”

  “You want them, right? Cooper wants kids.”

  “I’m well aware.” My voice sounded really high-pitched.

  Bailey cocked an eyebrow. “You okay?”

  “I want kids, too. It’s just . . . I’ve never had to discuss the idea with someone. It’s a little . . . intense.”

  “Yup.” She made a face and then looked at the computer screen. A little too intently.

  “So you and Tom?”

  “Hmm?”

  I was the mistress of avoidance and I knew another mistress when I saw one. I leaned on the desk, ducking my head so she had no choice but to look at me.

  “What?” She sighed dramatically and rolled her eyes. “Okay. Fine. Every time I bring up the subject he gets cagey. He’s cagey about marriage and children in general. For Christ’s sake, he still has his own apartment.”

  “How long have you been together?”

  “Coming up ten years. But that’s his point.” Now it was her voice that was getting all high-pitched. “He says that we don’t need a piece of paper to tell us that we’re together. While I say that if we’re going to have children then we need to protect them and each other legally by getting married so that if anything happens to either one of us, the other and the kids will be okay financially.”

  “Good point.”

  “I know!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “But then he gets all mumbly and immature because the subject of children has been mentioned. He tells me that he does want kids but not right away. And he’s been saying it for eight years! Come on, Jess, I’m thirty-three years old. I hit thirty and started panicking about it being too late to have kids. Can you imagine how I feel now?”

  I flinched at her yell. It appeared I had unwittingly awoken a dragon. “I can.” I’d also had similar periods of panic since turning thirty. I hadn’t wanted a relationship until Cooper so my future plan had been to be artificially inseminated or to adopt, but the timing had just never felt right. But both Bailey and I were only two years away from mature pregnancy age. I knew all the possible risks and complications that might come with pregnancy in the mid to late thirties.

  So yes, I could imagine how Bailey was feeling and more.

  The bell jingled above the front door just as Bailey opened her mouth to fire a second launch of pent-up frustration. Her eyebrows immediately slammed together and she snapped, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  At this, I half expected to turn and find Vaughn standing in the hallway but was surprised to find an older, very distinguished-looking gentleman. He was tall, fit, and had strong facial features. He was dressed immaculately in a three-piece suit.

  Cold, dark eyes narrowed on Bailey. “Do you speak to all your guests like that?”

  “No, but then, my guests are not Ian Devlin.” She huffed and rounded the desk to stride over to him. “That was my roundabout way of saying get out.”

  He gave her a blank, cold look. “I’m not here for you. I’ve come to speak to Dr. Huntington.”

  I’d been so busy studying the villain I had heard all about, but had yet to meet, that I was shocked out of a daze at him saying my name.

  “What do you need from Jess?” Bailey got all mother hen on me.

  “That’s a matter for Dr. Huntington and me only.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Bailey, it’s fine,” I interrupted, striding over to him. “Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

  Something smug entered his expression. “Believe me, Dr. Huntington, you’ll want to discuss this in private.” He gestured to the front door. “Take a walk with me.”

  “Don’t, Jess.”

  But I was curious and more than a little worried that I’d caught the attention of this man. And I didn’t like the look in his eyes.

  “It’s fine. I’ll be right back.” I squeezed her shoulder, ignoring the concerned look on her face.

  Following Ian Devlin outside and onto the boardwalk, I didn’t like the feeling I got off this guy. He might look distinguished and well coiffed, but there was a slickness about him, and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Maybe it was just because my friends had filled my head with stories about him, but this guy immediately rubbed me the wrong way. I just wanted out of his presence. “Well?”

  He moved over to the railing to look out over the beach. “Do you like it here, Dr. Huntington?”

  “If I didn’t, staying was asinine.”

  He flicked me an unimpressed look. “May we continue without the immature smart-ass comments?”

  I huffed, “Only if we may continue without all the cloak-and-dagger crap. Get to the point, Mr. Devlin. What do you want?”

  In answer he pulled out a piece of paper from inside his waistcoat. He handed it to me.

  Bemused, I took it; and when I unfolded it, it felt as if the boards beneath my feet had suddenly given way.

  Blood rushed in my ears and I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

  “I have your attention. Good.”

  I looked up from the paper, feeling it tremble in my shaking hands. “How? How did you get this? This was sealed by the courts.”

  He shrugged nonchalantly. “Money goes a long way in this world.”

  No. No. NO!

  The worst thing about myself, the one thing I didn’t want anyone to know, the thing I couldn’t
even tell the best man I’d ever met, and this son of a bitch knew it.

  I started to tremble, visibly, and I hated that this asshole could see what he’d done to me.

  “Have you told anyone?” My voice shook, too.

  “Why would I do something that’s not in my own best interests?”

  Ugly understanding dawned. “What do you want?”

  The muscle in his jaw ticked for a moment, his eyes hardening. “I’m sure you’ve heard I lost out on the Beckwith property.”

  I nodded stiffly, my thoughts all over the place, as I imagined him telling Cooper, telling Bailey, telling everyone and ruining my new life here.

  “As you can imagine, I’m getting a little frustrated. But then I came across this little nugget”—he tapped the record in my hand—“and thought, How can this benefit me?”

  “And how can it?”

  He turned to face me fully. “I want Cooper’s pub and he won’t sell. And it looked like he never would . . . but everyone is all atwitter over how cuckoo he is for Dr. Jessica Huntington.” He gave me a shark’s smile. “The wonderful thing about small-town life, Doctor: everyone knows everyone’s business. And what everyone knows is that Cooper Lawson is in love. And he’d do anything for the people he loves.”

  Disbelief struck me dumb.

  Was he actually suggesting what I thought he was suggesting?

  Was this blackmail?

  “You’re going to convince him to sell that bar to me.”

  My breath finally gusted out of me. “Are you nuts? This isn’t an episode of Dynasty, Mr. Devlin. This won’t work. Cooper would never give up his bar. Not even for me.”

  “A man like Cooper will do it if you need him to. Tell him you’re in serious financial trouble. You do have student debt and I doubt working for Miss Hartwell is putting much of a dent in that debt. Or tell him you have an ill family member who needs the medical bills paid. Say whatever you need to. Stick to those kinds of things, though. Cooper likes to be a hero. He can’t help himself. Press that hero button and he’ll sell his bar. I’ll swoop in and make him a very generous offer. That’s a promise.”