by Tessa Layne
Axel’s eyes were obscured by aviators that suited his older, leaner self. And while her heart leapt from its cage, she didn’t miss the way his mouth opened then flattened, or the way his temple throbbed when he clamped his jaw.
Damn.
Her body quivered in recognition. Until he mouthed the words Holy Shit.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Axel spat, anger punctuating every word.
Haley swallowed and smiled brightly. In a million years, she’d never imagined a reunion with Axel going like this. Her heart pounded deafeningly, blotting out the songbirds in the nearby trees.
All the words and platitudes she’d practiced on the drive up from Norman fell away. Because the truth was, even after ten years, Axel Hansen still managed to take her breath away. And what was she supposed to do with that?
CHAPTER 3
She offered him a smile. “I-I’m here with CPARC, the Climate Predic–”
“I know what it means.” Axel crossed his arms and waited to see what Coop would do next. He had no idea what she was talking about, but at the moment he didn’t care. He sure as hell wasn’t going to make this easy. Not after the way she’d left without a word.
In spite of himself, he drank her in. Time had treated her well. Her black glossy hair no longer fell from a ponytail on top of her head, but was short and curved around her chin. Her lithe body had blossomed into luscious curves that even a company polo and baggy khaki shorts couldn’t hide.
For a moment time fell away, and Coop was his girl again. The young woman whose body molded perfectly against his. With the dark chocolate eyes that when you got up close, held tiny flecks of gold. And the full, wide mouth he could kiss for days.
The thrill-crazy girl who’d ride standing up in the back of a pick-up truck going break-neck, singing and laughing at the top of her lungs. And the woman he’d loved who left him high and dry.
That woman.
Cold reality hit him in the gut, putting a stop to the stirring low in his belly. Coop had quit them. She hadn’t even left a note. He’d been frantic for weeks, terrified that something had happened to her, that she was in some kind of trouble. He’d even driven to Norman, searching, just to make sure.
And then he’d seen her walk out of her neighborhood coffee shop looking like she didn’t have a care in the world. He’d been stunned, then overwhelmed with relief. By the time it occurred to him to confront her, she’d disappeared around the corner, and he was left with a broken heart and a parking ticket.
Everything he’d practiced saying to her in his mind over the last ten years flooded his brain, short circuiting his temper.
“Nice to know you didn’t die,” he bit out.
Not exactly the opener he’d imagined, but a good enough place to start. Honestly, he was too pissed to give a shit what she thought.
Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, then shut it, dropping her head. Two pink spots bloomed on her cheeks. She’d look downright delectable if he wasn’t so angry. She might have charmed him once upon a time, but he was never falling for that again.
No. Way.
She raised her chin, eyes meeting his, and took a breath to speak. But before she’d uttered a word, his father ambled up, eyeing them suspiciously from underneath his beat-up straw cowboy hat. “Forte said he was sending a two men. What’s she doing here?” He gestured at Coop.
Great. Leave it to his dad to be an asshole from the get-go. Coop’s face went wooden. Axel recognized that face immediately. Whenever Coop had gotten steaming mad, her eyes would flash, but her face would remain perfectly neutral and impassive. He’d never figured out how she’d learned to do that.
But regardless of his feelings about Coop being back, if word got back to Forte that Dad had disrespected anyone on his team, that would be just as bad as dissing the people at K-State.
“Dad. I don’t know if you remember her, but this is Haley Cooper.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes, and looked her over. “Hmph. Thought you looked familiar. You bailed out on Axe here near about ten years ago, if I recall. What in the hell are you doing hooked up with Zack’s group?”
A muscle ticked above her cheek, but that was Coop’s only tell that her temper was being judiciously held in check. She gave him a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve been working with CPARC for the last year studying mesoscale disturbances in the upper atmosphere preceding and during tornado outbreaks.” She lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. “I’m sure if you’ve talked to Mr. Forte, you know that we’re working to make our research open source so we can collaborate with organizations like NASA and NCAR, and others who are struggling under the weight of significant funding cuts.”
“Well Zack didn’t warn me he was sending you,” Eddie grumbled.
Coop seemed to grow taller as she stared down Eddie. “Would it have made a difference?” Her soft drawl became clipped. “If there’s a problem, Mr. Forte can make other arrangements. I’m sure there’s another ranch nearby that would be happy for the compensation and the accolades from working with a prestigious individual like Mr. Forte.”
Axel bit the inside of this cheek to keep from smiling. He had to hand it to her. She’d never been afraid of his old man and played him like a violin. Every time. Eddie’d never been friendly to Coop, and Axel was sure it was because Coop never let anyone push her around. Eddie could be downright charming with the ladies when he wanted, but never with Coop. And it had come between them on more than one occasion when they’d dated.
Eddie frowned and coughed. “Fine, fine. Bunkhouse is ready. Don’t expect much, and make sure you stay out of the way. I don’t want you scarin’ the horses.”
Coop smiled placidly, but her eyes still gave away her aggravation. “I don’t need anything but a good internet connection.”
“Whaddoyou think this is, the Marriott? I don’t got that in the bunkhouse,” Eddie hedged, his frown turning into a glare.
Haley’s brows creased, and her hand tightened on the folder she held.
“She can take our bunkhouse, Dad. We’re wired.” The words left his mouth before Axel could grab them back in.
Awesome. Just. Awesome.
It made absolutely no sense, but he didn’t want Coop to go somewhere else. Gunnar would have a shit fit when Axel told him they were moving across the way. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Gunn stay in the bunkhouse with her alone. Hell, no. Gunn could move out too.
Eddie leveled a glare at him. “So long as your work gets done. You don’t need no distractions.”
Axel’s neck prickled with heat. He wasn’t fucking sixteen. He worked plenty hard around here, and to have his dad make a comment like that – especially in front of Coop – grated.
“Work’s always gotten done, Pops,” he said evenly, clenching his jaw to avoid saying anything he’d regret later.
Eddie waved a hand in Coop’s direction. “See she gets settled then.” He adjusted his hat and ambled off to the farmhouse.
Haley shot Axel a grateful smile once his dad was out of earshot, although her eyes were still wary. “That was very sweet of you, but there’s no need. I can get a hotel in town.”
Her offer set off a cascade of bitterness that came out in a harsh laugh. “You’ve been in the big city too long, darlin’. We don’t have hotels in West Podunk.”
She flinched. “Axe–”
He raised a hand. “Save it. And I wasn’t bein’ sweet either. Just doing my job.” He could manage to keep his shit together if she maintained her distance, but he was not getting into a conversation with her. Not when his emotions were as jumpy as a penned-in mustang.
He pointed in the direction of a pair of bunkhouses that peeked through the trees beyond the stables. “Far left is yours. Give me an hour to tell Gunn and get my things moved next door. My bedroom is on the left. And in case you didn’t remember, Warren’s house is on the other side of the arena toward the river.”
“Axel, please?” Coop’s husky sw
eet plea slid under his skin, burning him. She’d never been the type to ask for much. Or share much, for that matter.
They might have been college sweethearts, and they certainly burned up the sheets, but how close had they been, really? Over the years, late at night, when he was alone with only thoughts of her and regret for company, he’d realized they’d never had a true heart to heart. She’d never let him get too close.
And he’d been happy to go along. He’d never pressed her about her childhood or asked about her dreams. Never volunteered what it was like living in Gunnar’s shadow or shared his own deepest desires. He’d been more concerned with having fun and getting her alone. Sure, they’d talked about the future, and in his mind, she was always in it. He’d foolishly assumed she had the same picture.
And now she was here, resurrecting all this crap that he’d purged from his system… supposedly. It was all too much. She was too much.
Axel shook himself, bristling. “I don’t wanna hear your excuses right now, Coop,” he bit out. “I may not be able to do anything about the fact that you’re here for the next two months–”
“Know where I can hire a driver?”
Something in her tone of voice caught Axel’s attention. His head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes, studying her. A breeze ruffled the edge of her glossy black hair, flicking it against her cheek. But it was the light of challenge in her eye that sucked him back into another memory.
She’d been up for a week after finals and she’d talked him into driving out after a storm. She’d egged him to drive faster and faster, her voice intense with excitement. They’d had to pull over when the hail hit, and the car had rocked in the wind. Then they’d spotted a funnel cloud crossing the road about a mile in front of them.
Every now and then, when the sirens blew, Axel felt the same rush of adrenaline he’d had in that moment, clutching the steering wheel half in awe, half in terror. And what had Coop done? She’d hopped out and run down the road, toward the twister. He’d had to drag her back to the truck.
Yes.
The word formed in his mouth, but stayed stuck there. He had a ranch to run. Responsibilities.
Yes.
He shook his head firmly. “Not interested.” Spinning on his heel, he left her standing by her screwball looking vehicle. There was no way he was going to let himself get pulled into her crazy orbit again.
CHAPTER 4
Rascal Flatts blared from the jukebox in the corner of the Trading Post as Axel and Gunnar stepped through the door of their favorite local hangout. “See the Sinclaire boys anywhere?” Axel glanced around the dimly lit space. “I could use a round of pool about now.”
Gunnar shook his head. “Just us, but I’ll take your money tonight.”
Figured. The Sinclaires were all married men now, and they were more likely to share a beer at one of the bonfires Blake and Maddie hosted than over a game of pool at the Trading Post.
“You’re buying the first round then,” Axel gave his brother a playful punch on the shoulder. “I see an open table.” He wove through the dining tables that skirted the dance floor, back to where the pool tables were lined up. He began to rack the balls as he waited for Gunn. He wished he could be more like Gunn. Always laid-back, never worried. Gunnar moved through the world with a confidence and ease that naturally commanded respect. Axel had always had to hustle for the same recognition. He loved his brother and would be the first to stand with him in a fight, but sometimes it sucked living in his shadow.
Gunnar brought a pitcher and two pint glasses over to the hightop next to the pool table and began to pour. Then he lifted his glass. “Cheers.”
Axel raised his in return and took a long swallow, barely tasting the amber liquid. He grabbed the pool cue and began to circle the table.
“Break?” Gunnar asked.
He shrugged. “Sure.” Axel returned to the top of the table, lined up the cueball and gave it a solid hit, sending balls careening down the felt.
Gunnar glanced up from the balls as he circled looking for a shot. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“You sure? You look like there’s a thunderstorm right over your head.”
He pressed his lips together and shook his head, concentrating on lining up his shot. Once he’d taken it, he followed Gunnar to the other side of the table. “What the hell is she doing here, Gunn? Fuck, it’s been ten years, and she just shows back up at the ranch like it’s nothing?” Heat blossomed under his collar, threatening to spill out.
Gunn flashed him a knowing grin, and shrugged. “It is nothing, isn’t it? I mean, it was ten years ago and you’re over her… right?”
“Right.” He swallowed uncomfortably. Not so much.
“’Cause if it’s not, now’s your chance to clear the air.” Gunnar knocked his chin toward the dance floor.
Axel glanced over his shoulder then turned as Coop, flanked by Emmaline Andersson and Millie Prescott, paused at the jukebox.
Of course.
Coop had the ability to befriend even a grumpy dog. Of course she’d show up with wingmen at the Trading Post. While it had been Cissy Castro who’d first brought Coop to Prairie, there’d been a whole gang of them roughly the same age, Millie among them. And Millie must have dragged Emmaline along since Cissy now lived somewhere out in Colorado.
She’d cleaned up since the afternoon. Changed into a pair of snug denims that cupped her ass perfectly, and some lacy getup on top. She looked good. His belly clenched at a brief flash of her softness under him. Then a fire of protective jealousy roared to life as he scanned the room and saw she’d turned more than a few heads.
“Axe.” Gunnar snapped his fingers in front of him. “You gonna play or stand there staring?”
Letting out a whoosh of breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, Axel turned back to the table, scanning for his next shot. When he found it, he bent and took aim but shoved the stick too forcefully and missed.
“That was an easy shot, dude.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Axel risked another glance over his shoulder. The women were still crowded around the jukebox.
Gunnar let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, man. If you’re still into her, go talk to her. Ask her to dance.”
Ha.
As if.
She’d walked out on him. Let her make the first move.
“Why’d you two break up anyway?” Gunnar asked, walking around the table and abandoning their game for the moment.
How in the hell was he supposed to answer that? She dropped me like a hot rock and never looked back? The shame of that still stung. He didn’t think he’d been an asshole. He’d done his best to be attentive, take care of her needs. He’d made sure he always held her hand in public. Little things, like he’d seen Pops do with Ma. Not that Pops was a shining example of a Romeo, but Axel had grown up knowing his dad loved his mom.
In his heart of hearts, he’d always questioned whether the fact that Pops had never warmed up to Coop had anything to do with her abrupt departure. But he’d never been brave enough to ask.
Gunnar was still staring at him expectantly. Waiting for an answer. Axel shook his head, tossing off a shrug. “Doesn’t matter. The past is past. Let’s play.” He turned back to the table, trying to purge a perfect ass from his eyeballs.
They traded shots and got back to their game. But Axel couldn’t help glancing back over his shoulder. They were line dancing now, with a handful of other young women he knew, along with a few adventurous cowboys.
Keep your head in the game, man.
He shot and missed. Again. God, he was playing like shit tonight.
Gunnar finally put him out of his misery and sunk the eight ball in the side pocket. “Again?” He raised an eyebrow in question.
Axel shrugged. “Sure.”
“You were more fun when you weren’t emo over some lady… just sayin’”
“I’m not emo. Rack the balls.” Axel stalked over to the hightop and sippe
d his beer, risking a little glance at the dance floor in the process. His belly clutched. Now Coop was dancing with Johnny Benoit, whose hand was sliding dangerously close to her ass. Jealousy snaked through him, and he gripped his pint glass with a ferocity he usually reserved for when he was letting off steam about Pops.
Gunnar sidled up next to him and refilled their glasses. “Jesus, Axe. Just ask her to dance.” He took a long draw, wiped his mouth, and narrowed his eyes, smirking. “Fifty bucks says you’re too chicken shit to go talk to her.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Johnny swung her around and she tossed her head back, laughing. Fire swirled in Axel’s belly. Coop should know better. Johnny was a player of the worst kind. He didn’t know how to treat a woman right. “Fine,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “But only to keep an eye on her.”
He handed Gunn his stick and threaded his way through the tables. Anxiety pooled in his gut, a big swirling blob that made him half sick to his stomach. Everything seemed to slow, and for a moment, he remembered a conversation he’d had with his cousin Maddie, almost exactly a year ago.
“I made a mistake a few years back and let someone go because I wouldn’t listen. I wish more than anything I hadn’t.”
Only it had been ten years, and it wasn’t lack of listening. It had been fear. Plain and simple. He’d been afraid she’d give him the message he’d heard his whole life. That he wasn’t enough.
Fuck.
And now he was in his thirties, still hanging out at the town watering hole, hoping that something would change.
Fuck it.
He was guaranteed a whole lotta nothin’ if he kept on keepin’ on. Hope was right. He’d blink, and he’d be middle-aged. The worst that could happen would be that she laughed at him, and people already did that.