“Maybe, and that’s the first sound point you’ve made.”
“You like the professor. I can tell.”
“Maybe,” he said, walking to the end of the bar. “Anyway, I’ve got work to do, and much better things to do with my time than listen to you yammer on and on,” Cooper said, smiling as he walked away.
“I’m just saying, you used to be good, but who knows anymore,” he said to Cooper’s back, laughing along with Cooper as he walked away.
Way to go, Luis, he said to himself, pleased with the outcome, surprised that his handprint wasn’t visible on the back of Cooper’s shirt since he’d pushed so hard. Only a matter of time, he thought. Cooper was nothing if not competitive, and he was interested. Way more than he was letting on. Luis had known him long enough to know when something got under his skin, and it wasn’t his ex who was bothering him. The professor and her lack of cooperation were needling his buddy. Luis had watched them together yesterday, Cooper the embodiment of cool disinterest whenever he happened to be in the professor’s vicinity. She’d managed to wiggle under Coop’s skin but good. So there was no way Luis was going to let him off the hook.
#
Midday Wednesday
Cooper looked up at the knock on his door. He’d been holed up in his office working for most of the morning.
“Come in,” he said.
It was Celeste, standing in his doorway now a tray in her hand—his lunch. Alex usually left it on a tray for him to pick up, so he could bring it back to his office and eat it while he worked. Today Celeste had taken it upon herself to deliver it to him. He checked his watch. Yep, it was eleven thirty, his regularly scheduled lunchtime.
“Alex asked me to bring you your lunch. He said you sometimes forget to eat. He thinks you work too hard. It didn’t make sense to let it go cold when I was free to bring it to you,” she said, releasing a string of chatter as she made her way over to his desk. He moved his paperwork aside, and she walked around his desk, standing next to him, a little closer than necessary, he noticed. He sat back in his chair and watched as she placed the tray on his desk.
“Alex is a great cook,” she said, picking up the napkin. She opened it and handed it to him.
“Chef,” he said, correcting her.
“Chef,” she said, smiling.
“Thanks, but I can take it from here,” he said.
“Sure,” she said, and moved away. “So things really turned out like you wanted them, I guess. The Brewpub seems to be just as you’d dreamed. You should be really proud of yourself,” she said, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“It did. I am,” he said.
“Was it hard getting to this point? You were so determined to get started after we returned to the States,” she said, sitting in the chair, tucking her hands under her body, all shy, cute. He used to think she was the prettiest thing, sitting like that, waiting for him to finish work. He was so past being the dude who had found those traits and mannerism appealing.
“Yes,” he said.
“What would you attribute your success to?” she said.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Here, bringing my lunch, asking me questions,” he said.
“I was just curious. I hoped we might be friends again,” she said.
“Maybe another time. I need to get back to work,” he said.
“Sure, sure,” she said, standing up.
“Thank you for the delivery,” he said, following her as she made her way to the door. “But I’ll pick it up from here on out. Okay?”
“Sure. I was just trying to help. Really, just trying to help,” she said, walking quickly through the door.
#
Kendall took a seat at the table. She was hungry and thirsty from this morning’s activities. It had been a let’s-get-physical day, working with Myra over at the state park. They’d missed bingo and headed straight to the Brewpub afterwards, and she was tired—and did she say hungry and thirsty? She looked around the room. Where’s Barnabus? she wondered.
People, she’d learned, voluntarily worked at the state park. Her aunt was one of the many who spent their time in service to it, some even spent their vacations working there—weeks at a time, no less. Who knew? Why? had been her first thought, but she’d kept her mouth shut and worked and learned that the park was a pretty cool place to hang out and a pretty cool place to spend a vacation. It was beautiful and tranquil, and she understood the pull more as the morning wore on.
She’d driven her little cart around, taking in the sights and sounds of the park as she cleaned out bathrooms. She’d been assigned to work with this older couple, Francisco and his wife, Rita, retirees who were up here from El Paso. Kendall had left Myra behind at the gate, taking money in exchange for entry permits and maps.
“Hey, Myra, Professor, you ladies are looking really nice this afternoon. Think you might like to try one of our beers today, Professor, or will it be tea again?” Cooper asked, smiling at her.
“No, thanks, Barnabus,” Kendall said, wondering who this friendly man was.
“You should try the honey wheat ale. I bet you’d like that,” the Colonel offered.
“Tea’s fine,” Kendall said.
“Tea it is. Your wish is my command,” Cooper said.
“Laying it on a little thick, don’t you think, Barnabus?” she said, placing heavy emphasis on the Barnabus.
“No, just being nice. Myra’s enjoying your visit, and I want you to know how happy we all are to have you here,” he said as he walked away.
“Thanks,” Kendall said, eyeing him like he was up to something. The tack he was taking was about a 180-degree turnaround from yesterday.
“See, he can be nice,” Myra said.
“He sure can,” the Colonel chimed in. Kendall rolled her eyes, smiled, and scanned the room for him again. He was standing at the bar. He caught her eye and winked at her. She stared back at him, fighting a smile. He knew it, and he laughed. She turned away quickly before she joined him. Okay, so Barnabus was trotting out his nice act. Jekyll and Hyde had nothing on him, and what was she going to do with Barnabus-the-nice?
#
Later on that evening, Kendall and Myra sat in the back room of Myra’s house, watching some TV. Well, Myra was watching and knitting, her fingers flying through a scarf she was starting. Kendall had zoned out hours ago, her thoughts focused on Barnabus and everything that had happened since her arrival. She was nowhere near as irritated as she’d been. Barnabus and his teasing were working, softening the last bit of her resistance. A person could only be angry for so long—at least that was true for her. Lark was the only person she knew who could hold on to a grudge forever.
Honestly, she could understand Cooper’s reasoning, his need to question her and look out for her aunt, and in some ways she appreciated that someone cared enough to take care of her aunt, particularly since Uncle George’s death. Outside of Vivian, Kendall, and Lark, her aunt had no family left. So yes, she appreciated Barnabus-the-protector. Not that she’d let him know that, at least not yet, but she was back to considering him again, back to wanting to play golf with him, followed by…probably not her smartest idea, but really, why not?
#
Cooper pulled into Myra’s drive. He was here because it was where he usually spent his Wednesday evenings, hanging out and watching TV with her, and today he’d have the pleasure of seeing the professor, his new preoccupation. She’d been on his mind way more that she should have, and way more than he would have thought possible.
Luis was right, he thought, pondering their conversation from the previous day. Why waste the summer when he and the professor could put it to much better use. Yes, it was that big ol’ challenge of sex with her again that was tied to the end of a string, like a bone, hanging from a branch in front of his face.
He’d moved past his anger and irritation at that little pouring-out-his-beer payback episode. If the shoe ha
d been on the other foot, he might have found a way to play the revenge game too. He could also live with her other retribution, a minor one, her refusal to call him Cooper.
He brought forth a picture of the professor from that second night, angry and voicing her anger. She’d taken the gator’s keys and tried to run him over with her golf cart. Really, anytime he encountered her now, it was all challenge. Who knew having a woman stand up to him could get his juices flowing, but apparently it did. A sign of strength, perhaps, something he silently required in the one, if he were to borrow Luis’s choice of words. But he was nowhere that serious, nor did he wish to be.
A challenging and fiery partner for sex, now that was a whole other story, and he couldn’t quite let go of the idea of it, and why should he? He didn’t have to, he’d decided. She so wanted him again, and all it would take was a little bit more charm. He smiled at that thought, getting out of his truck, and now it was time get things started, to turn on more of his charm and turn this professorship around.
#
The doorbell rang, awakening Kendall. She’d started to doze, thoughts of a naked Barnabus dancing in her head. “Do you want me to get that?” she asked Myra.
“It’s probably Cooper,” Myra said, eyes glued to the television. Her aunt took great pleasure in her evening shows.
Kendall made her way to the front door. It stood open, and yes, it was Barnabus standing on the other side of the screen door.
“Well, look who’s here,” Kendall said as she unlocked and opened the door.
“Just checking on Myra, my regular scheduled visit. Make sure you’re not taking her money,” he said, standing next to her.
“Hardy har har, Barnabus,” she said in her best seaworthy-captain imitation. He laughed.
“I really dislike that name.”
“What, Barnabus? What’s not to like about it? Your momma gave it to you for a reason,” she said, smiling. “Would you prefer for me to call you Barny instead?” she asked. He laughed again.
“I prefer Cooper,” he said, moving to stand in front of her, all up close and personal. She stepped back, not sure what he was up to now—more of the playfulness from lunch, she guessed.
“Where’s Myra?” he said, smiling down at her, like he had her number, before he strolled away, heading for the back of the house.
“Back porch,” she said, and followed him. She watched him enter the room, kiss Myra on the forehead, and take a seat next to her on the small couch.
“How are you?” Myra said, reaching for one of Cooper’s hands and securing it in hers.
“Tired,” he said, propping his feet up on the small table in front of them. Kendall took a seat in the chair off to the side of the couch, and the three of them sat and watched TV. Myra and Cooper discussed parts of the program, both of them familiar with it, having watched it together often. While they watched the show, Kendall tried not to watch him.
And avoiding looking at him was not the easiest thing to do. He was something to see, and he seemed unaware of his attractiveness, which actually made him a little more appealing—or maybe he was so used women gawking that he didn’t notice it anymore. He seemed to prefer the in-need-of-a-shave look, and like usual, he was wearing a Coopersville Brewpub T-shirt tucked into shorts and sandals on his feet at the ends of the two sturdy and fine legs stretched out in front him. He looked over and caught her staring and smiled. She was the first to look away. What was he up to now?
They sat in silence mostly for the next hour until the program was over. He and Myra discussed what to expect from next week’s episode.
“I’d better get going,” he said, standing up. He bent over and kissed Myra’s forehead again.
“Kendall, will you see Cooper to the door?” Myra asked.
“Yes, Kendall, why don’t you see Cooper to the door?” he said, smiling, his eyes filled with mischief.
“Sure,” Kendall said, rolling her eyes, but rising from the couch, not at all surprised by her aunt’s request—more pushing them together, not even bothering to hide her desire to see them linked.
“I was just kidding. I’m fine, Myra. I know the way out,” he said, smiling.
“You don’t mind, do you, Kendall?” Myra asked, turning to look at Kendall, a warm smile on her face.
“No, not at all. You ready, Barnabus?” she said.
#
“Sure,” he said, still smiling. He followed her down the hall, admiring her shorts and T-shirt-clad body as it moved in front of him. The scent she wore, a light fragrance, something spicy, filtered into his nostrils.
Once they were outside on the front step, she turned to face him.
“So what happened to you? You know, with the woman from your past who wanted your money? The reason you thought I was after yours?”
“Myra really does mean a lot to me,” he said.
“I understand that part. The gold-digging part had nothing to do with my aunt. That was all you,” she said.
“I thought you didn’t want to know anything about me,” he said.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she said.
“It’s a long story. Trust me, it’s not all that interesting.”
She stepped off the porch, moving away from the front door in case her aunt was within earshot. She walked toward his truck, parked a few feet away in her aunt’s driveway. He followed her. They were standing in front of his vehicle now.
“If it’s important to you that I accept your apology, I need to hear the reasons behind your accusations. I’ll be the judge of whether it’s interesting or enough,” she said.
“I thought you had accepted my apology.”
She remained silent, just stood there looking at him, her arms crossed at her chest. He took a step closer to her, invading her space, but she didn’t budge. She met his eyes again.
“So if I tell you, then what?” he asked.
“Then we can try to be friends.”
“You want to be my friend, Professor?”
“It’s important to Myra that we get along.”
“You want to know all about me for Myra’s sake?” he asked.
“Yes. I didn’t say all about you—just about your association with gold diggers.”
“Right. But that’s not the only reason, is it?” he said, taking a step closer to her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, looking around, and was that was fear he saw in her eyes? It was mixed in with an obscene amount of interest. She so wanted him again.
“What do you think I’m doing? You want me, which works, because I want you too. We were good together. Actually we were better than good,” he said. He took a step closer, and she took one back. He moved forward, and she retreated again until she was out of real estate, her back resting against his truck’s front fender. He put his hands on her waist and scooted her around to the front part of his truck, passing the driver’s-side door. He stopped moving her when he reached the door to the backseat. Barnabus had one of those trucks with the extended cab.
#
“No way, Barnabus,” she said, giving him her stern expression, planting her feet. He’s really close, Kendall thought, swallowing.
“Cooper,” he whispered, his mouth near hers, and he smiled widely before he settled his mouth on hers, softly running his tongue along the seam of her lips, probing. She kept them locked together. He pulled back, a hairsbreadth away. “You’re thinking about it. You want it, I can read it in your eyes, feel the energy coming off you, and you’re wasting time pretending otherwise,” he said. He lifted her then and sort of pushed her into the backseat. He followed her in, closing the door behind him.
“I’m not a gold digger, and I take it personally when someone calls me that,” she said, planting both her feet in the middle of his chest. Her back was leaning against the opposite door, and she was sitting facing him.
“I know, and I’m sorry. My mistake,” he said, taking her ankles, one in each hand. He used them to pull her away from the
door and kept pulling her until she was lying flat in the seat. He leaned forward, his chest to hers, before he released her ankles and captured her hands. His mouth covered hers a second later.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth again. She opened it this time and met his tongue with hers.
“See what you’re missing. I’m sorry. I’ll say it again. I’m sorry,” he whispered a few seconds later, his mouth at her chin now, before he kissed her softly. “I love the way you taste,” he said as he tugged on her bottom lip and bit down, and then moved his tongue inside to play with hers again. His hands were busy sliding her shorts and underwear over her hips and down her legs, with a little help from her. She’d lifted her hips so he could remove them more easily.
“I’m sorry that I confused you with someone else from a time long ago,” he said, his mouth near her ear. “But why waste this?” he whispered, and her hands were at the zipper of his shorts, unzipping and reaching inside. He moaned when her hands made contact, clamping around his hardness. He sucked in air at the contact and moaned.
He pushed his hips into her hands then, and there was no mistaking what he was feeling. He pulled his hips back and thrust into her hands again, enjoying the feel of her holding him so securely, her hand a makeshift cocoon of sorts. His forehead fell to hers as he pushed into her hands, enjoying the feel of her fingers tightly wrapped around him. He kissed her lips with enough force to push her head back against the backseat. Then it went crazy between them for a while, like it was touch quickly or die trying, his lips covering hers, moving hard and swiftly over them, dueling for supremacy, and she wasn’t giving in. He reached her for hands, twining his fingers with hers. He was at the entrance to her body before she realized it, and in one smooth thrust he was embedded deep within.
WTF, she thought, even as she slid her hips up to meet his downward thrust. She moaned, ’cause this was perfect—he felt so hard, solid, and delicious as he started to move within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed her hips against his, increasing the speed of his thrusts.
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