“She’s…” He ran his tongue over his teeth, searching for the right words to describe the woman working to serve them up lunch. He turned back to Elliott, settling on, “something else.”
“You have no idea.”
“Who is she?” Coop asked, dropping into the chair across from the couch.
“She owns River View. Her condo is below mine.”
“Owns the building?” Coop’s gaze flicked to the kitchen where she ladled soup into bowls with easy grace. “A dog trainer who owns a prime piece of riverfront? I wasted my money on law school.”
Elliott chuckled. “From what I understand, she inherited the building from her grandmother.”
Coop grunted and settled down to the matter at hand. “Give me a list of what you need. I’ll pack you a bag.”
“Where am I going?”
“My place. I don’t have any traveling on the docket for the next couple of weeks, so I’ll be home at night. I’ll hire someone in to stay with you during the day.”
Elliott shook his head. “Not necessary, though I appreciate the offer.”
“Recuperating at my place is the most logical solution, Dad. I have a full caseload right now. I need to be in the city, close to the office and court. Adding commute time to twelve hour days will cut into the time I can be around.”
“I don’t need you to stay with me, here or at your place.”
“Dad.” Coop sighed. “You’re going to need assistance, at least for the next few days.”
“I have it covered.”
Coop frowned. Whenever Elliott Reed used that tone, the topic was closed for further discussion. “At least let me hire a nurse. I’ll feel better knowing someone is with you.”
“You’d just be wasting your money.”
Rylee strolled toward them, a tolerant smile curving her lips. A dishtowel lay draped over one shoulder while wisps of fragrant steam curled from the matching bowls on the tray she carried.
“Sil will just find a reason to send your nurse packing.” She set the tray on the coffee table. “She’s territorial.”
She handed the towel to Elliott, and then picked up one of the bowls. Cocking her head, she studied him. “Do you need help? Or can you feed yourself?”
Elliott grinned. “I can manage, but I wouldn’t dare hurt your feelings if you insist on feeding me.”
She straightened, handing him the bowl and a spoon. “Save the charm for Sil, big guy. You’ll need it.” She turned to Coop.
“I’ve been feeding myself for years,” he said dryly.
Delighted laughter filled the room and a dimple winked in her cheek. She held out the second bowl. “A man of hidden talents.”
His gut muscles tightened at the humor dancing in her dark eyes, and because he always believed in exploring innate, physical signals of attraction, he let his fingers linger against hers a bit longer than necessary as he took the bowl. Her eyes widened at the deliberate contact, her pupils dilating owlishly, and the tightening in his gut intensified.
Interesting…and unexpected, considering Rylee Pierce wasn’t his usual type. Long, cool blondes were his preference.
Like Ashley? A spurt of irritation had him clenching his jaw. That relationship was over. A woman who considered attending a fashion show more important than putting a murderer behind bars wasn’t worth the effort, no matter how good the sex.
“Who’s Sil?” he asked, covering his irritation by scooping up a spoonful of soup. His taste buds cheered at the savory bite of excellent pasta fagioli.
“Who’s Sil?” Rylee repeated and blinked. Coop followed her confused glance, darting in Elliott’s direction. His father studiously filled his mouth with soup as though starved. “Silvia Burke” Rylee said slowly, “is my aunt.” She turned to Coop. “She’s running an errand. She’ll be back soon.”
“Is she his nurse?”
Elliott choked on his soup.
Sudden tension hardened Rylee’s delicate facial features. She moved behind the arm of the couch, her mouth pinched flat in annoyance. Coop flinched when she landed two healthy thumps between Elliott’s shoulder blades with the flat of her hand. He was about to point out that thumping someone with bruised ribs was a bad idea, when the slam of the condo’s front door stopped him.
The woman who stepped into the room looked like a cross between an Irish gypsy and a hippy. Faded bellbottom jeans, frayed at the cuffs, rested on neon-pink toenails that peeked out from a pair of chunky, leather sandals. Her wispy, floral-print peasant blouse floated about her hips and displayed some impressive curves. A silk scarf wrapped around her head of short, chestnut hair. Large, silver hoops adorned her ears and matched the collection of bangles circling one slim wrist. Her pale skin was close to flawless and the sparkle in her green eyes enhanced the illusion of ageless perfection.
The mysterious Aunt Sil?
Crossing the room, she changed direction mid-stride. “You must be Cooper.”
No Northeastern bite here. Mint juleps and hoopskirts echoed in her pure, southern drawl. Coop rose to his feet when she stopped before him.
“I’m Silvia.” Her steady, green gaze roamed his face. “The people I care about call me Sil. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Cooper.”
To his surprise, instead of offering him her hand, she rose on her chunky sandals and planted a smacking kiss on his mouth. Before he could respond, she spun toward Elliott, dropped a paper bag from a local pharmacy on the coffee table and settled on the couch at his hip. The bangles at her wrist jangled as she brushed gentle fingertips over his swollen jaw.
“Damn, sugar. He looks just like you. I can’t decide which of you is yummier.”
Coop didn’t need the familiar itch at the back of his neck to tell him Silvia Burke was the latest in Colonel Elliott Reed’s babe parade. Reclaiming his seat, Coop glanced between his father and Rylee’s aunt, making eyes at each other like a couple of giddy teenagers.
Rylee’s tension suddenly made sense. She didn’t understand, or appreciate, Elliott’s reluctance to mention his true relationship with her aunt. Coop could have explained the oversight had nothing to do with Silvia. He and Elliott simply didn’t discuss the colonel’s lady-friends. The purposeful omission helped keep the peace.
Elliott’s smile, when he met Coop’s gaze across the coffee table, resembled a guilty grimace. Coop shook his head.
“How are you feeling, sugar?” Sil murmured.
“Better.” Elliott’s smile softened when he refocused on Silvia. “Now that you’re back.”
She laughed low in her throat. “Aren’t you the charmer? I picked up your medicine.”
“You’re all the medicine I need.”
Coop glanced at Rylee, standing off to the side. The tension was still evident, but her lips were curved indulgently, as if to say, what are you gonna do? She rolled her eyes and mimicked sticking her index finger down her throat. When his brows rose in response, her smile morphed into a grin.
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat and drew the lovebirds’ attention. “I’d tell the two of you to get a room, but I’d be wasting my time. Now that you’re back, Sil, I need to get downstairs before Pippin organizes a revolt.”
“He’s still here?” she demanded. “I thought you said you were flunking him out of the program.”
Rylee shrugged helplessly. “I sat him down to explain why he needed to go and he got me with his ‘don’t you believe in me anymore?’ look. I caved.”
“He’s playing you, Rylee,” Sil admonished with an arch of her brow.
“I know.”
“Do you want me to take over? He has your number.”
“No, this is between the two of us. And after what happened to Elliott, it’s personal. I’ll handle him.”
“You’re scaring Coop, ladies,” Elliott snickered and all three looked Coop’s way.
Damned straight they were scaring him. Conversing with dogs? Either Rylee Pierce and her gypsy-hippy aunt were a couple of nut cases or they believed th
ey were some kind of dog whisperers. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
“Sil and I run The Canine Academy.” Rylee explained. “A kind of boot camp for troubled dogs. Close communication between handler and animal is essential to the program’s success.”
Not having a clue what to say, Coop grunted and she grinned.
“Sounds crazy, I know, but the proof is in the pudding or in this case the pedigree. We retrain dogs and their owners who have had no luck elsewhere. Sort of a last ditch appeal, as with Pippin. And speaking of which, I’m out of here.”
She bent over Elliot, kissing him on his bruised cheek. The movement displayed her sweetly curved, denim-covered ass like a visual gift, snagging Coop’s appreciative gaze. She straightened far too quickly for his liking.
“I’ll be back later.” Her promise sounded more like a warning to Coop’s ears. “Nice meeting you, Coop,” she said, turning a smile on him.
“Same here.” He rose, glancing at his watch. “I’ll head down with you. I have to get back to the office.” He eyed Elliott. “I’ll be checking in. You have my number if you need anything.”
Elliott nodded.
“I’ll take care of your daddy,” Sil promised, then lowered her tone to more of a demand than invitation. “You come back soon, Cooper Reed. Now that I’ve met you, I’m just dying with curiosity. I’ll feed you and grill you on every little detail of your life.”
A smile twitched his lips and he shook his head at her unapologetic audacity. He pointed at the empty bowls on the coffee table. “Was the soup your creation or your niece’s?”
“Rylee was the chef today, but I did teach her everything she knows.”
“Then I’ll be back.”
“A charmer,” she drawled. “Just like your daddy.”
Coop followed Rylee out of the condo and across the balcony circling the second floor of the building. The reconfigured two-story warehouse consisted of six luxury condos, three on each floor, forming a U. The center-front of the building contained a charming, park-like courtyard. With stunning views of the city at the back and access to the lush common area facing the street, he could understand Elliott’s desire to own a unit at River View. What Coop didn’t get was how Elliott managed the price tag. But the one time he had asked after the down payment, Elliott answered with a vague, “I shuffled a few things around.”
Rylee bypassed the metal-caged elevator at the center of the balcony, heading for one of the two curving stairways leading to the courtyard. She skipped down the steps like a schoolgirl heading to her next class. Coop followed more sedately, his eyes on the seductive roll of her hips. On the ground floor, she stopped at the door below Elliott’s and pressed a key into the lock. A distant barking echoed inside.
“Have you got a kennel in there?” Coop stopped by her side.
She opened the door, that intriguing dimple winking in her smile. “Actually, I do.”
One of the kennel’s occupants drew Coop’s attention, appearing from behind the door. The sleek Boxer eyed Coop, its cropped ears flicked forward in interest above watchful, mahogany eyes and a blunt muzzle.
“The infamous Pippin?” Coop guessed.
Rylee widened the opening and scrubbed a hand between the dog’s ears. “This is Annabelle, my roommate. Say hello to Coop, Belle.”
Belle immediately dropped to her haunches. Coop hesitated, feeling foolish, and then accepted the dog’s offered paw. After a single pump, he let go.
“You run the dog thing from your home?”
“Are you asking out of curiosity or as a government official?”
Prickly and beautiful…
“I left my government-official hat at the office.”
She chuckled. “The building is zoned for business and since it’s only Belle and me, I have the room. A separate business entrance is located around back along with a patch of lawn where we work the dogs and their owners.”
He nodded. “Can I ask you a question?”
“That depends.” The subtle wariness in her eyes didn’t quite match the cheekiness of her response. “If you’re asking for tips on how to get your puppy to stop eating your briefcases, I’ll have to charge you a consultant’s fee.”
“I’m puppy-less at the moment.” He grinned, and then lifted his eyebrows incredulously. “Briefcases?”
“You’d be surprised what dogs find appetizing.”
He shook his head in wonder. “No, I don’t need any dog advice. I wanted to ask how long my father has been seeing your aunt.”
“Five months.” When he frowned, she asked, “Why? Is there a problem?”
“Not exactly. I just know the colonel. Your aunt seems like a nice woman. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”
“Why would she be hurt?”
“Six months is about Elliott’s limit.” His remark sounded harsh, but then the truth often was. “That’s about the time he usually walks away.”
“I don’t think that will be the case this time.”
“For your aunt’s sake, I hope that’s true, but…” He shrugged.
Her gaze darted to the landing above. She said nothing for a long moment, cocking her head to study him as though she was struggling to make up her mind about something. Those dark eyes, so clearly assessing, sent blood racing from his head and upper body to gather below his waist. He drew a slow breath at the pleasant rush of arousal.
“That won’t be the case this time,” she repeated with firm resolve.
He cleared his throat. “And you know this because?”
Utter confidence filled her tight smile. “Because…if Elliott even thinks of walking away from Sil, he’ll have to deal with me.”
Chapter Three
“You what?”
“I married her.”
Holding the phone to his ear, Coop straightened from the open file on his desk to sprawl back in the chair.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you, Dad. I just don’t believe you.”
“I married Silvia Burke three days ago,” Elliott repeated, his voice hard with resolve.
“Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”
“Because I’m in love with her.”
Coop snorted. “Right. What happens when the next babe comes along and you decide you’re in love with her? You have a short attention span with women, but at least you haven’t married any of them. Not since…”
“Since your mother?” Elliott finished.
Coop frowned. He rarely thought of the woman who gave birth to him, much less discussed her with his father. Claudia Reed made her choice, walking away without a backward glance, and though Elliott stuck around, doing his best to raise their son, Coop divided the blame for their broken marriage evenly. Whatever other problems were between his parents, Elliott’s womanizing played a large part in their breakup.
“My mother has little to do with this, but while we’re on the subject, that didn’t work out very well, did it?”
“Coop.” Elliott sighed. “Claudia and I were young and stupid. Selfish too, in our own ways. You and I have never really discussed what happened—”
“And I don’t see the need now,” Coop interrupted.
“No, I don’t suppose you would.” Elliott paused. “I’ll simply say this. I never remarried after your mother because, although I’ve loved many of the women I’ve known over the years, I was never in love with them.”
“Give me a break, Colonel. You sound like a greeting card.”
“You don’t exactly live the life of a monk, yourself,” Elliott mocked, “so you know what it is to love women. But what you don’t know is that when the right woman comes along, everything changes.”
Coop dropped his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Dad.”
“Congratulations would be a good start.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Congratulations.”
Elliott chuckled at Coop’s dry tone. “One last thing. You have your doubt
s. Nothing I can do about that, but Sil is important to me. I’d like for you to get to know her.”
“Dad,” Coop started to object. His childhood memories were filled with the faces of women Elliott brought around for Coop to get to know, only so the colonel could move on to the next, right about the time Coop became attached. He hated the familiar, oily nausea those memories produced.
“I married Silvia, Coop,” Elliott said as though reading Coop’s mind. “I’m not asking you to welcome her with open arms, just to keep an open mind and give me the chance to prove this time, this woman, is different.”
“I’m not a little boy anymore and you don’t need my approval.”
“But I want your approval, son, and Silvia is innocent in our conflicts. She wants to get to know you. Give her a chance, please. Give us a chance.”
Unsure if Elliott was referring to the relationship he shared with Silvia, or the one they shared as father and son, Coop remained silent, scraping a hand over his face.
“Sil wanted me to invite you to dinner tomorrow night. Will you come?”
A soft knock on the open office door drew Coop’s attention. He opened his eyes and straightened, waving in the familiar blond giant. Tim Watson crossed the room to the seat across from Coop’s desk.
“Why not,” he said into the phone. “What time?”
“Six.”
“Okay.”
“Thank you, son,” Elliott said quietly.
“I’ll see you then.” Coop disconnected the call, unconvinced of his father’s sincerity, but intrigued all the same.
“Welcome back.” Tim’s forbidding face, complete with a bulbous nose bearing the signs of a youth spent on the mean streets of Detroit, wore an easy smile. A lawyer by degree, Tim’s true gift was his uncanny talent for sniffing out details others often missed. More than two decades with the D.A.’s office and he’d yet to argue a case, a circumstance the entire office found more than acceptable. As head of the investigative department, his fingerprints were on most of the files in the building, contributing to the impressive conviction rate the office enjoyed.
The older man’s sleuthing abilities were instrumental in the prosecution of Coop’s first case, when the incumbent D.A. took a chance on a decorated marine’s son whose bar results were still sticky with wet ink. Coop won the case, and in return, Tim earned Coop’s gratitude and respect. Eight years later, Tim and his wife, Lilly, were Coop’s closest friends.
That Dating Thing Page 2