****
“The VA?” Coop pulled the BMW into the Veterans Administration Hospital parking lot. Belle and Pippin were visible in the rear view mirror and he eyed them dubiously. “I’m not sure those two will be allowed inside.”
“Not only will they be allowed, they’ll be welcomed.” Rylee snapped off her seatbelt and climbed out of the car. Opening the back door, she took control of both leashes and directed the dogs across the parking lot. “I’m a licensed Pet Pal handler. This is Pippin’s first visit, but Belle is an old hand at cheering up the vets. Aren’t you, sweetheart?” She rubbed the Boxer’s side. “We visit the boys every Tuesday.”
“Pet Pal?” he asked, following her through the front doors.
“A form of emotional therapy,” she answered, smiling at the woman behind the front desk. “Watch and learn.”
“Rylee!” The gray haired woman shot to her feet to skirt around the desk. “And Belle.” Belle greeted the receptionist with her usual grace as the woman smiled up at Coop.
“This is Cooper Reed, Natalie. He’s going to help me out today.”
“Hello, Cooper.” Natalie nodded her greeting then held out her hand, palm down, in front of Pippin’s nose. “And who is this handsome boy?”
“This is Pippin. I’m giving him a trial run today to see how he does.”
Pippin licked Natalie’s hand. When she scratched him between his ears, Pippin’s entire body wriggled with pleasure. “Oh, the boys are going to love this one, I’m sure.” She straightened. “Do you need me to bring you through or are you okay on your own?”
“We’re good.”
Passing through the door into the patient’s ward, Coop lifted a brow when Rylee handed him Belle’s leash.
“What do I do?” he asked, his eyes roaming over the rows of beds.
“Just follow my lead. Belle knows what to do.”
The next hour was an eye-opening experience for Coop. The patients in the all-male facility greeted the Boxer like an old friend. For her part, Belle adjusted her approach to each individual patient, propping her front paws on the edge of a bed for an enthusiastic hello or placidly waiting on all fours for the tentative brush of an unsteady hand.
A natural ambassador to conversation, the dog led him from bed to bed, and Coop found himself discussing subjects from the current political climate, to the texture of the tapioca served in the cafeteria down the hall. A military brat, he’d spoken the distinctive armed forces language from the time he could babble. Apparently, he’d retained the ability, for more than one of the men questioned in which branch he’d served. That he was the son of a decorated colonel tempered their disappointment at his answer.
Across the room, Rylee introduce Pippin to the Pet Pal experience while keeping a tight hold on his enthusiasm. As Natalie predicted, he was a hit with the boys. A natural, he seemed to recognize those requiring an extra portion of attention. He showed off his limited bag of tricks then turned his audience’s appreciation back upon them, with a wriggling wag of his body and numerous doggy smiles.
Wryly, Coop noted Pippin wasn’t the sole object of appreciation for the vets. Smiles widened on bored and fatigued faces the moment Rylee stepped into the room. She charmed the men with her dimpled smiles, easy touches, and teasing laughs. More than one pair of male eyes followed the swing of her hips as she moved about the room.
As though sensing his attention, she met his gaze across the distance. Perched on the foot of a bed occupied by a scarecrow of a man with a grizzled beard, her smile was open, natural. Simple joy shimmered in every line of her slim body.
For a supposedly soft emotion, the punch of love thumping Coop square in the chest staggered him. Her pleasure for the task she performed was obvious from the moment they arrived, and even though her smile wasn’t strictly for him, it didn’t matter. For a dizzying moment, they were the only two people in the world.
She lifted her hand, beckoning him, and the surreal experience evaporated.
“Herman insisted on meeting you,” she said when he approached with Belle.
“So, you’re the pirate who’s captured our Rylee’s eye.” Sharp blue eyes studied Coop from a time-weathered face.
“More like she captured mine.”
“Can’t blame you there, son.” Herman nodded. “What’s your name?”
“Cooper Reed, sir.”
“I knew a sergeant Reed stationed in Germany back in the eighties.”
“Could be my father. We were in Germany about that time. He retired two years ago. Colonel Elliott Reed.”
“Sounds like him. Semper Fi. Did you follow in his footsteps?”
Coop shot Rylee a raised brow at the unapologetic interrogation. She shrugged and her eyes twinkled with humor.
“No, I didn’t, sir. My feet carried me in a different direction.”
“Coop is a lawyer with the district attorney’s office, Herman,” Rylee offered.
Herman’s gaze never wavered from Coop. “You have political ambitions, do you?”
Coop chuckled. The grizzled marine may look ancient, but his mind remained sharp as a tack. “I’ve thought about it.”
Coop caught the subtle stiffening of Rylee’s shoulders. “You don’t like politicians?”
“I don’t know any to dislike.” She rose and reached into her back pocket. She slipped a packet of teriyaki beef jerky beneath Herman’s pillow.
“That’s a good girl.” Herman patted her hand, and then rubbing Pippin’s head, he pinned Coop with a challenging stare. “You treat our girl right, do you hear? I’m still enough of a marine to kick some ass and take names.”
Coop nodded soberly, fighting a grin. “I’ll keep that in mind, sir.”
Chapter Fourteen
“This was a bad idea, guys.”
At Rylee’s side, Belle sat patiently, while Pippin nosed the canvas bag holding the cold drinks and sandwiches Rylee had prepared. All around them officers of the court came and went in their business suits. Briefcases and Blackberries distinguished them from the civilians who had business at the busy courthouse.
She’d agreed to meet Coop in the park around the corner and should have stuck to the plan. Impatient, she wanted those few extra minutes with him that traveling to the park together would give her. Pitiful and stupid, that’s what she was. Since the first time they made love, she greedily grabbed at every possible opportunity to spend time with him, and the results were more than satisfactory.
She never considered herself a particularly sexual person—until she met Coop. In the past month, they’d spent more time in bed than out. Jealousy had never been a problem for her either, but the gorgeous pair of Gucci pumps she discovered in his closet one evening introduced her to the green-eyed monster, and now old green eyes wouldn’t leave her alone.
God, she was becoming addicted. She would need a twelve-step program in the end. Stupidly, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
However, standing on the courthouse steps in the middle of the busy lunch hour, waiting for a prominent member of the D.A.’s office to join her, was beyond stupid. It was dangerous. Oh, she didn’t think anyone would recognize her. Years had passed since the press splashed her image across the evening editions, and she wasn’t eleven years old any longer. But she hadn’t considered that being seen with Coop might draw unwanted interest in its own right, until now.
The man had political ambitions for heaven’s sake. Ponzi Pete’s little girl had no business passing time with a man who planned a career subject to public interest—an interest made crystal clear when he descended the courthouse steps. Already a well-known figure in the legal community, many of those swarming the large courtyard hailed him. Stopped for the third time, he exchanged words with a group of suited men, sending her an apologetic smile over one of their shoulders.
Several feet away, a man with an expensive-looking camera followed Coop’s gaze. A reporter no doubt, milling about the steps in search of a story. She considered melting across the street
and disappearing, but slipping away unnoticed would be near to impossible with two dogs in tow.
She lost her chance to escape when Coop broke away from the group.
Moving down the steps toward her, he smiled. “Am I late?”
He leaned down to greet her with a kiss. She avoided the maneuver, turning on her heel. “No, I was early.”
She headed toward the street as quickly as she could without appearing to run. “It’s crazy around here. Are you sure I’m not keeping you from something?”
“I don’t have to be back until two.” He adjusted his stride to hers. “Are we in a hurry?”
She peeked over her shoulder. Camera Guy stared straight at them. He brought the camera to his eye and she spun back around, increasing her speed.
“Nope, I’m just starved.” She jiggled the bag. “I brought lunch.”
They reached the curb, forced to stop and wait for the light to change with the others preparing to cross the street. A quick glance back showed Camera Guy closing the distance fast. A muffled groan escaped her lips. If she were alone, she’d take the chance and dodge the oncoming traffic. But Coop would call her crazy and she couldn’t endanger the dogs.
“What’s wrong?” Coop asked.
She shook her head, willing the light to change.
“Hey.” Coop clasped her elbow, forcing her to look at him. “What’s going on?”
Nosy photographers were something she should have expected getting involved with Cooper Reed. She’d seen his picture in the paper several times since meeting Elliot, and with plans to run for office at some point, she now understood why the press paid him interest. Any press was good press or so they said, but they were wrong. The wrong kind could destroy lives, and she didn’t want to be the noose that hung Coop’s political career before it even got started.
Coop wasn’t stupid. From his questions, he obviously sensed she was hiding something, and paranoia over a photographer would add to his suspicions. Unfortunately, her evasion couldn’t be helped.
“There’s a photographer,” she nodded behind them. “I think he’s following us.”
Coop looked over his shoulder. “He’s harmless. Just a local society snapper.”
The light changed and she charged ahead. Coop kept pace.
“I don’t like having my picture taken.” She flicked a glance at him to see what he made of her comment.
Humor danced in his eyes. “It’s just a camera, Rylee.”
“It’s an invasion of privacy.”
His steps slowed as he glanced back once more.
She tugged at his arm. “Don’t slow down, you idiot. He’s gaining on us!”
He laughed, but when she sent him a fulminating glare, he sobered. The smile slipped from his face. “You’re serious.”
“Of course I’m serious.” She searched frantically for an avenue of escape. None presented itself. She scanned the sidewalk behind them and yelped. Twenty feet away, Camera Guy continued to close the distance. “Crap, crap, crap!”
“Hold on to the dogs,” Coop said and flung up his arm. A cab screeched to a halt in front of them. A moment later, the four of them were jammed into the worn back seat.
“Where to?” the cabbie asked, not at all phased by the over two-hundred pounds of combined dog invading his vehicle.
Coop rattled off the address of his apartment several blocks away, and then settled back in the seat for the short ride. Rylee followed suit, doing her best to calm her racing heart. Considering what had just happened, she couldn’t fool herself any longer. It was time she utilized the “walk away as friends” clause they’d negotiated. Instead of the park, they’d be sharing lunch at his place—where they’d inevitably end up in bed. Overall, things couldn’t have worked out better, since this was the last time they’d be together.
Coop shoved Pippin away when he attempted a hello kiss, and met her gaze over the bodies of both dogs. “Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“I thought I had,” she answered evasively.
“Did you know that guy?”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life. I assumed he was following you, Mr. Future District Attorney.”
“You’re probably right, but I can guarantee he wasn’t planning to square me up in the viewfinder.”
“Are you sure you’re a lawyer?” Cocking her head, she studied him. “From the way you managed to ditch him so handily, you have some pretty impressive criminal instincts.”
“Rylee.” His low tone said he recognized her attempt to throw him off the subject, but he wasn’t falling for it.
“I told you.” She crossed her arms and looked out the window. “I don’t like having my picture taken.”
He’d either believe her or not. It hardly mattered. Cooper Reed had to go. And he would. Right after lunch.
****
“Want to grab a beer?” Tim asked from the office doorway.
“Your timing is perfect.” Coop closed the file in front of him, pushed the chair back from his desk and stood. He slipped the file into the cabinet behind the desk before grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the chair. Shoving his arms in the sleeves, he straightened the line of the jacket with a sharp tug and grinned. “I thought you had plans tonight. Doesn’t being late for dinner with the in-laws qualify as an automatic week on the couch?”
“I know how to get around Lilly,” Tim replied.
“So you’ve said before, but in this case it’s not necessary. I’ll understand if you need to go.”
“Lilly will understand.”
At the unexpected seriousness of his reply, Coop studied Tim more closely. The older man’s expression grim, he stepped the rest of the way into the office, a file clutched in his beefy hand.
A knot of tension settled in Coop’s gut. “What’s up?”
He slapped the file against his thigh. “I got the report back on your dog trainer.”
He said nothing else, but then he didn’t need to. Something red flagged in Tim’s investigation of Rylee, and that something was bad enough to make him reluctant to discuss the details here in the office. The knot of tension in Coop’s gut grew to the magnitude of a bowling ball.
“Should I skip the beer and go straight to Scotch?” Holding his friend’s gaze, Coop waited for Tim to tell him he’d have no need for Dutch courage.
“Probably,” he said. “I think I’ll join you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Coop pounded a fist on his father’s door and tried to control his fury. Ponzi Pete’s daughter. Son of a bitch!
Those flashes of panic, the sarcastic evasions and this afternoon’s flight from the paparazzi, suddenly made terrifying sense. As did her cryptic comment when he kissed her goodbye before returning to the courthouse.
“Every woman should have a lover like you, at least once in her life,” she’d said.
Her words carried the tone of finality, but at the time he’d been too sated to notice. He’d bet a thousand dollars the brush with the photographer spooked her enough that she’d decided to bolt. Considering her infamous family connection, that worked fine for Coop. But first, he was going to wring her neck!
“Coop!” Sil’s smile went wide when she opened the door. Her hand on Pippin’s collar kept the dog from leaping on Coop in welcome.
“Where’s Rylee,” he demanded, not caring when her smile turned to confusion at his brusque tone.
“She’s in the kitchen. We—”
He brushed past and his long strides carried him through the condo with Sil and Pippin at his heels. He found her in the kitchen, a mound of peeled potatoes on the counter in front of her. She looked up when he rounded the corner, her quiet smile of greeting fading as he stalked toward her.
Elliott turned at Coop’s approach, the boot covering his father’s broken foot propped on the rung of the stool he occupied. “Hey, son. What—”
“What the hell kind of game are you playing?” Coop tossed Tim’s file on the counter beside the potato
es.
“Excuse me,” Sil drawled, but she said no more when Rylee held up a hand.
Pippin whined and she silenced him with a curt command. Belle pressed against Rylee’s thigh, watching Coop with intent eyes. Rylee didn’t look at the file. She lifted her chin a notch in defense.
“Why don’t you tell me what kind of game you think I’m playing?”
So pissed he could hardly see straight, Coop propped both hands on the counter, leaning in close. “Alison Rylee Pierce Morris?” he rattled off her legal name.
Her chest expanded with a deep breath but she didn’t look away. “You investigated me.” Her words were a statement, not a question.
“Damned right I did.”
“Coop,” Elliott began.
“Hold it, Dad,” Coop barked at the interruption. “Do you know who she is?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Coop pushed off the counter and spun on him. “And you didn’t think her full name was something I should know?” He jerked his gaze back to Rylee. “I’ve been sleeping with a frigging con artist!” he roared.
The barest flicker of hurt showed in her flinch. She recovered quickly, but the color leached from her face and her eyes went blank as a doll’s. Her usual melodic drawl came out flat and cold. “That’s insulting…and untrue.”
“Is it?” he mocked. “You’ve got your hands wrapped around millions of dollars through Adam’s House and don’t try to deny it. Brian is my friend,” he mimicked her southern drawl. “We do lots of things together.” He snorted his disdain. “Bullshit! Sil and Brian are your front men.”
“You’ve got it all figured out. Don’t you, Mr. Future District Attorney?” She didn’t wait for an answer. Swiping up the towel at her elbow to wipe her hands, she turned to Sil. The smile curving her lips didn’t reach her eyes. “Would you mind watching the dogs for a little bit?”
Bright spots of color stained Sil’s cheeks and her eyes were drenched with angry tears. “You know I don’t mind, baby.”
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