That Dating Thing

by Crowne, Mackenzie

  Rylee arched a brow. “I’m a girl, he’s a boy.”

  “You’re dating?”

  Rylee shrugged and offered the same response she’d given Sil all those weeks ago. “We’ve shared a few meals.”

  “What else have you shared?” Wallis interjected.

  “Excuse me?”

  “He’s a law enforcement official and a public figure, Ms. Pierce,” Wallis clarified. “One who should know better than to become involved with someone with such dubious, familial ties.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me, Richard.” She batted her eyelids and cocked her head. “Or is it Dick? I don’t share your nuanced language skills. Did you have an actual question or were you making a speech?”

  “Did the two of you ever discuss the missing funds from your father’s nefarious enterprise?” he demanded.

  Clearly, Rylee’s back wasn’t the only one Wallis planned to exploit. In the scheme of things, Cooper Reed represented the bigger prize. From Coop’s wide shoulders, it would be a short climb to the top of the journalism ladder.

  The self-important reporter had just handed her the opportunity to deflect attention away from her and the foundation, while gaining a measure of revenge for her battered heart. All she had to do was keep her big mouth shut. The ensuing speculation would be the death of Coop’s political dreams.

  But her sense of fair play wouldn’t let her take advantage of the opportunity. She was as much to blame for her broken heart as Coop. Telling him the truth from the beginning, he would have walked away and none of this would have happened. She gave Coop the cover she wished she could provide for herself.

  “Since he knew me only as Rylee Pierce,” she answered, “the subject didn’t come up.”

  “And now that your identity has been revealed?”

  “Now that it has, we no longer share meals. He’s an officer of the law.” She bared her teeth in a humorless smile. “And I’m the daughter of a thief. We’ve moved on.”

  Melody’s disapproving eyes jerked up from her notepad. “He dumped you when he discovered who your father is?”

  Pretty much.

  But Rylee would be keeping that to herself, and whether Coop realized it or not he owed her a boon. Time to collect.

  “His future is bound to include far too many of these impromptu gatherings for my taste.” She smirked, satisfaction leaching into her voice. “I dumped him.”

  The reporter’s lips twisted in a smile full of feminine approval before rounding in a startled “Oh”. As one, the cameras swung to a spot over Rylee’s left shoulder.

  “Is that a fact?”

  Shoulders stiffening, she completed a slow turn to meet Coop’s raised brow.

  ****

  “What are you doing here?” Rylee’s voice held a bland note of boredom, but Coop wasn’t fooled. The wariness in her big, wounded eyes telegraphed her anxiety. At facing him or dealing with the press, he wasn’t sure. Being Rylee, she covered her distress with a smartass quip. “Isn’t there a deviant jaywalker somewhere you should be investigating?”

  Despite the flashing cameras, Coop’s grin was genuine. Damn, she was something else. She would make the perfect district attorney’s wife. As he’d listened to her, working the press with her typical mix of sarcasm and wit, disbelief warred with respect. Underlying both was relief she hadn’t skipped town after all, along with an urgent need to hustle her away, sit her down and coach her through the minefield of media interest—after he kissed her senseless.

  Though she’d been holding her own with the others, handling their questions with exactly the right lack of concern, she’d made an enemy of Wallis. Coop knew from experience, the network hopeful didn’t take kindly to being made the fool. And Rylee managed the feat while the competitor’s cameras were rolling. Wallis wouldn’t let the hit to his colossal ego go unanswered.

  Because of Coop’s clumsy handling of Tim’s report, the press, led by Wallis, was in full-out attack mode, with both Rylee and he caught in the crosshairs. It would take some fancy footwork to turn the attention to their advantage. Professionally, he’d done what he could to minimize the fallout, officially submitting Tim’s investigation to District Attorney Burns. Personally, he still had his work cut out for him. Sizing up the situation, he saw an opportunity to repair the damage with Rylee, while serving up a twist to the story the press wouldn’t be able to resist. All he needed was a little bit of luck.

  “Now, baby,” he crooned. “These people don’t know your sense of humor the way I do. They’re going to think you don’t like me.”

  To his utter surprise, he witnessed the rare sight of a speechless Rylee Pierce. Her mouth gaped open, but no sound emerged. His grin widened as he enjoyed the novelty of an experience he wasn’t bound to face again anytime soon.

  Draping an arm across her shoulders, he addressed the press. “I see you’ve met my fiancée.”

  All eyes settled on Rylee, who stilled after her attempt to dislodge his arm had failed.

  “I’m not… He’s not…” She clenched her jaw and gritted her response to their avid audience. “We are not engaged!”

  “She’s stubborn,” he said, winking at Melody. “She won’t say yes until she sees the ring.”

  “I haven’t said yes because I was never asked a question,” Rylee growled. “He’s an idiot,” she told the crowd, turning to glare up at him. “You’re an idiot.”

  “The last I knew,” Wallis interrupted, “you and Ashley Connor were an item, Mr. Reed. According to my sources, you escorted her home from the foundation’s fundraiser two days ago. When exactly did your supposed engagement to Ms. Pierce come about?”

  Coop ignored Rylee’s accusatory sneer, meeting Wallis’ sly smile. Like a murky puzzle finally solved, the scattered pieces shifted into place. Fingers of fury clenched around Coop’s stiffened spine.

  Tim had spoken to his contacts, attempting to discover who gave the information in his report to the press. Coop never considered he, himself, might have contributed to the leak. The memory of Ashley, holding the file when he brought her the blanket the night of the fundraiser, had been lost in his frantic search for Rylee. And later, after the story broke, he’d been too busy with spin control. He’d only left Ashley alone for a moment, while he went to the trunk, but a moment was long enough for her to have scanned the damning top page.

  The smirk on Wallis’ face left no doubt he had shared the story with his peers, and he’d just named his source. Coop would deal with Ashley later, for now he pinned Wallis with a steely stare.

  “I didn’t realize you’d been demoted to the gossip desk, Dick. My condolences.”

  “Something stinks here, Reed.” Wallis’ cultured tone flattened out in cold accusation. “I’m going to keep digging until I find it.”

  “If you are truly interested in facts and not just the bitter whispers of an ex-girlfriend, I can help you out.”

  Wallis bristled, but Coop dismissed him, addressing the others. “About a month ago, I requested an investigation into The Adam’s House Foundation and Ms. Pierce. District Attorney Burns released the results of an internal investigation about an hour ago. The report includes the details of my personal association with Ms. Pierce.”

  Rylee’s body jolted under his arm. He tucked her closer and held tight. Several members of the press whipped out cell phones and began dialing, presumably confirming the release of the report.

  “You were investigated because of me?” she asked quietly.

  He looked down into her eyes, full of horrified concern.

  “I volunteered my statement, Rylee. The foundation is on solid ground and so is our relationship. We have nothing to hide.”

  Her eyebrows beetled. “We don’t have a relationship. We had a dating thing.”

  He smiled. “About that dating thing.” He dropped his arm from around her shoulders, but maintained a hold on her by wrapping his fingers around her wrist when she tried to move away. With his other hand, he reached in his pocket, pul
ling out a small black box. With the tip of his thumbnail, he flipped the top open to reveal a sparkling, square-cut diamond. “What do you say we make it permanent?”

  She stared down at his offering, her face shielded from his view by the black curtain of her hair, shining in the muted light of dawn. Her shoulders hitched on a breath, and she looked up at him with tears shimmering in her eyes.

  “Haven’t you been paying attention to the questions asked here today? You are an idiot. What about your political ambitions? My father—”

  “I’m not in love with your father, Rylee,” he cut in softly. “I’m in love with you.”

  She blinked at a fresh rush of tears and he held his breath, waiting for her response.

  “Um.” Melody broke in, her cell phone pressed to her ear. “I really don’t want to interrupt this, but, according to my notes, The Adam’s House Foundation recently purchased the Cain warehouse over on Center Street, right?”

  Rylee blinked and nodded.

  Melody’s eyes were enormous. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, Mr. Reed, but it looks like the D.A.’s office got the wrong man. The Queen’s arsonist has struck again.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rylee and Brian stood with their arms wrapped around each other’s waists, but Rylee wasn’t sure who was holding up whom. They’d been on-site more than twenty-four hours, waiting for the okay from the fire department to get back inside the Cain warehouse. Throughout the night, the crowd of onlookers thinned until only he and Rylee remained. The last fire truck had rolled away two minutes ago.

  “It could have been worse,” she reminded herself, her eyes on the blackened brick exterior of the building.

  The place was a mess. Several of the new windows facing the street were broken. The new entry door, installed twelve hours before the fire started, hung from a single hinge. Oily, soot-thickened puddles dotted the walkway and yard.

  “God, Brian,” she whispered. “What if he had gone after one of the occupied buildings? How could I have born that, knowing I am to blame?”

  “Cut it out, Rye Bread.” Brian’s voice was a harsh echo of his usual low drawl. “I’m too goddamned tired to deal with a bullshit statement like that.” When her shoulders hitched and she lost the battle with tears, he looked down at her and groaned. He tightened his arm around her. “Jesus. You’re exhausted or you wouldn’t be spouting crap. And the Rylee Pierce I know doesn’t cry. Where the hell is Coop, anyway? He needs to take you home.”

  She wasn’t too tired to shoot him a teary frown. His weary smile was bright white in his soot-grimed face. Rylee figured she didn’t look much better.

  Coop had stalked the fire scene yesterday, alternately working the phone and conferring with the arson investigator. Surveying the damage, his blue eyes were hot with fury. When he finally approached her, Rylee listened while he explained his theory of how the press got hold of the story, laying most of the blame at his own feet. He told Rylee of bringing along the file containing Tim’s investigation the night of the fundraiser, and leaving Ashley alone with it for a moment or two before taking her home. Frightened and heartsick, Rylee remained silent.

  He’d left at dusk, kissing her goodbye before heading back to the office to see to the details of this morning’s arraignment of the man responsible for starting the fire. The guilty party wasn’t the real Queen’s arsonist, or even a copycat as originally suspected, but a sixty-year-old bank manager who had lost everything and never recovered because of Peter Morris.

  She scrubbed her cheeks with the heels of her hands, cringing at the slimy goop her tears left behind.

  “I’m not saying this is all my fault, Brian. Believe me, there’s enough blame to go around. But we both know that because of my connection the foundation is a target. It could happen again. I need to step aside.”

  “The hell you do,” Coop said from behind them.

  Rylee turned to find him looking tired but clean in a pair of fresh jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt. He held the leashes of both dogs in one hand. Pippin lifted his large muzzle to sniff at the air while Belle looked around as if surveying the damage.

  “It’s about damn time,” Brian sighed, releasing her with a gentle push in Coop’s direction. “Get her out of here, Coop. She’s dead on her feet and talking stupid.”

  Rylee ignored the insult, staring up at Coop. “You have my dogs,” she said inanely.

  “Possession is nine tenths of the law,” he said. “If you want them back, you’ll have to give me the right answer to the question I asked you yesterday.”

  She blinked. Sluggish, it took her a moment to comprehend. “That sounds a lot like blackmail, Councilor.”

  “My word against yours.” He paused, smiling. “Ms. Morris.”

  She twisted her lips into a smirk, and then raised a questioning brow at Brian.

  “I’m frigging exhausted.” Brian shoved a hand through his filthy hair. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  Her jaw dropped open and Coop laughed, brushing his fingertips across her cheek. “I thought you’d appreciate seeing a couple of friendly faces.”

  “Jerk.” She sighed. “You were right. Hello, my babies.” She bent to greet both dogs.

  Coop stepped close, wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her hair.

  “Don’t, Coop. I’m a mess.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Stop.” Brian laughed. “You’re going to make me hurl. Congratulations, by the way. Rylee told me you plan to make an honest woman of her. Good luck with that.”

  Coop chuckled and Rylee rolled her eyes.

  “Can we go in now, so I can go home and fall on my face?”

  Coop delayed her when she moved toward the building. “In a minute.”

  “Coop, please. I need to go inside.”

  “You will, but first, look.”

  Slipping an arm about her waist, he rotated her until they faced the street. She’d been focused on the building, failing to notice the vehicles arriving at the curb. Dozens of people climbed from cars. Trunks opened, brooms, buckets and boxes appeared. More people came on foot. She recognized some of the faces, residents of both the foundation’s buildings. Many others were strangers.

  Tony Camponelli led the procession, pushing a wheelbarrow full of cleaning supplies, with Maddie at his side. Behind them, Elliott hobbled beside Sil, using a push broom as a cane. Lilly Watson walked beside Tim, who pushed an industrial-sized vacuum. Rip Cain huffed up the sidewalk toward the building he’d sold the foundation only weeks earlier, wheeling a bright yellow bucket and mop.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Contrary to what you might think considering the press coverage, there are a few people in this city who believe in you, your vision, and appreciate all you’ve done.”

  Like ticket holders to a sporting event they came, swarming the street and sidewalks. With a nod in Rylee’s direction, Tony took charge of the small army of volunteers, setting up a makeshift command center and passing out assignments to begin the dirty job of scrubbing away all evidence of the fire. Without a word, Brian wandered over to help.

  Rylee shifted in Coop’s arms to face him. She could barely speak around the lump in her throat. “You did this?”

  “You did this.” He gently squeezed her. “I made a few phone calls.”

  The tears came again, despite her battle to blink them back. She tucked her head to his chest and held on. With the events of the past twenty-four hours, they had no opportunity to discuss his surprising proposal, but while she had a few things to say about his outrageous method, she couldn’t fault his intent. And she wasn’t going to let him back out now. For better or worse, Ponzi Pete’s little girl had caught herself a man worthy of the name. She’d be keeping him.

  “Ms. Pierce?”

  Rylee shifted a hand to wipe her tears before turning. A low growl sounded in Pippin’s throat and Coop tightened his hold on the leash.

  Melody Brighton stood several feet
away, a half-dozen willowy beauties surrounding her. Rylee’s eyebrows arched. Dressed more appropriately for a society luncheon than a post fire mop-up, their presence drew the attention of more than one pair of male eyes.

  “Ashley.”

  Coop’s voice held a note of warning and Rylee groaned when her gaze settled on the tall blonde at the center of the group. The last forty-eight hours had been hell. She was too tired and grimy to clash verbal swords with a stunningly beautiful, vindictive bitch right now. Relieved when Ashley addressed Coop instead of her, the blonde’s words caught her by surprise.

  “My friends and I are here to help, Cooper, and I’m also here to apologize.” Her hesitant blue gaze dropped to Pippin before swinging to Rylee. “I acted badly, Ms. Pierce. Cooper’s obvious interest in you stung my pride. I acted without thinking. But this.” She lifted a graceful hand to indicate the destruction. “This is just ugly, and I’m sorry for my part in causing it. Forgive me.”

  “I guess I could do that.” Rylee shot a sidelong glance up at Coop and smiled. “Since I can see myself lashing out under similar circumstances.”

  A smile curved the lips of Giovanni’s million-dollar girl.

  “But, Ashley?” Rylee added.

  “Yes?”

  “If you ever come near Coop again,” she said sweetly, “you won’t have to worry about my dog. I’ll kick your ass myself.”

  Coop threw back his head on a bark of laughter, and Melody and the lovelies surrounding Ashley joined him. Pippin added to the melee with deep-throated barking. The joyous sound, in the midst of so much loss, lifted some of the heaviness from Rylee’s shoulders.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Ashley kept a wary eye on Pippin, but her smile remained. “Come on, ladies. We’ve got work to do.”

  “They’ll be more of a hindrance than help.” Melody followed their progress as they strolled over to the command center. “But the pictures will make great copy.”

  “So, you’re here in an official capacity?” Rylee asked the young journalist.

  “I’m always a reporter, but I’m here because I agree with Ms. Connor. This entire situation was ugly from the start. If you’ll let me, I’d like to help you set the record straight. Beginning with that proposal I interrupted yesterday.” She glanced at Rylee’s left hand. “I don’t see a ring.”