by JoAnn Durgin
He nodded, but remained uncharacteristically quiet. Putting away the magazine, she stole a peek at the photo and wondered where Landon was and what he might be doing.
Shoving aside that line of thinking, she took in their surroundings. “Are we really staying here tonight, Cooper?”
“Yep. If you were hoping to wake up and find different circumstances, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“That wasn’t disappointment speaking,” she said.
Silence greeted her for a long moment. “Why don’t we see what Mr. Lewis has to say about a situation like this.” Grabbing the book from his suitcase, Cooper made a big show of opening it to the table of contents.
Amy stared. “Where . . . where did you get that? Sam’s book hasn’t been released yet.”
“It’s an ARC copy, and a perk of being one of Kevin’s groomsmen. I’d say it’s perfect for the single man as well as a married one. Lots of great tips,” —he grinned—“for how to win a woman and keep her happy. Judging by Sam and his TeamWork crew, I’d say he’s an authority on the subject and eminently qualified to write this book.” Running his finger down the page, Cooper shook his head. “As I suspected, there’s not one chapter about what to do when you’re stranded in a fleabag motel in Texas, no car, it’s freezing outside, we’re hungry and the very real potential for an axe murderer in the next room.”
Amy smirked. “Don’t remind me. So, based on what you know of Sam, what do you suggest his advice would be for a situation like ours?”
He quirked a brow. “Define ‘situation like ours.’”
She lifted her chin. “One man, one woman, unmarried, both Christians with no choice but to spend the night together in the same room.”
He closed the book with a definitive snap and sent it back to its place with a well-aimed toss. “I was going to suggest calling Sam. Knowing what I do of the man, he probably has friends in every corner of Texas—if not the globe—ready and waiting to come to the rescue of one of his TeamWork maidens.”
Her hands found her hips. “TeamWork maidens? And why would I need rescuing?”
“You’re a proud, card-carrying member of TeamWork, are you not?”
She swallowed hard and resisted the temptation to step backward. She raised her eyes to meet his and steeled herself not to melt. “Sure am. But I don’t need rescuing.”
“You’re most definitely a maiden, though. I know it’s an old-fashioned term, but you’re an old-fashioned girl, aren’t you, Amy?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You make it sound like a bad thing.”
“I’m sorry.” Stepping back, Cooper ran a hand through his hair. “Trust me, it’s a very good thing. I’m not handling this very well. I’m the one who needs rescuing—from my own thoughts, I’m afraid.” He lowered his hand and gave her a sheepish look. “Being completely honest here? At this particular moment, I’m wishing you weren’t so old-fashioned.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he raised his hands. “But I’m also thanking God you are.”
For a moment, she couldn’t speak before recovering her voice. “Okay, let’s agree we won’t suggest this to Sam for his next book. And don’t think about holding this little situation over my head. I cannot be blackmailed.” Her smile escaped as she wagged her finger in his face, an action she could tell annoyed him. “It’s one of the unwritten TeamWork credos. Come on. Let’s get on with it. Um,” she stammered, knowing her cheeks must be flaming, “I mean time to . . . do something. I realize how that sounded, but you know what I mean. Something about you makes me lose my senses sometimes and I become completely inarticulate.” Admitting it was worse.
His eyes never leaving hers, Cooper took one slow step in her direction, then another, and then one more until he was standing in front of her.
Amy stood her ground though barely a hand’s length separated them. His nearness did things to her. Unsettling things. Warmed her all over, up and down the length of her and then some. “I’ll call for a cot when we get back here after dinner,” she said.
“Humor me. Supposing it was a chapter in Sam’s book, what would the next chapter be titled, Miss Irresistible?” When she gave him a blank look, still flustered, he chuckled.
“How about ‘Don’t Call Me Miss Irresistible’? That one’s a guaranteed mood killer.”
“Then be prepared to hear it all night, sweetheart.”
She ignored that comment. “Did you find out where we can get something to eat around here? Please tell me there’s a restaurant, diner, pizza joint, donut hut?”
“Yeah, there’s a place. Grab my jacket and let’s go. We only have to walk about a half mile.”
That stopped her cold. “Are you serious?”
“A half mile’s not that far. Why? Is walking a problem for you?”
“I didn’t wear my walking shoes, that’s all.”
“You didn’t bring tennis shoes with you?”
She frowned. “It’s not like I expected to go to the gym on this whirlwind trip. I have work pumps—heels,” she added, noting his skeptical glance, “the strappy sandals I wore in the wedding and the boots I’m wearing.”
His gaze traveled to her feet. “I see what you mean. Okay, tell you what. You stay put, and I’ll go get us some food and bring it back. We can have a late supper here and watch something on our big TV. A real slumber party,” he said with a chuckle. “Sounds like fun. Are you game?”
“No, no. I’ll go with you. It would weigh on my conscience for you to be out there walking all by yourself.”
“Why, Amy, are you feeling protective of me?” Reaching for his cowboy hat, Cooper smoothed his hair and anchored the Stetson, running his fingers along the front rim.
“Not really. It’s more the need to ward off amorous armadillos and jail-bait waitresses. Besides, I’m not sure I want to be left here alone in this so-called motel.” She caught his look. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I didn’t.” Grabbing his jacket, Cooper draped it around her.
“This is getting to be a habit with you,” she said.
“You love it.”
“Didn’t say I didn’t.” She glanced down at her sweater and frowned. “Let me change real quick. This sweater is a mess and I’m wearing more of Tam’s makeup than she is.”
Five minutes later, she emerged after changing into a pink blouse, combing her hair and brushing her teeth. She smiled at the look on Cooper’s face as she reemerged. “Ready to go?”
“You look very pretty. Can’t decide which color I like best on you, although I think blue and green are your best colors.”
“Thanks, I think,” she said as he helped her into his jacket again. “Blue’s my favorite color.”
“I know that.”
Interesting. “What’s yours?”
“I like most of them, but red’s a favorite.”
“Ah, the color of passion.” She stopped. Did I say that out loud?
He grunted. “Yes, exactly.”
After pushing her arms into the sleeves, she started to work the buttons. The shoulders drooped and it was hopelessly big. “I think it’s big enough for both of us. Want to share?” She gave him a grin she knew was more than a little flirtatious. Watch yourself.
“Hold on.” Going to his suitcase, he dug around inside. She watched in silence, wondering what he had in mind. With a triumphant expression, he pulled out a black leather belt. “Here. This should do the trick.” He wrapped it around her waist, pulling a little too tight. “Perfect. Entirely fetching.”
“Thanks,” she said, readjusting it, “but I don’t need a corset.”
“Yeah, that waist of yours is tiny. I wanna make sure you’re all snug and tucked in.”
“You’re pretty creative when you want to be, aren’t you? Wait,” she said, glimpsing the mischief in his eyes, “don’t answer that. It was a rhetorical statement. My stomach is rumbling, so it’s time to go find some food. The fair maiden needs the big he-man hunter to fetch her some vittles.” Her la
ugh escaped. “That’s one sentence I never thought I’d say.”
“My pleasure.” Linking his arm with hers, Cooper escorted her out the door. As they walked, he put one arm about her, drawing her close. Not long after, he started to remove his arm. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take liberties.”
Amy grabbed his hand, keeping it anchored on her shoulder. “You’re not. I was the one who offered to share your jacket. This is the next best thing. Besides, I’d never forgive myself if you caught a bad cold or worse.” She tried to match his long stride but couldn’t keep up, so he slowed to keep pace with her. “Tell me where we’re going.”
“It’s called Scully’s. The night desk clerk recommends the grill special.”
“What’s that? Considering where we are, maybe I don’t want to know?”
“We’re safe. Big old Texas cheeseburgers with French fries. All the adventure today has worked up my appetite and a burger sounds great. You?” His smile reached his eyes, and she felt another little piece of her heart floating toward him.
Chapter 26
Digging into burgers at Scully’s, Cooper gave a thumbs-up. “You have to admit, this is a lot more adventurous than sitting in a hotel restaurant in Austin. Although that’s probably exactly what we’ll be doing tomorrow night provided we ever make it there.”
“If you’re there, it won’t be boring. You’re anything but stuffy.”
Before they started eating, he’d asked grace. His prayer sounded as heartfelt as Landon’s in the coffee shop on that night that suddenly seemed so long ago. Stop it! The comparisons between the two men were invading her thoughts with more regularity now, and it was enough to drive her crazy. Lord, why two of them?
Cooper raised a brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re softening up a bit toward me. That comment sounded suspiciously like a compliment. Next thing I know, you’re going to want to break the pact.”
She gave him a look. “I hardly think anyone who’s kissed you three times needs any more softening up.” Covering her embarrassment, she took a big bite of her burger. He must think her a glutton, but the food was so delicious she didn’t care. “I can’t believe how good this tastes. I think it’s the best cheeseburger I’ve ever had.” Using her pinky, she wiped away a dab of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth.
“I noticed you told them to hold the red onion.” He laughed when she tossed her balled-up napkin at him. Should she point out he’d also removed the onion and put it on the side of his plate? They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. “You’re right. This tastes great. I was more hungry than I realized.”
“It doesn’t seem like the wedding was last night,” Amy said. “Seems more like a lifetime ago, doesn’t it?” Glancing around the small establishment, she grinned at the sight of the cactus in a corner strung with oversized, multi-colored Christmas bulbs shaped like jalapeños and armadillos. A jazzy version of “Jingle Bell Rock” played on the jukebox, and she tapped her foot under the table, noticing Cooper did the same. He’d done the dip and twirl thing with his fries and guzzled Dr. Pepper like it was endangered.
“Is that your way of saying you feel like we’ve known each other a lot longer?” For once, his tone didn’t tease, but he moved his boot over hers and tapped it lightly, maintaining the rhythm of the music without missing a beat.
She snapped back to attention. “I suppose so.”
“I agree. Not to change the subject, but care to share how you discovered you wanted to be a writer? I’m sure that’s a good story.”
Wiping her mouth with her napkin, she took a long swig of her half-Coke, half-Diet Coke. “Third grade. Mrs. Poppycock’s class, and yes, that was her real name. At the beginning of the school year, she asked us to write an essay about our favorite summer memory.”
Cooper pushed his empty plate to the middle of the table. Leaning his chin on one hand, he paused to thank the waitress for refilling his glass and then gave her his undivided attention.
“My essay was about making friends at summer camp with a girl named Hillary.” She hesitated, and an unexpected wave of emotion swept through her.
“You don’t have to tell me if it’s upsetting.” Cooper’s voice was low and soothing.
“It’s fine. I haven’t thought about it for a long time. Hillary grew up in London and Paris and had already traveled more of the world than any other kid I’d ever known.”
“Were her parents diplomats?”
“No, but that’s what I thought at first, too. Hillary was different than the other kids. She was quiet, and because of it, not many of the others tried to get to know her. But I found her to be exotic and hilarious. She had a great sense of humor, a maturity and a wisdom about her. Hillary enjoyed reading and writing as much as I did, and we bonded over our mutual love of Louisa May Alcott’s books. We both loved Little Women, especially, because Jo was a writer. One day at the camp, I wandered off the pathway on a nature hike and ventured into the woods alone. To this day, I don’t know how she did it, but Hillary found me—shivering, cold, hungry and more than a little humiliated—two hours later. In the cabin later that same night, she was in the bunk bed across from me, and she said, ‘You know when you were in the woods today? You weren’t alone. God was with you the whole time. I was only telling you what He whispered in my heart. He’s always there.’”
Cooper started to say something, then stopped. “Sounds like a very special friendship,” he finally said.
Tears stung the back of Amy’s eyes as he captured her hand in his. She stared at their joined hands a moment, comforted by his warmth and obvious compassion. “It was.” A tear slid down her cheek. Slipping her hand from his, she dabbed the moisture from beneath her eyes with her napkin. “About a month after the camp ended, I found out the reason she was so well-traveled. She had a rare form of cancer and needed to go to those countries to try out new experimental procedures and drugs.” Her shuddering breath escaped. “My lovely friend died six months later. Her parents mailed a sweet note to me along with a first edition of Little Women they’d bought for Hillary’s ninth birthday, her last one as it turned out. They said she wanted me to have it. I’ll treasure it always.”
Taking her hand again, he brushed his thumb over it in a gentle, sweeping motion. “What a great memory, although I know it’s bittersweet. I’m thankful you had a chance to know Hillary, and I’m sure she felt the same way about you.”
She appreciated his sensitivity and the kindness she glimpsed in his eyes. “When we said good-bye that last day at camp, she encouraged me to follow my dreams of being a writer. I remember she said, ‘God gives us only so many days to touch somebody’s life in a special way, so we need to make them count.’” Her eyes welled again. “Of course, I had no idea she’d be gone within a few months. Maybe I should have known something was up since she talked about Heaven a lot. Some of the other kids thought she was morbid about it, but being a pastor’s daughter, I didn’t think it was strange. She sat out a lot of the games and activities, but I thought it was because of a sensitive stomach.”
Taking another deep breath, Amy melted into Cooper’s compassion. “Do you know how rare it is to form an instant bond with someone that impacts the rest of your life?” Understanding how much the sentiment also applied to the man sitting across from her, she lowered her gaze. “Hillary was one of those people. Like Mitch, I got mad at God for a while and railed at Him for stealing away such a great person, but then I started thinking about what Hillary told me. In part, that’s one reason I try to help runaway dogs and misguided teenage girls and anyone else God puts in my path.”
The jukebox started, and a slow country ballad began. “Dance with me, Amy.” Standing, Cooper held out his hand.
After only a moment’s hesitation, she slid off the chair. Putting her hand in his, she followed as he led the way to a small area cleared as a dance floor. An older couple danced nearby, not speaking, barely moving. The way the man held her in his arms, the way the woman laid
her hand on the side of his face, spoke more than words ever could. Cooper’s sentiment from the night before was right. Sometimes words weren’t necessary. Sometimes being there for someone else was all that was needed. A kiss, a touch, a whisper. Her eyes misted. Why am I so emotional?
Cooper wiped away another tear she hadn’t realized escaped. Pressing his lips to her cheek, he rested his head against hers. “I hope I don’t make you cry.”
“You don’t.” She gave him a wan smile. “You’re wonderful.”
“Come here.” Slipping one hand around her waist, he clasped her free hand with the other.
Without hesitation, Amy leaned into his embrace, her head resting on his firm chest. She heard—and felt—the strong rhythm of his heartbeat through his cotton shirt and moved her hand over his heart. When she felt him stiffen, she was filled with immediate regret. It was too personal, too intimate a gesture and she shouldn’t have done it. Embarrassed, she started to withdraw her hand.
Clutching her fingers, Cooper stilled them, holding them against his chest. “You’re touching my heart, Amy.”
“Sorry about that.”
“I’m not. Keep doing it and don’t ever stop.”
Cooper’s hand tightened around her waist as they danced. Closing her eyes, Amy relinquished everything to the moment and pushed aside all the thoughts cluttering her mind. For once in her life, she wanted to enjoy the moment without overthinking it. This night was perfect—the romantic music, the mood, and especially the man holding her in his arms.
When the music stopped, he led her back to their table. “Would you like some dessert?”
“Not really. You?”
“If I gave you my honest answer, I’d send you running all the way back to New York. How about I order us a piece of pie and we can take it back and share it later as a midnight snack?”
The way he looked at her, she couldn’t refuse. While he went to the bar and settled the tab, Amy glanced around the small place, noting a few other scattered patrons. It was almost scary how he preoccupied her to the point where she only had eyes for him, oblivious to all else.