by T. M. Cromer
Instead of inflicting a wound, the beautiful black bird ducked its head for the touch.
Coop smoothed the feathers in a downward direction. The sooty feathers around its neck puffed as the bird gurgled and released another call.
“Aren’t you a gorgeous beastie?” Coop murmured.
The bird nodded as if in agreement with Coop’s assessment of him.
And as he bonded with the raven, he had a better understanding of why Summer loved her misfits. The awe that came with the gained trust of a wild animal was a heady sensation.
“Thank you for helping me understand,” he told the bird.
The raven once again nodded and spread its wings. Two flaps to gain purchase, and the bird took flight.
Coop shook his head in wonder. He must’ve lost his mind. Here he was, talking to the animals. Everyone would believe he was as looney tunes as Summer.
“Now you know why she does it.”
The soft voice at the entrance of the barn grabbed his attention.
Spring Thorne.
Easily one of the loveliest women in Tennessee. With her hair the color of the Earth’s richest soil, and her eyes the color of the Emerald Isle’s lush fields, she lived up to her name. Spring wore no makeup. She didn’t need to. She sported a peaches and cream complexion, with smooth, unblemished skin.
As he stared, a becoming pale pink blush found its way to her cheeks, enhancing her beauty. Yet in spite of her gorgeousness, he felt no desire for her. Not in the way he’d discovered he now felt for her sister.
“Now I know.”
“She’s not into Knox, ya know.”
“Excuse me?”
“Summer. I know it looked damning before, but she’s not into him.”
“Has she told you this?”
A secretive smile lit her face. “She didn’t need to. I know.”
Oh-kay. Whatever that meant.
Because she’d paused like she required an answer, he nodded.
Spring strolled farther into the barn. Stopping alongside him, she gestured to the raven back on its perch in the darkened corner of the barn rafters. “I see you’ve meet Mr. Black. Or as we affectionately call him, Blackie.”
“I have. He formally introduced himself a few minutes before you arrived.”
She giggled, and damned if the sound didn’t remind him of young females running through a field of violet and yellow flowers on a cool spring morning. The sound was pure joy.
“Why are you here, Coop?”
Because he couldn’t explain the sudden desire that overtook him to discover more about Summer’s life, even to himself, he shrugged. “The simple reason?”
She nodded.
“Look, I know she believes she’s doing a great thing here, and she is. But even though the town believes her safety measures are enough, I still think differently.” He shot her an imploring look. “Spring, her more wild friends are dangerous, whether any of you care to acknowledge it or not. My end goal is to make sure everyone is safe, your sisters included.”
Disappointment and some other undefined emotion flashed in her eyes.
Had he said the wrong thing? What had she been hoping he would say?
“You’re wasting your time trying to persuade her to get rid of any of her rescues.”
“I’m finding that out,” he replied dryly. From nowhere, the urge arose to make at least one of the Thornes see his side. “I’m not the bad guy here, Spring. I’m really not. But the elephant and the chimp are meant to be in the wild. They aren’t house pets like dogs and cats. Morty especially is dangerous. I’ve seen him twice, and both times he’s had a weapon that could crack Summer’s head like a walnut.”
“He’d never attack her.”
Coop threw up his hands and growled. “How can I get through to any of you?” Hands on hips, he shifted to stare up into the rafters. He’d have better luck reasoning with Mr. Black. He sighed and faced her again. “Even if Morty would never attack her, it isn’t to say he wouldn’t attack you, Autumn, or Winnie.”
“Me or Winnie. But no, he wouldn’t do that either.”
Curiosity got the better of him. “Why wouldn’t he attack Autumn?”
“She’s gone.”
“That’s right. Keaton mentioned it to me earlier. Want to tell me what happened?”
Spring’s tear-bright eyes were luminous. “The day of the great fainting goat escapade, she decided it was time to go.”
“Why?”
“That’s her story to tell.”
“According to you, she’s not here to tell it. What happened, Spring?”
She glanced over her shoulder as if she worried about being overheard.
“It’s probably not a state secret,” he said dryly.
Amusement lit her eyes and a smile twisted her lips, then she became serious once again. “Keaton came here, yelling about his truck. He said she owed his daughter an apology and then added a few incredibly hurtful things. After that, she said she needed a change of scenery.”
Well, shit on a stick! No wonder Keaton had been a feral beast this last week. “I’m sorry if his accusations were the reason she left.”
“To be honest, we’ve all thought about relocating.”
“All?” His gut clenched at the idea of Summer leaving, and he rubbed his hand across the planes of his stomach.
“Yeah. Somewhere we won’t be known as the Weird Season Sisters.” She shrugged as if to dismiss the hurtfulness of the name. “Summer’s Sanctuary can be moved to any out of the way spot. Winnie’s internet business won’t take a hit. And me? I can open a florist shop anywhere. My flowers are award winning.”
“But a Thorne has lived on this land for over two-hundred years.” Christ, he sounded like an idiot. As if that little fact, which they all well knew, was going to stop their migration to another county or state.
“We won’t sell. Dad still needs a home base, and the family cemetery is here. But we can all have a fresh start somewhere else.”
“No.”
Her brows shot up and her mouth opened with wonder. “No?”
“Yeah, no. There’s no need for any of you to leave. If someone’s giving you a hard time, I’ll take care of it.”
Spring’s expression softened. “You’ve turned out to be a good man, Cooper Carlyle.”
“Right. If he’s so great, then why is he trying to shut down my rescue?” Summer stepped into the aisle, arms crossed and stubborn expression in place. She appeared angrier than when she left with Morty thirty minutes ago.
He could feel his own anger building. “I’m not. But a better place for Eddie and Morty would be a zoo with trained animal handlers.” He moved to stand in front of her. “You are being deliberately obtuse about this.”
“Uh oh,” Spring muttered. “Now you’ve done it.”
“Obtuse? Obtuse?” Summer seethed. “Oh, I’m the obtuse one?”
“I just said it, didn’t I?” he snapped.
Spring waved a hand between their faces. “If you two want to work out your anger issues, there’s a hay loft up those steps. I can promise you won’t be disturbed for an hour or so.”
The image of bending Summer over a hay bale hit fast and hard. The blood drained from the head on his shoulders and marched happily to his other head.
Neither of them could speak after Spring dropped her little sexual-encouragement bomb and left.
Summer took a step back and cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at him.
Suddenly, all he wanted was for her to see him. Not the jerk from high school. Not the sheriff, trying to take away her beloved animals. Him, the man.
“Summer.”
* * *
Her name, spoken in a husky whisper, caused Summer’s stomach to tighten. She didn’t dare look at Coop. Didn’t care to witness the knowing smirk on his face.
Why had her sister done that to her? Why put it out there that Summer was lusting after him?
Summer struggled to remember the topic at h
and… Morty! That was it.
Mouth drier than the Mojave Desert, she said, “The so-called professional animal handlers abused Morty. They tortured him in some form or another every day. He doesn’t tolerate being caged because they would stick a cattle prod through the bars to shock him. Being contained brings flashbacks for him.”
She ventured a peek in his direction. The heavy frown on his face and seriousness of his expression meant he finally heard what she was trying to relay. Or at least she hoped he had.
“Were they brought up on charges? At the… testing facility? Wasn’t that what you told me last week? That he’d been abused there?”
“You remembered,” she said, somewhat awed he cared enough to.
His light, teasing smile caused a rush of warmth to her private parts. “I remember everything about you, Summer Thorne.”
Her heart rate shot to an alarming pace in less than a second. “I prefer to forget,” she croaked.
Apology was written in every line of his rugged face. He shifted closer and wrapped an escaped curl around his index finger. “Is that why you want to leave town?”
Leave town? What the heck was he talking about? She never discussed leaving town. “Where did you hear that?”
“Spring said Autumn left because of Keaton, and that you all might relocate too.” His mesmerizing gaze searched her face. Those incredible eyes stopped on her lips and his lids dropped to half-mast. The hooded expression spoke of his intent to kiss her.
“Don’t.”
His gaze flew to hers.
“Don’t try to seduce me. It won’t work.” Right! It would so work. Was so working. Right now her lady bits were urging her toward disaster.
“It’s been eleven years, Summer. People change.”
“You humiliated me at the town meeting last week, Sheriff. Or have you forgotten?”
He growled his frustration and released her hair. “That wasn’t an exercise in humiliation, Summer. That chimp missed my brother’s head by less than a foot. He could’ve killed him.”
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, it was happening. You were in my backyard, and Morty was swinging at Keaton. What if it was my niece? What if Keaton had been a little more sluggish or less alert?”
Her anger dissipated. To a degree, he was correct, but he didn’t know her animals like she did. “Morty only ever postures. He’s never hurt another living being.” She took his hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
His hand tightened and his fingers wove into hers. “Are we shelving the topic and heading for the hay loft? Because I’m down with that.”
A laugh escaped. “No. You smell like the back end of a mule. It isn’t pleasant.”
“You’re saying if I shower, I stand a chance?”
She hated women who giggled, but she giggled at Coop’s flirting all the same. “I’m taking you to my office.”
“Now we’re talking. We’re going to role-play. I’m the big bad boss, and you’re my hot secretary.”
“If we were to role-play, I get to be the big bad boss, and you’re my administrative assistant. But we aren’t doing that either.”
“I dub thee Spoiler of Fun.”
She ducked her head and hid her grin.
Once they were in her office, she pushed him toward the desk. “Have a seat.”
“Ah, so this is more of a stripper-gram kind of thing.” His wicked grin lit up the room, but more importantly, it lit a fire inside her.
Shoving aside any thoughts of sex with Coop, she set a laptop in front of him.
“Or is it porn? I love how open-minded you are, sweetheart.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Coop. Now watch.”
She played the tapes she’d illegally obtained from White Laboratories where Morty had been imprisoned as a test subject. His treatment by the after-hours crew was horrific.
“I get that it was bad but—”
Summer placed a finger over his lips. Her eyes were drawn to the gesture, and she desperately wanted to caress the fullness beneath her fingertips.
When he nipped her, she gasped and pulled away. Heat rose across her chest and spread to her hairline. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “Watch this.”
The current recordings were of Morty adjusting to life at her sanctuary. She’d spliced together clips to document the changes in his behavior, leaving nothing out.
Initially, the chimpanzee had been aggressive, and while it couldn’t be seen, magic had been used to calm him. Less and less, the need for such tactics arose. Today was the first time she’d needed to freeze the chimp in nearly three months.
“I see him getting violent in these recordings, Summer.”
“No, Coop. You see him posturing. At the lab, he was violent, attempting to attack and maim. In the early days here, it wasn’t much different. But now, he stands up, beats his chest and swings a weapon, but he never gets close enough to strike.”
She rewound the recording and played it again. “Look, it’s like he’s laughing when he’s called on it. Immediately he puts his weapon down and reaches for reassurance that he’s loved. He’s no different than an abused kid readjusting to life without the abuse.”
“Except chimps are twice as strong.”
“He’s a good boy, Coop. I don’t know how to convince you he doesn’t mean to harm anyone.”
“Look, other than to argue my point, there’s nothing I can do until he injures someone. But I intend to keep a close watch on him.”
“I work with him every day. You can see by the tapes how far he’s come. I’m not naive. I know it will be constant care.” She sighed and shut the laptop. “I’d like to show you something else if you have time.”
Together they moved to the secondary section of the attic where a habitat had been made for Morty. Inside, they found him painting, a red beret perched on the side of his head in a decidedly French fashion.
“He loves painting. And he’s quite good, wouldn’t you say?” she laughed.
Morty’s head came around and the love for Summer was obvious. His happy expression quickly shifted to suspicion and anger. The paintbrush was thrown to the floor and hands moved in a rapid communication.
Summer knelt in front of the squatting ape and signed swiftly in return. “No, Morty. He’s not here to take you away.” She shook her head and signed again to the question the ape put to her. “No. You are staying with me. Forever.”
Morty shuffled closer to Summer and peered around her shoulder at Coop. The suspicion was still present, but the simmering anger was gone.
“Would you like to meet Coop, sweet boy?”
With a nod of his head, Morty clasped Summer’s outstretched hand. Together they ambled to where Coop stood.
“Introduce yourself, Morty. I can translate.”
The little ape presented as the perfect gentleman, even going so far as to bow and hold out a hand.
“May I have the pleasure of introducing, Sir Mortimer Von Chimpanzee.” She laughed when Morty drew back his lips in his version of a smile.
Coop surprised her when he gripped Morty’s hand and shook it. “How do you do, Sir Mortimer. I’m Cooper Carlyle. My friends call me C.C. or Coop.”
Her heart swelled.
Coop didn’t need to show kindness to Morty. He could choose to stay aloof and disapproving. Yet here he was exhibiting a softer side.
And didn’t that make her all gooey inside?
8
“Coop coming by again today?”
Summer glanced up from where she stood washing her breakfast dishes.
Spring had a wicked knowing look.
“I don’t know. I’m not his secretary.”
The second the words left her mouth, a fiery blush burned her cheeks.
“Oh, he is!”
“No, I… it was just something he said the first day he was here.”
“Don’t leave us hanging,” Winnie said over the rim of her mug.
/>
“You’re worse than two nosy old hens,” Summer scolded her laughing sisters.
“Things seem to be progressing between you,” Winnie observed.
“I think you’re reading things into the situation that aren’t there.” Goddess, she sounded like an uptight virgin at a rave.
Winnie’s smirk didn’t help.
“What?” Summer snapped as she dried her hands.
“Oh, I don’t know. Coop is arguably one of the hottest men in town, and he’s showed up for the last ten days to help you maintain the sanctuary. Yet here you are, acting as if you’re oblivious to his interest in you. We all know darned well you’re not.”
Summer’s eyes flew from Winnie to Spring and back. “Because he’s not. Interested in me, that is.”
And that was the kick in the pants, because since that first day, he hadn’t attempted to kiss her again.
He’d arrived every morning by six o’clock, coffee in hand, ready to tackle whatever chores she had for him to do. By eight he was heading home to shower and start his workday.
Two hours. For two hours every morning she would surreptitiously watch him pick stalls, feed her growing horde of rescues, and haul hay. As he bent, lifted, or hauled, she’d admire the trim lines of his backside. If her eyes lingered overly long on his ass, who was to know?
“Earth to Summer.”
She scowled and grabbed a muffin from the basket on the light stone countertop.
“She has it bad,” Spring teased.
“Has what bad?” Cooper’s voice startled all three women, but only Summer screamed and fumbled her muffin.
He laughed at her black look. “I knocked, but when no one answered, I let myself in. The coffeemaker at the house has given up the ghost.” He raised his empty travel mug. “I was hoping to steal a cup.”
Summer could feel his amused gaze as she scooped up the blueberry muffin from the floor. “Help yourself,” she offered with a wave of her hand.
She hadn’t thought through the logistics of him, her, and two others in the small kitchen.
As he inched by her, his hand hooked her hip. Full body contact ensued, his front to her back.
A strangled cry escaped her.
“Sorry,” he murmured in her ear. “Close quarters.”