“Ah!” He grabbed at the back of his head.
“Coop?” Ella bent to help him. “What happened? What are you doing here? Bradley said you weren’t coming this weekend. Have you been drinking?”
“For God’s sake, Cind—” He hesitated. “One question at a time. And, no, my neck’s not broken. Thanks for your concern.”
“I came down here to check the furnace,” Ella explained. “The heat isn’t working.”
“Probably because the thermostat wasn’t turned on. I checked it as soon as I walked in.”
“Oh.” Ella bit her lip, her cheeks burning even in the cold basement. Checking the thermostat hadn’t even occurred to her.
Still grabbing at the back of his head, his eyes closed. “Jesus, that hurt.”
“What happened?”
He looked at her through one half-opened eye. It dipped to her chest. “Uh, you took me by surprise, that’s all.”
She pulled the afghan up as much as possible. “Bradley said you wouldn’t be here this weekend.”
“When I saw how much snow Red River was getting, I came to go snowboarding.”
“You could’ve called.” She tried to adjust the afghan again.
“I did. Bradley was on his way back to Albuquerque and thought it was a good idea I come up tonight so you wouldn’t be alone.”
His furious stare raked over her, and a glint of something new dawned there. Something different, softer. Coop’s glower faded, his sensual hazel eyes anchored to her mouth, and the sexy De Niroesque mole under his eye twitched. Instead of recoiling, her tongue traced her bottom lip as she took in his tousled caramel hair that always looked as though a woman had run passionate fingers through it. His breath hitched, and lust flared in his eyes, turning them a dark shade of green.
Then, Ella did the unthinkable.
She lowered her head and kissed her boyfriend’s best friend.
His reaction was instantaneous. Lips warm and ready, he took control of the kiss and pulled her against him. His padded snow jacket cushioned her breasts, and she melted into him as he encircled her in his arms. One of his hands drifted down her back, flexing and caressing until it cupped her bottom. The other threaded through her hair. Pressing her into him, he deepened the kiss.
He tasted earthy and intoxicatingly male. He explored her mouth with his tongue, and she followed his every stroke. In spite of the freezing basement, the air around them sizzled with need. She settled against him with a soft moan, and he pulled her hips into his, his rock-hard groin confirming his desire. His fingers pulled at the blanket, tugging it upward. A shiver raced up her legs as, inch by inch, he bared her to the cool night air and to his warm, searching hand. When his palm settled over her bare bottom and caressed, a low growl came from somewhere deep inside him, and his kiss became primal and urgent. His grip on her was firm, like he didn’t want to let her go. And for an instant, she didn’t want him to, either. Her brain clouded, a sensuous moan escaped from the back of her throat, and it startled her.
That was her, right? The room spun around her, and she fought to regain lucidity.
Frick. It was her.
She pushed herself off him.
“No! I can’t.” Her shaky hands fumbled with the blanket that had slipped dangerously low.
Coop’s scowl returned, and he pulled himself off the basement floor.
“I’m sorry.” Ella looked at the cinder block walls, the wood beams that ran across the ceiling in perfect increments, anything to avoid Coop’s stare. She eyed the stairs, wanting to make a run for it, but Coop stood in between her and the only escape route.
“Can we . . . pretend this never happened? Please.”
He analyzed her for a moment, conflicting emotions playing across his face. None of them looked positive.
“I wouldn’t want to hurt Bradley. Especially over something foolish that didn’t mean anything,” Ella plowed on.
Coop gave a slow nod. “Right. It was just one of many kisses I’ve had this week. It wasn’t even that good.”
His tone had turned retaliatory, and Ella couldn’t blame him. She had initiated the kiss, not him.
He certainly hadn’t tried to stop her, though. How far would it have gone if she hadn’t pulled away? And could she trust him to keep it quiet? Maybe she should tell Bradley herself. But that would cut him deeply—his best friend and his girlfriend fooling around when he wasn’t looking. And he actually had thought it was a good idea for Coop to be looking out for her while he was gone.
She was an idiot. A two-timing, traitorous idiot.
“I need to go upstairs.” She gave him a pointed look.
He stayed rooted in place for several long, torturous moments. The furnace kicked on, drowning out the deafening silence. Finally, he stepped to the side, waving her through with a bow. Mocking her.
She darted up the stairs and into Bradley’s room, slamming the door in her wake.
Tucked safely into her room, she put on one of Bradley’s T-shirts and dug a pair of lace panties out of her suitcase. The black pair that drove Bradley crazy with desire. Pulling a handful of the shirt to her nose, she inhaled his scent and rubbed the soft cotton across one cheek. She loved sleeping in his shirts. It was so intimate, like a security blanket or a shield of protection.
Then she paced the floor. How could she have done such a thing? She had just humiliated herself and betrayed Bradley. And with his chauvinistic, philandering best friend, no less.
The lavender hue of twilight filled the window by the time Ella finally dried her eyes and climbed under the covers. She drifted into that fitful limbo between wakefulness and sleep with Bradley’s scent comforting her and Coop’s taste tormenting her. A few hours later, Bradley slid into bed, wrapping her in his warmth. She snuggled into him and buried her face in his chest.
“I missed you,” she whispered. “I don’t like it when we’re apart.”
“Good, because I kept wondering something during the drive back up here.” He kissed her, tender and sweet. “Maybe we shouldn’t be apart.” He caressed the tip of her nose with his. “Will you marry me?”
“I love you, Bradley.” Her voice quivered. The memory of how her body had responded to Coop’s scorching touch and steamy kiss just a few hours ago haunted her. Her eyelids slid shut, and she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
Bradley let out a shaky laugh. “Whew. There for a second I thought you were going to say no.”
Ella shook her head. “I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I love you.” A tear slipped down the side of her cheek.
“I love you, too, babe.” He trailed kisses from her ear to her mouth. “Now, where were we?” When his hand found the small swatch of lace around her hips, he moaned. “Oh, yeah. That’s where we were.”
Ella swallowed. “Coop might hear us.”
Bradley tucked one hand between the lace and her skin. “Coop left early this morning. There was a note on the counter. Something came up in Albuquerque.”
“Oh,” she squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face against Bradley’s neck.
He rolled her onto her back and covered her. “At least he stayed the night. It made me feel better about leaving you.”
They spent the rest of the weekend at the cabin alone. Bradley fished in the stream out back while Ella looked on, bundled in several layers of down. They had a snowball fight, trekked to a meadow to take pictures of a herd of elk, and made sweet love every night. But Ella never visited the cabin again after that. Even after they got married, she encouraged Bradley to go without her. Claiming she didn’t like the small-town culture, Ella stayed behind when Bradley wanted to go to Red River. It was a good chance for him to spend time with Coop and do guy stuff, she’d say.
Bradley accepted her excuses, but she knew he always wondered why. He guessed she was
holding something back. He just never knew that something was the betrayal of his future wife with his best friend.
Chapter Eight
Ella shuffled through the well-worn clothes hanging in her closet. She really needed to go shopping. An updated wardrobe hadn’t been a top priority the past several years, and she certainly hadn’t been dancing since before Bradley was diagnosed.
According to Brianna, cowboy boots were in order for tonight’s dance, so she pulled her black buffalo calfskin Luccheses from the back of her closet. They weren’t for traipsing through cow dung on the ranch; these babies were for scooting across a dance floor in style. She ran her fingers across the hand stitching. It had been a long time. Her dance steps were probably more than a little rusty, but hey, wasn’t it like riding a bike?
She dabbed on a little makeup, hoping the ancient tubes of goop weren’t expired and breeding some sort of skin-eating bacteria. New makeup was probably in order, too. She picked up a tube of mascara. At least she thought it was mascara. Hard to tell, since it was so old the label had rubbed off. Twisting off the cap, she withdrew the wand, and a dry black clump of tar came out.
Ick. No way was she putting that on her face.
Ella tossed it in the trash and then put on a white gauzy sundress. The night air was cold year-round in Red River, so she added a jean jacket. The last touch was a pair of gold hoop earrings, a small dainty necklace, and her wedding ring. After sliding it onto her finger, she held up her hand to look at it.
It was a beautiful piece of bling. Bradley had insisted on buying her a nice-size engagement ring and a band of diamonds to match. Soon she’d have to take it off permanently. Definitely before she left Red River. She sighed. But not tonight. Not yet.
Actually, she didn’t plan to stay at the dance that long. A little time out of the cabin would be nice. Then she’d head home to work on her third book, Rio Grande Romp. She only had a few chapters left to write, and since Wanton Publishing had it on a crash schedule for earlier release, she needed to finish it in the next few days. Cyn Caldwell would probably be calling soon, also insisting on the excerpt for book four.
A wave of panic swept through her. She’d outlined book four but hadn’t even started writing it yet. How on earth was she going to come up with an excerpt? She blew out a heavy breath. She’d have to think of something. Soon.
Her new career and its demands were all so daring, so breaking-the-rules.
So totally not like her.
That’s what made it so exciting. She’d never lived life on the edge. The biggest risk she’d ever taken had been applying to grad school at UNM without her parents’ knowledge and moving to Albuquerque with student housing and an on-campus job already lined up. And that had scared the hell out of her. She hadn’t been sure she made the right decision until she met Bradley.
Now, it seemed her life consisted only of unexpected twists and turns and surprises around every corner. She had no plan, beyond spending the summer in Red River. Just the here and now, and the future would work itself out somehow.
Ella snatched a comb and a hair band from the dresser and tried to pull her overgrown hair into a fashionable knot.
Financially, she could afford to take risks. Emotionally? Completely different story. How could she move forward without Bradley? He’d been her security blanket. Without him, every step was like walking a tightrope with nothing below to catch her if she fell. And loving another man besides him? That terrified her.
With a frustrated sigh, she gave up on her hair and let it tumble loosely around her shoulders.
Maybe instead of running out of the dance tonight, she’d stay and try to have a good time. Meet new people. Have a drink and enjoy dancing. Fun hadn’t been on her agenda in a long while.
Fidgeting with her ring, she slid it off her finger and studied it.
The past two years, her friends in Albuquerque coaxed her out to dinner or a movie once in a while just to get her out of the house. But she’d refused to go dancing. The idea of facing the singles scene shook her already battered sense of security.
Maybe it was time. She’d come here in the first place to let go of Bradley and move on as a single woman. A confident single woman, right? A few friendly dances in this little town wouldn’t be the same meat-market atmosphere as the bars in a big city. It might be a good start.
She drew in a breath, and slid the ring back on her finger.
One step at a time. Dancing and fun tonight. Taking Bradley’s ring off forever . . . she still wasn’t sure when, but not yet.
Ella stared at her reflection in the mirror. She certainly wouldn’t be the belle of the ball. A trip to the salon wouldn’t hurt. She’d make an appointment with Brianna soon. For tonight, though, there wasn’t much she could do to improve her appearance.
“What do you think, guys?” She struck a pose for the two dogs that snuggled in the corner on top of a fuzzy blanket. Winston broke wind and rolled onto his side, a loud wheeze sounding through his flattened snout. Atlas snuggled closer to him.
“That good, huh?” Ella’s shoulders sagged.
Grabbing a tube of pink lip gloss, she swiped the wand over her lips, then twirled in front of the mirror. This was as good as it got for tonight, anyway. And really, whom did she need to impress? Nobody.
“See ya, boys. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She stared at the snoring dogs.
Ella slung her purse over one shoulder and walked into the kitchen. The T-shirt Coop had loaned her the first night she arrived still sat on the counter, laundered and folded into a perfect square. He hadn’t bothered to put it away. Ella ran her hand over the soft cotton.
If she didn’t care to impress anyone tonight, then why was she wondering about Coop?
Blowing out a frustrated breath, Ella slammed the door behind her and peeled out of the drive, headed to town.
Coop shoved the tap handles back and tried to pretend Ella wasn’t in the room. Kind of hard, since she’d fixed herself up so nicely and scooted past him every dance with a smile on her face so broad it lit the room. Light makeup emphasized her sculpted cheekbones, deep green eyes, and full lips. Tiny little strings that knotted into a bow over each shoulder had him guessing she wasn’t wearing a bra.
When Ross dropped her into a dip and she came up laughing, the nice bounce of her chest confirmed Coop’s guess, and his teeth ground together. He tried to shake it off and concentrate on the streams of beer that trickled to a stop.
She looked good. That feminine dress was way different than her usual faded jeans and running shorts. The transformation drew his attention every time she moved.
Coop ran a hand through his hair and focused on the two old buzzards in front of him. Butch and his buddy Orland sat at the bar, each drinking a beer. Friends since his dad came to Red River on vacation twenty years ago and hired Orland as a fly-fishing guide, they were inseparable. Coop plunked full mugs down in front of them. They clinked them together, making another obnoxious toast. Coop shook his head and wiped his hands on a towel. He’d be driving the both of them home tonight.
The annual Firefighters’ Charity Dance had drawn a big crowd. Anything sponsored by the fire department usually did, since northern New Mexico was so heavily forested, and the local economy could die out completely from one stray spark from a campfire or a careless flick of a cigarette butt. Every table full, and C and W dancers working up a sweat, Coop and Dylan kept the drink orders flowing, but Coop’s irritation grew every time he heard Ella’s throaty laughter drift in his direction. His jaw clenched a little tighter every time Ross turned her on the dance floor and her white dress drifted upward to reveal slender legs.
“Hi, Coop.” Sandra Edwards appeared in front of him. She propped her elbows on the bar and leaned over, offering him a nice view of her considerable cleavage. Her voice purred like a seductive kitten. “Buy a gal a beer?”
Co
op averted his eyes. “No can do. It’s for charity, so everybody’s responsible for their own tab.” And I’m supposed to stay away from women like you. Women in general, actually. Coop frowned and glanced in Ella’s direction.
Sandra’s bottom lip puckered, and she dipped her shoulders lower so that her buxom chest poured out of a skimpy top.
Coop didn’t take the bait. He had to get rid of her. He’d heard stories. Of course, he couldn’t believe everything he heard; he’d learned that very painful lesson because of Kim Arrington. Being the victim of malicious gossip made a person think twice before listening to rumors. But the way Sandra constantly cornered him like a cat pawing at a mouse, he had to believe there was some truth to her sexual notoriety. And that meant trouble for him, with a capital T.
“Sandra, Doc Holloway hasn’t danced all night.” Coop waved his hand towel toward Red River’s young and eligible medical doctor sitting on the far side of the room. “If anyone can coax him onto the dance floor, it’s you.”
She looked over at Dr. Blake Holloway, and her smile turned predatory.
Guilt washed through Coop for throwing the good doctor under the bus to save himself.
Sandra stood up straight and pushed out her chest. “See ya later, then.” She winked at Coop and set off for her new target.
Poor man. Doc was a nice guy. Coop would have to make it up to him somehow.
Another fast two-step started, and the dance floor filled. Ross led Ella into a turn like a master. She could dance, that was for sure, and irritatingly enough, it turned him on as much as the teasing glimpses of her firm thighs.
They maneuvered past him, and her laugh evoked a pull in his chest. She was having a little too much fun, in Coop’s opinion. After just two drinks—because yes, he’d been counting—she’d gotten loud and flirty. Ross was a nice guy, but he was a guy. His attraction to Ella was obvious, and with her inhibitions dropping like a rock, Ross might get the wrong impression. And the thought of Ella doing anything with Ross beyond dancing rubbed Coop the wrong way. The fact that it bothered him so much chafed him even more. Ella Dennings wasn’t his problem.
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