Except that she was. On so many levels.
The hem of her white dress fluttered like tissue paper as Ross spun her under his arm. When she tossed her head back and laughed like a little girl on a merry-go-round, Coop’s fists clenched. The song ended and Ross pulled her close, dipping his head to whisper into Ella’s ear. Coop pulled the hand towel from his shoulder and tossed it on the bar. He threw up the hinged counter and started for the dance floor.
“Whoa there, partner.” Orland blocked Coop’s exit with one outstretched leg. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Coop glowered at his dad’s buddy. “You’re not me, and how do you know what I’m about to do?”
Orland chuckled and looked at Butch.
“It’s written all over your face, Cooper,” his dad said, before sucking down a quarter of the mug. Butch wiped a trickle of Budweiser off his chin. “You’ve been watching Ella ever since she walked in, and your face turns a deeper shade of red every time she dances with Ross.”
Coop grew indignant. “It does not.”
“Does too,” Orland slurred.
“You’re drunk,” Coop accused.
“And you’re an ass,” Orland countered.
“I’m taking your keys away if you order another drink.”
“You do that. Won’t change you being an ass.” Butch downed another quarter of the mug and burped.
“I was just going over to see if she’s okay. She’s not much of a drinker. How does that make me an ass?”
“Bull. You were going over to make a fool of yourself by butting into her business,” Butch said. “You’ve made it clear that you don’t want her around, so who she dances with, dates, or sleeps with isn’t any of your business.”
A vision of Ella naked with Ross made him bristle, and he cursed under his breath.
“You don’t get it both ways, son,” Butch said. “Trust me, I know.”
Coop blinked at his dad. Everyone tiptoed around Butch’s failed marriages, most of all, Butch himself. One could argue that Butch often lived with his head in the sand. Coop’s mom and all four stepmoms had certainly said so, often telling Butch that denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt. So his levelheadedness threw Coop for a second.
Before Coop could respond, an arsenal of cell phones went off around the dance hall. Several of the men retrieved theirs from their pockets. Fire Chief McCoy signaled to the DJ to shut down the music.
“There’s a fire out at Powder Puff. All fire department employees and volunteers who haven’t been drinking alcohol need to report to the fire station ASAP.”
The dance floor cleared, and half the men at the dance streamed toward the door. The tension in Coop’s jaw eased when Ross left with the other volunteers.
“I think I’ve had too much to drink, Orland,” Butch said with a belch. “How about you?”
Orland shook his head. “They’ll have to fight this one without me.”
“I’d call the sheriff and have you both arrested if you tried,” Coop promised.
Coop’s gaze followed Ella as she joined her group of friends at the table. Miranda, Joe’s best server, approached their table with her pad and pen and wrote down orders, then headed back to the bar.
“Another round of drinks for the Red River Reviewers.” She turned in their orders. “They’re discussing those erotic novels again.” She raised a silky black brow. “In detail. Brianna’s husband doesn’t mind, but Hank’s threatening to leave, and his face is as red as a tomato.” Coop handed her the drinks, and she stacked them onto the tray with steady precision. “Someone go rescue the poor guy before he strokes out.”
Miranda tossed her wavy black hair over one shoulder and returned to their table to deliver the drinks.
Coop put both fists on the bar and stared at the back of Ella’s tawny red hair, the light giving it the same color as a new copper penny. He leveled a glare at his dad and Orland. “I’m going over there, and if either of you old coots try to stop me, I’m cutting you off for the rest of the night.”
“Are you going to behave?” Butch asked.
“I’m not five, Dad.” Coop dried his hands and put the towel down.
“Then I’ll expect you to act like it, and be nice to Ella.”
Coop rolled his eyes and signaled to Dylan at the other end of the bar.
Dylan nodded back. “I’ve got this.”
Coop walked up behind Ella, and her words bit at him. “Sure I want to get married again. I want kids. I miss sex.” She giggled.
Donna saw Coop’s approach, and with a wicked smile, said, “Coop’s available, and you two share a house. Sounds convenient to me. Maybe you could have sex with him while you’re here for the summer.”
Ella let out a mocking laugh. “Please, he’s the last man on earth I’d sleep with. Not even if he begged.” The table fell silent. Donna paled a little at her joke that had gone seriously wrong. Ella babbled on, “I don’t understand what the ladies see in him. He’s overrated.”
Brianna made the “cut it” sign across her neck, but Ella kept on talking, completely oblivious.
Coop stepped up beside Ella’s chair, stance wide, arms folded over his chest. She didn’t notice and took another sip of her drink. Everyone at the table stared blankly at him except Ella. She was still immersed in her own alternate plane that revolved solely around herself.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’ve never had to beg for it.”
Ella choked, spewing Coke across the table. A little even came out of her nose, and Coop smirked. He gave the rest of the table a gratified smile. When Ella tucked her hair behind one ear with a quivering hand, Coop almost laughed. Her profile glowed bright red, almost matching the color of her hair, and she stared down into her drink, stirring it with the little red swizzle stick.
“Hey, cutie,” Donna said, changing the subject.
“Hey, yourself.” Coop winked. “Any of you ladies care to dance? I hear your husbands might need a break from the conversation.”
“They’ll just start up again when the dance is over,” groused Hank. “Ella here just lost her dance partner, though.”
Ella’s head shot up. “I’m done for the night.”
Oh, no, you’re not.
“You’re not ready to call it a night, are you, honey?” Donna nudged Ella. “Go on and make Coop’s night.”
Ella’s face turned a deeper crimson. “I, uh—”
Coop eased her out of the chair with a hand on her upper arm. “Great idea. We’ll see you later.” Coop pulled her onto the dance floor as Lady Antebellum’s “Just a Kiss” came on. He tugged her into his embrace and initiated a slow, sensual two-step. She followed his lead and melted into the song like she was born to dance with him.
“You don’t strike me as the two-stepping type,” Ella finally said.
“Why’s that?” Coop changed his angle to see if she’d follow. And she did. To perfection.
“You’re not exactly a cowboy.”
“Don’t have to be a cowboy in western boots to like country music.” Her green eyes darted around the room, never meeting his. “Besides, girls love a guy that can dance. It was incentive to learn.”
She let out a condescending snort.
He eased her a little closer and lowered his head to whisper against her ear. “Since you don’t find me in the least bit attractive, it’s safe to dance this close.” A miniscule shiver coursed over her, causing her to shimmy against him ever so slightly. She drew in a sharp breath. He suppressed the urge to do the same, the friction of her full breasts against his chest sending his mind reeling. With a steady smile, he pulled her even closer. “You won’t be tempted by my overrated charm.”
“I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were standing there.” She swallowed against his ear. “I don’t drink much, and I’ve had a couple. Did Bradley ever tell
you I don’t hold my alcohol very well?”
“He may have mentioned it.” Coop tried to sound bored. Bradley had mentioned it plenty, not that he needed to. Coop had witnessed firsthand the effect alcohol had on her when she and Bradley were dating. When she laid the sexiest kiss Coop had ever had on him while she was wrapped only in a blanket in the cabin’s basement. “I don’t really remember.”
“Well, I’m sorry.”
“So you said.”
“Can we just dance, please?” Her tone changed from remorse to annoyed in a nanosecond.
“Whatever you say, Ella.”
In a smooth, fluid movement, he molded her body to his and dropped one hand way south of her waistline. She let out a small gasp. His head dipped, and he rested his cheek against hers, angling his mouth so his breaths whispered across her ear. She shivered in his arms, making him tingle everywhere his body met hers. The feel of her pliant in his arms like putty, quivering under his touch, made him want . . .
He swallowed, choking back the gravel in his throat. Because God Almighty, he wanted to take her creamy earlobe between his teeth and nibble.
His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and he regrouped.
For one, he was taking a very long sabbatical from women. Part of his plan to stay out of trouble and, hopefully, out of jail. Second, this was Ella. Not only could he not sleep with his best friend’s widow, but he absolutely would not complicate their already absurdly complicated situation.
They shifted directions and her thigh slid between his for a second, brushing against the inside of his legs.
Wait. What was that last thing? Coop tried to refocus.
He let the music and the mood take them, and they traversed the dance floor like they had danced together forever. She melted perfectly into his embrace, matching him step for step. Ella’s skin pebbled under his touch when he ran his hand down the length of her upper arm. But she wasn’t cold. Her body grew hotter and more flushed against him with every intricate combination of steps, every turn and twirl. They expertly maneuvered around the few other couples still on the floor.
As the song lilted to its end, Coop took a step back from her, his hands still holding her hips. She looked up at him, her green eyes round as saucers. Deep pools that he could get lost in. Her lips parted, but she didn’t speak. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she swayed into him. Just like when he found her in the basement all those years ago, wearing nothing but a blanket.
He stepped away from her. “Thanks for the dance, Ella.” Turning, he nodded to the table of open-mouthed friends who had watched him dance Ella around the floor like they were making love to the music. He walked back to the bar, well aware that Ella’s hot gaze stayed anchored on his back.
Chapter Nine
“Thanks for being the designated driver. It’s really nice that you look out for your customers like that,” Ella said. When the truck hugged a wide curve, she grabbed for the dash.
“Are you going to be sick?” Coop asked.
“No, it’s just your truck rides a lot rougher than my Beamer. Why do you have such big tires, anyway? Is it a guy thing? I’ve heard the macho types compare the size of their trucks to the size of their . . . anatomy.” She’d seen the size of his package her first night at the cabin when he greeted her at the door sporting nothing but a baseball bat and a pair of fitted boxer briefs. Yeah, his package was way more impressive than the size of his truck.
Coop laughed. “I got these off-road tires put on because they come in handy up here when it rains or snows. You won’t find me stuck in a ditch during a storm.”
Smart aleck. She glanced at him, the illuminated dash casting a glow on his chiseled features. But he was an incredibly good-looking smart aleck, to be sure. She shook the thought from her mind.
“Speak of the devil.” He flicked on the wipers. “It’s starting to sprinkle.”
The rain pelted the truck harder, and the wipers squeaked back and forth across the windshield.
Ella groaned. She didn’t want to be stuck at the cabin for three days every time it rained. She had things to do, like tutoring Cal. “I hope this doesn’t keep up. It’ll mess up my schedule, and I’ll have to rearrange my calendar.”
Coop glanced at her a second too long and had to swerve back into his own lane. “Why are you so obsessed with schedules? What exactly is on your calendar? You’re not even working.”
“Just because I don’t have a nine-to-five job, doesn’t mean I’m not busy. And staying on a schedule is what any responsible person does,” Ella said.
“Jesus, Dennings, you’re such a Girl Scout.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Oh, not bad,” said Coop. “Just boring and predictable.” He pulled up in front of the cabin just as the sky opened up completely. The heavy rain pounded the truck.
“Says the man who may likely end up with a criminal record. You should try a little anal-retentive caution, Coop. It might keep you out of trouble.”
His breathing flared, but before he could come back with another retort, she changed the subject.
“A covered garage would be nice,” Ella groused. “I can pay for one, you know.”
“We don’t need a garage.” Coop’s annoyance was obvious. “You won’t melt, and the cold rain might finish sobering you up.”
“I’m plenty sober. I only had two drinks.”
“That’s probably one and a half too many for you.” He jumped out of the truck.
Ella still sat there, staring straight ahead into the darkness. Coop ran for the porch and took the first two steps. He stopped and looked back at the truck. Sloshing through the rain, he ran back to her door and opened it.
“Are you going to sleep in here?”
“Maybe. What’s it to you?”
“It’s my truck, that’s what. Come on, it’s just a little rain.”
Ella could care less about the rain. She was still ticked about that dance with Coop and the effect it had on her. His put-down just added insult to injury.
Predictable? Boring? Okay, maybe a little predictable, but still. She folded her arms over her chest.
“You really do suck at drinking. Do you want me to carry you? Because I will if you don’t get out of my truck right now.”
“No,” she said, fighting off a grin, a plan forming in her head.
She shouldn’t. She really, really shouldn’t.
But oh, heck yeah, why not?
“That won’t be necessary.” She slid out of the seat and planted both boots on the soggy ground, leveling a stare at him. The rain soaked through her thin white sundress within seconds, and the gauzy material stuck to her thighs. “Satisfied?”
Coop’s gaze dropped to her chest, and a flicker of lust ignited in his eyes. Her nipples hardened under his stare.
You asked for it. “I forgot my jacket at Joe’s.” She slammed the truck door closed and brushed against him as she walked past. She sloshed across the wet yard with a sway in her hips. When she got to the front door, she turned to him. Coop still stood by the truck, staring after her. She knew exactly what she looked like. The flimsy white material clung to every inch of her body, revealing her braless bust and the white lace panties underneath. “Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to unlock the door? My keys were in my jacket, and I’m freezing.”
“Oh, uh, yeah.” He snapped out of the trance and hurried to the door.
Coop turned the door handle, but it didn’t open. He jiggled the handle violently, then stared at it, confounded, when it stayed firmly shut.
A smile slid across Ella’s mouth, and she sucked in her bottom lip to hide it. “Um, Coop,” she purred, shifting her weight so her thigh brushed against his. She leaned toward him just enough to invade his personal body space.
He turned a stormy expression on her.
“I thi
nk you have to unlock it first.” She gave him her very best coy smile.
“Huh?” His eyes dropped to her breasts, then darted back up to meet her gaze.
She nodded to the keys in his hand. “With the key.”
Coop followed Ella’s line of sight to his hand. “Oh. Yeah.” He fumbled through the keys and found the right one. He tried to shake the celestial vision of Ella’s flimsy white dress soaked and molded to her like a fitted glove, but since she slid out of his front seat and the rain did its dance all over her, he could think of nothing else except how perfect she was.
When Ella scooted one boot right up next to his foot and shifted her weight so that her thigh grazed his, he dropped the keys.
“Damn,” he cursed.
“What’s the matter, Coop. Can’t you hurry? I’m freezing.” Her voice purred, and she moved a little closer.
Freezing? How could she be cold when heat rose off her shivering body and wrapped around him like a vise? Or a noose that might strangle the life out of him if he wasn’t careful.
He bent to reach for the keys, and so did Ella. Her hand landed on top of his as he grasped the chunk of jangling metal in his palm.
He turned to look at her with a flame-throwing stare. “What’re you doing?”
“Me?” She sounded suspiciously flirtatious. “Just trying to help.” She stooped lower, giving him a grand view of her magnificent cleavage.
His vision blurred.
As she stood up, she ran her hand up the length of his arm and stopped at his bicep. “You know I never really noticed how much you work out.” Her fingers lingered on his upper arm, her thumb playing with the raindrops that moistened his skin.
He jerked away and unlocked the door. Atlas and Winston barreled outside to find a tree. Not feeling very gentlemanly, Coop strode inside first. He couldn’t let her see the effect she had on him. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “I’ll start a fire,” he said over his shoulder.
“No,” Ella said, and Coop stopped in his tracks. He turned to face her, mesmerized by her tone, her mood, her body language. Not to mention her full breasts that strained against wet, sheer fabric. “I’m not boring.” She trekked toward him.
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