It's In His Heart (A Red River Valley Novel)

by Shelly Alexander

  “Make love to me,” she commanded, and he tugged her panties down. “Yes, I have to have you, Bradley.”

  He went still.

  At that moment, Ella’s foggy brain began to clear.

  “Coop?” She swallowed, and tried to catch her breath. “Coop, I’m sorry.”

  He pulled her panties back into place.

  “I just got confused for a second.”

  Coop didn’t utter a word. He just rolled out of bed and adjusted his shorts.

  “Coop, you can stay.” Ella reached for his hand. “I want you to.”

  And she did. She’d started to see a side of Coop that she didn’t know existed. Imagined them eating dinner together every evening. Wondered what it would be like to go to sleep with him at night and wake up with him in the morning. Silly, she knew.

  The dark room obscured her vision, and she couldn’t see his face. She could only make out his silhouette, but she heard him breathe in deeply.

  “Not like this, sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft as a whisper. “I can’t be a stand-in for Bradley.”

  He whistled for the dogs as he left the room. A few seconds later the front door opened and closed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The gloom of a dreary winter day settled over the cabin, even though it was early July and the weather was beautiful. Ella carried a mug of fresh, steaming coffee in each hand. Pushing through the screen door, it slammed behind her.

  She walked toward Coop; Atlas and Winston bounded over to playfully nip at her feet. He glanced over a shoulder, his expression unreadable, then reeled in his line to add more bait to the empty hook.

  She stood beside the old fallen log that served as a bench, clumps of grass growing up around it so that it had become a permanent part of the natural landscape. The stream gurgled past at a lazy pace and smoothed the tension in Ella’s shoulders. And in her heart.

  “Good morning,” she said to Coop’s back.

  “Hey,” he answered, giving her a brief glance. “How’s the arm?”

  “A little sore, but not that bad.”

  He threw his line in the water again and released the reel to let it float downstream. “That type of injury heals pretty quick. The worst part is popping it back into place.”

  “I made you coffee.” She didn’t mind making him coffee. When she woke each morning, his presence in the cabin was the first thing that popped into her mind. Making enough coffee for him and her both had become a comfortable routine. A routine she didn’t look forward to giving up at the end of the summer when it was time for her to move on.

  “Thanks. Just set it there.” He motioned to a smooth clearing of dirt near the bank. “You didn’t have to do that.” He flicked the short stream rod to jiggle the line, then started to turn the reel slowly, rotating the flick and turn in a methodical pattern.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” she said.

  He gave his head a shake. “Nothing to talk about. Last night was a mistake. It shouldn’t have happened.” An empty hook emerged from the stream again, and Coop reeled it the rest of the way in. “Won’t happen again,” he said as he reached for the round container of worms. His frosty disposition chilled her even more than the cool morning air. She shivered even though she wore the long-sleeved hoodie he had loaned her yesterday.

  Ella put his mug on the ground and sat on the log, cradling her warm cup in both hands. “Coop, please.”

  He left the bait on the ground and stood up with a hand on his hip. Looking down, he sighed.

  “Let me tell you I’m sorry.”

  Staring out over the stream, he still didn’t turn to face her. Levi’s hung low on his hips, an indigo-blue T-shirt hugged his shoulders and biceps. He kicked at a small rock with black hiking boots. “Apology accepted. It’s over.”

  “Is it?” Because hells bells, she didn’t think it was over. Calling him the wrong name, especially Bradley’s name, had to be an explosive kick in the gut.

  He dropped his rod and picked up the coffee mug. Blowing on it first, he took a sip. “Forget about it. I know I will.”

  Of course he would. She’d rubbed all over him when he was asleep. Probably the only reason he reacted to her at all was because his mind had been fogged over with sleep.

  “Okay. Well.” She cleared her throat. “I also wanted to say thank you.”

  His forehead crinkled. “For what?”

  “For coming for me yesterday. I don’t know how much longer I could’ve held on.”

  His eyes darkened, and he glanced away. “It was nothing. I would’ve done it for any one of the rafters.”

  “And they would’ve thanked you, too,” she said, and her mouth turned up in a smile. “I was scared, and you were very kind. You took care of me and made me feel like everything would be okay.”

  He studied her for a second and then sat next to her on the log.

  “Can I ask why you’re so scared of the water?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not a great swimmer.”

  “But you had a life jacket on.”

  “I’ve just never been much of a risk taker. You know that; it’s one of the many things you don’t like about me.”

  He shot a cloudy look at her, and she gave him a teasing smile. The darkness eased from his hazel eyes, and he laughed softly.

  “Did someone drown, or did you have an accident in the water when you were young?” he asked, sipping at the coffee.

  She shook her head. “Nope. Just a chicken, I guess. So you’re right about me, I’m boring.” The few times she’d taken a risk it had backfired. Like kissing Coop in the basement all those years ago. Like asking him to get in bed with her, rubbing all over him, and then calling him Bradley.

  She looked away.

  Like wanting to make love to her late husband’s best friend, even though she and Coop had no future together whatsoever. Because, yeah, she couldn’t stop the tingling in unmentionable places every time Coop stepped into the same room. And if she hadn’t called him Bradley last night, she’d probably still be in his bed right this minute, exploring every inch of his beautiful body.

  She swallowed when her nipples hardened. She tucked her hair behind one ear. “So, next weekend I may be gone for a few days. Do you mind if Winston stays here?”

  He shook his head, but a frown appeared on his lips. “Atlas would love it.”

  “I need some retail therapy. Red River isn’t exactly a shopping mecca.”

  His frown deepened. “Are you going back to Albuquerque?”

  “Denver,” she said, and swirled coffee around in the mug.

  “Albuquerque’s a lot closer, so why drive all the way to Denver just to go shopping?”

  “There’s no memories in Denver.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the peaceful stream. His oaky scent and warmth drifted around her like a vise, squeezing out the memories of Bradley until Coop was the only one left.

  Her eyes moistened. “Well, thanks again.” She stood and turned to the cabin.

  “Stay gone as long as you like,” Coop said, hauling himself off the log to retrieve his reel.

  Ella halted at the brusqueness of his tone.

  He cast his line into the stream. “I could use some space. We both could.”

  On Tuesday, Ella went to Doc Holloway’s for a follow-up appointment, then walked a few blocks along Red River’s Main Street to Lorenda’s real estate office.

  “Hey,” Lorenda said, looking up when Ella opened the office door and a jingle went off. She sat behind a massive desk, custom-made to look rustic. Cedar paneling gave the office an earthy scent.

  “Working hard?” Ella asked. She closed the door behind her.

  “Nah, the cabins around here sell themselves.”

  “Then how about some lunch?” Ella plopped into a chair in fr
ont of Lorenda’s desk like they’d known each other forever. Funny how easily she settled into friendships here in Red River. It’d taken her months to make friends in Albuquerque.

  “Sure thing.” Lorenda glanced at her watch.

  Ella pulled out her phone. “I’ll text Brianna and Donna to see if they want to join us. My treat since you guys brought food over three nights in a row after my accident.” She tapped on the keys and hit Send. “Which was completely unnecessary, by the way.”

  “Because you love to cook for yourself so much?” Lorenda arched a brow.

  “Coop has a big mouth about my lack of skills in the kitchen.”

  “Honey, when you shop at the Market, everyone knows what you eat. When I need to buy tampons, I make the forty-minute drive all the way into Taos. Otherwise, the entire town knows it’s my time of the month.”

  Within the minute, Ella’s phone dinged with two replies. “The Gold Miner’s Café in fifteen.” She tucked her phone back into her purse.

  “The benefit of living in a small town.” Lorenda stapled a few papers. “You can gather a posse and be anywhere in town within minutes.”

  “So I keep hearing,” Ella laughed. She fingered her wedding ring, twisting it around in a full circle. Looked out the window at Main Street. Wheeler Peak’s white cap loomed over Red River, stark against the cloudless blue sky. The rest of the Sangre de Cristos were dense with green foliage. People meandered down the main drag, and a Suburban topped with a luggage rack tooled past. “There’s some good folks here.”

  “And is Cooper Wells, DC, one of those folks?”

  Ella’s attention whipped back to Lorenda. “What?”

  Lorenda’s brow arched again. “I’m a salesperson, so I’m pretty observant with people, and there’s definitely something between you two.”

  Ella surrendered and shook her head. What was the use in trying to hide it? She was a terrible liar, anyway. Bradley always said she was the type to tell on herself if she did something wrong.

  Boring. Predictable.

  If Bradley and Coop knew about Violet Vixen, wouldn’t the joke be on them?

  Ella jammed both hands into the pockets of her jean jacket. “I don’t know, to tell you the truth.” She searched for words that eluded her. “One minute we’re enemies, the next we’re . . .” Ella didn’t know what to say next, because she wasn’t sure what they were, exactly.

  “Doing it on the kitchen table?” Lorenda offered.

  “No! No, we’ve never . . .” Ella looked around as if someone might be listening. That small-town thing, again. “We’ve never done ‘it.’”

  “After the accident, I’ve never seen Coop so protective.”

  “It was sort of his job. He was just being helpful.”

  “Sweetie, the paramedics were there. He looked at you like you were the love of his life, and you wouldn’t let go of his hand.”

  Others could see what she and Coop had been dancing around, refusing to admit to themselves? Ella’s eyes clamped shut. “What good would sleeping together do? We’d probably still dislike each other when it was over.”

  Lorenda got up and grabbed her jacket off the coatrack in the corner. Sliding into it, she motioned Ella toward the door. “You sure you guys really dislike each other?”

  No, Ella didn’t dislike Coop. If the tenderness and concern he’d shown her after the rafting accident and the way he’d touched her in bed was any indication, he didn’t seem to dislike her anymore, either.

  “We’re the opposite of what we each want in a partner.” Of what we each need.

  “Opposites attract,” Lorenda said.

  Yes, they did. And that scared the heck out of Ella.

  She followed Lorenda out the door. Coop did scare the heck out of her. She wanted a long-term relationship. And she couldn’t afford to have her heart broken again when it was finally healing from loss and grief. She wanted someone secure like Bradley, someone who was solid and safe. No risk, no heartbreak, no surprises. And no guilt over dating Bradley’s best friend.

  Coop was nothing but risk. And the loyalty they both still carried inside for Bradley seemed like a wall neither of them could tear down. Even if she and Coop gave it a go, a black cloud of guilt would surely crush any chance of success.

  So, why did she want him so much? And not just physically. He’d surprised her and turned out to be far less self-absorbed than she’d always thought. Embarrassingly enough, she was getting attached to him and even found herself wondering if she could make a life with Coop.

  They walked toward the Gold Miner’s Café, both propping sunglasses onto their noses.

  Ella took her left hand out of her pocket and looked at her wedding ring. She came here to close a very painful chapter of her life and open a new one. When she headed to Red River for the summer, she had no idea what that meant or where she’d end up. She still didn’t, but she’d never find out for sure unless she started living again. Really living, without Bradley’s shadow following her and his memory haunting her every move. Without feeling like she was cheating on her dead husband.

  Without becoming another notch on Cooper Wells’s belt.

  “Coop isn’t my type, and I’m definitely not his. But it is time for me to get back in the saddle and start dating again. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you girls about today.”

  They waited for a car to clear the intersection, then crossed over to the other side of Main Street.

  “I need some prep work before I start dating. Like a makeover at Brianna’s salon and a few days of marathon shopping for a new wardrobe in Denver.”

  That sounded like a plan. She’d get herself “date ready,” then she could figure out where to relocate. Preferably somewhere with a large dating pool.

  Coop, Cal, and Butch hammered away at the new cabinets in Ella’s bathroom. Coop had to admit, it was turning out nice. Probably an upgrade he should’ve made a long time ago. Then again, he’d never shared the cabin with a woman before, so the need for another bathroom hadn’t registered in his alpha-male brain.

  He’d spent so much time trying to avoid Ella the past month that he didn’t know when he started to like her presence at the cabin. Didn’t recall when her being there every night and every morning when he woke had filled him with contentedness and satisfaction. It brought him security and comfort. Warmth spread through his chest every time he walked through the front door and smelled her shampoo or that gourmet coffee that she fussed over several times a day. Apparently, it was the only thing the confounded woman knew how to make in the kitchen besides a bowl of sugar-laden cereal.

  He placed a nail against a stud and aimed the hammer at it.

  Unfortunately, the summer was almost half over, and Ella wouldn’t have the chance to use her new space for very long because she’d be moving to destinations unknown.

  The hammer connected with his thumb instead of the nail. He howled, dropping the hammer to grab his purpling thumb.

  “Go put some ice on it,” Butch said. “We’ll finish up.”

  Coop descended the spiral wrought-iron staircase two steps at a time, holding the throbbing thumb. At the bottom, he came to a halt, his feet rooted to the floor.

  Ella’s suitcase sat at the door, handle up, ready to be wheeled out to the car. Away from him. Only for the weekend, but eventually, she’d roll that same suitcase out to the car and never return.

  The same scene played through his mind from his childhood. The arguing between his mom and dad; her tears. A lot of tears. And her begging Coop to move to California with her.

  He’d stayed with Butch. Listened when Butch gave her updates on their son’s baseball games, schoolwork, friends. But Coop wouldn’t get on the phone and speak to her himself. When she came back to Albuquerque just to see him, he sat sullen on the sofa, refusing to speak or look at her. And he never accepted her invitations
to visit her in California, especially not after she remarried.

  He tore his gaze away from the luggage when Ella walked down the hall and into the den.

  “What happened?” Her voice pitched high, green eyes rounded.

  “Apparently, you have to be coordinated to use a hammer.” Coop glowered at his hand.

  “You need ice.” She ran to the freezer and scooped up a handful of ice. He followed her into the kitchen as she threw the cubes into a baggy, added a little water, and grabbed a kitchen towel.

  He leaned against the counter, still holding his pulsing thumb. It hurt.

  She stood in front of him in slim-cut jeans that hugged her long legs, and a T-shirt that said I teach history. What’s your superpower? When she reached for his hand, he let her have it. With a gentle touch, she placed the ice pack over his thumb and molded the cubes around his swelling digit. She wrapped his hand with the towel and held it between hers.

  “You’ll probably lose the fingernail,” she said, looking up at him, and her warm breath washed over his cheeks. He stared down at her, his eyes raking her soft complexion and anchoring to her lips. On cue, the tip of her pink tongue slipped out and traced her plump bottom lip.

  His pulse seemed to pound in unison with his thumb. “Fingernails are overrated,” he said. “I don’t need it.” But he was beginning to think he needed her. No, I don’t. She still loves Bradley, she’s leaving eventually, and I’m . . . screwed. He was stuck in a holding pattern until his name was cleared and he could go back to his life in Albuquerque. “It’ll be fine. I should get back upstairs.”

  “Your thumb is the size of a sausage,” she said, and then turned a very sexy shade of pink.

  Coop’s mouth quirked up.

  Still cradling his wrapped hand in between hers, their eyes locked for what seemed an eternity. Their breath mingled, pulses quickened, and at the same moment, they swayed into each other.

  The landline rang. Ella released his hand and stepped back.

  He let out a ragged breath and snatched the phone off the bar. Ella grabbed a dishcloth and started wiping down the already-spotless counter.