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

by Shelly Alexander

  She brushed her teeth and climbed back into Coop’s bed, ready to make sure his early morning trip to the pharmacy wasn’t for nothing.

  An hour later, Ella woke up from her snooze and smacked her lips together, yawning and stretching. She looked around the empty room and felt a surge of disappointment that the spot beside her was still empty. Coop hadn’t made it back yet.

  Odd.

  Maybe he was buying out every pharmacy in the county. She sighed and tossed the covers back. A girl could dream, couldn’t she?

  Ella padded into the den and let the dogs out. She poured a bowl of cereal and found herself whistling. Would she ever be able to wipe the smile off her face? Probably not, especially if Coop made a regular habit of . . . well, doing the things that made her smile. A tingling sensation zipped through her. Her night with Coop had been sweet and tender and urgent and unbridled all at the same time.

  A shrill ring startled her. She reached for the landline.

  “Hello?”

  “You’re on speaker phone,” Marilyn announced, and Carissa and Becca squealed out a greeting.

  “Hi! What’s up?” Ella’s voice had a singsong tone to it, eager and happy and practically ADD. She tried to dial it down.

  Too late.

  “Cut the crap,” Marilyn’s voice was as hard as marble. “Why are you so happy?”

  “Uh, no reason. I’m just, you know . . .” Crap.

  “Oh!” Becca cut in. “You met someone?”

  Ella pulled in her bottom lip.

  “So, you met someone,” Carissa probed, always the lawyer.

  “Uh, you could say that.”

  “You did Coop, didn’t you?” Marilyn sounded pissed, and Ella heard simultaneous gasps from Carissa and Becca. “I knew it was a mistake to let you stay at the cabin with him. He was just too convenient, his ass was just too cute to resist, and you were just too desperate.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Ella drawled.

  “I knew I should’ve bought you an assortment of girl toys. They really are like the real thing. Maybe better, depending on your selection of men,” said Becca. “Of course, I was married to a gay man, so a refrigerated cucumber would’ve known better how to please a woman.”

  Yeah, that one had taken them all by surprise.

  Marilyn sighed. “So, how long has this been going on?”

  Ella glanced at the clock. “Well, let’s see. Almost twelve hours. I mean, it started twelve hours ago and we finished about four hours ago, give or take.”

  “OMG. He can go that long?” Becca said, totally impressed. “I so need to get married again to a straight guy.”

  Longer, actually, if they hadn’t run out of condoms. And, yeah, Ella had been very impressed, too.

  “Were you drunk? Because you totally can’t hold your alcohol, and if Coop took advantage of you while your judgment was impaired—” Carissa was already building a case.

  “I wasn’t drinking, unless you count soft drinks. I sort of initiated it.”

  She almost always had with Coop.

  Becca giggled. “You’re such a slut. Maybe I should move to Red River.”

  A beep sounded in Ella’s ear, and she looked at the screen on her handset. Caller ID showed Butch’s number. Ah, Coop was probably calling to tell her he had to drive all the way to Taos to find enough condoms for the next few days. She smiled.

  “Listen, guys. I know you’re worried, but don’t be. Really. I’m not going to let this get out of hand.” Unless you considered her and Coop getting crazy on the kitchen counter out of hand, then yeah, it was already way out of hand. Totally. But then she really didn’t care to compare definitions of “out of hand” with her friends at that moment. She cleared her throat. “Someone’s calling in. But, I promise I’ll call you guys in a few days, okay?”

  Marilyn grumbled something about sending her a toy catalog.

  “Okay?” Ella insisted. The phone beeped again. “I’m hanging up now.”

  “All right, but if I don’t hear all the details in the next few days, I’m driving up there. For real this time.”

  Ella smooched into the phone. “Love you guys.”

  She pressed the green button and switched to the incoming call. “Hello?”

  “Ella, this is Butch.” His voice was grave, and Ella’s stomach did an instinctive flip. “A deputy is on his way to the cabin to get you.”

  Her heart kicked against her chest. “Butch, what’s wrong?” Afraid of the answer, her eyes squeezed shut.

  “It’s Coop.” Butch’s voice shook. “He had an accident in your car.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  On the way into town, they approached the crash site, and the deputy slowed to pass with caution. Ella’s throat closed around a sob. Her hand went to her mouth, and she fought for a breath. A tow truck lifted the Beamer onto a flatbed trailer. It was barely recognizable. A huge indentation in the center of the hood left no doubt that Coop had hit a tree head-on at full speed. The windshield shattered, the driver’s window completely gone, the deployed airbags still fluttering in the wind—it was a mangled remnant of Bradley’s one self-indulgence.

  And Coop . . . Ella choked on another sob. If the car looked this bad, how bad was he hurt?

  “Is Coop . . . ?” She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t go through it again, couldn’t lose another man that she cared about.

  They crept past the crushed car and the debris scattered along the road. Ella’s tears flowed.

  No! No, he was fine. But what if Coop wasn’t okay? What if one night was all she’d ever have with him?

  The deputy glanced at her, a worried look on his face. “Maybe we should discuss it when we get to the urgent care clinic. His family is waiting for you.”

  Ella’s stomach turned a cartwheel and bile rose, burning her throat.

  “Please,” Ella donned the sternest teacher voice she could muster. “Tell me right now. I’ve been through the horror of losing a husband, I don’t want any surprises when I get there.” It was imperative to be strong for the victim and their family. God knows she’d needed the strength given her by her own family and friends, because Bradley’s parents rarely made an appearance until they found out the size of his life insurance policy.

  The deputy inhaled. “He’s pretty banged up. That’s all I know.”

  Fear etched Ella’s delicate features, her eyes swollen and red from crying, when she moved the curtain aside and looked in at Coop. Relief washed over her face and her grim expression eased.

  Coop had never seen such a beautiful face. God, he was glad she hadn’t been with him. She hurried to his side. Her emerald eyes shimmered with wetness, and he tried to lift onto an elbow to greet her.

  He grimaced and hissed in a breath, pain lancing through his upper body.

  His forearm—stitched up where shattered glass had torn out a chunk of his flesh—was wrapped with an ACE bandage, so she took his other hand. “Lay down.” She ran a hand up his arm and onto his bare chest, the paramedics having cut his shirt off in the ambulance. The red marks that spattered his torso were already turning purple around the scratches from the airbag.

  “Hey.” She gave him a shaky smile.

  “Hey, yourself.” The grapefruit-size knot over his eye wasn’t the only thing throbbing now that Ella had arrived. Even with his head pounding from the impact, he still wanted her. Not only had last night been the best sex of his life, but Ella had touched his heart in a way that made life seem impossible without her. She wasn’t as boring and predictable as he’d once thought. She was full of life and sass, and when she told him she hadn’t been with anybody in such a long time, he’d felt a strange gratification. Like she belonged to him. Only him.

  “Coop, I was so scared you were—” Her voice cracked, and a dainty hand covered her quivering mouth.

  He stroked her hand. “I�
�m okay. Stop worrying.”

  “You don’t look okay.” She let out a shaky laugh and ran gentle fingertips over his battered and bruised chest again. “You look awful.”

  “You look gorgeous.” His eyes went to her rosy lips, and he thought of what she’d done with them just a few hours ago. He looked down at her hand clasped in his. Her left hand.

  His breath caught in his chest for a moment. Caressing the empty space where her wedding ring used to sit, he stared at the long, slender finger. Bared. For him.

  Last night he hadn’t noticed if it was on her finger or not because he had more pressing things on his mind. But now his chest expanded with a satisfied breath. When he could get out of this hospital bed, he bet he’d be a little taller, a little stronger. And a little sad, too, because it must’ve been a hard step for her to take.

  “You took off your wedding ring.” He almost whispered.

  Her lush lips lifted into a soft smile. “It was time.” Lines appeared between her eyebrows. “What happened? No one would tell me. I had a good mind to pepper spray a few folks just to get answers, but you had my keys.”

  He laughed, but pain lanced through his chest and head, so his smile turned to a scowl.

  “It was your admirer from Joe’s the other night,” he managed to say while the stab of throbbing eased a bit. “He and a couple of his Neanderthal buddies must’ve waited outside Joe’s, watching for me. I got a good look at them before they ran me off the road.”

  “Oh, Coop.” Her eyes grew wet again. “They could’ve . . . hurt you even worse.”

  “I’m sorry about Bradley’s car,” he said, tightening his grip on her hand.

  Ella shook her head. “It was just a car. This is my fault, not yours. Those guys were mad at me.”

  “It’s not your fault they’re assholes.” He lifted her empty ring finger to his mouth and kissed it. She shivered, goose bumps racing up her arm, and Coop’s chin lifted a little with pride at how she reacted to him.

  Ella was here. For him. Without her wedding ring and wearing the same worried look she’d had when Bradley was dying. He’d just spent the night with his best friend’s wife, then destroyed Bradley’s car, all within a twenty-four-hour span of time. That had to be a record for being the crummiest friend in the history of crummy friends.

  But Ella was different than any other woman he’d ever been with. By this point in a relationship he was already looking for an exit strategy. This time, he kept thinking about how much he didn’t want it to end. The muscle in Coop’s jaw flexed, and pain shot through his neck.

  The door opened and Butch walked in. Ella jerked her hand out of Coop’s and stepped away from him. Her expression clouded over. Coop looked at her, but she refused to meet his eyes. She fidgeted, and a light blush colored her cheeks.

  Huh.

  “I called your mother, Coop.”

  Coop’s attention snapped to his dad. “Why?” Coop blurted, annoyed.

  “Because she’s your mother,” Butch said, deadpan. “She wanted to talk, but I told her you weren’t up to it.”

  “Good.” The only woman Coop wanted to talk to right now was Ella, who was rubbing the back of her neck and avoiding his stare. Why wouldn’t she want his dad to know they were together? Because they were together now, right?

  “You should consider calling her when you feel like talking.”

  The doctor walked in, thank God, because Coop had no intention of discussing the subject of his mother.

  “Doc, when can I get out of here?” He was ready to go home. Where Ella didn’t have to pretend she didn’t care about him.

  Ella fussed over Coop for two days, and it was kind of nice. Fantastic, actually. Especially when she helped him shower. Being injured had its perks. Two kissable perks that brushed against his chest when she lifted her arms to wash his hair and rinse it out.

  He’d walked around the yard some each day to work out the stiffness, but his body had taken a beating and still ached from head to toe. The stitches across his forearm still throbbed. So when he wasn’t stretching his legs with a leisurely stroll around the property, Ella had insisted on a Walking Dead marathon on Cal’s recommendation. Nothing like a little zombie gore to make a guy feel better, especially with an attractive redhead curled up next to him, peeking through her fingers.

  Thank you, little brother. No more siphoning off his gas.

  Propped against big, fluffy pillows that Ella had bought for him, he ate from the tray she’d positioned over his lap. Ella climbed onto the bed and clicked off the television just as a zombie took one through the head with a sword like a live game of Fruit Ninja. The lamp cast a yellow hue over the room; the sun had long since gone down. He looked up to find Ella’s gaze roaming his bare chest, and the spoon stopped midway to his mouth.

  “Joe sent the stew over for dinner,” she said, licking her lips. “I think every person in Red River has called and offered to bring over food.”

  “You accepted, right?” Because as much as he’d grown to like Ella, the woman couldn’t boil water without burning it. He’d moved the fire extinguisher from the hall closet to the pantry, just in case she set the kitchen on fire while making coffee.

  “Of course,” she grinned.

  “You’re not eating? Aren’t you hungry?” he asked.

  A naughty smile spread across her lips. “Oh, I’m hungry.”

  His mouth went dry.

  Her brow arched, and she nodded to the tray. “Are you done with that?”

  “So done with it.” The spoon clattered onto the tray.

  She moved the tray to the nightstand and slid back onto the bed facing him. Her fingertips feathered over the bruises on his chest. The muscles twitched and shifted at her touch. “I picked up a few extra items yesterday when I went into town to get you more ibuprofen.”

  “More condoms?” Please say more condoms. Because the two boxes he’d bought the day of the accident had been scattered in the wreckage somewhere along Highway 578.

  Her index finger explored the crevice between his pecs, which flexed involuntarily. Then her finger trailed along the faint line of hair, over his belly button, and disappeared beneath the quilt that covered him from the waist down.

  “Uh-huh, but if you’re too sore—”

  His fingers closed around her wrist, stilling those magical fingers. “I’ll manage,” he said, his voice heavy with lust. He pulled her to him until she straddled him. Fisting her auburn hair in his good hand, he tugged her mouth to his. She sighed and melted into his kiss.

  Running both hands over his chest, her hips circled against his. He groaned and whispered his desire against her hot mouth.

  She broke the kiss and locked gazes with him, her arms draped around his shoulders. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Baby, right now, the only thing that hurts is the thing you’re sitting on because it wants you so bad.”

  “But you’re still injured, and I’m kind of . . . aggressive.”

  No kidding. When their clothes came off, she transformed from a conservative history teacher into a sex kitten. She’d been hesitant for about thirty seconds, until he’d loved her with his tongue. After that first orgasm, she’d let go of her inhibitions and let him taste and touch every inch of her body, then she’d done the same to him.

  “Then go easy on me,” he teased her.

  A silky brow arched high. Lowering her head, she nipped at his lip. Then she blazed a trail of hot, wet kisses to his ear and whispered something that almost made him lose it right then.

  He swallowed hard. “Jesus, Ella.”

  “What?” She looked at him. “You want me to stop?”

  “Hell, no. I just wasn’t expecting anything that . . .” Erotic. “. . . sexy from you.”

  She frowned. “You don’t expect me to be sexy? Is that what you just said?”


  “Uh,” he said, because that was the most intelligent thing that came to mind after sticking his foot so far into his mouth that his toes tickled the back of his throat.

  “Is that sort of like your Girl Scout comment? Because you already know how wrong you were about that.”

  Wrong as a tornado hitting a glass factory. His fist still anchored in her hair, he pulled her lips to his and kissed her hard and deep. “Forget the Girl Scouts. Whisper that in my ear again,” he murmured against her lips.

  She smiled and took his bottom lip between her teeth to suckle. Then she did exactly what he asked, and whispered the steamiest, most seductive promises into his ear.

  “Jesus,” he panted out, his voice dark and rugged. “Get a condom, Ella.”

  “No,” she whispered. “Didn’t you say no the first night we were together, and I asked you to make love to me right away?” She scooted backward and nipped a trail of wet, caressing kisses down his chest. Licked at his navel and nudged his legs apart to settle there on her stomach. She pulled back the quilt and lowered her mouth to his boxer briefs, taking the elastic waistband between her teeth for a quick tug. “These have to go. I think you said that to me, too.” Her hot breath against his prick sent shock waves through his body, and he shuddered. “I really want to see that birthmark of yours again. It’s in such an inviting location.”

  She tugged the boxers down enough to have access, and good God, Coop’s fingers stayed entangled in her hair for a good long while. And hell, she could explore his birthmark anytime she wanted, because she was good at it.

  Ella controlled his body and hers, giving them both pleasure, until several empty gold wrappers lay strewn across the nightstand. Her cheek rested gently against his shoulder, and he stroked her long, flowing hair to its tip, then started at the top of her head and did it again. And again. And again.

  He loved to touch her.