by April Wilson
“We are. But first I needed to do that. Once I got the idea in my head at dinner, I couldn’t let it go.”
Cooper makes short work of my clothing, stripping me down to my birthday suit. We both head for the bathroom to take care of business and get ready for bed because neither one of us will want to move a muscle once we’re wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Once we’re in bed, propped up on pillows and lying in each other’s arms, we start the film and lie back to watch. The room is dark, but there’s enough light coming from the television screen that I can make out what Cooper’s doing as he casually reaches over to open the nightstand drawer and pull out a bottle of lotion. He tosses the bedding aside, then squirts some lotion into his hand.
I don’t say a word, but instead just lie there and try to watch the movie as he grips my cock, his big hand leisurely stroking me from base to tip. As his grip tightens, I moan, turning to press my hot face into his shoulder. He’s going to torture me like this—I just know he is—keeping me on the edge of arousal as long as he can, before he eventually lets me come. Before long, I’m breathing hard, like I’ve just run a marathon, and groaning shamelessly against his shoulder. He continues jerking me off, squeezing and stroking and tugging on me until I’m squirming, desperate to come. My body tenses and my ballsac draws up tight. Fire races down my spine and into my balls, and I muffle my cry against him as I erupt in thick, scalding ribbons of come that shoot onto my belly and chest. He continues to milk me, alternately murmuring to me and kissing me as I gradually come down from the high.
After a quick clean-up with a hand towel, we both settle into each other’s arms and watch the last of the film. When the credits roll, I turn off the TV and turn toward Cooper. He pulls me into his arms, my head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, my body warm and sated.
I’ve never felt so contented in my life. “I love you.” Three short words, and yet they carry so much meaning.
He clears his throat, swallowing hard. “I love you too, baby.”
Chapter 24
Sam
When I awake the next morning, Cooper’s gone, presumably to get an early start at the shooting range. He and Shane still have this ridiculous babysitting arrangement going between them. I’m so fucking tired of being treated like an invalid. Beth was right—we do have two dads. I don’t mind Cooper bossing me around in bed, but out of bed—hell no. And Shane—he might be my boss, but he’s not my daddy. I’ve really got to get my ass in gear and get back to work.
I lie here for a few minutes, thinking about last night. An actual dinner date, then a bit of mind-blowing sexy fun, followed by a shoot-’em-up, high-body-count movie. I could definitely get used to this.
After stretching and groaning like a bear coming out of hibernation, I hit the john, then throw on my workout clothes. I’ll grab a little bit to eat, some coffee, and hit the gym.
As I walk into the kitchen, Beth waves from her spot at the breakfast counter. She’s got a bowl of oatmeal in front of her, as well as her laptop.
I glance at the screen. “Doing schoolwork?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a management paper due today.”
I grab a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and pour myself a glass.
“Cooper left you a plate in the warmer,” she says, pointing.
I grab my juice and plate and sit beside her, and we eat in silence, as I don’t want to interrupt her school work.
I don’t know about her, but I’m really feeling the strain of being cooped up in the penthouse. I imagine she’s itching to get back to work, too. “Shane’s in his office?” I say.
She nods. “I overheard him telling Diane to reschedule all of his morning appointments this week because he’ll be working from home. Ugh. I’ve got cabin fever. I just want to get back to our old routine, you know? I want to be able to go out.”
“Yeah. This is getting old.”
She takes a sip of milk and looks at me pensively. “How much longer do you think it’ll be until you can get recertified for work? If you can come back to work, I’m sure Shane will let me leave the penthouse and go to Clancy’s. I miss Erin. And Mack. I miss my store.”
I lean over and kiss her cheek. “I miss them, too.”
After I finish my food, I rinse off my dishes and put them in the dishwasher. “I’m going to go work out. My leg feels good, and I think maybe I can really push myself to hit my targets today. At least I’ll give it my best shot.”
“Don’t overdo it!” she calls to me as I jog down the hallway toward the fitness room.
* * *
After a 20-minute warm up, I hit the treadmill. I take it easy the first mile, just letting my leg get reaccustomed to carrying my weight at a steady pace. The second mile, I jack up the speed a bit, and by the third mile, I increase the incline. I’m going for endurance right now. I need to rebuild my stamina to get back to peak performance.
I feel energized after yesterday. Cooper taking me out to dinner was pretty momentous for me. I know it was just a dinner, not a marriage proposal, but it signified something.
Beth joins me in the fitness center, listening to an audiobook as she walks on the treadmill beside mine, while I put myself through my paces. When I’m done, I wipe the sweat from my face with a hand towel. Then I drop down onto the mat and churn through an ungodly number of push-ups. I push myself, and then I push myself some more. I realize I’ve gotten lazy and far too complacent since the accident, almost seeing myself as an invalid. It’s way past time to get over that.
“Hey, will you come sit on my feet?” I ask Beth, after catching her attention. She shuts off the treadmill and obliges me by sitting crosslegged on my feet, clinging to my shins. This time, I actually hit my target spot on.
The next morning, I go to the shooting range with Cooper to do some serious target practice. After I squeeze off my third magazine into the paper targets suspended at the end of my shooting lane—having clearly decimated the head and chest regions of my imaginary foes—I remove my ear protection just in time to hear a low chuckle coming from behind me. I look back to see Cooper grinning at me.
He lays a warm hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Looks like you haven’t lost your edge, kid. Consider yourself recertified on weapons.”
Yes! One assessment down. Now I just have to pass the physical tests.
I grab an Uber ride back to the apartment building and head upstairs to the penthouse to put some more miles on the treadmill. When I walk through the foyer into the apartment, I see Beth seated at the breakfast bar doing her school work.
“Hey, princess,” I say, tugging on her ponytail. “Study hard. I’ll be on the treadmill.”
She laughs. “You’re certainly in a good mood this morning.”
“I am. Cooper signed off on my weapons certification.”
“That quickly?”
I shrug. “What can I say? I have good aim. It’s like riding a bike—you never forget how.”
Shane walks into the kitchen carrying a coffee mug. “You never forget how to do what?”
“Sam got recertified on weapons this morning,” Beth says. “Now he just has to pass the physical assessment.”
Shane pours himself a fresh cup of coffee.
“That’s all?” Shane says, smirking at me.
“Hey, give me until the end of this week, and I’ll be there. I guarantee it.”
“Thank God,” Beth says. “I’m so bored staying home all the time. I want to go back to work.”
I bump Beth lightly with my hip. “Don’t worry, girlfriend, I got this.”
For the rest of the week, I train my ass off, sometimes with Beth’s helpful company, and sometimes without. I work hard all morning, and then I usually hang with Beth in the afternoon, watching movies or playing video games.
By Wednesday, I’ve got the upper body and core strength exercises mastered—the sit-ups, the push-ups, and the pull-ups. I’m still working on that run. Once I have that down, I can sch
edule with Liam for a physical assessment at the office.
On Thursday, Beth and I head downstairs to the building’s fitness room so I can do some serious running. With her cheering me on, I nail the run—a mile and a half in under ten minutes. My leg is finally on board again.
“Call Liam,” Beth says, handing me my phone. “If you can pass the physical assessment tomorrow, then I can go back to work on Monday.”
“You got it.” I call Liam and make the appointment to see him Friday morning. Then, the rest of Thursday morning and into the early afternoon, I run through the drills twice more, just to be sure I have the endurance to keep it up.
That evening at dinner, with the four of us seated at one end of the dining room table, I tell Cooper, “I have an appointment with Liam in the morning. I’m ready to pass my physical assessment.”
Cooper raises an eyebrow. “Really? You think you’re ready for that?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, he is,” Beth says.
Cooper’s phone chimes with an incoming call, and when he sees who’s on the line, he picks up immediately. “Jenny? What’s the news?”
“Jenny Murphy,” I whisper to Beth. “She’s the editor of The Sweetwater Gazette.”
At first, Cooper looks pensive as he listens to Jenny talk. Then his expression goes from skeptical to wary to relieved. “Really? He’s sure?” Pause. “He obtained a reliable visual sighting?” Pause. “And it’s the right vehicle?” Pause. “All right. Thank you. Please keep me posted.”
Cooper ends the call and lays his phone on the table. “I’m sure you picked up on the fact that was Jenny Murphy, from Sweetwater. She said the local authorities found Roger Stevens’ vehicle abandoned at the edge of a state forest. A local guy, an avid hunter who knows Stevens well, said he saw Roger Stevens in the woods yesterday. After a search, the feds found the remains of a campsite. They found physical evidence that Roger has been camping out in the woods for a few days.”
“If he’s still down near Sweetwater, then he can’t be in Chicago!” Beth says, grinning at me. “That means we’re no longer under house arrest.”
Shane looks far from happy when he frowns at Cooper. “But they don’t have him in custody?”
Cooper shakes his head, looking just as unhappy as Shane. “No.”
Beth looks from Cooper to Shane, and she frowns. “But someone spotted him down there, someone who knows him. Surely that’s enough evidence—”
Shane reaches for Beth’s hand and squeezes it. “Sweetheart, jumping to conclusions is a great way to get someone killed.” Then he picks up his phone and keys in a text message. “I asked Jake to meet us here.”
After we finish our meal, Cooper and Shane hole up with Jake in Shane’s office for a pow-wow. Beth and I clean up the dinner dishes. I’m feeling pretty damn good. I’m about to get the OK to go back to work, which means Beth and I can get out of the apartment. It looks like Roger Stevens’ escape from justice might have been a false alarm—maybe the guy just went on a walkabout in his own backyard, managing to avoid the authorities for the better part of a week. And I’m finally shacking up with my true love. “Hey, smile,” I say, bumping hips with Beth. “Life’s pretty damn good.”
She laughs. “Yes, it is. I can’t wait to call Erin and tell her the good news. She’ll be ecstatic.”
Chapter 25
Cooper
I relayed Jenny’s account to Jake as he and I sat in the chairs across from Shane’s seat. When I finished, Jake looked just about as unimpressed with the news as Shane and I felt.
“What do you think?” Jake asked Shane.
Shane’s mouth flattened. “I don’t think this report changes anything. We have nothing definitive. No one’s apprehended Stevens, which means he could be anywhere.”
“But they do have his vehicle,” Jake points out. “And physical evidence that he’s been camping out in the woods. Is he an outdoorsman? Does he have survival skills?”
I nod. “Jenny said he does. She said he’s a member of a local hunting club. She also mentioned he’s a member of a survivalist group down there. They do monthly exercises in the woods, camp rough, that sort of thing.”
Jake still doesn’t look convinced. “And there’s no report of any stolen vehicles in the area? No evidence that he might have rented a car, or perhaps a buddy of his rented a car for him? Or loaned him a car?”
“According to Jenny, none,” I say.
“Well, we have no evidence he left the state,” Jake says. “And we have no evidence he’s here in Chicago.” He looks at Shane. “So, what’s the plan?”
Shane blows out a heavy breath as he runs his fingers through his hair. “We’ve got a bunch of hearsay, that’s all. I’m not willing to bet anyone’s safety on hearsay.” Shane looks to me for my opinion.
“Sam’s going in to see Liam tomorrow morning, to get recertified for work,” I say.
“Do you think he’ll pass?” Shane says.
I nod. “He’ll pass, or he’ll kill himself trying. He’s tired of being cooped up. He and Beth both need some freedom back.”
Shane shakes his head. “I don’t like this one bit. There’s nothing more than anecdotal evidence that Stevens is still in Sweetwater, and none that he’s here, and yet I can’t shake the bad feeling I’ve got.”
“How about this,” Jake says. “Until Stevens is captured, we keep the extra security inside the building lobby, and I’ll reassign Cameron and Killian to the bookstore. And Beth is limited to just going to Clancy’s for now, nowhere else.”
Shane looks pensive, and still not happy, but eventually he nods. “I can’t keep her locked up here forever, or she’ll mutiny. And if Sam’s going to be back to work tomorrow, then it’ll be impossible to keep the two of them cooped up in the penthouse.” He blows out another heavy breath. “All right. We’ll let them go to Clancy’s, and we’ll increase the security in the store. That sounds reasonable.”
Then Shane looks at me. “Keep checking in with the authorities in Sweetwater for any updates on the search for Stevens. I want to know the instant that fucker is apprehended.”
* * *
About eight o’clock that evening, the four of us are seated on the sofa by the fire, just relaxing, watching a movie on the flatscreen.
Shane’s phone rings and he looks at the screen and frowns. As he accepts the call, I mute the audio on the movie.
“It’s the front lobby security,” Shane says, putting the call on the speaker phone.
A disembodied voice comes over the speaker. “Sir, there’s a man in the lobby asking to see Mr. Harrison. What should I tell him? It’s not Roger Stevens, sir. This is a younger man. Says his name is Craig Morrow, sir. He says he’s a friend of Mr. Harrison’s.”
I look at Sam, who looks as surprised as I feel to hear that Craig is here in Chicago. “Are you expecting him? Did you know he was coming here?”
Sam shakes his head. “No. I haven’t spoken to him since I left Dayton.”
Shane looks at me first, then at Sam. “What should I tell him? Do you want to see him?”
Sam looks absolutely baffled by Craig’s sudden appearance. He opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out.
“Send him up,” I say, suddenly overwhelmed with the need to meet the asshole who tried to steal my guy. “I want to meet this guy.”
“All right,” Shane says. Then to the guard on the phone, he says, “Have someone escort Mr. Morrow up to the penthouse.”
I jump up from the sofa and stand at the foyer doors, arms crossed over my chest, eager to meet this Craig. I hope he really is an asshole so I can kick him out. If he says one inappropriate thing to Sam, he’s out of here.
Shane remains seated on the sofa, next to Beth, who’s half-turned in her seat to watch the foyer door over the back of the sofa.
Sam joins me at the foyer door. “Tone it down, babe,” he says, nudging me with his elbow. “You look like you’re ready to kill someone.”
I scoff at hi
m. “Maybe I am.”
Sam rolls his eyes at me. “Relax. He probably just came here to check on me. Stop worrying.”
“Who says I’m worried?”
Sam gives me a flat look. “Give me a break.” He runs his hand down my arm, squeezing my muscles. “You’re too tense. Relax. Craig’s harmless.”
My heart rate is indeed pounding, and my teeth are clenched so tightly I’m afraid I might crack my jawbone. “Why is he here, Sam?”
He shrugs. “Honestly? I don’t know. I’m as surprised that he’s here as you are. I made it clear to him that I was taken.”
“Did you guys talk about seeing each other again? Did you make plans with him?”
He cracks a smile. “Oh, my God, are you jealous?”
“This isn’t funny, pal. Just answer my question.”
“No, we didn’t make plans to see each other again. When I left Dayton, I said goodbye to him. I never expected to see him again.”
I hate how cavalier Sam is acting about Craig’s arrival. I’m practically having a panic attack here, and he’s grinning at me like a fool, telling me to relax. “Don’t tell me to relax.”
The elevator pings as the doors open. Craig steps out of the elevator, accompanied by a uniformed, armed security guard.
The guard stops at the foyer door, eyeing me directly. Smart guy. “Mr. Cooper. Sorry to bother you, sir, but Mr. Harrison has a guest.”
Craig looks a little shell-shocked as he glances around the spacious great room, his blue eyes widening. When his gaze finally lights on Sam, he smiles and visibly relaxes. “Sam, hi!”
Sam steps closer to Craig and offers his hand for a shake. “Hi, Craig. Welcome.”
Instead of shaking hands, Craig pulls Sam into his arms, catching him by surprise with a bear hug. “Surprised to see me?” Craig says.
Sam pulls back from the hug. “Yeah, you could say that. I wasn’t expecting you.”
Tired of being left out of this little welcoming party, I step forward and lay my arm across Sam’s shoulders. Subtlety is not my strong suit. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend, baby?”