by April Wilson
She comes to him, and he pulls her onto the bed beside him.
She sits gingerly on the side of the bed, taking care not to jostle him. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding,” I tell her. “Cooper just had a sponge bath, and now he’s going to lie here and rest. You can keep him company.”
Cooper gives me a dirty look, as Beth smothers a laugh.
Lia and Jonah walk into the room. “Who had a sponge bath?” Lia says.
“Cooper did,” Beth says.
Lia comes to stand at the foot of the bed. “How ya doing, pops? I heard you had some drama up at the cabin.”
Jonah offers his hand to Cooper for a shake. “I’m glad to see you’re all right.”
“Thanks, Jonah,” he says, pointedly ignoring Lia’s taunt. “Yeah, we had a little drama, but Sam took care of it.”
“Way to go, red!” Lia says, offering me a fist bump.
I lean against the dresser, enjoying the family banter. Thinking back to Cooper’s upbringing and the lack of support he received from his parents, I’m grateful that he has this family, who support him and love him unconditionally. And I’m grateful to be included now as well.
Shane walks into the room. “Molly and Jamie are on their way, and the food will be here soon. Why don’t we take this party into the great room? I think we can make Cooper comfortable on the sofa. If you feel up to it?”
“Sure,” Cooper says, sitting up in bed. “It beats lying in bed like an invalid.”
I lend Cooper my shoulder again and help bear some of his weight as he shuffles toward the great room. Beth brings pillows and a blanket and makes a cozy bed for him on the sofa.
The elevator pings, and a moment later Molly and Jamie, along with Jake, walk through the foyer doors. Molly holds Jamie’s hand, effortlessly guiding him to the sofa.
“Oh, my God, I’m so glad you’re all right,” Molly says, hugging Cooper.
Jamie sits on the coffee table in front of Cooper and shakes Cooper’s hand. “Jake said this guy followed you from Sweetwater to Chicago to Harbor Springs? He was one of the guys you went to Sweetwater to confront?”
“He was. He’s dead now. All three of them are dead. I’m not going to lose any sleep over that since they killed an innocent young boy.”
Jake offers Cooper a bottle of beer. “Can you drink?”
“Hell, yes, I can,” Cooper says, reaching for the bottle. “They gave me some prescription painkillers, but I’ll pass on those. I’ll make do with over-the-counter stuff.”
The food arrives shortly later, accompanied by two uniformed caterers and Beth’s friend, Gabrielle, to supervise. The food—Italian Wedding Soup, salad, beef Bolognese, garlic bread, and a Lemon Mascarpone cake for dessert—is served at the big dining room table, but I make up plates for Cooper and myself, and I sit on the coffee table across from him while he eats in his makeshift bed.
“You holding up okay?” I ask him, when I notice him fidgeting and wincing occasionally.
“I’m hanging in there. The leg’s a little sore.”
“A little sore?” I laugh. “Dude, you were shot. I know—from personal experience—that hurts like hell. Do you want to go back to bed?”
“No. I’m all right out here for a while. It’s nice being with everyone.”
A burst of laughter from the dining room table catches our attention, and we glance over at the rest of the crowd. Jake is regaling everyone with the story of how I jumped off the Sweetwater River Bridge in practically my birthday suit.
“Oh, my God!” Lia says. “Please tell me you got that on video! It needs to go on Instagram.”
“No, it does not!” Cooper yells across the room, eliciting more laughter.
“No, sorry,” Jake says, laughing. “We didn’t get any video. But maybe you can sweet talk Sam into recreating the event. He can always jump naked into the Chicago River.”
“Oh, hell no!” Cooper says. “He’s not jumping naked off any more bridges. My poor heart can’t take it.”
“Don’t worry, babe,” I say, patting his good leg. “I won’t put you through that again.”
Jake continues entertaining his rapt audience. “So, Sam finally climbs out of the water and up to the bridge, his balls frozen solid, and—just to add insult to injury—the deputy gives him a hundred dollar fine. And that’s when we notice this sign posted on the bridge: NO JUMPING.”
More laughter, all at my expense, of course.
When Cooper’s finished with his meal, I take his plate and mine to the kitchen, then return to the sofa. He looks flushed, so I feel his forehead to make sure he’s not got a fever. He feels cool to the touch. I just think he’s exhausted. He’s due for his medication, so I bring him his pills along with a glass of water.
He’s starting to look a bit wan again. “Do you need anything?” I ask him.
“Just you.”
He sounds tired. I stand and hold out my hand. “I think you should go back to bed now. Enough socializing for today, all right?”
He nods, almost reluctantly. “That’s probably a good idea.”
“Hey, guys, carry on without us,” I say. “It’s been a long day, and Cooper’s tired. We’re going to call it a night.”
The girls come over to hug him and say goodnight. Beth, Molly, and Lia. Shane comes over to lay his hand on Cooper’s shoulder. The two men eye each other solemnly.
“Yeah, don’t make a fuss,” Cooper finally says, blushing. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
It’s obvious by Shane’s expression that he’s not amused. “Fuss? If that bullet had struck a foot higher, you would have bled out then and there. So, yeah, pardon me if I fuss a bit.”
With teary eyes, Beth slips her arm around Shane’s waist, and he puts his arm around her, drawing her close.
“Yeah, all right, I’m sorry,” Cooper says. “I shouldn’t make light of it.”
The last thing I want to think about right now is what might have happened. What could have gone so horribly wrong out there in the woods. “Okay, that’s enough what-iffing. The fact is, Cooper’s alive and well, as ornery as usual, and we’re going to make sure he stays that way. For now, I’m going to put his ass in bed.”
Everyone laughs, as was my intention, as I walk Cooper out of the room and down the hallway to our suite. Once we’re inside our room, I help him walk to the bathroom.
“I can take it from here,” he says, limping into the room.
He’s obviously in a lot of pain, and he’s practically swaying on his feet from exhaustion. When he stumbles and nearly falls, just barely managing to catch himself on the bathroom counter, I step in, putting my arm around his waist. “Here, let me help you.”
“I can handle it myself,” he growls at me, giving me a glare that matches his mood.
I’m not surprised, or offended, by his belligerent tone. I get it. He’s a tough guy—he doesn’t take well to playing the invalid. But right now, whether he likes it or not, he is an invalid, and I’m the one who’s going to take care of his grouchy ass—whether he likes it or not.
“No, you can’t,” I say, trying to tamp down my own frustration. “You need help—you need my help—unless you want me to call Shane or Jake in here.”
His eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”
It’s all I can do to keep a straight face, and I’m pretty sure laughing right now wouldn’t help the situation. “Then shut up and let me help you.”
He grits his teeth and hisses at me. “I don’t need any help, damn it!”
I give him my best oh, yeah face. “Are we gonna fight about this?”
He scowls, his pale brow furrowing.
Oh, yeah, we’re gonna fight. I sweep him up into my arms and carry him to the john, setting him down outside the door to the private toilet room. There’s a hand rail in there, so I’m pretty sure he can manage by himself from here. “Don’t be such a drama queen. I’m not going to let you fall on your ass just because you’re stubborn.
”
He exhales heavily, his shoulder hunching. “I’m not good at this.”
I think that’s as close to an apology as I’m going to get. “It’s okay. I am.”
He chuffs. “Smart ass.”
I help him by unsnapping his jeans, lowering the zipper and tugging the denim and his briefs down to his thighs.
“Okay, I got it,” he says, hobbling toward the toilet.
I close the door partway to give him some privacy and brush my teeth at the sink while he takes a piss. Then I tidy up my top knot and strip down to my black boxer briefs and lean against the bathroom counter, waiting.
I hear a noise, then a thump, then a moan from the toilet area. Then, finally, a voice. “Sam?”
He sounds… defeated. When I pop my head through the open doorway, I see him leaning against the wall, holding himself upright using the hand rail. His briefs are halfway up his ass, his jeans down around his knees. He’s a hot mess. “Yes?”
He peers up at me with pained eyes. “I need your help.”
I refrain from saying I told you so, and instead I pull up his briefs and help him step out of his jeans. Then I pull his arm across my shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist and help him to the sink to wash up and brush his teeth. He looks like he’s ready to keel over any second.
Once he’s done, I lift him in my arms and carry him to bed.
“Thanks,” he mumbles as I arrange the bedding over him.
“No need to thank me, babe.”
After turning off the lights, I crawl in bed beside him, facing him, and lay my arm across his abdomen. “I’m glad we’re home. In our own bed.”
He lays his arm over mine and threads our fingers together. “Yeah. Me too. Thank you—” he starts to say.
“No. There’s no need to thank me.”
“But you risked your life for me, going after Stevens like that.”
“Nobody messes with my guy.”
“You probably saved my life.”
“Oh, bullshit. Don’t be so melodramatic.” I lay my head on his shoulder and tighten my hold on him.
Shane was right, though, when he said that bullet came close—within a foot—of killing him. I shudder at the thought.
“Hey,” he says, rubbing the back of my hand. “I’m not that easy to kill, you know. I faced a lot worse in the Marines.”
I lift myself up and kiss a line along his jaw, then over to his mouth. It’s just a gentle kiss, nothing sexual.
When I settle back down beside him, he puts him arm around me.
“Somebody has a birthday coming up in a couple of weeks,” he says. “What do you want for your birthday?”
“Yeah, St. Patrick’s Day. How about some green beer?”
He laughs. “What else?”
I lean closer and place a kiss over his heart. “You. I just want you.”
He turns toward me and kisses me, giving me a long, lingering kiss that offers a bit more heat than I expected this soon. “I’m already yours, Sam. I’ve been yours for a long time.”
When he continues kissing me, a shiver runs down my spinal cord, lighting up my nerve endings and giving me the beginnings of an inconvenient and ill-timed erection. “Now you’re not playing fair,” I say against his lips. “You can’t get me all hot and bothered when you’re out of commission for the time being.”
He laughs. “Who said love is fair?”
Two Weeks Later
Sam
Erin walks into Beth’s office dressed in a Kelly-green skirt, white blouse, and big shamrock earrings. “Happy St. Patrick’s Day!” she says.
I shake my head, grinning. “You look absolutely adorable.”
She looks defensive. “Hey, I don’t want anyone pinching me today.”
Of course, I guess I shouldn’t talk. I have my Luck of the Irish T-shirt on, also Kelly green. After all, it’s St. Patrick’s Day—also my twenty-ninth birthday. Beth and Erin took me out for lunch today to celebrate my birthday, and we’re all still reeling from a few too many calories. Beth’s office looks like a halfway house for birthday balloons—they’re floating all through the room, attached to every flat surface available.
Erin hands Beth a sheet of paper. “Here are the May orders for the book clubs.”
Beth skims the sheet. “Ooh, a new Kresley Cole is coming out? Order an extra copy for me, please.” Beth hands the sheet back to Erin, who makes a notation on it. “Looks good to me.”
“And accounting has completed the February profit-and-loss statement. Our profits were up twelve percent in February over the same month last year.”
“Wow,” Beth says, genuinely impressed. “Looks like your Valentine’s Day specials really paid off. Good job.”
Erin shrugs. “Oh, it was nothing.”
Beth leans back in her desk chair, one hand absently stroking her growing baby bump. “I told you, you’re a natural at this. You’ll do fine—”
“No, don’t say it!” Erin covers her ears. “You’ll jinx me.”
I laugh. “Erin, you’ll be a great interim manager when Beth goes on maternity leave. Now, stop worrying, or I’ll tell Mack to spank you.”
“Oh, my God, you wouldn’t!” she says, her face turning several shades of pink. Her blue eyes widen. “I mean—oh, my God, he wouldn’t, would he? I mean, that’s a joke, right?” Then she looks pleadingly at Beth. “He’s joking, right?”
“Shall we try it and find out?” I say.
Erin looks utterly appalled.
Beth tries not to laugh as she sends me a mock glare. “Stop teasing her, Sam.”
I shrug and prop my boots up on the coffee table in front of my sofa. “Who knows, she might like it. There’s only way one to find out.”
Beth wads up a piece of paper and lobs it at my head. “Samuel Harrison, you stop right this minute before you give Erin a heart attack.”
Beth looks at the clock. “Oh, I forgot to mention I have to leave a little early today.” She smiles. “I have a date tonight with my hubby. We’re going out for St. Patrick’s Day.”
“I have to leave early, too,” Erin says. “I’m going out tonight with my roommates.”
“That works out well for me too,” I say. “I have a date tonight. Cooper’s taking me out to dinner for my birthday.”
“The big twenty-nine,” Beth says. “Enjoy it while you can. Next year, you’ll join the ranks of the thirty-year-olds.”
Mack pokes his head through the open door. “We need a manager downstairs to deal with a customer complaint.”
Erin sighs. “Oh, I’ll take care of it.” As she walks past Mack, she gives him a wide berth, eyeing him warily.
“What was that all about?” Mack says, watching Erin as she walks away.
Beth points a finger at me. “Sam threatened Erin that you’d spank her. Never mind, it’s a long story. But she was a little worried about it.”
Mack levels me with his gaze. “Really, Sam?”
“You should have seen how she blushed. Honestly, I think she was intrigued by the idea.”
“Do not antagonize her,” Mack says. “I mean it.”
I grin. “Oooh, Mack to the rescue.”
“We’re leaving early tonight,” Beth says to Mack. “All of us—Sam, Erin, and I—we all have plans tonight.”
“Good, because I have plans tonight, too.” Mack points to his T-shirt. “Luck o’ the Irish, green beer, and all that. I’m meeting some guys at the pub tonight. I’ll take off right after you guys do.”
* * *
Beth and I head out at four-thirty, catching a taxi home.
“What time is your date tonight?” she asks me as we ride up in the elevator.
I’m trying not to grin like a fool, but it’s hard. This is the second time Cooper has taken me out on an official date, and I’m excited. “Six o’clock.”
Beth nudges me with her elbow. “I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun.”
Shane’s waiting for Beth as we step out of the elevator. “Let’
s go, sweetheart,” he says to her, checking his Rolex. “We don’t want to be late for our reservation.”
“Just give me five minutes to freshen up,” she says, rushing down the hall to their suite.
Then he looks at me. “So, Cooper tells me you guys have plans tonight, too.”
“Yeah. He’s taking me out for my birthday.”
Shane gives me an approving nod. “Things seem to be going well for you two.”
I smile. “I think he’s starting to get used to this boyfriend-slash-dating thing.”
Beth comes rushing back, breathless, as she slips on her sandals. She changed her outfit and brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders, and added a touch of lip gloss. She kisses me on the cheek.
As Shane pulls her into the elevator, she waves at me. “Have fun on your date tonight!”
It’s not quite five o’clock yet, and our reservation isn’t until six, so we have a little bit of time to kill. I head to our suite and find Cooper in the shower. That is just way too much temptation for me to resist. Besides, it’s my birthday.
Cooper laughs as I strip down in record time and climb into the shower with him, wrapping my arms around his wet, sexy body. He’s in the process of soaping himself, so I add my two hands to the mix and spread soap suds across his broad chest, over his shoulders, and down his arms. Then I lean in and kiss him, smacking my lips playfully against his.
He smiles at me. “You’re in a good mood this evening.”
“Damn right I am. It’s my birthday, and I’m going out with my favorite guy this evening. What’s there not to like?”
Cooper pulls me into his arms, and we’re standing chest to chest, the soap suds making our bodies slide against each other. Every time his nipples brush mine—or more specifically brush my nipple piercings—my knees go weak. When he flutters his tongue against one of the barbells, I sag against him. “So not fair,” I moan.
He laughs, then gives me a deep, luscious kiss. “Let’s finish getting ready. Our dinner awaits.”
Half an hour later, we’re both dressed and ready to go. Cooper surprises me by dressing up in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black leather jacket.
“Is this a dressy place?” I ask him.