“Another?” I lifted the empty glass.
He hesitated and then shook his head. “No, thanks. Maybe just a beer. How about that local one that Logan’s been raving about?”
I bent again to the fridge, as I had a little while before, and once again, I felt eyes on my ass. This time I didn’t have any desire to cover it. I took off the cap and set the bottle in front of Cooper before leaning back and crossing my arms over my chest.
“So I think you’re right to be pissed. Cooper, you’re an artist. What you do . . . how you make those things of beauty out of wood . . . it blows my mind. You have the kind of gift that people need to respect. If you tell a client that she needs to scrap her design and listen to you, she should. I mean, if I could do what you can, I think I’d go around all the time telling people to kiss my ass and take what I choose to give them.”
Cooper laughed, but I caught the gleam of pleasure in his eye. “Jude and Logan would tell you not to encourage me. They say I’m too prickly as it is.” He tipped the beer back, taking a healthy pull, and I watched the column of his throat move up and down. He had just the barest hint of beard there, under his jaw, as though he’d forgotten to shave that part of his face. It made him look dangerous.
“You’re not. You’re just selective about who you want to work with. There’s a difference. Like I said, artists have that prerogative.”
He stared at me, those blue eyes delving into my head. “Emmy, don’t sell yourself short. You’re an artist too, you know. I’ve tasted your pies. Those crusts are incredible.”
I rolled my eyes. “Pie crusts are fleeting. They’re nothing but flour and water. And of course a few secret ingredients that I can’t share or I’d have to kill you.” I grinned. “But they’re hardly art. I make them, people eat them . . . and they’re forgotten. What you make can survive for generations. It’s lasting.”
He didn’t answer me right away, but he didn’t drop his eyes from mine either. I stood for a few minutes in silence until someone called me from down the bar. I got caught up with cashing out a few checks, taking a few more orders and filling some drink requests from the waitresses circulating on the floor. I almost expected Cooper to be gone by the time I got back to him; on the rare occasions he came in during weekend evenings, he seldom stayed for more than one drink.
But he was still there when I made my way back. And his eyes were still trained on me.
“What time do you get off, Emmy?” It was the same question the irritating customer had asked me over an hour before, but coming from Cooper, it ignited the spread of unfamiliar warmth down my center.
“A little after midnight or so. Maybe a tad later, depending on how the crowd is. It’s usually worse on Saturday nights, with the bands here. Gritt finishes his shift at eleven-thirty, so people usually take off after that.” I was babbling, and that was so not like me. Once my mouth stopped moving, my leg began jiggling. I was pretty sure Cooper couldn’t see it from where he sat, but he might start to wonder why it looked like I was convulsing. I pushed off the counter and picked up his empty beer bottle. “Can I get you anything else?”
He seemed to be considering that question as though it had great importance. Finally, he shook his head. “Can I just get some ice water? And maybe a plate of fries if you’ve got some to spare?”
“Sure.” I filled a clean tumbler with ice and water, added a lemon wedge and stepped into the kitchen to plate some of the last batch of fries Carey’d just pulled from the oil.
“You guys can turn off the fryer and clean up. We won’t have any more food orders tonight, I don’t think.” It was a little after eleven, and the crowd was already thinning a bit.
“Gotcha.” Aaron was already loading the dishwasher. Carey moved around the kitchen, flipping switches to turn off all the appliances still running.
I carried the fries to Cooper and hunted on the shelf under the bar for a bottle of barbecue sauce that I set down next to the plate. He cocked his head.
“You knew about the scotch. And now the barbecue sauce. How did you know that’s what I eat with my fries?”
I hoped my face wasn’t turning red. “I’m gifted at remembering customers’ preferences. It’s part of the bartender code. I can’t tell you anything else, or again, I’d have to kill you.”
Cooper laughed. “Like with the pie crust recipe? You, Emmy Carter, are a woman of many secrets.”
Now I was certain I was blushing. “Yep, that’s me. Woman of mystery.”
He picked up one fry and dragged it through a puddle of barbecue sauce. “Tell me, woman of mystery, where are your kids tonight?”
My heart thudded against my ribcage, but I kept my voice cool. “They spend the weekends with my mom and dad. I dropped them off after school today, and I’ll pick them up Sunday morning when I wake up.”
Cooper nodded. “It’s great that you have your folks to help.”
“Yeah.” I couldn’t agree more. “I never would’ve made it this far without them. Well, and Jude and Daniel.”
“Bullshit, Em.” Cooper’s words were heated, but his tone was mild. “You pull your own weight. I’ve seen it. Yeah, you’ve had some people give you a hand, but you’d have made it even without that. You’re strong.”
I blinked back an unexpected rise of moisture in my eyes. I never cried. It was a weakness I couldn’t afford. “Maybe. But I’m glad I never had to test that theory yet.” I wiped the bar down, careful to keep my focus on the rag. “Why’d you want to know about the kids? Were you going to call child protective services on me if I’d left them at home to fend for themselves?”
“No.” Cooper spoke low, and I stopped moving so that I could hear him. “I wanted to know if your house was empty. And if maybe . . . you’d like some company after you finish here.”
My mouth went dry, and my knees began to shake. I started moving the rag again, but I wasn’t really seeing what I was doing. “I, um . . .” As inspired responses went, it was pretty lame.
“Emmy, saying no is perfectly acceptable.” He reached toward my arm, his fingers stopping just short of touching me.
“I know that.” I jerked up my chin to look at him. “I don’t want to say no. It’s just that I’ve been saying no for so long, I’ve kind of forgotten how to say yes.”
A slow smile spread over Cooper’s face. “I think you just did.”
The waitresses and the busboy all left almost as soon as I’d locked the door behind the last departing customer. They paused only to pool and divide their tips, making sure that Aaron and Carey got their share, too. Once all the money had been recorded and distributed, the two cooks tossed their aprons into the laundry barrel and said good-night, too.
I noticed that Aaron’s eyes lingered on Cooper where he still sat on the barstool, waiting for me. But he didn’t say anything as he held the door for Carey and disappeared into the dark.
“What do you need to do to close up? How can I help?” Cooper stood and stretched, and his T-shirt rode up a little, giving me a tantalizing tease of the tan skin on his stomach. A well of want bubbled within me. Down, girl. I closed my eyes. At least until we get home. Don’t want to jump his bones in the restaurant.
“I just need to make sure everything’s turned off in the kitchen. Carey and Aaron are usually dependable about doing it, but a third set of eyes never hurts. Then I have to run a register report and lock up the money, do one more walk-through, turn on the safety lights and the alarm, turn off the regular lights and lock up behind me.” I grinned. “Now you know all the secrets of shutting down the Tide.”
Cooper pressed one hand to his heart. “It’ll go with me to the grave. And don’t worry, you still have plenty of other mysteries to hide from me, if you count the pie crust and the bartenders’ code.” He cast a glance around the empty restaurant. “How about I do the kitchen check and walk-through while you take care of the register? I’ll meet you at the door in ten minutes.”
“That works.”
I went th
rough my routine, conscious at every turn that Cooper was nearby, moving with the typical grace that somehow only made him more masculine. He whistled under his breath, touching the grills and leaning over the deep fryers to check for residual heat. I tried to concentrate on setting up the register report and bagging the cash to put into the safe. Jude would send it to the bank first thing in the morning; we’d decided a long time ago that it wasn’t safe for me make night deposits by myself.
“Found this in one of the chairs.” Cooper leaned against the bar, dangling a small pink purse from one finger. “And this in the ladies’ room.” He brought his other hand up. A black high heel rested on the palm.
“Oh, yeah.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Can you toss the shoe into the lost and found box under the counter? I’ll check the bag for ID.”
“Don’t bother. I already did, and it only has some play money and crayons. Reminds of something Lex had when she was little.”
“Ah, okay. Lost and found then. I bet it belongs to Shana Hayes’ little girl. They were in tonight for dinner.”
Cooper came behind the bar with me and pulled out the crate that held a bunch of mismatched objects. He dropped the shoe and the purse into it and then reached back in, frowning. “Hey, this is my hat. I’ve been looking for it.” He held up a bright green baseball cap that had clearly seen better days.
I rested my hip against the counter. “Do you have any proof that’s yours, sir? I mean, we can’t just let people take whatever they want willy-nilly from our lost and found box. Maybe that belongs to someone else.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “This is my favorite working hat. I’ve got pictures of me wearing it.”
I stepped a little closer. “You have them on you?”
One side of Cooper’s mouth quirked up. “Nope. But you’re welcome to search me.”
“I might.” I slid along the bar until I stood just inches from him. “But not here. I need to close up . . . and I promise you, my house is much more comfortable than the bar.”
His eyes fastened on me, fathomless and unreadable. “I’m willing to trust you. But maybe both of us could use a taste. Just to whet our appetites.”
I was pretty sure my appetite was already incredibly whetted, but I didn’t move. Cooper raised one hand to the side of my neck, touching the warm skin that was damp from a solid eight hours of moving around the bar. He curled his fingers, putting just the slightest bit of pressure at the base of my head. His thumb stroked beneath my jaw, and I shivered.
His lips twitched, but he didn’t speak. He stared into my eyes for a moment before dropping his gaze to my mouth. Instinct kicked in, and my tongue shot out to run over my bottom lip.
Cooper raised one eyebrow as he watched me. When I didn’t look away, he lowered his face toward mine and brushed my mouth with a touch so light I might’ve thought I’d imagined it. My eyes drifted partway down as he leaned closer, his lips nibbling at the corner of mine. I held my breath, just waiting for him to make the final shift to take my mouth.
But Cooper wasn’t in any hurry, apparently. He moved to the other corner of my lips before he feathered another light caress over them. Just when I thought I might go completely crazy with wanting, he dropped one hand to my lower back, pressing me against his body, and gripped my chin with the other hand. I raised my eyelids just enough to see the blaze of want on his face before he consumed me.
This time, this kiss . . . there was nothing light or fleeting about it. Cooper’s mouth so utterly took over mine that I couldn’t feel where I ended and he began. His lips were firm and insistent, and when he tugged on my chin, I opened my lips without hesitation. A small sigh that ended in a groan escaped without me even realizing it came from my throat. My hands rested on his chest, between us, and I felt his heart pounding under my palm.
His tongue stroked over me, teasing, testing, and then bolder. He traced the outline of my lips before sucking the lower one between his teeth, biting gently. The hand on my back urged me even closer to him as his tongue made enticing plunges into my mouth, leaving no part of me untouched.
“Emmy.” Cooper leaned his forehead against mine, his breath warm and rapid over my face as he murmured my name. “If we don’t leave now for your house, I’m going to suggest we make use of that apartment upstairs. And I really don’t want to do that.”
“I just need to set the alarm and lock up.” My hand closed on his shirt, gripping it to keep from falling over. “You should go out first, and then I’ll be right behind you.”
“Okay.” He kissed me once more, hard and fast, before he let go of my back and my neck. I focused on not staggering as I turned around to punch numbers into the keypad for the alarm.
“Four-eight-seven-three.” I said the numbers out loud as I typed them onto the pad, mostly to keep myself from jumping up and down and screaming, Cooper Davis just kissed me!
When the light began to blink its countdown, I slung my handbag over my shoulder and went outside, slamming the door behind me to make sure it was secure. Cooper stood at the bottom of the two steps that led from the parking lot to the door, and I hoped he didn’t notice how my fingers shook while I locked the deadbolt.
“I’ll just follow you home, if that’s all right.” He leaned against the railing of the steps.
“That makes sense.” I nodded. “Do you . . . know where I live? Just in case you lose me?”
He grinned and raised up on one step, close enough to me that I could make out his intoxicating scent: sawdust, along with something that was even more uniquely Cooper.
“Yeah, I know where you live, Emmy. But even if not . . .” He glanced over his shoulder at the empty streets behind us. “I think I can manage to tail you this time of night.” He reached up with one finger and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and when he spoke again, his voice was low. “Don’t worry, I would never lose you.”
Parts of my body that had been neglected for way too long began to stir to life again, and I wondered what he’d do if I pulled him to ground right there in the Riptide’s parking lot.
Hold it together, woman. You can do better than that. Play it cool.
I attempted a laugh, something light that would make Cooper think I was used to this kind of hook-up—not that I was, and I definitely didn’t want him to think I was a slut. I just needed to seem more sophisticated than I really was. Not plain old Emmy Carter who’d never left her home state and probably never would.
But the laugh ended up more like a breathless giggle. I covered by hiking my purse higher on my shoulder and jingling my car keys. “Okay. Good. I’ll see you there in a few minutes then.”
Cooper stood aside to let me pass, but as I walked to my van, I realized he hadn’t moved toward his car. Instead, he watched me until I’d unlocked the door and climbed into the car. Only then did he push off the step and head to his Jeep.
I started up the van and maneuvered slowly to the exit of the lot, watching in my rear view mirror until Cooper’s headlights shone behind me. Turning right, away from the ocean, I focused on keeping my speed a happy medium: not so fast that I’d seem like I was too eager to get home and not so slow that he’d think I was an old lady driver.
With the season not quite underway, the roads really were deserted this time of night. I always liked my ride home; it gave me the perfect amount of time to unwind from the intensity and busyness of the restaurant, so that by the time I pulled into my own driveway, I was ready for a glass of wine, a half hour of mindless television comedy and then my bed.
Tonight, though, nerves jumped in my stomach, and my hands were sweaty on the steering wheel, all because Cooper Davis was driving behind me. Cooper Davis was following me home. Cooper Davis had asked if he could come home with me, and if I’d had any doubts about what that meant, he’d wiped them all away when he’d kissed me in the restaurant.
I didn’t make a practice of bringing home guys. To be completely honest, I’d never done it. There just wasn’t enough time or energy
in my life to complicate it with men or even random sex. Between my kids, my parents, the house, my pie-making business and the hours at the Riptide, sex had fallen far down on my priority list. It was somewhere below meaningful adult conversation, which was something else that didn’t happen often.
Now that I thought about it, that was just sad.
But tonight I was breaking my rules, because, well . . . Cooper Davis.
We’d both grown up in the Cove, so of course I’d known him all my life. Cooper and his friends were all older than me, though, so he wasn’t really on my radar until I was in eighth grade. During the last week of school that June, our whole class had gone over to the high school for our orientation. We were supposed to learn how to navigate the bigger building, familiarize ourselves with the brand-new lockers and get an idea of what the next four years would hold.
We were split into groups for a tour of the school, but somehow, I got separated from mine when I stopped to get a drink at the water fountain. One minute they were all there, as our student guide bubbled enthusiastically about all the extracurricular activities Crystal Cove High would offer us, and the next minute, when I looked up from the water, dabbing at my face with the sleeve of my sweater (the high school was air-conditioned, so we’d all been warned to dress accordingly), they were gone. Vanished into thin air.
I wandered the hallways, peeking into classrooms and darting away fast so that no one spotted me and asked what I was doing. Our junior high teachers had put the fear of God into us about punishment in high school, and I could just see it now, printed on my permanent record: Got lost and walked hallways without supervision.
Retracing my steps seemed like the best idea. I was pretty sure we were all supposed to end up in the school gym, which was close to the front doors. If I could make it back there, maybe I could skulk until another group passed, and then just join them.
I turned the corner into the hallway I’d just come from and ran smack into a hard body.
The Plan Page 2