Cooper's Charm

by Lori Foster

  A jerk with his own history, Phoenix was thinking, but instead of saying so, she pointed out the obvious. “You were awfully quiet over dinner, too.”

  “I was annoyed. Know the difference.”

  Oh, she knew the difference—because she did know her sister. Nine times out of ten, when offended, Ridley went for the jugular. With Baxter, she’d withdrawn.

  Her sister was in deeper than she wanted to admit, but Phoenix let her off the hook, saying, “We’re a pitiful pair, aren’t we?”

  “Not you.” Ridley took her hand again, lunging into the switch in topic. “Look at all the changes you’ve made! I’m so proud of you, Phoenix. So damn proud.”

  Her sister’s praise only reminded her of how badly she’d reacted earlier. “There’s no reason to be proud, believe me.” She told Ridley everything that had happened at the creek—including how memories had glued her feet to the ground and muddled her thoughts, how she was useless and didn’t do a damn thing to help.

  “Oh, my God,” Ridley groaned theatrically. “That’s such a load of crap and you know it.” Sitting up in a rush, she poked Phoenix in the stomach.

  “Omph. Hey!”

  “You deserved that poke!” She started to do it again.

  Phoenix quickly rolled out of the way, coming up with her pillow as a weapon. “Stop it!”

  “No, you stop with the melodramatic self-recrimination.”

  “Melodramatic?” Phoenix gasped.

  “It’s ridiculous! I’ve never been attacked, but I know I would have been just as cautious under the circumstances. You’re not Superwoman, you know, so give yourself a break already.”

  Her frown faded as she realized that Ridley’s argument was very similar to Cooper’s. “What if Cooper hadn’t been there?”

  “I hope you’d have had enough sense not to confront the men!”

  Sense had nothing to do with it. It was all about fear. “So I should have just left that poor dog to—”

  “No,” Ridley said with impatience. “You call for backup instead. What good would it do the dog if you both got hurt? And that’s probably what would’ve happened if you’d done things any differently.”

  She had a point. “The problem is that I’m not sure I could have thought that clearly, I was so terrified.”

  “With good reason. But look how far you’ve come.” This time Ridley stroked her hair. “I see a world of difference, even if you don’t. You’re here in this crowded resort, mingling every day. You’re actually planning wild sex with Big Sexy.”

  “I didn’t say it would be wild.”

  “And you’re arguing with me!” Ridley threw out her arms. “You’re well on your way, so stop rushing yourself. Even Amazons need time to heal.”

  Phoenix didn’t know what she was talking about with Amazons, but she felt like she had made progress, so perhaps she should give herself a break. “You’re a pretty awesome big sister, you know?”

  “Yeah, I am. You definitely got lucky in the sister department.” She grinned, her teeth showing white in the dim light. “But then so did I.”

  A yawn interrupted Phoenix’s smile. Finally her brain was as tired as her body. “Maybe we can solve our man problems tomorrow.”

  “For sure we won’t figure it out tonight.” Ridley stretched out on her back and pulled a sheet to her waist. “Good night, Phoenix.”

  “Night.” With most of her remorse lifted, Phoenix closed her eyes...and thought of Cooper.

  It was a nice way to fall asleep.

  * * *

  The impromptu dinner had helped to curb Coop’s simmering anger. Having Phoenix at his table, seeing her relaxed, knowing she enjoyed playing matchmaker, had all reassured him that she was okay—no doubt still berating herself, but he’d eventually get her over that.

  He wasn’t sure if Baxter or Ridley had realized her intentions, but he’d caught on right away when he noticed how she watched the pair. It amused him, seeing this other facet to her personality.

  Through her actions, Phoenix had made it clear that she felt part ownership of the dog, but Coop wasn’t sure how that would work. Was she ready for that type of relationship, where they shared a mutual responsibility?

  Was he?

  He wanted her, yes—wanted her sexually, wanted her happy, wanted her to feel secure. But beyond that...it’d be such a big step for both of them, a step that could lead to more.

  He feared he was already on the way to that, so it could be a moot point.

  He’d wanted Phoenix to maintain that happier mood during dinner, not dredge up the conflict again by calling the cops in front of her. Because of that, he’d waited until everyone left before notifying the local police.

  The timing worked out, actually. He reached one of the men he knew, Officer Gibb Clark, who worked evenings. Coop explained to Gibb what had happened, and the arrangements he’d made to meet with the men tomorrow.

  Not surprisingly, based on Coop’s descriptions, and where the conflict took place, Gibb felt sure he knew the men.

  “Picking on a mutt sounds like their MO,” Gibb said. “I’ll go by there tonight to see if any of them are still out and about, and if so, I’ll talk with them. As to them coming by to see you tomorrow, I don’t see that happening.”

  “I had the same thought,” Coop said. “Seems more likely they’ll show up at night to cause trouble.”

  “Afraid so. Let me know if anything happens, and I’ll be out tomorrow just in case they show.”

  Coop thought about Phoenix and her sister in the cabin alone. He knew Phoenix locked up every night. Besides, with all the cabins, tents, RVs and fifth wheels, the bastards would have no idea where she was.

  He’d paced the kitchen as he talked to Gibb, the dog trotting along behind him. Whenever he stopped, the dog sat, her eyes alert in expectation. It was like having a shadow...with a tongue that hung out and a butt that constantly wiggled.

  When he finished the call, he replaced the phone on the desk and turned to look down at her. She jumped to her feet, ears up.

  “Ready for bed?”

  The question earned him a bark, then she ran three tight circles—looking far from tired.

  “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.” Coop fetched an old blanket and put it in the corner of the kitchen opposite the food and water dish, then called her over with a soft whistle.

  Curious, she sprinted to him, ears flopping, butt moving counter to her shoulders. Coop grinned. She really was a cute little thing.

  He gestured at the temporary bed. “What do you think?”

  She sniffed the blanket, looked at Coop and waited.

  “Sorry, but Phoenix isn’t set up for a dog. Her place is too small and she sleeps in a loft—”

  Rearing back on her haunches, the dog yapped at him.

  Somehow, though it came from a small, adorable pup, that yap felt like a reprimand. “I couldn’t invite her to stay over. Her sister—”

  Another yap.

  Coop sighed, recognizing the ridiculousness of carrying on a one-sided conversation with a dog. “If we’re going to have these talks, you at least need a name.”

  As if she understood, she tipped her head, one ear flopping down, the other cocked in interest.

  Kneeling, he offered a hand for her to sniff. “I’ll have to give it some thought. Before your bath, I would have named you Mud. I’m not sure Phoenix would approve, though.”

  Butt wiggling, the dog crawled into his lap. With a lusty sigh, she put her head over Coop’s forearm, then looked at him with dark, worried eyes.

  “You’ll like it here in the kitchen. It’s cozy and quiet.”

  The dog appeared far from convinced. From her perspective, the large kitchen might seem lonely.

  Coop glanced at the photo of his wife on the desk area. So often, Anna’s
image had kept him company while he worked on accounts, paid bills or researched equipment or employees. Having her near hadn’t filled the emptiness; to the contrary, it had kept the emptiness fresh, as if he’d wanted it to last.

  In that moment, it struck Coop that the hollow pain he’d learned to live with was no longer quite so hollow, or quite so painful.

  Phoenix, with her smiles, her attitude of determination and her own soft need, had blunted those familiar aches.

  His chest constricted, but with a deep breath that he slowly released, everything inside him loosened. It was as if he’d also released the old rage...and the loneliness.

  The change had happened so slowly that he hadn’t noticed it—and yet so suddenly that it left him reeling with surprise.

  He was different now.

  Whatever happened between Phoenix and him, he’d never go back. Hell, he wasn’t even sure he could go back.

  As he stared at his wife’s smiling image, he smiled, too. He’d kept photos of her everywhere as if by seeing her, she wasn’t really gone. Somewhere along the way they’d become painful reminders of what he’d lost.

  Now, he found the photo soothing, like the whisper of a cherished memory...one that no longer hurt.

  He stroked the dog, saying, “She loved animals.”

  A tiny voice in his head said, So does Phoenix. Hadn’t she rushed to the dog’s rescue? Despite her fear, she hadn’t suggested that they leave.

  No matter what she believed about herself, Coop knew that if he hadn’t been with her, Phoenix would have found a way to save the dog. He just hoped and prayed that, if ever put to the test, she’d know to call for backup before doing anything reckless on her own.

  He’d wanted to talk with her, to explain that the situation had warranted her caution. There was no reason for her to think she’d acted cowardly. In fact, he hoped she would stay cautious.

  But Ridley had shown up with Baxter in tow, and the tension between them had been like a live thing. Every time Baxter had looked at Ridley, sparks flew—even though Ridley refused to look back. Despite the way they’d tried to ignore each other, it was obvious that Phoenix’s call had interrupted their plans.

  Coop would have found it funnier if his own plans hadn’t gone off course.

  He wanted Phoenix, now more than ever, and if it hadn’t been for the dog, he’d probably be in bed with her right now.

  That realization brought its own concerns.

  Her bed was out; Ridley was staying with her and there was only the loft.

  And his bed...

  With another sigh, the dog closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Coop knew it was a pretense because every couple of seconds, she looked up at him—as if to ensure he hadn’t budged.

  One more glance at his wife’s image—and he made a decision.

  “C’mon, girl. Let’s see if you need to do any business before I turn in.” He carried her out, ignoring the idolizing way she licked his chin.

  Since it was dark, he kept a close watch on her after sitting her down. Tomorrow he’d need to get a collar and leash, and he supposed a trip to the vet was in order.

  While the dog sniffed every blade of grass, Coop stared toward Phoenix’s cabin, then around the resort. All was quiet. Security lights lit the grounds, as well as exterior lights on the campers. There were enough guests that no one could be truly isolated.

  Indicating she’d finished, the dog sat on his foot and leaned against his leg.

  Coop scooped her up and they went back inside. He locked the door, then carried the dog to the bed he’d made on the kitchen floor. “Be good,” he told her when she started to follow him.

  She sat back, her eyes huge, somehow conveying worry.

  “It’ll be fine, and soon you’ll prefer sleeping alone.” Hoping she believed him, he turned out the light and went down the hall.

  When he reached his bedroom, he undressed and turned back the bed. There on the nightstand was another photo of his wife. She’d been gone five years now, and there had been times that he’d felt like he’d lived a lifetime without her.

  Tonight was different.

  Because of Phoenix.

  Because what he felt for her was different.

  He picked up the photo, brushing his thumb along the edge of the frame. “I will always love you, Anna.”

  Her image, so serene, gazed back.

  He wanted Phoenix to move on, and because of her, he was ready to do the same.

  He smiled at the photo and slipped it into a drawer.

  The bedroom, he decided, was not a place for dwelling in the past.

  With much on his mind, he turned out the light and stretched out on the bed.

  Seconds later, the dog started howling just outside his door.

  8

  The next morning, while Phoenix inhaled her usual cup of coffee at the camp store, Coop came in, the dog held in one arm. Her ears bounced with each step he took, and she appeared to be smiling as she looked around at everyone and everything.

  Such a happy little dog. Seeing her made Phoenix happy, too.

  She needed a leash, a collar and probably a dozen other things.

  As soon as the pup saw Phoenix, she wriggled to get down. There were very few people in the store this early, so Coop set her on her feet, and she came charging over, her ears blowing back, her frantically wagging tail visible in her whole body.

  “Hello, sugar.” Phoenix crouched down and hugged the dog close, accepting the doggy kisses to her face.

  “Sugar?” Coop asked. “Is that what we’re calling her?”

  One more thing the dog needed: a name. “It was just an endearment.”

  “She is sweet,” Coop said as he considered the dog, then he mumbled, “When I’m not trying to sleep, that is.”

  Uh-oh. “She kept you up?”

  “No, she slept fine—once I let her into the bedroom with me.”

  Picturing that brought a smile to her face. “She slept with you?”

  “In my closet, actually.” Coop gratefully took the cup of coffee that Maris handed to him, thanking her before taking a drink.

  Making a sound of appreciation, he pulled out the chair next to Phoenix and sat. “She refused to sleep in the kitchen, as I originally planned. You should have heard her howling. It was pitiful.”

  “Awww.” Phoenix cuddled the dog closer, then kissed the top of her furry little head.

  “I couldn’t take it.”

  “Of course you couldn’t. Neither could I. I bet she was scared.”

  “After what she’d been through, then coming to an unfamiliar place, I’m sure it was all spooky to her.” He took another drink, then sighed. “Soon as I let her into the room, she ran around all crazy, on the bed, under the bed, into the connected bathroom. She kept going until she found the closet door open enough for her to burrow in.” He shrugged. “She didn’t come back out.”

  Phoenix reseated herself, then lifted the dog into her lap. “She probably had to hide at night, you know?” From cruel men, as well as natural predators. God, how she hated that thought.

  “That’s what I figured.” He reached out to scratch the dog behind the ear. She tipped up her face, let her tongue loll out and half closed her eyes. “I checked to make sure she wasn’t destroying anything, but she was just curled up tight in the corner behind my hanging clothes and a pair of work boots. I don’t think she needed it, but I got the blanket out of the kitchen for her, moved a few things around and let her get comfortable again. She slept there until I got up this morning.”

  Not a bad compromise. “You were tired, weren’t you, sugar?”

  “Let’s hope the good behavior holds out, because I got an early vet appointment for her today.”

  Wow, that was quick. “How’d you manage that?”

  “Small town.�
�� He made a vague hand gesture. “Everyone knows everyone, so the vet is a friend. He fit me in before his regular business hours start.”

  “That’s so nice.” One more way that showed how special a small town could be. Not that she needed another reason to love Cooper’s Charm—after her first week she’d been sold on the place. Now, knowing Cooper so well...

  He reached over and tugged lightly on her ponytail. “While I’m gone, don’t go near the woods, or to any of the more private areas of the property.”

  Well, that sounded ominous. Lifting her brows, she said, “Define private.”

  Though his tone was mild enough, his jaw tightened. “If you have to go to the maintenance building, take someone with you.”

  Incredulity brought out a laugh. “Like who?” Until Ridley had stepped in as housekeeper, they’d been shorthanded. Now they barely broke even on workloads.

  “Just wait for me to get back, and I’ll go with you.”

  The last thing she wanted was another person worrying about her. She had no one but herself to blame, of course, not after how she’d reacted yesterday.

  “Should I point out that there are several campers using the primitive tent area near there?”

  He leaned closer. “I don’t care who’s camping, I don’t want you alone that far from the congested areas.”

  She frowned. Maybe it was more than her reaction that had him concerned. “You expect trouble from those men?”

  “Actually, I don’t.” His hand lifted to her face, curving around her cheek. “But I’m not willing to chance it.”

  Whoa. What he said, how he looked at her while saying it, felt so intimate, it brought a flush to her face. After all the touching and teasing yesterday, she knew they were on the fast track to a sexual relationship. Knew it and anticipated it.

  But she hadn’t expected so much emotional involvement, all the casual public touching and...and the concern. Caring for someone, worrying for them, had nothing to do with uncommitted sex.

  She’d come to Cooper’s Charm to reassert her independence—but could she do that if she immediately fell into a relationship?