by Bonnie Vanak
At her smile, Cooper actually flushed. “Mom...”
“Do you need anything here? Fresh sheets, linens...” Fiona’s eyes glinted. “Or perhaps bubble bath? There’s a lovely claw-foot tub on the second floor. Very romantic.”
“Meg’s fine on the first floor,” Cooper interjected. “She’s already settled. I’m going to train her dog.”
“I hope Sophie won’t be a problem at the farm,” Meg told her. “When Cooper doesn’t have her, I’ll keep her with me at all times so she won’t bother the other guests. I was planning to find other lodging as soon as my car is ready.”
“No problem,” Cooper and Fiona said at the same time.
“What are your plans for today?” Fiona asked.
“I’m taking her into town to buy some boots and warm clothing, as soon as I finish feeding the animals and fixing that fence post,” Cooper said.
The other woman’s gaze sharpened. “Hank can take care of that. Long as you’re in town, why don’t you two have lunch at Minute Man Diner?”
Cooper glanced at Meg. “Sounds good.”
“I don’t want to be a bother,” Meg started.
“No bother,” Fiona told her. “I can handle things around here with the staff. Later, you can move up to the inn, if you like. Breakfast at the inn is from seven to nine-thirty. Don’t forget.”
His mother wagged her fingers in a goodbye gesture and set off toward the inn.
Meg glanced at the still-flushed Cooper. “She’s always trying to set me up,” he muttered. “God love her.”
They went inside and Cooper set the muffins on the kitchen counter and then set about making coffee. Then he grabbed a muffin out of the basket and bit into it, moaning, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face. Meg had a naughty image flash through her mind—Cooper with the same expression, only naked as he moved atop her, all strength and smoothness, those muscles rippling as he flexed deep inside her in a bout of long, slow lovemaking. The kind of tender, explosive love she’d always longed to experience.
Dismissing the thought, hoping he’d blame the flush on her cheeks from the cold, she looked at the treats.
“Wow, these are amazing. I sure miss her cooking when I’m gone,” Cooper told her.
She took a bite of muffin and agreed. Fiona was a superb baker.
Cooper fetched two mugs of coffee and poured a fresh bowl of water for Sophie. Meg added sugar to her coffee and joined him at the table. She sipped the coffee and coughed.
“Too powerful?” he asked with a knowing grin.
“A little.” She went to the fridge and found milk, adding it to her cup. “Your mom must have missed you a lot while you were gone.”
He nodded. “But she knew how much it meant to me to join the teams, and she was real proud when I got my Budweiser, my pin.”
“What kind of qualifications do you need to become a Navy SEAL? Do you dive all the time? Lacey told me Jarrett is an expert diver.”
“Diving is a big part of SEAL training. I like diving in the Caribbean for fun, but I grew up around here and learned to dive in the lakes. They’re pretty cold and murky, so I was prepared for BUD/S.”
At her confused look, he added, “Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL, the training you go through to become a Navy SEAL. We also have specialties. Mine was radio communications and working with dogs.”
“You have a real affinity for animals,” she told him. “Sophie usually doesn’t like men.”
“I’m better with animals than people.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I’ve had women in my life, but nothing long-term. I specialize in short-term. I’m warning you that even though my mom knows you’re my assignment with Project SOS, every time she sees me in the company of a woman, she starts planning my wedding.”
Meg tilted her head. “So that’s the sound I heard when she brought over the muffins.”
“What sound?”
“Wedding bells.” She grinned and he gave a self-conscious laugh.
A dull flush covered his cheeks. “She’s been trying to fix me up for years and says she’s getting older and wants grandchildren. I told her to nag Derek, my older brother, if she wants grandkids. Most of my relationships have been pretty short. Women don’t like that I am constantly gone, or knowing I might not return.”
Meg felt a tinge of sympathy for Cooper, leaving on a deployment with no one to wish him goodbye, no one but his family to think about him while he was gone.
“So that remark about ‘What’s your name again’ is really the truth, huh?” she teased.
“It has happened.” He gave her a steady look. “Not saying it feels good, because I know then that my date just wanted to spend the night because I’m a SEAL. Usually I avoid the groupies who hang at the bars near the base, but sometimes after a deployment, a guy just needs to blow off steam and find someone who wants him, even if it’s only for a night of sex.”
Such honesty. Against her better judgment, she found herself liking him more. And the tender regard he had for his mother, worrying about her welfare, was worlds apart from someone like Prescott, who cared only for his own needs.
“About what I said earlier...” She raised her face to his. “I am sorry for asking it. I’m not a fan of guns. My brother died in combat and my grandfather was shot to death when I was only eight. His hunting partner accidentally killed him after getting drunk while they were tracking a buck. After, Gran threw out all the liquor in the house and got rid of all the guns. I never saw another one again until I married Prescott. He had a collection.”
Quiet blue eyes assessed her thoughtfully. “And you were afraid he might use one of his weapons on you some day.”
Meg hugged herself. “He never got violent when Gran was present. I was too ashamed to tell her what Prescott did. She thought he was terrific because he helped to save the company. When she died, I hoped I’d be free of him. But she left him everything in her will. The company’s future was more important to her. It was devastating because she left me vulnerable. And penniless.”
Cooper’s mouth flattened. “I’m beginning to dislike your ex more and more. Did you hire a lawyer to contest the will?”
“I was more concerned with finding a good divorce attorney.” She licked her lips. “I’m not helpless. With all his late-night meetings, I figured Prescott had a little something-something on the side so I hired a PI to find out.”
“Good,” he said softly.
“He showed me grainy photos of some brunette kissing Prescott. They were pretty far away, but I had enough grounds to file for divorce.”
He gently touched her arm. “Prescott’s answer to being served with the papers was to do this to you.”
Shame crept through her. “He told me he could have all the mistresses he wanted, but I would always be his wife. If I tried to leave, I would wake up one morning with my arms and legs broken and Sophie would have a bullet in her head. So I...did what I had to do.”
Emotion clogged her throat, but she pushed on, wanting this man to understand why she did what she did. Even Lacey didn’t know the extent of it. Meg had been too ashamed to say much, but Cooper had a way of disarming her and making her open up.
“I hated being with him. I had to pretend around him all the time, smile like an obedient doll, while inside I screamed.”
She saw a tensile change in his body, how he went from being loose and relaxed to alert and rigid. Jaw grinding, he dropped his hand.
“No wonder you dislike guns.” He looked around the kitchen. “I made a promise to LT, Jarrett, that I would protect you from all harm, and I intend to keep that promise as long as you are under my watch.”
Such quiet assurance. After two years of constantly watching over her shoulder, fearing her husband would explode into a tirade, this kind of vigilance felt comforting.
&
nbsp; “Thank you, Cooper. I mean it.”
He nodded. “We’ll work on your alias and your new identity. It’ll take days to get the right documents. But when we go into town, I’ll introduce you as your new name. Megan Conners.”
Not much different from her real first name. “I thought I’d be something more exotic like Bunny or Buffy. Or how about Billy Jo? I can fake a Southern accent.”
He didn’t smile at her little joke. “First rule in black ops is blending in. Easier to have a new first name like your old one, so if someone calls you by your old name and you turn around, your cover isn’t blown.”
He looked deadly serious. Gone was the smiling, friendly man who teased her about shoes. In his intense expression she saw a glimpse of the warrior he must be.
“Megan Conners.” It rolled easily off her tongue.
Cooper polished off his muffin and stood. “I’m grabbing a shower first because I have to look after the horses, Hank or no Hank. Stay here, relax, and we’ll head into town in a couple of hours. There’s a whole bookcase filled with paperbacks if you like to read, and the fridge is filled with food. I advise you to wait a good half an hour to shower after I’m done unless you like ice water. The heater is a little finicky in this cottage.”
“I like hot showers, thank you very much.”
She watched him walk away. For such a big guy, he was quiet. Soon, sounds of the shower upstairs began. Meg shivered, not from the cold, but thinking about his large, naked body beneath the spray, those tantalizing abs rippling as the water beaded against his skin, slowly trickling down to his...
“Stop it,” she said aloud. “He’s off-limits.”
Taking another muffin back to her room, she fed small bits to Sophie. Meg ruminated over what Randall told her.
The microchip with the documents was close to her heart. She glanced down at her heart-shaped necklace. Randall had been to the house many times; was it possible...? Excitement hummed through her as she removed the necklace and found a nail file. Meg pried the diamond away from the setting.
Nothing. She put both away into her suitcase, trying to keep her spirits up. Perhaps the numbers would prove more useful. They must be a combination to a lockbox somewhere on Randall’s property.
She studied the paper with the numbers. What if they weren’t a pass code to a lockbox in his house, but something else? Randall was fastidious with his work. He wouldn’t hide something as valuable as documents in something as obvious and accessible as a safe.
Powering up her Mac laptop, she accessed the cottage’s Wi-Fi. Meg typed up the numbers, and sighed as random websites sprang into view. It made no sense.
She solved problems best when her mind was otherwise occupied. Meg surfed the internet news sites, glad to see another article about how federal authorities were investigating Combat Gear Inc. for manufacturing faulty body armor.
Prescott would be infuriated if he knew who had made that call to the authorities...
Shivering, she powered down the laptop. She needed to find those documents before she ended up like Randall.
* * *
Cooper drove her in his black Ford pickup to downtown New Falls. They parked in front of a flower shop and went into a department store so she could purchase two sweaters, a good pair of jeans and a warm jacket. Cooper wanted to buy them, but she insisted on paying for them herself, though the purchases severely dented her supply of cash.
Next, they walked to a shoe store a few doors down.
When they entered the shop, the cozy smell of fresh leather and shoe polish hit her nostrils.
A balding man with a slight paunch and a gold band on his left hand scurried over to greet them. “Coop! I heard you were in town. How long you home for, Coop?”
“Long enough, Roy.”
Roy looked at Meg with interest. “So you need new shoes?”
Meg frowned. “How did you know?”
“Small town.” Roy chuckled. “Lucy at the general store called and told me you were shopping for shoes.”
“She needs work boots,” Cooper said.
She was grateful he didn’t introduce her. The less attention paid to her, the better.
“Work boots?” Roy’s brown gaze lit with interest. “You’re new around here? Just start working at the farm?”
Okay, not getting around this fishing expedition. Meg stuck out her palm. “Megan Conners. A pleasure to meet you.”
Roy’s hand was slick with sweat, and she quickly withdrew her hand. So different from Cooper’s warm, firm handshake.
“She’s staying at the inn,” Cooper said smoothly. “About those boots, Roy. I know you stock them. Leather, brown, steel toe’s best around the farm animals.”
“But something I can wear off the farm as well,” Meg added. “With nice stitching that’s decorative.”
Cooper grinned at her. “Ever the fashion princess.”
The clerk pointed to a row of boots on display against the wall. “Pick out something you like and I’ll get them from the back.”
He joined them at the display. This man made the hairs on her nape stand up. There was nothing overt in his behavior, and Cooper knew him, but her instincts fired up.
She chose two pairs of boots. “Size six, please.”
Cooper turned his attention to the men’s shoes. “Say, Roy, anyone come in here lately and purchase a pair of size 14 men’s flat-soled shoes?”
The salesclerk raised his brows. “Not that I know of. No one I know has feet that big, except Hank, and I special order for his clodhoppers when he needs them. I never stock size 14.”
Hank. The hired man. Meg wondered if it was Hank who spied on her last night.
As Roy disappeared into the stockroom, she sat in one of the chairs.
As she started to pull the suede boot free, he shook his head and swept a low bow.
“Allow me, madam.”
Kneeling at her feet, he tugged off her boots. Meg wriggled her toes in the cotton socks.
Then Cooper examined her feet, pressing each toe with his thumb and forefinger.
“What are you doing? Making sure none of them fell off from frostbite?” she asked in amusement.
“Giving you a massage to circulate the blood. I’m real good with my hands, Princess.” He winked.
He massaged her toes, and the feel of his big, rough hands made her bite back a moan. It had been a long time since anyone paid this much attention to her.
The right kind of attention, anyway.
When Roy returned, Cooper was all business. He refused to let Roy aid her in trying on the boots and helped her tug them on. She chose a pair of sturdy leather boots with a pretty Western stitch pattern and square steel toes. They were comfortable and soft, and they fit perfectly.
Then she looked at the price tag. Meg turned her head to see the nosy Roy lingering at a display stand close by. “Three hundred dollars?” she whispered. “That’s too much money.”
Cooper shrugged. “I’ll pay for them.” When she protested, he shook his head. “You’re my girl now, Megan,” he said in a strong voice, loud enough for Roy to overhear. “I always take care of my own.”
A pleasant shiver went through her.
“You’ll need a good pair of sneakers as well. Something good for running.”
Meg frowned. “Running?”
“When I chase you around the bedroom, darling.”
A heated flush ignited her body. Cooper winked, the act all plainly for show for the overbearing and too-curious shoe salesman, but her sorely neglected libido perked up at the image of Cooper catching her in the bedroom and the delicious price she’d pay for being caught.
In the end, she chose a pair of less expensive sneakers. Roy took the boots and the sneakers into the back room to find the right boxes to w
rap her purchases.
At the cash register, Cooper gave Roy his credit card. Cooper was playing the part, of course, but the possessive note in his voice clearly warned off the other man. She wondered what it would feel like to really belong to a man like Cooper Johnson, who seemed extremely protective of his family and his privacy.
Wearing her new boots, she walked with him to the Minute Man Diner. A little silver bell tinkled over the glass door as they walked inside. There were two men at the counter, but other than that, the café was empty.
Behind the counter, a woman in a teal uniform and a white apron waved at him.
“Hey, Coop!” she called out. “Good to see you.”
He lifted a hand in casual greeting. “Hi, Jackie. You serving lunch yet?”
“Sure thing.” She put a hand over her heart and fluttered her eyelashes. “For you, darling, it’s lunch all day long.”
He laughed. “Don’t flatter me, Jackie. You know you’re taken.”
They slid into a booth at the back, Cooper sitting with his back to the wall, looking over the café. Posture erect, gaze alert, he was relaxed, yet she sensed this man never fully relaxed except at home.
Jackie brought over two glasses of water and they ordered the special: chicken potpie with salad.
The waitress smiled at her. She had iron-gray hair, leathery skin and a friendly air. “You’re new in town,” she told Meg. “Staying at the inn?”
Cooper slid a hand across the table and covered her palm. “This is Megan, my new love. Sorry to break your heart, Jackie.”
His new love? Good cover story, but could they pull it off? Certainly Cooper’s hand over hers felt reassuring and real, even if it was only playacting. She wasn’t certain how she felt about this. She liked Cooper, and felt attracted to him, but she’d suffered through too much of Prescott’s beatings to even think about another man in her life.
She barely had met the man, yet he seemed rock steady and had a charisma that naturally attracted her. Her female parts tingled at the subtle pressure of his hand.