Head Over Heels (16 page)

She stopped and stared at him for a moment. Then slowly she reached out.

And firmly shut the door in his face.

“I
DON
'
T
THINK YOU
'
RE
GONNA LIKE THIS
,
SWEETIE
,” Marissa said the next day in her kitchen as she handed Veronica a cup of tea and took the stool next to her at the breakfast bar. “But if Coop is Eddie's brother, I can almost see why he kept it to himself.”

“How can you say that?” Veronica had come to her friend for comfort, but instead felt betrayed all over again. “You think it's
okay
that he made love with me and didn't bother to tell—”

“Hello!” Marissa snapped erect. “You two had
sex
? When the hell did this happen?”

“Last Saturday.” Veronica rubbed her hands over her cheeks, looking at Marissa over her fingers. “Well, the first time, anyhow.”

“The
first
time. How many times are we talking about?”

“Oh, God, Rissa, he screwed my brains out.” And admitting that gave Veronica the same conflicted feeling she'd been battling since last night: a hot-and-cold rush of arousal, balanced against chilled skin and a stomach that pitched queasily. “For five nights, several
times
a night,” she added, and gave Marissa a very brief rundown of Coop's middle-of-the-night appearances. “We had sex so many times I lost count. And not once did he say a word about his relationship to Eddie.”

“That
pig
.”

A small knot in Veronica's stomach unraveled. “Thank you. That's more like it.”

“Yes, well, don't go getting too comfortable,” Marissa advised, giving her a look, “because you're not off the hook yet yourself.”

“Me? What did
I
do?” Veronica demanded. “I'm the victim here. I should be getting tea and chocolate.”

“You've got your tea and chocolate.” Pushing the plate of Oreos closer, Marissa gave her a stern look. “But you've got some explaining to do, girl. I can't believe you did the wild thing with Cooper Blackstock several times a day for five days straight and never said a word about it to your very best friend!”

“I was going to tell you.” Veronica shifted uncomfortably on her stool. “Only I wanted to get it straight in my own head before I even attempted to explain it out loud.”

“What's to get straight? Correct me if I'm wrong, but the guy looks like about two hundred pounds of raw sex on the hoof.”

Veronica would have loved to laugh it off, to pooh-pooh the very idea or say indifferently that he was
“okay.” But she could feel her eyes glazing over at the mere memory of what Coop could do with that big body of his. She slapped her hand down on the granite countertop. “That's not the point.”

“Great sex is always the point,” Marissa said. “Or at least it makes a valid point all its own. And it
was
great sex, wasn't it?”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed without thinking. Then she ruthlessly shoved aside the memory of exactly how great and firmed up her backbone. “But the truth is, until last night I was still denying to myself that we even
had
a relationship. And as it turns out, my instincts were pretty damn good, weren't they? Cooper Blackstock and I have nothing. Nada.”

“Because he didn't tell you he was Eddie's brother?”

“That, definitely. I know now that he tried to worm information out of me without identifying himself. I feel duped, Rissa, and it hurts. But you know what's even worse? I have this awful feeling that Cooper is far too much like my father.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Marissa reached over and rubbed her arm. “Surely not. The word around town is that he was a Marine.”

Veronica nodded. “David—the guy who blew his cover—mentioned something about that last night, so I suppose it's true.”

“Then he can't be all
that
lacking in ambition.”

“Except he's, what—thirty-four, thirty-five years old? Hardly old enough to have retired from the service. So, what's he doing with his life?”

“It's possible he's self-employed like you,” Marissa said neutrally. “Maybe he, too, has a career he temporarily put on hold.”

“Why, though? Mine's in limbo because both the Tonk and the house need to be sold, and I'm the only one left to handle it. Not to mention that Lizzy needs—” She gave her friend a stricken look. “
Lizzy
. Oh, my God, Rissa, I've been so self-absorbed I entirely forgot this makes him Lizzy's uncle.” She sat militantly tall on her stool. “That son of a bitch! He's been living in the same house with her, and he never said a word. Not a single, solitary word to let her know she has someone else she can depend on.” Then she laughed sharply. “Of course, that may actually have been a favor, considering she can't. Depend on him,” she clarified when Marissa raised an eyebrow at her. Then she scowled. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I suppose I do. Are you going to tell her?”

“Why do I get all the fun jobs?” Veronica knuckled the headache brewing in her temples. “Still, as much as I'd love to avoid being the one to drop that little bomb on her head, I certainly don't want her hearing it from someone at school.” She stared glumly at the brightly colored magnets that pinned childish artwork to Marissa's refrigerator. “Isn't this just great?” she demanded sarcastically. “Like she needs another shock.”

“This might actually be welcome news, though,” Marissa said quietly. “I would think, at this point, that Lizzy could use all the family she can get.”

They sat silently for a moment, drinking their tea and decimating the plate of Oreos. Then Marissa looked over at Veronica. She pushed her teacup back, drew invisible doodles on the countertop with her fingertip for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Speaking of men, I might have a not-so-dependable guy problem on my own hands.”

Veronica, who had been watching her friend's uncharacteristic avoidance tactics with puzzlement, frowned as if Marissa's words had been delivered in a language other than English. Then it sank in that there was only one man to whom she could be referring.
“Kody?”

“I'm starting to think he doesn't want anything to do with my kids.”

Veronica laughed. “You're kidding.” She immediately saw by the look on Marissa's face that she wasn't. “You're not kidding. I'm sorry—I didn't mean to make light of the situation, it just caught me by surprise. Kody seems like the kind of guy who'd be great with kids.”

“Yeah, that's what I assumed, too. But our dates have all been either for nights when Dess and Riley are spending the evening away from home, or for things like stopping by the Tonk—late-night dates that he always picks me up for after the kids are in bed.”

“Yeah, but that could easily be coincidental, couldn't it? I mean, that's usually when you're available, and when he's avail—”

“Anything's possible, Ronnie,” Marissa interrupted. “But I don't think this is a coincidence.”

“Why not?”

“I've just got one of those gut feelings,” Marissa said. “It's been nibbling away at the edges of my consciousness for a while now, but I guess I haven't wanted to examine it too closely, you know?”

“Oh, yes,” Veronica agreed fervently. “I understand all too well.” She studied Marissa's melancholy expression. “Aside from the obvious—that anyone who fails to recognize how great your kids are is pond
scum—what's your bottom-line feeling about this? About him? I've never seen anything as immediate as the way you two hit it off. Was that merely really good chemistry—or are you in love with him?”

“The smart money would probably say chemistry, since I haven't known him all that long. But I'm really afraid it might be love. I haven't felt like this about a guy since Denny.”

Veronica reached over to squeeze her arm. “Then hadn't you better come right out and ask him what the deal is? Not to argue with your gut or anything, but you could be reading this all wrong.”

“I suppose it's possible,” Marissa said slowly. Then she sat taller in her seat and looked at Ronnie with sudden resolve. “No. You're right. This is too important to try to solve with guesswork. I'll give him a call tonight and arrange to get together. I need to find out what's what.”

Veronica thought about it as she drove home. She hoped with all her heart that Marissa was wrong. But as she parked the car in front of the house several moments later, she suddenly remembered the night of the VFW overnighter and the look that flashed across Kody's face when Marissa had invited him to go to the movies the following day with her and the kids. And she wondered if maybe her friend wasn't on to something. There had been something in that fleeting expression.

Which
she
could just as easily have read all wrong. If she hadn't, though—well, what a damn shame that would be. She truly wanted a happily-ever-after ending for her friend; no one deserved one more.

The last person she expected to find in the living
room was Coop, and she stopped dead at the sight of him sprawled out on the gold and green brocade sofa.

He rose to his feet. “I'm glad you're back. I've been waiting for you.”

Her heart began to pound and she could feel the flush that surged up her throat and onto her face. “Have you? What a waste of time. Because I have nothing to say to you…James.”

His face went hard. “My name is Cooper! Only my mother called me James—and she only did so because it held more upscale connotations for her than Coop. She was real big on that kind of thing.”

“‘Connotations.' My. What a big word for a bartender/Marine.” She didn't flicker so much as an eyelash as they engaged in a heated stare-down.

“Isn't it, though,” he agreed flatly. “You'd be amazed at what words I know.”

Although his face wore that aggravatingly cool lack of expression she'd come to detest, Veronica instinctively knew she'd hit a nerve. She ought to be happy about it, since God knew discovering he was Eddie's half-brother had scraped all
her
nerve endings bare. Instead, she felt…dishonorable.

And wasn't that the shits? How had he managed that? A smart woman would just turn right around and walk away. But, interested in spite of herself, Veronica couldn't quite prevent herself from inquiring, “So James isn't actually your name?”

“It's mine, all right. My legal name is James Cooper Blackstock. But I've been known from birth by my middle name. Only my mother used the James part of it, and even she didn't get insistent about it until after she married Chapman.”

“She was hardly the only one,” Veronica felt compelled to point out. “According to your new best friend David, Eddie called you that, too.”

“Jesus, Ronnie, it was the name he heard from birth. Mom refused to call me anything else.”

“Fine. Thanks for setting me straight. But you can call yourself whatever you want—I still have nothing to say to you.” She started to turn away, then suddenly remembered Lizzy and swung back. “No, that's not true. You'd damn well better be down here to do more than talk to me. You'd better be waiting for Lizzy to get home, so you can explain to her why her uncle has been living in this house but hasn't seen fit to share the truth of his relationship with her.”

He froze. “Aw, man,” he said, clearly miserable. “She's gonna hate my guts.”

Veronica was surprised to see that Mr. Poker Face was quite visibly distressed at the notion. “I guess that's just the chance you'll have to take. You weren't the least bit shy last night about letting people find out you're Eddie's brother. You think it won't be all over her school by tomorrow morning?” She stepped up close and thrust her nose up under his. “It's bad enough that some little bully-brat's gonna get his jollies finding a way to rub her nose in it. I'll be damned if I'll let her be caught flat-footed by the knowledge, to boot.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw, but he gave her a curt nod. “I'll talk to her as soon as she gets home.”

“Good.” She stepped back. “Then I guess we have nothing left to say.”

“The hell we don't!” He grasped her arm. When she stared pointedly at his tanned fingers, he promptly set
her loose. But he crowded close, his dark brows gathered over the thrust of his nose as he scowled down at her. “What the hell should I have done, Ronnie? That first night, if I'd walked into your kitchen and announced I was Eddie's brother and I was here to clear him of your sister's murder, you would have tossed me out on my ear.”

“Quite possibly I would have. But we'll never know for certain now, will we? You didn't give me the chance to make a decision one way or the other. And do I really have to remind you that you've had plenty of opportunities since then? Night after night you could have told me. But you know what, Blackstock? I don't recall hearing a single word come out of your mouth that would've clued me in to the identity of the man I was sleeping with!”

Hell, no, he hadn't told her. He hadn't wanted to give her up, and had feared that admitting he was Eddie's brother would force him to do exactly that. Coop straightened defensively. No, that wasn't it. That made her sound too…important in his life. Not that she wasn't important, of course, just not
that
important, and—well, that wasn't the reason, was all. Yet he heard himself mutter, “I didn't want to give you up, okay?”

“Uh-huh.” Her voice was flat, disbelieving, and she didn't look as though he'd just handed her a powerful weapon. She looked pissed. “So basically what you're saying is that you'd found yourself a handy-dandy little lay and didn't want to screw it up—you'll pardon the pun—with anything so messy as the truth.”

“That's not what I said at all! Jeez-us!” Ramming his fingers through his hair, he stared at her in frustration.
“This is why men hate talking things over with women. We tell you one thing, and you hear something entirely different!”