Head Over Heels (18 page)

Suppressing the sudden surge of warmth that wanted to wrap around him like a blanket simply because she'd expressed faith in his ability to assess character, Coop merely said, “He'd have to be able to see her.” Before she could protest, he qualified, “I could arrange for it to be while she's sleeping, though. I'll agree not to let him speak to her, but he needs to be able to see for himself that she's all right.”

“All right. Thank you.”

“Don't thank me, Ronnie. As much as I'd like to get back in your good graces, I'm not doing this for you. While I see your point concerning the quality of Lizzy's life if she were constantly on the run, I also don't see where it would be appreciably richer or fuller without her father. I agree to keep them separated for Eddie's protection. I doubt Lizzy's ability to
keep it to herself if she saw him, so until we get to the bottom of this mess, I agree to your terms.”

“Fair enough.”

She rose to her feet and so did Coop. Gazing down at her, he thought how earnest and solemn she looked as she stared up at him. For the first time in days she didn't appear angry with him, and he was so pleased about it, he instinctively reached out for her.

She smoothly sidestepped him.

“Ronn—”

“Several nights ago you said I had 'a look' in my eye. Would you like to know what put it there?”

He'd rather kiss her. No, that wasn't the correct response. Coop squared his shoulders. Of course he wanted to know. Clearing Eddie's name was the ultimate goal here. Taking a step back to keep from doing something stupid, he gave her a clipped nod.

“I remembered a conversation with Crystal, which I needed to think about before I discussed it out loud. Then, the other night, I was going to thrash it out with you, but…” Her voice trailed off.

“You discovered I was Eddie's brother.”

“Yes.” She hesitated, then gave him a look that was surprisingly prim. “It might not mean anything, but I feel you have the right to know that Crystal was involved with a man before her death.”

Coop snapped to full attention. “Who?”

“I don't know. I'm assuming he was married, though, because she didn't want to talk about it—and the only time Crystal
ever
avoided giving me way more information than I wanted to know was when she was pretty sure I wouldn't keep my disapproval to myself. She detested being lectured.”

“Did she give you
any
clue who he might be? A first name, anything?”

“No. She called him her ‘honey,' but that was it. I'm pretty sure he was wealthy, though. I had Lizzy for a long weekend early last fall when Crystal went to Hawaii with the guy. She came back raving over the luxury hotel he took her to.”

“What hotel? That might be a place to start.”

“The Royal Hawaiian. She showed me pictures of it—it's this great, turreted pink hotel that was built in the 1920s. Crystal was absolutely blown away over the accommodations. They stayed in a pricey suite overlooking the ocean, which apparently is considered
the
premier location, and she loved the fact that the hotel served pink champagne.”

“Do you have any guesses to the guy's identity?”

“No.” But something flickered in the depths of her moss-green eyes.

“Darlene Starkey intimated Troy Jacobson was having an affair,” he said neutrally. The man had rubbed him the wrong way the one and only time they'd met, so he felt he had to bend over backward not to let that color his attitude now.

“Darlene deals in rumors.”

Hell, he didn't like her defense of Jacobson any better today than he had that night in the bar. “Your sister had an affair with him once.”

“But we have no real reason to suppose she'd taken up with him again.”

Coop was trying not to feel low-grade pissed when she slowly added, “Still, I suppose it was seeing Troy with his wife at the café a while ago that made me think of Crystal's mystery man again. He's certainly
rich enough to qualify. Except…didn't he say something that night at the Tonk about his wife being at their place in Maui? It doesn't seem like he'd mess around in his own back yard.”

That took a little steam out of his awakened hunting instincts. “The Royal Hawaiian is on Maui?”

“No, it's on Waikiki Beach on Oahu. But still—”

“Then we're not really talking his back yard,” he interrupted. “But I'll tell you what. You have the dates Crystal took her jaunt with her rich lover?”

“Not off the top of my head. But they're in my appointment book upstairs.”

“Good. You get the dates, and I'll call an ex-Marine buddy of mine who's become a private detective. Seems to me the place to start would be to determine whether or not Jacobson was even out of town during that period.”

She went upstairs, and was back again shortly. “Here you go,” she said and read off the dates to him. She also handed him a photograph. “I don't know how this could possibly help, but I thought you might be interested in seeing the photo she sent me when she got back.”

“Is this the Royal Hawaiian?”

“Yes. Gorgeous, isn't it?”

The snapshot showed a distinctive building of Spanish-Moorish architectural style, replete with arches and a dome-shaped turret. In the foreground was a coconut grove and the photo could easily have passed for a postcard…if not for a little brown and white spotted dog lifting its leg against one of the palms.

Coop grinned, and not just at the incongruous pic
ture. He didn't know how the snapshot would specifically help, either, but, feeling exultant to be doing something constructive for the first time in what felt like forever, he reached for Ronnie again.

She wasn't fast enough to dodge him this time, but she slapped a staying hand on his chest. “Don't,” she said and jerked her head out of the range of his descending mouth. “Don't mistake my willingness to look beyond your brother for my sister's murderer for anything else. I'm still angry with you, Cooper.”

So he set her loose. But silently, he vowed to see what he could do about that.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
, V
ERONICA NEARLY STEPPED ON
a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of scarlet tulips that tumbled into her bedroom when she opened the door to go downstairs. For a moment she stared down at the bundle of blossoms as if it were a snake poised to strike. Then, with a shake of her head, she slowly bent down to pick it up.

There were at least a dozen flowers, and she worked her fingers to the center of the bunch to retrieve a small card. It was unsigned, but she didn't need to see Coop's name to know who had sent these. The bold black handwriting that took up every centimeter of space was a signature all its own.
I Miss You,
it declared with Cooper's typical let's-just-forgo-the-bullshit straightforwardness.
And not just for the reason you might suspect
.

Veronica hugged the offering to her breast. Oh, man. She was in big, big trouble. It had been hard enough to force herself to step back from his proffered kisses yesterday. How was she supposed to hold firm in the face of this?

Especially when she, too, missed the pleasure of his company—and, like him, not simply for the reasons one might suspect. Savoring the vision of Cooper buying her flowers, then stealing down the hallway to prop them against her door, Veronica set off for his room, the tulips still cradled in her arms.

She'd nearly reached the door at the base of the attic stairs when she came to her senses and stopped.

What was she doing? And what on earth was she
thinking
? Well, she obviously wasn't thinking at all, and if she was honest with herself, she'd have to acknowledge that fabulous sex was
all
she and Cooper had between them. And even if the potential for a deeper, more emotional commitment existed, was that what she really wanted? The
last
thing she intended was to end up like her mother. She absolutely refused to be enthralled by a man with no discernible aspirations.

Ronnie turned away, thinking she ought to just find the nearest trash can and toss the flowers. She certainly didn't need any reminders around to tempt her into changing her mind. She nodded incisively. Yes, indeed. An intelligent woman would unload these babies faster than you could say,
Heartache waiting to happen
.

Unfortunately—except for her father's repeated warnings about her being too damn smart for her own good—nobody had ever accused her of being overly brainy. And probably never would.

She headed for the kitchen to put the tulips in water.

 

Marissa couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this nervous. As she paced the first floor of her house Wednesday night, she tried very hard to assure herself she was blowing this whole Kody-and-the-kids thing out of proportion. But deep down inside, she feared that wasn't the case.

She'd left Riley and Dessa at Ronnie's house forty-five minutes ago, and the only thing she could do now was wait for Kody to arrive. To get her mind off her roiling stomach, she tried to come up with creative reasons to explain why Veronica had seemed restless as a caged bear when she'd dropped off the kids. But her heart wasn't really in it. Her attention kept drifting back to the kitchen window, searching for a glimpse of Kody's truck.

A short while later, headlights swept the kitchen walls as he drove into the circular drive behind the house. Despite her intentions to remain cool and unaffected, Marissa found herself at the back door before he'd even cleared the cab of his van.

“Hi,” she said softly as he crossed the brick patio. She stepped back to hold the door open for him.

“Hi, yourself, sweet stuff.” Kody leaned down to give her a thorough kiss. Raising his head, he studied her for a moment. “It feels like it's been a millennium since I saw you last.” He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip, then entered the kitchen.

Marissa closed the door and joined him. She'd rehearsed this moment several times, but now that she had him here, she didn't know quite where to start. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks,” he said and reached for her. “I wouldn't say no to a little sugar, though.” Pulling her close, he lowered his head to kiss her again.

Heat spread out from his hands at her waist, and she wanted nothing so much as to melt into him and let the embrace just take her away. God knows she'd earned it—she'd pretty much been living on nerves alone for the past week. Yet when the intensity of his kiss cranked up several degrees and she found herself allowing the lean strength of Kody's body to support more and more of her weight, she pulled back.

He blinked down at her.

“I was thinking,” Marissa said, then had to clear her throat when her voice emerged sounding like Minnie Mouse. “We've been dating for a while now, and you've never even met my kids. How would you like to come over and join us for hamburgers tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow? I, uh, can't. I've got something going with my dad.”

Her heart sank right down to her toes. She hadn't been imagining boogie men where no boogie men existed. Dammit—just once she'd like her gut to be wrong, but everything she'd feared was right in front of her eyes. It was in the slight fidget in Kody's posture; it was in the strained smile on his face, and the way he couldn't quite hold her gaze. “So, bring him along,” she said levelly. “He's more than welcome, too.”

“Sorry. That won't work.”

“Friday, then,” she said flatly.

“I've got, uh—”

“Something else terribly important to do,” she sup
plied when he faltered. She walked over to the back door and held it open. “I think you'd better leave now.”

“What?”

“I may be slow, but I'm not an idiot,” she said and rattled the door. “Get out.”

“Rissa, this is not what it must seem like—”

“Isn't it? Because what it
seems
like is that I'm good enough to bounce around a mattress when the mood strikes you, but when it comes to me meeting your family or for you to meet mine, I'm not suitable.”

“No!” He reached out to touch her, but she jerked back and his hand dropped to his side. He leaned into her with determined intensity, however, and said, “Listen, it's just…my sister dates a lot of guys, and I've seen my nephew Jacob disappointed again and again, when her men disappear from his life just about the time he's starting to depend on them. So I have this little quirk about staying away from the kids of the women I date.”

Anger rose like a red tide in Marissa's veins. It came from so many levels at once she could hardly keep them all straight, let alone under control, but she held on to her temper with furious determination. “Uh-huh,” she said with curt equanimity. “Well, it's certainly nice to know where I stand in your life. I'm one of the women you date.”

“You're the
only
woman I've dated in quite some time.” But Kody felt as if the ground beneath his feet had suddenly turned into a dangerous bog. One wrong step and he'd be sucked into the quicksand, never to be seen from again.

“I see.” Her tone was neutral, but her eyes were lit with fury. “So rather than being one of many, I'm
the
woman you deign to sleep with but very carefully do not allow into any other part of your life.”

She made it sound so contemptible, but it wasn't like that. “I don't want to be responsible for putting the look I've seen in Jacob's eye in any other kids' eyes, is all. It's been my experience that—”

“All women are whores?”

“No.”

“I think that's exactly what you think. That all women are whores who care more about getting sexual satisfaction for themselves than they do about the welfare of their children.”

Even knowing he shouldn't go there, he heard himself blurting, “The first night we met—”

“I fell right into bed with you,” she interrupted in a clipped, concise tone. “Therefore it's only reasonable to assume I must do the same with every man I meet.”

He raked a frustrated hand through his hair. “Will you let me finish a goddamn sentence? Or at least not put words in my mouth?”

“Oh, I beg your pardon. You don't think you were just one of many, then?”

He hesitated a moment too long because that
was
what he'd thought…at first. But then he'd gotten to know her better.

Before he could tell her he no longer believed she slept around, however, she gave a sharp little nod. “That's what I thought. Well, I have news for you, hotshot. I don't fall into bed with every man I meet. I thought you were special.” She laughed without humor. “Hell. I thought I was falling in
love
with you.”

Kody's heart thumped against the wall of his chest, then began to pound in earnest. He took an involun
tary, eager step toward her, but she slapped a restraining hand to his chest. Then, her eyes electric with rage and her soft mouth mulish with resolve, she backed him up, step by determined step.

“The truth, however,” she said flatly, “is that I don't really know you. And you sure as hell don't know the first thing about me if you think I'd expose my kids to the kind of meet-your-new-uncle scenario you described. I just thought it might be nice if they could get to know the first man I've dated since their father died. But clearly I was wrong.”

She reached around him, and a corner of his mind registered the miniblinds on the back door rattling as the door opened. But he didn't pay the sound any heed, because his attention had fixed on the words “love” and “first.” They ricocheted around his brain like bullets shot into a rock talus.

“I must have been dreaming,” she said. “But you know what? I'm wide awake now. And I don't want my kids anywhere near a man who thinks their mother is a selfish slut.” Then she gave him a firm nudge.

And the next thing Kody knew, freezing wind was whistling through his parka as he found himself outside on Marissa's patio, staring at the swaying miniblinds as the kitchen door closed with a thump in his face.

 

Cooper placed his newest offering—a framed snapshot of Lizzy and Dessa wearing garish dress-up garb and too much makeup—against Veronica's bedroom door, then slowly straightened. This wooing business
was hard work, and he didn't have the first idea how today's gift would be received. Hell, he didn't even know if it could be considered a gift. The photograph was Ronnie's to begin with, but he'd taken it to a little frame shop over on Third and had it matted and framed for her. He ought to get points for that, but when it came right down to it, who knew if he would? Women were unpredictable.

It was a quarter to three in the morning, and standing in the hallway like a supplicant, he was sorely tempted to let himself into her room the way he used to do. It would be easy to have her aroused and willing before she was even fully awake.

His hand reached out for the doorknob.

Then he let it drop to his side. He didn't think he could stand to discover she still slept with a chair propped under the doorknob to keep him out. And if she had quit doing that, could he repay her renewed trust by promptly betraying it? She was actually beginning to speak to him again, and she'd made a huge concession when she'd agreed to help him look beyond Eddie as a suspect in her sister's murder.

Leaving her door untouched, he turned and headed for his room. He wasn't sure if it meant he was mature, or the world's biggest chump.

But he had a bad feeling that, either way, he wasn't going to sleep worth a damn tonight.

 

Veronica waited until Coop's soft footsteps faded completely before she threw back the covers and slid out of bed. Shivering when her warm feet hit the cold floorboards, she crossed the room and silently opened her
door. Looking down the hallway, she ascertained that the coast was clear, then snatched the flat package off the floor and used her hip to ease the door closed again. A second later she climbed back into bed, turned on the bedside lamp, and pulled the covers up to her chest, tucking them beneath her armpits.

For a moment she simply sat and savored the endless possibilities that a wrapped present constitutes. She scooped one of the double-dipped chocolate-covered macadamia nuts that had been yesterday's gift out of a dish on her nightstand and popped it in her mouth while she studied the plain brown wrapping of tonight's present. Its militarily sharp corners elicited a small smile. They were so…Coop. Then she carefully flipped the package over, slid a finger beneath the paper's edge, and unpeeled the three pieces of tape that held it together. She pulled the paper off and turned the gift right side up.

“Oh.”
It was one of the photos she'd taken the night Lizzy and Dessa had played dress-up in Crystal's finery. Coop had mounted the snapshot in royal blue matting the same color as Lizzy's dress. And where Veronica would've expected him to select a plain, no-nonsense frame, he'd chosen a pewter one that was wondrously, femininely ornate. He'd obviously picked it out with her in mind.

And that made the gift extra special.

Damn. She was so tired of fighting her need for him, and her desire to go up to his room was almost beyond bearing. The strength of her craving caused her to look at her mother's motives in a brand-new light.

Had Mama felt anything close to this burning neediness for Daddy? It was difficult to think of one's par
ents as sexual beings, but maybe the reason her mother had put up with her father's shiftlessness for all those years was because he'd made it worth her while…in other areas.

She pushed the thought aside; she didn't even want to go there. But a small smile tickled the corners of her mouth. “You go, Mama,” she murmured. It was kind of nice to think that maybe her mother had gotten
something
in return for all her years of sacrifice.