Ten
Cooper dusted off his suit. Well, it was his suit now. Rochelle’s husband, Dave, wore suits to work every day, but a year or so ago, he’d been bitten by the chips-and-beer fairy, growing out of a few of his expensive suits. Of course Rochelle tried to put him on a diet, which was semi-successful, but the tight suits went away. So did the tight and oh-so-expensive Italian dress shirts. Up to that point, Cooper had one fairly late model sports coat and some nice slacks. He did have occasional dates and a wedding or funeral every couple of years.
He wasn’t big on suits. Yet, he looked in the mirror and couldn’t help but be impressed. He wondered if he’d survive in a desk job.
No. He wouldn’t.
The school gymnasium had been transformed for the dance and was full of kids, at least a couple hundred. It was also pretty flush with adults. Cooper was about the best-dressed one there, thanks to his beefy brother-in-law. Since Mac was tall, he was the first one Cooper picked out of the crowd. He got around to Mac’s side by skirting a wall decorated in crepe paper. Mac was close to the refreshment table and, after shaking Cooper’s hand, he passed a plastic cup toward him. “Punch?”
Cooper looked into the cup. “It’s pink,” he said.
“I know. Wait till you taste it.”
“How much of that crap do you have to drink before you can go home?”
Mac chuckled. “My job is to make sure nothing adult gets poured into the punch bowl.”
“You’re an amateur,” Cooper said. “With all these chaperones around the punch bowl, they’ll pour it right into their cups.”
“Right, but I’ve got Gina and Lou in the crowd. They both have eyes in the back of their heads. How’d you get talked into this?”
Cooper gave a snort and shook his head. He spread his jacket and put his hands in his pockets. “By now you’ve probably figured out, Landon’s the kid I was keeping an eye on. When Gina asked me—no, make that ordered me—to join the chaperone crew, I thought maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. It’s not like I have a lot of social commitments around here and I’m getting a little tired of mold.”
“You should’ve told me about Landon,” Mac said.
“You’re right. I guess I should’ve. So, by now there’s probably no real reason for me to be here. Is he here? Landon?”
Mac gave a nod. “Dancing with my daughter. As I watch.”
“Try to go easy, Mac. You were sixteen once.”
“That’s why I’m watching.”
Cooper laughed. “So, I know Landon went to the hospital to be checked out, but he’s okay except for a black eye. What about the other kid?”
“He went to jail.”
“Seriously?” Cooper asked, shocked.
“You act surprised. Landon was jumped from behind, but he saw his assailant and named him. He’s filing charges, thank God. You know, I don’t usually get a big kick out of arresting people. Hooking ’em up and taking them to jail. But that one,” he said. “I kind of enjoyed that. Little bastard. Fighting is bad enough, dirty fighting is just cheap and nasty.”
“Morrison isn’t here tonight, is he?” Cooper asked.
“He’s been suspended from school. There will be some straightening out to do before he shows up again. And it isn’t official, but I think he’s all done playing football. There are only three games left, but if I know the coach, he’s finished, even when he gets back into school.”
“Well, before you write this one off, be sure to ask Landon about Morrison’s friends. He has a posse, don’t ask me why. Right after the Carver game, I just happened upon a little scuffle. Two big boys were holding Landon so Morrison could hit him.”
Mac scrubbed a hand down his face. “Aw, man...”
“I don’t know their names, but I could pick them out. It would be better, though, if Landon just told you. Is there likely to be any trouble from them tonight?”
“Doubtful,” Mac said. “That Eve, she’s her father’s daughter, all right. Once she found out Morrison was giving Landon a hard time, she fixed them up with a double date. Ashley’s boyfriend is an alumnus, very large, very well liked around here. I’ll give Landon a call tomorrow, see if we can wrap this up. Any other little gems you were saving?”
Cooper missed some of the question. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of a woman he recognized. Sarah was here. She seemed to be staying close to the gym doors, half-hidden by a fake pillar with crepe paper and balloons attached to it.
“Huh?” he said to Mac.
“I said, is there anything else I should know?”
“Can’t think of a thing, Mac. Hey, I think I’ve learned my lesson here. If I’d told you what was going on, maybe Landon would be a little pissed, but he probably wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”
“And there you go,” Mac said.
“Um, I see someone I should say hello to,” Cooper said. “Landon’s sister is here. Guard that punch.”
“You know it.”
Cooper swung by the refreshment table, got a little plastic cup of that pink shit, a small napkin and walked toward Sarah. She was peering around the fake pillar and had her back to him as he approached on her other side—and what a back it was. She was wearing a long-sleeved, formfitting black sweater-type dress with some kind of animal skin belt and black, high-heeled boots. Although Cooper would have no way of knowing, he suspected she didn’t buy those boots in Thunder Point.
“Are you hiding?” he asked.
She jumped and whirled around, her hand pressed to her throat. She let her eyes close briefly. “You scared me to death!”
“Sorry,” he said. “You seemed to be peeking out from around the decorations. Are you incognito tonight?”
“I’m a little on the low-profile side.” She took a breath. “It’s been a very long day.”
He offered her the cup. “Punch?”
She looked at it and made a face. “It’s pink.”
“And no little umbrella, either. We have more in common than you’d think.”
“Listen, about this morning...”
“Forget it,” he said. “He’s your brother. He got hurt. You were worried.”
“Well, thanks, but I wasn’t exactly asking for forgiveness.”
His eyebrows shot up. Figured.
“It’s just that, I had no right to be so hostile. That came out of nowhere. It wasn’t worry. When I don’t have control of the situation...ack,” she said, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “Okay, I apologize for being so mean, but not for being suspicious of you. Any mother or older sister or guardian would be. Anyway, let’s start fresh. Look at you—you do not look like an ordinary helicopter pilot who’s fixing up a run-down bait shop. That’s a four-thousand-dollar suit. None of the helicopter pilots I know wear four-thousand-dollar suits. They don’t even want to.”
Cooper grinned. “And this is a hundred-and-fifty-dollar shirt. It’s Italian.”
“Clotheshorse, eh? Or drug lord?”
He shook his head and laughed. “My brother-in-law is an executive who got fat. My sister sent me three suits, a bunch of shirts and some bad ties that cost a fortune. Gina told me to dress up.”
A short laugh escaped her and her face was briefly transformed. She was beautiful to start with, her skin flawless, her cheeks flushed pink and those dark-coffee eyes so hot. “Well, you clean up all right.”
“Why, thank you, Sarah. So, Mac tells me Landon is here, dancing with his daughter.”
The smile vanished and she groaned, dropping her chin.
“I take it he’s recovered?” Cooper asked.
“He looks like hell. Black eye, split lip, bruised cheek and a big old lump on his head. He shouldn’t be out tonight. We did not have an amicable day.”
“But does he feel okay?” Cooper asked.
“He feels like the luckiest kid in the world because the ravishing Eve McCain wanted to go to the dance with him even though his face looks like hamburger. But I wouldn’t let him drive. I offered to drive him and he said he’d throw himself in front of a train first.”
“She is ravishing,” Cooper said with humor. “And she’s nice. But most important, her daddy is the law around here. He put the guy who hit Landon in jail.”
That got her attention. “Jail? Does Landon know that?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure the kid’s parents got him out pretty quick, but he did go to jail. That makes me feel better. He’s a snotty little dick.”
Again with the smile, larger this time. Sarah had been hanging out with Coast Guard pilots for probably ten years. Cooper was speaking her language. Salty. But dear God, she was beautiful when she smiled like that.
“Does Landon know you’re here?”
She nodded. “And he’s not very happy about it. I wasn’t going to come tonight, but then... He likes that I go to the games, but this? He wants to be alone with his girl.”
“His girl’s daddy’s watching. And her daddy is—”
“I know, the law.” She laughed again. “Did you know the young girls call him Deputy Yummy Pants?”
Cooper barked out a laugh so loud people turned toward him. She put a hand on his arm to shush him.
“Shh. I hear he doesn’t warm to it,” she said. “And he’s a big boy with a gun.”
“I’ll be careful with that information.” Cooper looked around. “I think these people have things under control. I could buy you something to drink that’s not pink.”
“Oh...I don’t think so....”
“Dinner,” he said. “I’ll throw in dinner. Or if you’ve had dinner, I’ll buy you a drink and dessert.”
“Listen, you’re taking this good-neighbor thing kind of far. It wouldn’t be such a good idea. I mean, you’re Landon’s friend and I’m watching you to see if I have to beat you up for any reason.”
His lips twitched with a smile; getting beat up by her could be erotic. As hell. “Take a chance. We can talk about the town. Or your brother. Or helicopters, if you don’t get enough of that at work. I don’t know about you, but this isn’t what I feel like doing tonight.”
“Yeah, but there’s Landon... I hate to get too far away.”
“Text him. Tell him we’re going to dinner and we’ll be nearby if he needs anything.” He smiled at her. “Let’s get out of here.”
* * *
Cooper suggested they stay in town, for her peace of mind, even though there were some great restaurants within thirty minutes of Thunder Point. She appreciated that. And he wanted to go in one car. “I’d be more than happy to take my truck, but I think given that narrow skirt of yours, we should go in your car. If you don’t mind bringing me back for my truck, that is.”
“We could just go in separate cars,” she said.
“Nah. Come on, let’s ride together. But first, shoot a text to Landon.”
She took out her phone in the high school parking lot and her thumbs got busy on the letters. “I hope he’s not all cranky about me going out after all the arguing we did today about him going out.”
Cooper laughed. “He’s going to think I’m doing him a favor.” Then his voice lowered slightly. “But I’m not.”
“Wow,” she said. “He texted right back. Have fun?”
“Good,” Cooper said. “Let’s go. I’ve only figured out a couple of things in this town, but one is that when the town is occupied with school events like games, Cliffhanger’s is quiet.” He grabbed her elbow and started to walk her around to the passenger side of a compact SUV. “Want me to drive?” he asked.
“My car? I don’t think so.”
“All right then,” he said, backtracking and holding the driver’s door for her. When you spent a lot of your life in a flight suit and combat boots, doors didn’t get opened for you a lot, so she slid in. He got in the passenger seat, moving it back as far as it would go.
When she was behind the wheel and they were under way, he said, “Good old Landon. I went to exactly one high school dance. I mean, real high school dance, like with a girl. The nonformal kind I’d hit with a couple of buddies, if I had a couple of buddies, and we’d prowl around the outskirts, ogle the girls so we’d have something to talk about later.”
“And how was the one you actually went to? With a girl?”
“Didn’t work out the way I thought it would,” he said with a laugh. “It took so much courage to ask her that my expectations might’ve been a little high. She had a terrible time. Somehow I couldn’t do anything right. She was miserable. Now I can’t even remember her name, which makes me hope she can’t remember mine.”
“She remembers,” Sarah said. “Do you remember anything about her?”
“Blond hair and boobs,” he answered.
“I give you some credit for being honest, but not a lot. Of credit, that is. Did it ever occur to you that women don’t really like being remembered for their hair color or their boobs?”
“Of course it does, now. And I’m very sorry, Commander Dupre, but even though I don’t read Psychology Today, I do know that humans are visual creatures. There has to be an initial visual attraction and then, once you get to know a person better, you can fully appreciate all their other fine qualities. If you never get to know their traits and talents, you remember hair and boobs.”
“Very shallow,” she said. But what sprang instantly to mind was his torso in a towel. The amazing tattoo, his broad shoulders, fantastic biceps, terrific pecs, perfect chest hair—not too much, not too little—and that narrow waist. Her reaction pissed her off. “It’s Lieutenant Commander,” she said.
“If it’s any comfort, I’ve come a long way since high school.”
“So you no longer think about hair and boobs?”
She pulled into Cliffhanger’s parking lot, which was not full. As she found a space and parked he said, “I didn’t say that.” He went around to the driver’s side to open her door, but she was already getting out, treating him to a beautiful shot of thigh as she did so.
Holding her elbow, he steered her into the restaurant. Right inside the door was the bar, where he’d eaten last time he was there. Beyond the bar was a fancier dining room, tablecloths and everything. He lifted a hand to the bartender. “Hey, Cliff.”
“Hey, Cooper. Funeral?”
Cooper just laughed and kept steering her.
“Let’s get a corner table like that one over there, near the fireplace. Damn, it’s cold,” he said. “I’ve been in the Gulf too long, I think. What’s winter like around here?”
“Colder,” she said with a laugh. “We just moved here this summer from North Bend, right up the road. But I did three years in Kodiak, three in Michigan. This is nothing. You have no fireplace in that trailer of yours.”
He maneuvered her toward a table in the corner, not far from the restaurant’s hearth. Only a few tables in the whole place were occupied, all of them far enough away so that no conversations would be overheard. He helped her out of her long, black coat and folded it over a vacant chair. “No fireplace and it rocks in the wind. Even though there’s been sun almost every day, the wind off the bay can get chilly. I’ve been cold since the day I got here. I’m going to have to buy some sealskin or something.”
The second she sat down, the bartender was standing beside their table with menus. Cooper was shrugging out of his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair. “Bring me a beer, Cliff. This is Miss Dupre—Sarah.” Cliff gave a nod. “Sarah, what would you like to drink?”
“A Chardonnay will do the trick.”
“Draft and Chardonnay,” Cooper said. Then he sat down, his back to the room, and loosened his tie. He removed his cuff links, slid them into his shirt pocket and rolled up his sleeves to just under his elbows. He leaned those elbows on the table, looked at her with a half smile and said, “I’m sorry that it was some difficult business for your brother that introduced me to him, but I’m glad it led to meeting you.”
It was that comment—combined with the fact that the small tuft of hair peeking out of his opened collar and his muscled forearms were achingly sexy—that caused her to say, “I’ve been divorced for nine months.”
He lifted one brow. “Wanna talk about it?”
“Not particularly.”
“And you brought it up because...?”
“If you have an idea that this chance meeting is going to lead to something, you’d be mistaken.”
He shook his head. “Sarah, we’re both over thirty. Hopefully, we’ve overcome the idea that dinner means sex. Unless it’s an exceptional dinner.”
“We’ll split the check,” she said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You pay for dinner. Believe me, you’ll feel more in control that way.”
“You know, I can tell you think you’re funny, not taking me seriously.”
“Oh, you’re wrong!” he said. “I think it would be a catastrophe to not take you too seriously. A disaster of unparalleled proportion.”
“Hilarious,” she said.
Cliff put her wine in front of her first, then put the draft down.
“Ah,” Cooper said. “Liquor. Thank God.”
“Have you decided yet?” Cliff asked.
“We’ll have the grouper,” Cooper said. “Salad starters, please. Ranch for me.”
“Oil and vinegar, on the side,” she said.
“And make sure Lieutenant Commander Dupre gets the check.” He winked at her, and Cliff ran for his life.
She took a sip of her wine. “How do you know I won’t expect sex if I pay.”
“Well, cheers,” he said, lifting his draft. “Although I’d feel cheap and dirty the whole time, I can live with that.”
Much as it galled her, she laughed at him. “Ever married?” she asked. “Children?”
“No and no. I think I probably saved some poor woman a world of misery,” he said.
“No doubt. So, how much did Landon tell you about me? About us?”
“Not a lot. He said he’s moved around with you and the Coast Guard. And I know about Aunt Frances.”
She looked down. Then met his eyes and saw warmth and sympathy there. “Our darkest year,” she admitted. “Our parents died, I had to take a compassionate leave to settle things, which put me back to the next class. I put Landon with the bitch who has no name, then had to take leave a second time to get him out of there. That poor kid. He should be so screwed up, all he’s been through, and he’s incredible.”
“And Aunt Frances?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Our parting was ugly. We don’t keep in touch. Well, we were in touch through lawyers briefly—she was my father’s only sibling and she actually fought Landon and I for some of the insurance money left, since she had been named in the will to take Landon. That will was written when Landon was a baby and I was barely eighteen, not ready to take on a child. But that she would abuse him and then expect a payoff...! We settled, but we will not stay in touch.”
He sat back and let out a breath. “I was right. That woman is going to have a hard time staying out of hell. Maybe she’s dead?”
“I think she’s too mean to die. You said you were the new kid a lot? Military roots?”
He shook his head. “Very boring roots, really. Corporate moves. My dad is an accountant. He rose to CFO of a big company based in Tampa, and the company folded when I was thirteen. I have three sisters—they were nine, fifteen and seventeen at the time. While he was looking for something permanent, something with growth potential, he worked as a consultant on some long-term contract jobs. We moved three times and landed in Albuquerque right at the start of my junior year. The folks rented a house and bought one in a different school district a year later. That gave me four schools in as many years.”
“And it was hard,” she said.
“It was terrible. I can look back and say I learned a few things, but here I am, almost forty, and I haven’t stayed in one place for long since. Because it’s just me, I pull up stakes the second I don’t like the way the wind is blowing.”
“And how’s the wind blowing in this place?” she asked.
“It’s a very strange wind,” he said. “Not because of Thunder Point—it’s not a bad place at all. For mysterious reasons known only to my deceased friend, Ben, I am responsible for his property. It’s a disaster. It’s been kind of hard to decide how to handle it. While the cleanup is getting done, the contractor’s architect is measuring, drawing up final plans, and there you have it. A few months from now, it’ll be a new bait shop, without the bait.”
She made a confused face.
“That place really needs to be a bar and deli—drinks and prepackaged food that doesn’t have to be made on site. Low-maintenance, so it can be managed by one person. We’ll reinforce, finish off the cellar, remodel and rebuild the dock. Hopefully someone will be able to see the potential....”
He talked about lumber and studs and beams, but Sarah didn’t hear.
Across the room a couple and their teenage son stood from a table, grabbed their coats and were about to leave. It was Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, with Jag. When they saw her, they stopped midway across the dining room. Sarah hadn’t noticed them before, but she knew them from the games. Mrs. Morrison was a beautiful, painfully thin woman of about forty-five or so, with hair so blond it was almost white. Mr. Morrison was shorter and older than his wife and he wore a most miserable rug.
There was a staring contest going on. Sarah slowly stood and was vaguely aware of Cooper looking over his shoulder. Then he, too, fell silent.
Sarah and the Morrisons’ gazes were locked on one another. Then Mrs. Morrison lifted her nose and began to walk away.
“Have you nothing to say to me?” Sarah said because she couldn’t help herself. “Nothing at all?”
Mrs. Morrison’s head snapped around and she wore a sneer so angry that Sarah actually flinched.
“And what would you have me say? That I’m very unhappy about the way you contrived this entire event with the sole purpose of some kind of revenge on my son?”
“Huh?” she said, completely confused. “Revenge?”
“Landon fell in a slippery shower but saw a perfect opportunity to make Jag seem responsible. Obviously a jealous move, one that’s caused a world of trouble!”
Jag, who stood a few feet behind his parents, actually smiled.
“Effie, just let it go. Our lawyer can handle this.”
“Lawyer?” Cooper asked. Then a huff of unamused laughter escaped him. “I don’t think you want to slide down this slope any further. A couple of weeks ago I found Jag and his friends holding Landon against his will while Jag punched him.”
“Mom, that’s the guy who broke my finger.”
Cooper put one hand in his pants pocket and glared. “Is that so? Where’s the cast?”
“He wore a splint,” Mr. Morrison said. “The sore finger, that’s what held him back in the game.”
“Right,” Cooper said. “And by the way, that would be the second time I witnessed your son bullying and intimidating Landon. The first time was on the beach, from the deck of the bait shop.”
Sarah noticed Cliff standing in the doorway to the dining room, nervously twisting his hands in a dish towel. There were three other tables of patrons looking at this confrontation in what appeared to be fascination. They were all sitting behind Jag and his parents and couldn’t see the Morrisons’ faces. There was not a clink of a fork or murmur.
Jag’s mother looked Sarah up and down coldly, meanly. Then she spoke to Cooper. “Well, I see your incentive in making up these stories now....”
“Mrs. Morrison, it isn’t a good idea to insult Commander Dupre. It only suggests where Jag learned his bad manners.”
“Effie, we’ll go now,” Mr. Morrison said. “We’re not going to participate in some cheap public display. This will be handled legally.” Mr. Morrison moved to his wife’s side, slipped his arm through hers and led the way out of the dining room.
And Jag, unbelievably, stood still. He silently laughed, tipping his head back. Then he stared at Sarah and made little kissing motions with his lips. And then he closed his eyes into mere slits and ran his tongue around his lips, all the while his hands in his pockets, his expression aggressive and sexual.
Sarah lost it. She suddenly took a couple of steps as if she’d charge him. Cooper grabbed her around the waist and held on to her, lifting her off the floor. She was reaching toward Jag, kicking her feet.
Jag jumped back into a table, crashing into it and sending glassware tumbling. He yelled, “Hey!” as if he were under attack, though Sarah hadn’t gotten near him. His parents turned back toward the dining room, ready to rescue their poor, victimized son.
Cliff ran forward, grabbed the boy by the arm to right him, then murmured something like, “We’ll take care of this,” and hustled him out of the dining room.
Cooper slowly put Sarah on her feet. He turned her around. He looked calm. She looked furious. “Sit down,” he said softly.
Sarah went back to her chair, but she was seething. Trembling. She could feel eyes on her; she could feel the hot flush on her cheeks. She took a sip of her wine. Then she whispered, “Did you see?”
“I saw,” Cooper said with a black frown. “He set you up. He’s a punk.”
She shook her head, still stunned. “Listen, Cooper, I’ve been in one or two seedy waterfront bars where you have to be careful and I’ve never been treated like that.”
“I believe it. Even in ugly grunt bars, only the lowest, drunkest men pull that stuff. And he’s seventeen?”
“I think I’d like to leave,” she said.
“No, Sarah. We’re going to stay. We’re going to sit here awhile and talk quietly. I want you to have your wine, try to eat your dinner.”
Cliff came to their table. “You folks okay?” he asked softly.
“We’re fine,” Cooper said. “We’re very excited about that grouper.”
“Good!” he said, grinning.
But Sarah’s hand went to her stomach. When Cliff left she said, “I’m not all that excited.”
He smiled at her. “Time to get a grip. If you’re going to live in a little town, you have to know who you can trust. You can trust the grouper.”
“You broke his finger?” she asked.
“Nah. He got in my face, poked me in the chest and told me to take off and leave Landon. I didn’t feel like it. I made a point, that’s all. His finger is fine. I wanted to mess up his face, lying little prick. He’s lucky we walked away.”
She smiled at him. “Are you all right?”
“You are buying dinner,” he said. “My shins hurt.”
And her flush deepened.