Eleven
Cooper wanted to keep Sarah at the restaurant for a reasonable length of time. For one thing, he wanted to be sure she was completely calmed down and thinking straight. He also intended to be sure they discussed some very important things. While they ate salads, he opened the conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Morrison clearly considered themselves privileged and above the rules. Jag took it even a step further. He was vindictive, cruel and obviously spoiled, with a powerful family who would back him up even when all the facts pointed to his dishonesty and immorality.
“Listen, Sarah, that kid? He’s fearless and dark, dangerous. Obviously, he comes by it honestly—his mother is just as creepy. First of all, if you ever see any of them, the Morrisons, I want you to cross the street to avoid them. Second, we’re going to take this even more seriously and make sure Landon is safe. And third...” He shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to describe it, but I’m going to tell Mac about what just happened. It was very sick and twisted.”
“They mentioned a lawyer.”
“People say lawyer a lot more than they use lawyers. But they do need one. Their kid went to jail, will have to appear before a judge and has been suspended from school. Landon doesn’t need a lawyer.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because it sounds like they really believe Landon would lie about this.”
“I think they do believe it, but that doesn’t make it true,” he said.
“Where does a kid like that end up in life?” Sarah asked him.
“Probably cell block five,” Cooper said. “And if so, he’ll find out what it’s like to be jumped from behind. Listen, the real important issue here is Landon. He wants to be a big manly guy, all sixteen-year-old boys do. He doesn’t want to appear afraid. You’re going to have to find a way to convince him to take Morrison very seriously.”
She huffed. “I can try. You might have better luck with that than me.”
“If there’s an opportunity, I will. And I’ll talk to Mac, but I think you should do that, too. Ask Mac what steps you and Landon should take to be safe. Hopefully, the kid’s just an ass.”
She shook her head. “I’m trying to figure out how to explain that I could interpret him throwing me kisses and licking his lips as dangerous....”
“It wasn’t that, Sarah. It was the gleam in his eyes. If he’d done that to my girl in front of me ten years ago, I might’ve taken him out. As for Mac, I don’t think he’ll even question you when it comes to your feelings about Morrison. After all, his daughter is involved, if only on the edge of this situation.”
She was looking at him steadily. Earnestly. “I never thought I’d be relying on a complete stranger for help with this.”
Cooper was considering many possible responses when Cliff brought the grouper.
“Here we go,” Cliff said. “Most popular dish in the house. And listen, folks, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t see what he did to get a rise out of you, but I didn’t have to. I’ve dealt with that kid and his mother before. His dad, Puck Morrison, is not such a bad guy, unless you’re doing business with him. Then he can get a little fierce, but I never knew him to turn on anyone...”
“Puck?” Cooper asked.
“From old hockey days.” Then he laughed. “Real old. Puck’s got about thirty years on his wife. I knew her way back. She used to be a tiny little thing with a bad temper. Came from nothin’—she’s a town girl—but you’d think she came from Buckingham Palace. Puck came from Eugene. Effie’s the second wife. He wasn’t quite done with the first one when Effie stepped in. That’s mostly just gossip, but I been around a long time and knew Effie before she had boobs. Seriously, I think Puck bought her boobs, then married her. Or maybe then his wife left him, along with their two older sons. I don’t know what they were doing here tonight. Morrisons don’t usually darken my door. Puck drops in by himself sometimes, just for a beer or some gossip, but the wife likes the country club. She doesn’t waste a lot of time in this old town....”
He just talked on and on while Cooper and Sarah listened. When he slowed down just a little, Cooper said, “Pull up a chair, Cliff. Have a cup of coffee with us.”
“Nah, but thanks,” he said, not catching the sarcasm. “Enjoy that grouper. Most popular dish in the house.”
Cooper and Sarah just smiled at each other across the table. Cooper lifted his fork and said, “Try it. It really is good.”
As she took a small bite, Cooper was aware of the shift in mood at their table, thanks to Cliff. At least for the moment, it seemed as if Sarah wasn’t thinking about that snotty punk or her brother or her troubles. She chewed slowly, lifted her brows and said, “Wow. Excellent! You must come here a lot.”
He shook his head. “Just a couple of times. It was recommended and I liked it.” He took his own bite. “So, I told you I was in four schools in four years. I had no idea I’d end up in the Army, in helicopters. I enlisted because I figured everyone in the Army was from somewhere else and it was probably the only place I wouldn’t be the new guy. But what about you? You move around a lot as a kid?”
She shook her head. Born and raised in Boca Raton, Florida, she grew up surfing, sailing, swimming, diving, playing volleyball, softball and soccer. The conversation was slow and easy, punctuated by his questions and their bites of grouper, rice and asparagus. She loved the sea, thus the Coast Guard. She’d thought she’d like flying, then learned she loved flying helicopters. Until the death of her parents, she’d led a charmed life.
She married another Coast Guard helicopter pilot, a man her age but junior in rank by a few years. And she described it as a foolish mistake.
“There were red flags. I questioned his fidelity before the wedding but he somehow convinced me I was imagining things, that he could never be interested in another woman. It turned out I married a man who thought being faithful was optional. Once caught, he calmly explained he wasn’t cut out for marriage. For monogamy.”
Cooper was stunned. Of all the stupid and insensitive things he’d done, that hadn’t been one of them. If he became attracted to another woman, enough to want to take her to bed, he saw that as a signal whatever relationship he was in wasn’t working. Duh. He wasn’t naive; men cheated all the time and some rationalized that any woman who wiggled past them was fair game.
“Why do you look so dumbfounded?” Sarah asked him.
He closed his mouth. “Sorry. I’m not fifteen. I know it happens all the time. But before the marriage? Why’d he want to get married?”
“I have a better question. It wasn’t the first time. The Coast Guard is like a small town, especially after about six years. So why didn’t anybody tell me? Why didn’t someone say, Hey, Sarah, this guy’s really been around and he’s broken a few hearts?”
Cooper couldn’t stop the stain that darkened his cheeks, though he fought it. He’d been accused of breaking hearts, but not by cheating. His crimes were slightly different. He’d been called shiftless and unable to put down roots or plan a real future. He couldn’t seem to get attached. He’d been twice engaged—once because he’d been with a good woman and thought it was time and once because his girlfriend of the moment, also a good woman, asked and he couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Both times he’d been informed he had commitment issues. He was told he was emotionally unavailable, whatever that meant. One said he had problems with intimacy, but he thought his only problem was not enough intimacy—and then he was informed that sex was not intimacy. Really? He was too much of a loner, couldn’t connect, didn’t understand women. Probably true, as far as he knew. And although the breaking up had hurt him enough to try avoiding women, he realized he was probably better off than with either of them.
And there’d been a whole lot of short-term women. Some very short-term. Right now as he looked across the table at Sarah, who was so hot, he asked himself why. Shouldn’t he have found a long-term mate by now? Did he have a missing chromosome?
“You look completely embarrassed,” she pointed out to him.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been told I’m a bad bet. That I’m afraid of commitment, intimacy, et cetera. I never thought I was afraid. You don’t have to believe this—I probably wouldn’t if I were you—but I didn’t cheat. I’m no Prince Charming, but I didn’t do that.”
Unbelievably, she laughed.
Cliff chose that minute to bring them coffee and pick up the plates. For someone who had wanted to leave and didn’t think she could eat, Sarah had killed that grouper. Cliff asked if they’d like drinks or dessert and they both shook their heads.
“So, why is that funny?” Cooper asked.
“First of all, it doesn’t matter whether I believe you. I have no stake in your past affairs. And second, I’m laughing at myself for depending on help from a guy who has a long history of fear of intimacy and commitment.”
“Yeah, that’s been said about me, but I think I’m completely dependable.” He lifted his coffee. Sipped. “I asked how that could be the case, since I had no resistance to getting married.”
“Oh, so you were engaged,” she said.
“Twice.”
“And they broke it off?” she asked.
“One of each—I was asked to leave the first time. It was about that something I didn’t seem to have and that I still don’t understand. And the second time, I had to end it because of all the arguing. But it seemed to be about that mysterious missing factor again.”
“Easy come, easy go,” she said.
He looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup for a long moment. Then he said, “No, Sarah. There wasn’t anything easy about it.”
She cleared her throat. “And yet you find yourself completely dependable?” she asked.
“I do. Hey, I’m here trying to sort out the wishes of some dead guy because he was my friend. I could load up the camper and go, right? It’s not like Ben would put a curse on me. And I didn’t even agree to this job.”
“They why are you doing it?”
“Because no one else will. And it’s the right thing to do—he was a decent guy. Besides,” he said, “it’s not like I can’t spare a few months.”
“Well, I can’t take a few months off,” she said. “Are you rich?”
“Far from it. But there’s just the fifth wheel, paid for, and no kids. I have three sisters who make sure our parents are fine. I can afford to do this for Ben.”
“You must have been real close,” she said. “Best friends.”
Cooper put his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together, looking down for a moment. Then he met her eyes. “I guess. Guys are different, you know....”
“Oh, yes, I know.”
“I liked Ben. He was my lead mechanic. He made me laugh. I got a kick out of him and tossing back a few with him was always a good time. We stayed in touch. He visited a few times in ten years, but I’d never come up here before. Our whole friendship was mostly emails and phone calls. We had things in common—I had the Gulf of Mexico and he had the Pacific. When I was flying for oil companies, there were a couple of spills, and he called to ask if there was a local wildlife rescue organization I’d like him to make a donation to. He’s always cared about the wildlife, although I didn’t realize how much until I got here. I trusted him. But the truth is, besides my family, I don’t have a lot of friends. Just a few. Good ones, but not that many.”
After a long moment of silence she said, “Me, either.”
“I see you as having lots of girlfriends to drink wine with, shop with.”
She shook her head. “I work in a man’s world. There’s one other female pilot at the station, married. We get along fine, but...our lives are different. And sometimes the wives of the guys I work with don’t...” They were wary of her, like they didn’t trust her. It wasn’t easy being one of the few women in a unit and being single besides. The last time she had a close girlfriend, she found out she’d been sharing her with her fiancé. “No, I don’t have a lot of girlfriends. Just a few women I’m friendly with, that’s all.”
“Sometimes that’s all you need,” he said.
And then Cooper told her about his buddy, Luke, and Luke’s brothers. Sarah had a couple of guys at the station she’d bonded with, and she was getting to know Gina, whom she liked.
Cliff was standing beside their table and they both looked up at him. The leather folder containing the check sat on the table and their coffees had been refilled but neither of them seemed to be aware of it.
“Tell you what, folks,” Cliff said. “How about I leave the keys here and you lock up when you’re ready?”
It took a second to sink in, then they laughed. The restaurant was empty and Cooper had no memory of seeing people leave. He reached for his wallet.
“No, you don’t,” Sarah said, grabbing the check. She held it in her custody until she could wrangle her credit card out of her purse. “This one is mine. You kept me from being convicted of murder.”
“Two seconds,” Cliff said, running off with the check.
Cooper stood and pulled on his jacket. He picked up her long, black coat and held it for her. “Thank you, Commander. I’ll get the next one.”
“You do that, Cooper. Just keep an eye on my brother for me, that’s thanks enough.” Then Cliff was back with a receipt for her to sign. “Sorry we kept you up, Cliff,” she said.
“Have a nice night, folks,” he said, following them to the door and locking it.
“Is it late?” she asked Cooper.
“Apparently it’s late for Cliff. My watch says ten-twenty.”
They drove back to the high school for his truck, talking and laughing. There were still cars in the well-lit lot, still music coming from the gymnasium, but not a soul around the parking lot. Undoubtedly, some kids had managed to escape from under the chaperones’ gazes, but there was still action in there. They got out of the car and gravitated to the front, leaning against the hood and gazing at the school. Sarah sighed. “Another thing to say thank you for. Even though things got a little whacko at Cliff’s, I could have been trapped behind a decorated pillar in there until midnight.”
Cooper crossed his arms over his chest. “That was a nasty business at Cliff’s, but worth seeing. Now there’s no question about what you’re dealing with.” Then he shifted toward her. “In spite of that, I have to say, Sarah, I enjoyed dinner.”
She turned so they faced each other and smiled. “Maybe I’ll take you out again sometime.”
He pulled on her arm and brought her closer, against him. “You’re a good date,” he said.
“You thought of it as a date?”
He nodded. “From the beginning.”
“Well, I have some bad news, Cooper. I’ve given up dating.”
He couldn’t help but grin. “Going to go old maid?”
She smirked. “I could change my mind in ten or twenty years. For now, no dating. No men.”
“Probably a very smart decision.” Then he leaned toward her and got his face close enough so he could feel her breath on his face. “Kind of a waste, though.” And then he touched her lips with his.
“Mmm,” she said, closing those large eyes.
He pulled her closer, tilting his head to kiss her. He cradled her head in one hand and held her firmly but gently against his mouth. After the briefest moment, she parted her lips slightly so that their tongues could touch. When that happened he inhaled sharply, damned pleased at the response. One arm around her waist pulled her tight against him, and he moved over her opened mouth hungrily. He kissed her long and hard, even though he thought he shouldn’t. When he finally pulled back just an inch, he said, “News flash. I’m a man.”
“Friend,” she said. “Just a friend with some common interests.”
“And one of them is kissing.”
She laughed. “I’m human, after all.”
“Give me five minutes. I could wear you down.”
“In your dreams.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.
“Laundry,” she said. “Sunday catch up. Monday is work.”
“Hmm. Want me to help with laundry? I’ve been doing my own for years. I’m probably really good with the dainties.”
She chuckled a little. “No, thanks.”
He kissed her again, a little harder. Deeper. He let his tongue loose to play. Her arms slid up to his shoulders and she held on, joining a little tongue dancing. Everything he tasted said yes. He pulled back. “Probably smart not to get involved with someone like me,” he said.
“Not to worry, champ. I’m not going to get involved with anyone.”
“Good. I tend to piss women off.”
And then she pulled him back to her mouth and went after him with steam and power of her own and almost brought him to his knees. How’d she manage to taste like honey and smell like flowers after dinner at Cliff’s? He pulled her hard against him and devoured her, unsure whether he was relieved or disappointed that she wouldn’t feel his erection through that long, heavy coat she wore. And then her hands were against his chest, gently pushing him away. Not shoving, just a little push so he’d back off. She smiled into his eyes.
“So far, the way you don’t get involved is made to order,” he told her.
“I’m going home now, Cooper. Thanks for helping out. And everything.”
“Sure,” he said, taking a step back. “Want me to follow you home?”
She shook her head. “I’m good.” She gently slugged his chest. “Drive careful.”
“Yeah,” he said, breathless.
When she turned to get back into her car, he followed. He held the door and then closed it for her. He waved her off. And then he stood by his truck for a little while as she drove off.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Damn.”
* * *
Landon and Eve left the homecoming dance with Downy and Ashley at about nine-thirty. They got a pizza in town and took it to Landon’s house because no one was home, thanks to Cooper. What a pal.
They snarfed down pizza and Cokes, laughing over stories everyone had to share. The second the pizza was gone, Downy grabbed his girl, lifted her up and said, “Come here, my girlfriend, and drive me out of my mind some more.” He carried her to the living room, where he chose the sofa for some rock-star-quality making out. After five minutes, he pulled her down the hall of the little house.
Landon was stunned, his mouth hanging open. “Is he doing what it looks like he’s doing?”
Eve smiled. “I prefer not to think about that too much. And of course, anything my best friend said to me is confidential.”
“Of course, yeah,” he said.
She grinned at him. “You have to wonder, though, right?”
“But he wouldn’t do the nasty here, in my bedroom, when my sister could be walking in anytime?”
“Probably not,” she said.
He smiled at her, knowing it was crooked. “Eve, I’m sorry you got stuck going to a big dance with a guy whose face is mashed in.”
She pushed back her kitchen chair and went to him, sitting on his lap. “You’re still handsome, even with your face mashed in. You got altogether too much attention from the girls, too.”
“That’s because of you,” he said. “They couldn’t believe I was with you.”
“Does your mouth hurt?” she asked.
He tilted his head and then slowly touched the place where his lip was split. “Just a little, right here.”
“Hmm,” she said, leaning forward and kissing him gently right beside it. Then she pressed her lips against his cheek. Then the goose egg on his forehead. Then his lips again. Then she smiled.
“I could heal up and be less interesting,” he said. “Think you’d go out with me again?”
“I could. But you’re going to have to ask me next time.”
“It’s kinda cool having the prettiest girl at school ask me for a date,” he said. “I’d really like to take you out tomorrow, but maybe by next Saturday night my face won’t look like I’ve been in a wreck.” He put his arms around her waist. “I want my lip healed, that’s for sure.”
“Oh?” she teased. “And why is that?”
“You’re not the only one who’s a good kisser, you know. I’m not bad—when it doesn’t make me bleed.”
She laughed at him. “When’s your birthday? Maybe for your birthday.”
“What a coincidence,” Landon said. “Next Saturday night is my birthday!”
She pulled away a bit, but put her arms around his neck. “I think you’re lying. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Landon?”
“And the Saturday night after that is my birthday, too,” he said, leaning toward her, his lips ready. “Go easy now,” he whispered.
And she gave him a light kiss on the side of his mouth.
“More,” he whispered, and she was happy to comply, treating him to sweet, soft kisses for a few minutes.
“When you first moved here,” Landon asked, “was it easy? Did you fit right in?”
“I fit right in with Ash, but we had some issues—like the girlfriends she already had had for a long time were jealous of me because Ash liked me. It took a while before that passed. When my dad took this job and bought the house, I didn’t want to come. I was in seventh grade and I gave him a hard time. He was more patient than he should’ve been, but Lou just about lost it. You don’t want to mess with Aunt Lou. You moved a lot, right?”
“Coast Guard. You’re gonna move, that’s how it is. But I loved Alaska. Even though I was just a little kid when we were in Kodiak, I hated to leave. I’d go back there in a second. I’ll go wherever a football team will cover my tuition for college, but if I had my choice, I’d head back to Kodiak.”
“I haven’t been very many places,” Eve said. “We’ve been on some cool camping trips, but if we can’t drive there, we can’t go.”
He smiled his lopsided smile and touched her cheek. “Nothing wrong with that, Eve. I like camping. So does Sarah.”
“In summer, sometimes a bunch of us camp on the beach,” she said.
“Really? All night?”
She nodded. “And we try not to notice the deputy’s SUV parked at the edge of the beach.”
He tightened his arms around her. “Guess there’s no zipping sleeping bags together....”
“Don’t worry, Landon. He probably nods off. At least that’s what he does in his chair every night.”
“So. There is a God.”
* * *
Gina looked around the colorful gymnasium, now almost empty of people. The teens who had driven their dates started to leave by nine or so; the chaperones followed suit as the number of kids on the dance floor thinned out. Lou McCain was among the first to leave; she wanted to check on Ryan and Dee Dee. Quite a few kids, maybe fifty, hung around the dance until the last dog died and they were herded out the door. Aside from the refreshments, there was very little cleanup. The kids who put up the decorations would be back to strip them down on Sunday afternoon.
Mac stood near the back door of the gym talking with one of the deputies, Charlie Adams. He rocked back on his heels and laughed—a good sign. Charlie must have stopped by to say the town was quiet with nothing much going on.
God, but he was perfect. Perfect-looking. As men go, Deputy Yummy Pants was an amazing specimen, but he was apparently a eunuch. Or gay. But either was impossible to grasp. In the four years they’d been good friends, there’d been those couple of times he’d kissed her with awesome, sincere passion...then backed right off on the excuse of parenthood.
She often wondered if he had some chickie buried somewhere out of sight, some woman he saw regularly who scratched his itch so that around town he could appear completely unattached. Maybe she was a terrible kisser and he came to his senses?
Men flirted with her regularly. She was behind the counter at the diner, after all. Nearly every man in town passed her way at one time or another, as did the occasional out-of-towner—the UPS guy, the beverage guy, the guy who delivered the meat. She’d grown up in this town. She’d known a lot of the people forever. After having a baby in high school and keeping her, living with her mother as she did, it had taken quite a lot to retrench her reputation and emerge as one of Thunder Point’s best-liked and most-respected residents. Back in high school, she imagined people whispered that she was a slut. Now they thought of her as upstanding, thanks to years of church, PTA and town meetings. Oh, and very little traffic with the opposite sex, though she had dated a bit here and there.
Not in the past few years, however. It seemed pointless.
Before she could brood any longer, Mac was walking toward her with her coat slung over one arm. She wanted to be angry with him for tying up her heart the way he had, but she couldn’t. He might not be her boyfriend or lover, but he was always there for her. Always. The best friend she’d ever had.
“Thanks,” she said, taking her coat and shrugging into it.
“I’ll walk you out,” he said, taking her elbow.
“Thank God the diner doesn’t open at five on Sunday mornings,” she grumbled. “I’m exhausted.”
“You need more days off.”
“I need bigger tips,” she said as she laughed.
“Yeah, me, too.” He opened the back door for her. “And a good time was had by all,” he said. “No fights, no accidents and, as far as I know, no illegal drugs or drinking.”
“Or they’re getting better at hiding it,” she added.
“Never saw a hint of trouble.”
“Oh, there was little stuff. Predictable stuff. A couple of girls crying in the bathroom. One over her date, who was acting like an idiot, raving about some other girl’s cleavage. There was one notable clothing malfunction that had to be pinned back into place—an entire breast escaped and every high school boy in the room claimed to have seen it. And then you have the mean girls—Patrice, Stellie and Harmony.” She sighed. “I think Harmony is the worst one. She just can’t live up to her name.”
“What did the mean girls do?” he wanted to know.
“Being a guy, you probably wouldn’t catch on. They stick together in a little clot, whisper, shift their eyes toward their victim du jour—some younger, simpler, more vulnerable creature—and then they giggle. That sort of thing. Lean toward each other on the dance floor, whisper and stare, laugh. Spread rumors, like saying Lindsay got her dress at the Goodwill until Lindsay—who did get her dress at the Goodwill—ends up in the bathroom crying, begging to just go home.”
He looked a little shell-shocked. “That’s horrible!”
“With all the things you see on the job, I’m surprised you’re surprised. People can behave very badly. Especially teenagers.” It didn’t even bear mentioning what her generation of mean girls had to say about her when she turned up pregnant at fifteen.
“I can’t stand to think of some nice girl like Lindsay crying over her secondhand dress! My kids have all worn secondhand clothes. Lou gets pretty excited about good hand-me-downs and, God knows, a sheriff’s deputy with three kids isn’t shopping at the high-end stores. How’d you know that was happening?”
She gave a shrug. “I’ve done my share of bathroom crying. Not for a very long time, however.”
“Eve and Ash aren’t putting up with crap like that, are they?” he asked. “If you knew, you’d tell me, right?”
She stopped walking and turned to look up at him. “Listen, Mac, the girls are pretty secure. They present a strong front. Ash has got Downy on alert and not only is he a big strong boy, but there’s still a little hero worship at the school. In spite of that, they occasionally have their dramas. But if I knew either of them were being persecuted by mean girls, I’d tell Lou.”
“Not me?”
“Lou would probably tell you, if she thought it was serious. But men tend to say things like, Aw, don’t let ’em get to you. Girls need sympathy. Vindication. A soft shoulder to cry on, encouragement. Men just want their girls to rise above it.”
“Is that true?” he asked.
She nodded.
He thought for a minute. “I think you might be right. I might say something like that. And I might think it was the right thing to say.”
“Yeah. It’s not about how much you love your daughters, Mac. It’s more what you’re programmed to say.”
He walked with her again and opened the door to her Jeep. “How do you know these things? You haven’t had a man around in forever. No dad, no husband, no steady boyfriend unless you keep him hidden. Yet you know how men work.”
She slipped into her Jeep and smiled at him. “Pure genius,” she said. “See you later.”