Choice
“You asked him what?” Quinn whipped around from the kitchen sink. “Cooper, no.”
“Drew’s a great father.”
The turmoil in his voice withered her own to a whisper. “So are you.” What would it take for him to believe that? She turned off the faucet but couldn’t stop the ache from pouring through.
Even though she’d rather have Brayden stay in Cooper’s family than end up with random strangers, she was supposed to have gotten Cooper to see he was the best choice. “I thought you were dead set on leaving Drew out of this.”
“Yeah, well, things change when you run out of options.” He tossed his ball cap on the counter and braced weary arms against it.
Frustration rose in the center of her chest. She’d stayed silent while his realtor showed the house to that snobby couple earlier. She’d forced her mouth shut when he’d been on the phone with his lawyer, but she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Carpe diem, right? You’ve hidden behind that façade so long, you don’t even realize when you’re not actually living it.”
“Excuse me?”
She clenched the dish towel. “What happened to taking a leap? To not confusing fear and love? Was all that talk about faith just a line you were feeding me?”
“What? No.” Defense broadened Cooper’s shoulders, but she wouldn’t cower this time.
“It’s easy to leap when you’re playing right into what people expect of you, pretending you don’t care what happens, that roots only hold you back. But I know better.” She backed him up with each forward stride. “I’ve seen you with Maddie. With Brayden. You can’t tell me those ties don’t mean something to you, Cooper. I don’t buy it.”
He stopped, jaw twitching. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“At least I can admit it,” she said softer than she meant to.
“Can you?” This time, he edged her backward. “I don’t see you moving home and embracing your roots. I don’t see you sticking things out with your dad no matter how hard it gets.”
She hid her inward wince. “That’s not fair.”
“C’mon, QT. You’re running from the life you really want because of what? Fear of not living up to people’s expectations? If you want to talk about letting assumptions rule my life, fine. But at least be willing to look in the mirror.”
Despite his eyes softening, a look of fired-up yearning intensified. “How can you not see what you’re allowing a scumbag like Brian to rob from you? He’s the one who lost by letting you go. If you can’t see that, you’re—”
“He didn’t know.” She turned away from the look of pity bound to be on Cooper’s face. Clutching the edge of the sink, she lowered her head, her voice faltering. “I couldn’t tell him about the hysterectomy. If I had, he would’ve told me it was okay, that it didn’t matter. But I know him, all right?”
“So, you just broke things off and left without even giving him the choice?”
“It was better that way.”
He turned her around. “For who?”
“You saw him with Cindy Mae. That’s the life he wanted.”
“That life could’ve been with you.”
“No, it couldn’t.” She shoved her bangs back with her wet hand. “You don’t get it. Adoption wouldn’t have been enough for him.”
“You don’t know that.” He inched closer and cupped her shoulders. “You can’t keep making people’s decisions for them, Quinn. Not for him or your dad.” Voice tenderized, Cooper kept earnest eyes on hers as he wiped soapsuds from her hair. “Or for me.”
This close to him, she couldn’t even make her lungs decide to breathe. She waded through an array of emotions in search of her voice. “I just want to protect the people I care about.”
“You sure you’re not trying to protect yourself?”
Maybe she was. But with Cooper only a breath away, it didn’t matter anyway. She’d lost that battle the moment she walked through his door.
His gazed roamed her face with such urgency, she had to grip his arm. “I don’t want you to leave without seeing what I see in you.”
Quinn swallowed, her grasp tightening. “That’s not fair to ask if you don’t do the same.”
His chest rose and fell like an echo of hers until he finally brought her close. In the quiet of that still kitchen, she surrendered her fears to an embrace that always knew how to take them away.
Maybe she shouldn’t feel this way, but in his arms, she was home. Safe. Right where she wanted to stay.
When she lifted her head from his chest, his eyes seemed to search hers and then pause, as if reading the words she hadn’t spoken. She traced her fingers along the arms that never hesitated to comfort her. The same ones that cradled Brayden with acceptance and sheltered Maddie with protection. Was it so wrong for her to want to stay wrapped in them a little longer?
Her fingertips grazed the skin above the top of his collar.
He closed his eyes. “Quinn.” The husky whisper held a note of warning.
She dropped her gaze to the tiles, her arm to her side.
His hand tightened around her lower back when she started to turn away. The torn look on his face anchored her in place. And for a moment, neither of them moved.
With his hazel eyes still holding her, he inched closer and slowly pulled the pencil from her hair. Soft locks swept down her neck but didn’t come close to the gentleness of Cooper’s hand running down her jawline to her chin. The top of his thumb brushed the corner of her mouth.
Heart racing, she couldn’t breathe. His gaze traced her lips in a kiss as tender as the one that followed. Even more than the first two times, the touch consumed her. The emotion, the connection. It’s what she wanted to run to, not from.
A moan escaped his throat when he finally broke away. “You should go.”
What?
A look trapped between fear and desire ran so deeply in his eyes, Quinn could almost drown in it. “We should both get to sleep.” His gravelly voice strained through breaths as erratic as hers.
Quinn wanted to stay, to fight with him—anything to understand how he could kiss her like that and then push her away. But the war tearing down his face turned her around. He was probably right. What were they doing other than making saying goodbye ache even more than it already would?
She’d barely made it three steps away when Cooper whirled her around by the hand and backed her against the fridge.
“I thought you just said I should go.”
“One more minute.” His lips sloped to the skin beneath her ear as though trying to stretch every millisecond of that single minute.
She knew as well as he did a minute wasn’t long enough. She wanted more. Wanted him. Not for a story or a career break or validating some soapbox she’d been guarding for too long. But because she’d fallen for him.
The emotions woven in that truth ushered through every move, every breath. She leaned him back far enough for him to search her eyes to know what she was asking.
He only hesitated a moment. His hands slid around her waist and lifted her onto the island in the middle of the kitchen. Though the counter was solid granite, it might as well have been a sieve, her body melting through it.
A cry from Brayden’s room tunneled from down the hall. Cooper’s kiss stalled. When nothing but silence followed, his reluctance gave way, but something had changed. His hands, his mouth, his body—they all moved on instinct, but his thoughts were thick enough to feel. One at a time, they resisted the rest of him until he finally slowed to a stop.
Too many ticks from the clock passed in his pause. He cradled both her cheeks in his hands and kissed her so slowly, she slipped her fingers over his to keep him from letting go. But she knew he would. Knew the moment had ended.
When he leaned back, a sad smile capable of breaking her heart replaced the one that had turned it into a diesel engine dozens of times. Still cupping her cheek, Cooper pressed one last kiss to her forehead and backed away.
Quinn slid off the counter to the floor, praying it’d ground her. “I should go check on him.”
He nodded without saying anything, and she begged her feet to move.
She walked away with her lips caught up in her fingers, holding on to a kiss that had ruined any that’d ever follow it.
At the bedroom door, she gripped the knob and waited for her breathing to slow before entering. Moonlight stretched a path across Brayden’s shadowy room to his crib. Quinn peered over the rail to a sleeping baby boy who’d forever wrecked her heart as much as his father had.
Whatever had made him cry earlier must’ve already passed. She pulled the edge of his jungle blanket over his shoulders and gently smoothed her fingertips across his fine hair.
From the window, Quinn caught a glimpse of Cooper disappearing onto the end of the pier right before diving into the lake. After what they’d just shared, she had no idea what he was thinking or what he wanted, but taking a leap obviously wasn’t hard for him. Maybe his real fear was taking one with her.
Cooper rifled through his suitcase for the fifth time. He’d packed everything he needed for the road trip, hadn’t he? At his bed, he turned in half circles, disjointed thoughts bouncing around his bedroom.
His gaze skidded to a stop over the road atlas lying under his toiletry bag in the corner chair. The route. He hadn’t finished mapping it out yet. Tapping his thigh, he shuffled aimlessly around the room once more until he refocused on what he needed.
Jeez, where was his head today? He’d stayed busy all morning and afternoon yet barely made a dent in the last-minute arrangements he still needed to take care of before heading out on Wednesday.
He trekked into his office with the atlas to find a highlighter. At his desk, he ran a thumb over the sticky note on the pen holder and smiled. Of course he couldn’t concentrate. Who could after kissing Quinn like he had last night?
The scene flooded in and slumped Cooper into his desk chair. He hadn’t meant to let that happen, but her touch, her eyes . . . He couldn’t say no when she reciprocated everything he wanted too. His heart had moved on instinct, and when she let down her barriers, he’d lost all restraint.
Until Brayden cried.
Part of him had wanted to ignore the reminder of consequences, but the part that loved Quinn wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t turn what they had into a mistake they’d both leave regretting.
The gravity of what they’d really be leaving behind thrust a blow to his gut.
Cooper dropped the highlighter and soared around the doorframe into the hall. At Quinn’s bedroom, another jab trailed the first. This time, a sucker punch. Other than a suitcase on her bed, the place looked like the empty shell of a guest room she’d passed through for a forgettable amount of time.
A hard swallow worked its way down his throat. He swung around to grab his keys.
“Whoa.” Drew just barely averted the collision. “You all right?”
Was he? Cooper squeezed his forehead. “Sorry. Fine. Have you seen Quinn?”
“Last I noticed, she was out on the dock.”
A sigh of relief unlocked the tension in his shoulders. “Thanks. Would you mind keeping an eye on Brayden for a few?” He pointed behind him, not needing to explain.
Drew simply nodded his understanding. When Ti moseyed into the hall, Drew curled her into his side and dipped his head at Cooper again. “We’ve got you covered.”
He always did. Cooper shouldn’t have bucked so long against asking him to adopt Brayden into his family. He’d take care of him.
After jogging from the living room all the way to the edge of the property, Cooper finally slowed at the sight of Quinn standing on the end of the pier.
A dozen dragonflies zipped around the dock. But with her attention transfixed by the lake, she didn’t seem to notice. He couldn’t blame her for being lost in thought. He hadn’t been able to escape his own thoughts much today either. Then again, maybe that was good, because at least now he knew what he needed to tell her before it was too late. If it wasn’t already.
In any other circumstance, he would’ve taken the fact that her bags were already packed as his answer. But he couldn’t just walk away. Not this time.
At the opposite edge of the pier, he withdrew his cell and pulled up a Boyz II Men song on a radio app.
Quinn turned at the sound, and Cooper grinned. “Don’t worry, QT. Your secret playlists are safe with me.”
The slightest quirk of her lips sent his heart racing with hope.
Gesturing to the dragonflies, he made his way across the planks toward her. “Since you already have company, I hope you don’t mind if I join you too.”
She took in the dragonflies’ spastic pattern soaring above her. “Wow, look at all of them. What are they doing?”
“Dancing.”
She made a face at him. “Dancing?”
“Mm-hmm. Well, their version of it anyway.” He strode close enough to wrap his arm around her waist if she’d let him. “I’m pretty sure they want us to join them.”
“Oh really?”
“I mean, it’d be a little rude not to. We are kind of on their turf right now.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t lose her grin.
“Why not?” He edged another step closer. “You’ve mastered the WaveRunner, conquered a rainstorm in your heels, given yourself permission to make a royal mess in the kitchen. Adding dancing with dragonflies to your list of leaps should be a piece of cake.”
He raised a playful shoulder. “I bet if you throw that cowgirl hat of yours on, not even wearing Fruit of the Loom underwear could hold you back.”
She shoved him, a laugh tumbling out.
A song came on with classic nineties’ beats, and he cranked the volume. “C’mon, I defy you not to dance to this song.”
“You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I think you mean charming.”
She snorted. “More like full of yourself.”
“Confident,” he challenged.
Her smile was winning the war. But when she still didn’t fully cave, Cooper feigned a look of concern at her hair.
“What?” She patted the top of her head.
“It’s just an inch worm.” He stretched out a hand. “Let me—”
An impressive combo of screaming and flailing began before he even finished. Quinn practically jumped in his arms. “Get it out.”
Laughing, he picked a tiny twig out of her hair instead and slid his hands down to the small of her back.
Her eyes tightened, his plan uncovered. “Smooth.”
“I thought so.” He took her hand in his and sobered. “Dance with me.”
She held on to his gaze, and a slow breath gradually relaxed her muscles against his. For what didn’t feel long enough, they danced in a moment where the flutter of dragonfly wings replaced every other measure of time.
“You’re not going to go dive into the lake like you did last night, are you?” she said against his chest.
The tenor in her voice made him lean back. “I had to cool down somehow.”
The skin above her eyes crinkled. “If you didn’t want—”
“You?” Was that seriously what she thought? She had no idea. His fingers slid down to hers. “Quinn, look at me. It took everything I had to walk away last night.”
“But all the other girls you’ve been with, why . . . ?” Her voice trailed, the insinuation cutting to his core.
After painting that persona, what else would he expect her to think?
“First of all, you’re not just any other girl, Quinn.” Cooper lifted his face to the fading sunlight, closed his eyes, and exhaled. “I’ve dated casually in the past because it’s easier. No emotional connection. No risk of getting hurt. We go out, have a good time, and leave it at that.” He groaned at the words leaving his mouth. Even more at how long he’d lived that lifestyle, trying to remain numb and unattached.
When Quinn’s chin dropped to her chest, he lifted it to meet her eyes again. “But it’s never more than a date. I don’t take women home with me. I don’t cross lines that shouldn’t be crossed. Megan was the only girl I’ve ever been intimate with, and look how that turned out.”
Regret singed the last confession.
Sorrow filled her eyes. “You still view Brayden as a mistake?”
“That’s not what I meant, but putting ourselves in that same predicament would’ve been. I shouldn’t have let it get to that point last night.”
She blew out a hard breath. “You’re right. I let myself get too caught up in the things you make me feel, in the fear of losing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
Hearing her admit she felt things for him spurred an untamable smile. “Well in case you haven’t noticed, you kind of make me lose my head when I’m around you too.”
Her brow creased.
That probably didn’t come out right. Along with everything else leaking out of his mouth so far.
The sunset’s rich colors reflected off the water like one of Ti’s calming paintings. Breathing in the serenity, Cooper brushed Quinn’s bangs back and left his hand behind her ear. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m falling in love with you. And you’re right, I’ve been hiding. I’ve run when I should’ve stayed. Lived a façade to avoid pain.”
He traced a thumb over her cheek. “But I don’t want to anymore. Not with us. I want to do things right.” His forehead found hers.
Her fingers curled around his collar, and he brought his lips to hers. Slow and soft, he prayed the kiss would say what words failed to. “This is real. I know you feel it too.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Chemistry isn’t our problem, Cooper. We’ve made our choices.”
“But are they the right ones?”
He caught a glimpse of hope cutting through her walls. When she lifted a palm to his cheek, his pulse sprinted. He’d broken every rule he had with her. Had handed over his heart, knowing she could pull out of his driveway, taking it with her.
“Cooper, I need you to know—”
“Well, well,” a woman from behind them said. “I’ve underestimated you, Thompson. You certainly go above and beyond when the job requires it.”
He turned toward a petite woman with bold streaks of blond interspersed through her short dark hair.
“What are you doing here, Cru—?” Quinn seemed to strain to correct herself. “Christa?”
“You won’t return my calls. What did you expect? We have a deadline.” The woman fluttered her lashes. “Time is—”
“Money. Yeah, I know. I already sent you what you wanted.”
“What I wanted?” A haughty laugh barely escaped the woman’s tight lips. “I gave you this chance because I saw potential in you, Thompson. I thought you had a clue how to be a journalist. Instead you feed me this.” She flicked a manila envelope in her hands.
Journalist? Cooper looked at Quinn for some hint of explanation.
“Potential? Please.” Quinn’s jaw flexed. “The only reason you assigned me this piece was so you could watch me fail.”
Her heels screeched across the boards. “.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “You knew about that? About—?”
“Of course I knew.” Christa calmed herself, a superior smile curving to the left. “Why do you think I’ve been letting all those nimrods on staff go? I have less than a month to get this magazine in the kind of shape that’s going to make Corporate wish they’d never so much as considered dropping me.”
Quinn’s brows rooted together. “You wanted me to succeed so it’d make you look good.”
“So it’d make us look good. Which is why you’re going to rework this piece.”
Open distaste shaded Quinn’s expression. “You wanted a feature. I gave it to you. We’re done.”
“We’re done when I say we’re done.” Her eyes turned to flames. “Now, you listen to me, sweetheart. I didn’t take a risk on you so you could pass off some feel-good story about a guy you were supposed to get the inside scoop on just because he throws a charming look your way.”
Cooper’s arms nearly went numb at his sides. She couldn’t mean . . .? “Quinn?”
Her shoulders caved, confessing everything she didn’t have to.
“You haven’t told him yet?” Her boss’s voice grew thick with agitation. “You were supposed to have him on board by now, Thompson. That was part of the deal.”
Deal. The word dug into his side like a rusty screw. He gripped the lamppost as pieces of the last several weeks fused together. The way Quinn had shown up, her questions about Shore Corp, her writing. She played him for some byline?
His muscles convulsed. He had to get out of there.
He strode past the woman’s twistedly satisfied expression.
“Cooper, wait.” Quinn drew him to a stop by the hand. “I’m sorry. Please, let me ex—”
“I’ve heard enough.”
Tears cloaked her eyes. “I tried to tell you so many times. Tried to make it right by writing a feature on the real you.” She breathed in a shaky breath. “It might’ve started out as an assignment, but things changed.”
Cooper yanked his arm away. “You’re right. They did.”
She knew how he felt about his privacy and staying away from the media. Worse, she knew how he truly felt about her, and she let him go on this whole time like a fool thinking she—
He cut off the thought, furious at how naive he’d been. It didn’t matter what he’d thought she felt. He was the one who’d lowered his guard and let himself be played. Anger sparked against betrayal like a flint, the fire too strong, too consuming.
“Cooper, please.”
Ignoring the way Quinn’s raw voice jabbed the blade deeper, he kept trucking up the yard.
Drew rounded the side of the house. “Is everything—?”
“Not now.” Cooper clipped his brother’s shoulder on his way by and didn’t slow down till he straddled his bike. He should’ve been riding this the whole time, not driving his SUV, thinking he could play the role of a family man.
Heat waves rippled off the pavement as he jerked in the clutch. She wanted to write a story on the real Cooper Anderson? This was it. He skidded out of the driveway without looking back.