Intrigued
Quinn dropped her elbow from the car’s door panel and fidgeted with her seat belt. Other than swinging by the kitchen for some lunch and a peek at her cobblers, Cooper had stayed busy with work all day. She should’ve been grateful for the distance and chance to gain her wits about her. Still, rehearsing her last conversation with Cruella wasn’t getting the job done.
Spit it out already. She unwrapped her fingers from the seat belt and tapped her thighs. “It’s really peaceful here, isn’t it? In that off-the-beaten-path kind of way.”
Cooper checked his rearview mirror before making a right-hand turn. “By peaceful, you mean boring?”
Man, she stunk at this. “No, really. I mean, it’s not for everyone, but there’s a certain appeal in avoiding crowded cities, traffic . . . the stress of corporate life,” she slipped in quickly. “Is that why you moved out to the middle of nowhere?” Holding her breath, she looked across the console.
He didn’t let an iota of a reaction pass his face. “Guess you could say that.”
Okay, this wasn’t working. Quinn twisted in her seat toward him. “Seriously, Cooper? C’mon, you gotta give me something. No one just up and leaves a business like Shore Corp for no reason. Especially to move here. Were they not paying you enough? You found out someone was cooking the books? Had a blowout with the boss?”
Circling the wheel, he sent a smile her way. The kind that said, “Don’t you wish you knew.”
Two could play this game. “It must be some big secret for you to be all closed-mouthed about it.” She pinned two satisfied arms over her chest and cocked her chin the way he usually did. “Cooper Anderson has a few skeletons in his closet, doesn’t he?” How was that for bait?
One amused dimple chased the other. “How else can a guy keep a girl intrigued?”
Crazy. The man was driving her plum crazy. She pulled her Converse up to the edge of the seat and retied her shoelace, feigning disinterest. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
His warm laugh filled the car and dismantled her attempt at not returning it. Why’d she ever bother? Stinking charm.
Quinn let her foot drift back to the floorboard. “Well, you can’t blame people for wondering about you. Shore Corp undergoes a major investigation right after you quit. Then you reappear on the radar out of nowhere as a self-made billionaire up for Top Entrepreneur of the Year. People are going to talk. You have to admit. It does sound a little susp—”
The car braked out of nowhere. Her head pitched forward and then hit the headrest while a family of geese took their sweet time crossing the road like they owned it.
The distinct furrow pinching Cooper’s brow softened at the sight of them.
“Just be glad they aren’t cows,” Quinn said, only half joking. A second later, her stomach lurched. She’d been so preoccupied with cracking Cooper’s secrets, she’d sidetracked herself from worrying about the cookout. Or maybe she’d just flat-out repressed the idea of going home at all. Four years of practice was bound to catch up eventually.
She rubbed the skin between her eyes. “Uh, Cooper? Speaking of cows . . . If my mom comes running out with a herd like some sort of dowry, feel free to bolt in the opposite direction. I’ll make sure they don’t chase you. My mom included.”
Another laugh soothed and prodded in its usual unfair way. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad. It’s just lunch with family, right?”
“Right.” She dished a you’ve-been-warned expression at him. “Just a little family time. I mean, you might be walking into an episode of Duck Dynasty, but” —she raised her shoulders and batted her lashes— “How else is a girl to keep a guy intrigued?”
With eyes that seemed far more intrigued by her than they should be, Cooper set one hand on the wheel, the other on the gearshift, and smiled with enough fuel to rocket them the rest of the way to the house. “If that’s a challenge, QT, you’re on.”
A challenge against a guy with breath-stopping eyes. Yeah, that was a grand idea.
“The road’s clear,” she managed to eke out. Because, obviously, that was the only logical response to make. Smooth, Quinn. Real smooth.
He started forward again while she contemplated diving into a ditch on the side of the road. But when her childhood home came into view, another unbidden rush of nostalgia rolled in with the scent of overgrown grass waving in the neighboring fields.
Cooper eased his SUV along the bumpy dirt driveway and parked behind Mama’s old caravan. “Ready?”
Did hyperventilating count? “Yep.” Quinn sucked in a breath like she was about to plummet to the bottom of the lake and got out of the car. She went to unbuckle Brayden from his car seat, but Cooper was already on it.
She raised an impressed brow. “You’re getting good at that.”
“Don’t sound so shocked.”
Before she could tame his gloating expression, Aunt Loraine came swishing down the driveway on an automatic path straight for the baby. “There he is. Just look at those cheeks. Did you miss me?”
Cooper strolled up beside Quinn. “How you doing, Ms. Thompson?”
“Just fine now that I’ve got my hands on these adorable munchkin legs.” She swung Brayden up and planted a raspberry on his chubby thigh. Brayden’s giggle must’ve sufficed as a reward. Aunt Loraine’s face lit up, and so did Quinn’s heart.
The screen door opened on the porch, followed by Mama zipping down the stairs toward them. “Well, aren’t you three just adorable together.”
Oh boy, here we go. Quinn glanced behind her mom. No cows. That was a good sign.
Mama gave Aunt Loraine a pointed look. “Don’t think you’ll be hogging that sugar all night, now.”
“He remembers who gave him ice cream.” She wiggled a finger over his belly button. “Don’t you? And guess what Aunt Loraine has for you today? Watermelon.”
Brayden’s wide eyes mimicked her excitement.
Cooper leaned over to Quinn and whispered, “I’m a little scandalized. You, using a baby for distraction like this. Very cliché.”
“Funny,” she mumbled through the smile she’d managed to keep plastered on so far.
Aunt Loraine turned for the backyard.
“Wait.” Quinn handed her his diaper bag. “Be sure to put sunscreen on him.”
“Oh, and here.” Cooper reached back in the SUV, swung around with a miniature version of his Tar Heels hat, and fit it onto Brayden’s head. “There ya go, hoss. Now you’re rocking.”
He thought to get Brayden a matching hat?
“What?” He eyed her surprised expression.
She pinched her lips together. “Nothing.”
Aunt Loraine brandished a telling grin, then moseyed toward the backyard with Brayden, leaving Quinn and Cooper standing in front of Mama like two deer point blank in shooting range.
She slid an unabashed smile down Cooper’s tall profile. “It’s a good thing my daughter met you before I did.”
“Oh, Mama, really? Can you at least let him make it inside before you completely gross him out?”
Cooper rested his hands on Quinn’s shoulders from behind, his lips to her ear. “Luckily, I’m already taken.”
More like he was lucky his touch incapacitated her. Quinn maneuvered out of danger territory and started for the house—away from ridiculous attractions that’d end up going nowhere. Aside from being unprofessional, letting misguided feelings take root would only result in hurts she knew to avoid.
“There’s nothing wrong with letting a man know he’s attractive, sugar.”
Quinn didn’t turn to witness the wink she was sure Mama had just flaunted at him.
“I’m only teasing, dear.” She scooted past Quinn on the porch and opened the front door. “You know how foolish I am about your daddy.” A glint of mixed emotions trickled from her eyes to a smile that seemed to struggle to stay in place. She blinked away. “You all come on in and make yourselves at home. Food’s almost ready.”
Cooper held the door open for Quinn. Even from this angle, she couldn’t miss the enjoyment playing with his features.
“Your mom thinks I’m hot,” he whispered on their way in.
Quinn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, she also thinks William Shatner’s hot, so take it for what it’s worth.”
His laughter rang into the sound of his cell ringing. He took one look at the screen and offered them both a nod of apology. “Excuse me for just a minute.”
Once he returned outside, Mama handed a small gift bag to Quinn along with a questionable bob of her brows. This couldn’t be good.
One glimpse of lace inside explained why. She crammed the tissue paper back in. “A push-up bra? Really?”
“Now, sweetie, don’t go flying off the handle. A little help goes a long way.”
Tell me we’re not actually having this conversation. “Thanks, but I’m good.” She shoved the unsolicited gift back at her.
Bypassing the bag, Mama reached for the bra Quinn currently had on. “Are you sure? Let me see.”
“Oh my word.” She skirted out of her reach. “Yes, Mama, positive. Everything’s . . . perky.”
“Okay. No need to pitch a hissy fit.” She gave a mollifying shrug and turned. “But don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
Yeah, help her into a wedding chapel and right out of a job. Which reminded her . . .
“Mama?” Quinn called before she made it to the kitchen. She folded the hem of her T-shirt back and forth while taking in the dated pictures lining the living room walls. “Listen, I have something I want to tell Dad . . . about work, but I need to wait a couple more weeks. So, can we not bring up anything about the magazine tonight? I’d rather keep the whole topic off limits for now.” That would work, wouldn’t it? Besides, it was all true.
Mama tied her apron on, her stare silently dissecting Quinn’s request. “Sure, darlin’. But don’t think you’re getting out of filling us in on Mr. Wonderful and that precious baby of his.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Uh-huh.” With a stern mother-hen look, she waved her toward the hall. “Go on now and wash up so you can help me in the kitchen. We can’t be sitting around like a bump on a log.”
“Yes, ma’am.” At the door to the bathroom, Quinn paused and then kept trekking toward her old bedroom. Considering she’d only packed for a weekend, she wasn’t beneath raiding her closet for some extra outfits.
A single glance inside almost changed her mind. She pulled out a plastic hanger with a ribbed tube top pinned to it—two sizes too small. She laughed. “That’d be one way to prove I don’t need a push-up bra.” She hung it back up and kept sifting.
Thankfully, Mama had kept a small section of clothes Quinn had worn the year before she moved away. They’d do. Well, minus the overalls. And the Peace Frog shirt. Okay, so, there were only a couple of salvageable things, but it was better than nothing.
She separated out the less atrocious clothes to grab when they left tonight and turned back for the bathroom. A sight across the room brought her up short—a tie hanging on her bedpost. She’d almost forgotten about it. Or maybe it was another part of her past she’d suppressed. Not ready to unearth it, she turned yet again, but her old vanity practically grabbed hold of her next.
Memories rushed in as Quinn glided a finger along the edge of the furniture an inch at a time—things her parents had taught her in this room, beliefs she wanted to be true for their sake. In the mirror, she studied a reflection that knew better. But how could she tell both her parents they were wrong about her?
She never should’ve come back, and she definitely shouldn’t have let Cooper run with this fake boyfriend façade. Now she’d doubly disappoint her family when they learned it was just a ruse. Hardly a full day with him, and they were already starting to fall for the idea of them as a couple. Far worse, she might’ve been too.
For everyone’s sake, she needed to get the truth out in the open—the feature, the pretend relationship, all of it—before things spiraled even further.
“Quinn, dear?”
“Coming.” She ran her hands across her cheeks, faced the mirror again, and drew her shoulders back. Start with making it through lunch.
Were Megan’s mom and brother trying to spite him? Some kind of payback for resentment they held? This wasn’t the time for petty family drama. This was Brayden’s future they were talking about here.
“Just moving into an assisted living facility rules Megan’s mom out as an adoptive parent. Her brother’s in no state to raise a child. After alcoholism ended his marriage this past year, the only thing he needs right now is rehab.” Jim cleared his throat away from the phone. “You could ask your brother—”
“No.” Cooper yanked his hat back down and slumped against the tree trunk. He wasn’t heaping another mess on Drew to clean up. He probably shouldn’t have even told Drew and his family back in Ocracoke about this whole dilemma to begin with.
A stagnant pause stretched through the line. “Then we look into private adoption.”
The suggestion weaved a knot in his chest. “Would that be best?”
“Best?” Another weighty pause. “It’s an option, Cooper. Right now, that’s all we have to work with. I’ll touch base when I have an update.”
Had he known about Megan’s family’s situations, he wouldn’t have bothered asking Jim to look into it. Truthfully, he’d acted too fast. If he’d thought about it first, he’d have realized Megan’s mom and brother weren’t the best options for Brayden. He needed two parents who were ready and equipped to welcome him into a healthy family. Cooper just had to find them. They were running out of time.
The phone and all the unanswered questions hanging on to the end of their conversation dragged his arm to his side. He lifted his face toward the splinters of sunlight filtering through the oak leaves.
Memories with Dad flickered images of the life Brayden should have the chance to live too. A grounded home without moving around, a stable father without a wild reputation or the media banging at his doorstep—things Cooper couldn’t provide him.
Please, let me give him that life. That’s all I’m asking.
Brayden’s innocent smile swelled to mind and compressed around his heart. He looked to Cooper as if he could make things right, but he didn’t know him yet. Didn’t know how he always ended up disappointing those he loved.
A dragonfly zigzagged past him on a hay-scented breeze. Right behind it, barbeque aromas trailed with reminders of why he was here.
He pushed off the tree and tucked the effects of his phone call away for now. He didn’t have all the answers, and he might not know what awaited him at this cookout, but whatever was in store the rest of the day, surely, it’d keep his mind off the things he couldn’t control.
He hoped.