“I love him, Gabe, and it’s taken this hiccup in our relationship to realize it.”

“And how does Cooper feel?”

“I don’t know.” Camilla patted her eyes.

I tried not to puke.

She hiccupped. Goddamn, this bitch was unreal.

“He still won’t speak to me.”

“Fucking Christ,” I muttered and pulled up my contact list. The last thing I expected to hear when I was in Rebecca’s kitchen was Camilla’s voice, but like a moth to a flame, I followed it.

I should have stayed where I was in the kitchen like Rebecca told me, but no…I had to chase after her when pain slashed her face when I called her Becca.

Won’t make that mistake again.

Being around her was a minefield, and I had no idea where the bombs were buried. Until I saw Camilla blathering on the screen, pulling more of her manipulative shit, I didn’t realize why chasing after Rebecca was so damn important.

Camilla’s phony tears on the screen told me why. Rebecca would never pull a stunt like that. She wouldn’t even dream of it.

“Cooper Hawke,” Paul said, answering immediately. “Wondering when I’d hear from you.”

My lawyer’s voice held amusement. That shit would end soon.

“Camilla’s on television,” I barked. “What does she want?”

Movement next to me caught my attention.

Rebecca. Her face was pale, her dark eyes were wide and looking lost, and in her hands were clothes. “If you change, I can dry the clothes you have on.”

Paul was talking in my ear, but I wasn’t listening. “Hold on, Paul.”

I was being an ass. He was used to it. When you were an attorney for celebrity clients you were used to working with assholes and divas.

I pulled the phone away from my ear. “You okay?”

She set the clothes down on the couch. “I’ll give you privacy.”

“Rebecca,” I called to her back. Always at her back. Why did it always feel like she was walking away from me, and why did I hate seeing it so much? “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged and looked at the television where Camilla was still fucking talking. “Are you?”

“Peachy.” I went back to my phone. I’d deal with Rebecca’s pale as a statue look later. “Sorry about that Paul. What does she want?”

He chuckled. Obviously, I hadn’t heard what he first said. “According to what I’ve been hearing, she wants you, and she’s pissed she can’t find you. Or get ahold of you.”

“She can’t get ahold of me because I blocked her number weeks ago and as far as where I am, none of her damn business. But what does she really want?”

“Maybe you should come to my office and we can talk about this.”

Nothing good came from sitting in an attorney’s office with a spouse fighting a divorce. Hell if I was going there now. The media would be insane as soon as I stepped off the plane.

“Not gonna happen. Do you know what she’s looking for with this crap?”

“She says she wants her husband. I’m suspecting a settlement, even though she broke the prenup rules, would help.”

“Give it to her.” Money. I had millions. She could have it all even though she already had plenty of her own. I could make it back. “Don’t even care how much. Give it to her, make her sign the papers so I can be done with this crap.”

“You were married for five years, Cooper.” I was lucky enough to surround myself with a good team. I chose wisely, talked to actors who had bad experiences. So far, neither my agent or my lawyer had tried to screw me over. They always had my interests at heart.

Except for this time. “Yeah, and for five years, I was a blind idiot. I’m over it.”

Over her. Odd how weeks ago the thought of Camilla and my marriage sent me into a panic attack and I hadn’t had a single one since I’d been here. Even earlier today when I was talking about her, the pain that had pressed against my chest for so many months wasn’t there. It’d been replaced with anger she wouldn’t let this—or me—go.

“Just do it, Paul. Let me know what she wants. Cap it at five and give her the houses.” The beach house. The one thing I’d always said she’d never have. I wanted her gone more. Hell, she was probably pulling this crap just to get the beach house because she knew I loved it so much. Whatever. I’d buy a new one.

Done. I was done with all of it.

“That’s almost twenty million once you throw in the homes. I’m not sure that’s the best.”

“It is if she takes it and takes off.”

A weighted silence hit the phone and in front of me, Camilla was still fucking crying. I hurried around the couch, grabbed the remote and turned it off. I didn’t need to hear her beautiful voice telling me sweet lies ever again.

“Okay,” Paul finally said. “I’ll see what I can do and get back to you when I hear from her lawyer.”

“All of what I said, and she signs the papers immediately. Make sure she knows that.”

“Will do, cowboy.” I laughed. Damn Paul. Other than my parents, he and Max were the only two who knew where I was. “How’s it going there anyway?”

I had no damn idea anymore, not after last night and this morning with Rebecca. She hadn’t exactly seemed thrilled when I’d shown up tonight.

“Max was right, it’s helping.”

“Good. Good to hear it. When you coming back?”

My chest went tight. “August. Have that movie to start after Labor Day.”

“And where can I send the papers for your signature?”

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll figure it out and let you know. Might have to overnight them.”

“All right. I’ll deal with this, you deal with you and we’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“You got it. Thanks, Paul.”

“My job, Coop.”

Yeah, but he did it better than most.

“Right.” I pressed the End button on my phone and tossed it to the couch. Then I grabbed the clothes Rebecca had brought down for me.

Her dead husband’s clothes. I fisted them in my hand. I did not need to be wearing her husband’s pants, but a quick look showed my shorts were still soaked.

Crazy, crazy rain. Even now the thunder was still booming almost consistently. The perfect background to the storm inside of me.

I headed to the bathroom, ripped off my shirt and shorts, tugged on the new crap. The shirt was too tight, but it’d work.

I came out of the bathroom, moved past Rebecca in the kitchen where she was sitting at the small eat-in table and tossed my clothes in the dryer. Once I started it, I went back to the fridge, grabbed another beer and popped it open.

It was half gone by the time I pulled it away from my mouth and looked at Rebecca. She had an odd expression on her face, her fingers gently brushing up and down the stem of her wineglass, and a corner of her bottom lip in between her teeth.

“I take it that’s what you were talking about last night, and with Jordan this morning when he mentioned your wife?”

“Ex. Soon to be. But yeah. It wasn’t her first appearance.”

I took a chair across from her. She had plenty of space. She still pulled her wineglass toward her and straightened.

She pulled away from me.

“She said she loves you.”

I took another swallow of my beer to wash away the bile building in my throat. “She should have become an actress instead of a model. She’s damn good at it.”

“Cooper.” Her eyes lifted, sad, void brown pools peered at me. “She’s your wife and she wants to work on your marriage.”

To the outside world, that’s what they saw, because that’s how Camilla was framing it. Hell if I’d let Rebecca believe that beautifully painted mirage.

“She’s been cheating on me since before she had my ring on her finger, Rebecca.” At that confession, something no one but Max and Paul knew, Rebecca blinked. “Yeah. Didn’t know it. Swear, don’t know what was wrong with me. Maybe I was so damn in love with her I overlooked all the signs, but still, even thinking about it, she’s so damn good, there weren’t any. I can’t think of a time she hid her phone from me, hung up when I walked into the room, anytime she was dressed in anything other than what she should be wearing to wherever she was going. We traveled a lot, both of us. But we talked, every night. Texted during the day. There wasn’t a single damn clue, even now that I can see she didn’t love me as much as I loved her.”

I took a breath, expecting that burn and tightness in my chest, the noose around my throat to tighten but it didn’t come.

“Hired a private investigator before I came out here to find out everything he could. Twelve men. In a week, that’s the amount of men he found she’d been with, one of them being the talk show host she spoke to two nights ago. That’s what Jordan saw. That’s what has everyone in a tizzy.”

“I’m sorry.” She pressed her lips together like she wanted to say more but when I gave her time, she stayed silent.

“Me too. But like I said this morning, time and space, and the knowledge of what I now know has helped. Not saying it doesn’t sting, but that might be more pride in the first place. Or maybe I didn’t love her as much as I thought I did. Maybe I just wanted to.” I shrugged to take away the sting of that revelation. “I’ve had six months to think about her, our marriage, and weeks to deal with realizing exactly how unfaithful she was. The only thing I’m sorry about right now is that I didn’t pick up on it earlier and end it then.”

The only thing I’d said earlier that morning that was a lie was not wanting to push Rebecca to turn to me. I wanted it so bad I jacked off twice earlier to calm down. I was thirty-four years old, acting more like I was twenty with the way my dick sprung up, ready for action, at the mere thought of her.

The only thing keeping the guy down now was the reminder I was in Joseph’s clothes. A man she still desperately loved and hadn’t made an effort to put in her past, since she clearly still kept his clothes.

How did I find myself in these damn situations?

For not the first time, more like the tenth, I considered leaving. Going home. Getting shit taken care of with Camilla and put that in my rear view, put my head down, and get back to work.

The only thing keeping me here was the woman sitting across of me who didn’t want to be mine.

I rubbed my forehead and pushed off from the table draining the rest of my beer before I tossed it in the recycling bin next to the garbage.

“I should go. Get some sleep.”

“You can stay here.” I turned back to Rebecca as she continued. “It’s still raining, you don’t have electricity. Your clothes aren’t dry.”

“Rebecca—” I didn’t know what to say. The struggle to have me there was written all over her pale skin and trembling chin.

“I have several guest rooms. The couches. It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” She stood, drank the last of her wine and set it on the counter. “Come on, if you’re tired, I’ll show you upstairs.”

“Couch is fine.” No way in hell was I walking upstairs with her. She was being polite, but the mere thought of beds and her and I and…nope. I was good right where I was.

“You sure?”

I grinned as she repeated my earlier question. “Yeah, and thanks. I didn’t really want to head back outside.”

“It’ll be raining for hours yet. Fields will be a disaster tomorrow and with all the lightning, we’ll definitely need to spend some time checking all the cattle, especially the calves. Plus, there might be fences to fix, downed trees.”

As she rattled off a list I knew was more of her making a mental to-do, my grin widened.

She wanted me there but was uncomfortable with it. She wanted to kiss me, but was uncomfortable with that, too.

But, what I was getting from her? She wanted it. And fuck it. I did too. I moved toward her with purpose, not stopping until I was directly in front of her. My hand went to her cheek and she shut her mouth.

“We’ll figure it out in the morning. No sense in getting worked up tonight. Will the animals be safe?”

She was soft. So, so much softer than I’d imagined. Her eyes flickered and her dark, surprised eyes met mine.

She didn’t pull away though. Good sign.

“Cattle will protect themselves. All the others will be fine unless lightning strikes.”

“Okay. Tomorrow, we’ll take care of everything okay?”

“Okay, Cooper.”

“You’ve had a hard day. You going to be able to sleep tonight?”

Her lips twitched. “Probably as much as I normally do. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine. My mom always said that’s what women say when they’re anything but fine.”

A soft puff of air escaped her lips, hitting the edge of my palm. Hot. Sweet. Damn, she was cute. “I’m as good as I can be.”

I wanted to make her better.

And screw it. What was the worst that could happen? I move back to L.A. sooner than I wanted to?

Until then, I had nothing but time on my hands to get her to see things my way.

“Good.” My thumb brushed over her cheek.

Her lips parted and eyelids flickered again. A beautiful pink bloom rose on her cheeks and I dropped my hand, stepped away.

Small steps forward would hopefully prevent giant leaps backward.

“Have any blankets for me?”

It took her a minute to respond. “Yeah. I’ll get them.”

She left the room. I took the time to clean up the kitchen, not much besides one of my beer bottles, her wine, and wineglass. The entire house was spotless, cleaner than usual.

“I have blankets. And I found a new toothbrush for you.”

I hadn’t heard her return and she didn’t walk into the kitchen. She stayed in the doorway between the living room and kitchen, holding a pile of blankets so large I wouldn’t need them all even if it hit below zero. On top, a yellow toothbrush still in its packaging.

She made no move to set them down.

I went to her again. I’d do it over and over again.

“Thank you,” I whispered, and reached to take the pile from her arms.

They stayed where they were long after I’d taken the blankets from her before falling to her sides.

She stared up at me, brown eyes no longer void but filled with everything beautiful and hopeful. The pink on her cheeks had darkened.

Before she gathered her wits and got out of there, I bent down, letting my intention be known, and pressed my lips to her temple. “Thank you, Rebecca. Sleep well.”