CHAPTER
FIVE
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Harley told Charity. “This can only end in disaster.”
She put her cup of coffee down. She already had the jitters. She did not need to caffeinate.
Charity was spooning the innards out of her grapefruit, wearing black pants and a cute sweater, ready to head to her job as a handler at the racetrack. “I don’t know what you’re so worked up about. You need this job, and I’m sure the salary will be way higher than any other nanny gig in town. It’s Cooper Brickman. He makes bank.”
Yes, it was Cooper Brickman. That was the problem. It had been two months since the wedding reception. Two months since she had stupidly indulged in sex with him as her twin sister. Two months of repeated phone messages from Cooper to her, the real her, asking her to reconsider the job offer he’d made, as he’d been unable to get a nanny to stay for any length of time.
Which meant his sister was a nightmare.
It had been easy enough to call him back and leave polite messages in return declining the offer. Until her job had disappeared when her family had been transferred to Seattle. She could probably find another job fairly quickly, but it might takes weeks, involve multiple kids, and pay next to nothing.
“He offered me almost six figures.”
A piece of grapefruit fell out of Charity’s mouth. “Are you kidding me? Oh, my God. If you don’t take this job I will pretend I’m you and take it, and I don’t even like kids. That is crazy good money.”
It was. She’d been unable to resist it, frankly.
More to the point, she’d been unable to resist the idea of being around Cooper, even if it was just a little bit. Even though he would never know the truth.
But she was nervous, because she didn’t like to lie, and saying she was Charity had been a big one. Even her sister didn’t know the full scope of what had happened that night, and Harley had never kept something that huge from her twin. It was stressing her out totally.
“I feel like I’m going to puke.”
“Why are you so nervous? You’ve been a nanny for five years. This is only one kid and she’s half grown already. You’re overqualified.”
“You know I have a crush on Cooper. I can’t help it,” Harley said, her palms sweating at the memory of his tongue sliding over her body. “I’m going to embarrass myself by drooling.”
Her sister shrugged. “He is a smexy bastard, isn’t he? But also a total tool. Keep in mind he’s probably slept with hundreds of women. You don’t want to be a notch on his bedpost. Hell, that bedpost is probably whittled down to a stick at this point.”
Wonderful. “I thought you wanted me to hook up with him at the wedding. I did kiss him. As you, you know.” And then had done a whole lot more than kiss him, but she wasn’t prepared to admit that.
“So? He doesn’t know that so what difference does that make? As for me suggesting you sleep with him, that was then. This is now. You’re talking a serious humongous paycheck here. That is better than a couple of hours flat on your back for Cooper the Cunny King Brickman.”
Harley’s cheeks got hot. “The what?”
“That’s what they call him. Seems he has no issue going down on a woman.” Charity licked her spoon as a visual aid.
No. No, he didn’t. Harley suddenly felt like she had been scammed. That his moves had all been choreographed, designed to force a woman to let down her guard. Make her feel like his focus was totally on her, and her alone.
Only to hear that she was one of a cast of thousands. “Thanks for the pep talk, this has been very helpful.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck!” Charity called, voice sunny.
Luck? It wasn’t luck she needed. What she really needed was someone to slap some sense into her. Then she needed to stay the hell away from Cooper Brickman.
* * *
SHE didn’t.
Standing on the front step of Cooper’s mansion, ringing his doorbell, she debated whether it was too late to call him and cancel the interview. She was torn between desperately wanting to see him and not wanting to see him ever again. Swallowing hard, she glanced around the circular driveway, her little sedan looking a bit like a bumper car next to several enormous Ford-tough trucks and a glamorous fountain that sat quiet in the January cold. Shivering against the wind, she stuck her hands in her pockets and peered through the glass side panel next to the giant mahogany double doors.
Then was immediately sorry she did when she made eye contact with a woman. A tall, blond, beautiful woman. Harley jerked back, cheeks burning, as the door was flung open.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked, buttoning up a stylish trench coat, pulling leather gloves onto her hands.
Who the hell was this chick?
“I have an appointment for an interview with Mr. Brickman,” Harley said, her breath misting in front of her.
“Oh, are you the new maid?” The woman eyed her up and down. “Thank God, because that old heifer he has now is so annoying. She had the balls to tell me I should take my makeup off before bed because I ruined the pillowcase.” She stood back and gestured for Harley to come in. “Like seriously? Go screw yourself, old lady. What, like I’m going to let Cooper see me without makeup? Please.” She gave a laugh.
Oh, my God. This was a girlfriend. Cooper had a girlfriend. In the two months since they’d slept together he’d made no effort whatsoever to get in touch with her as Charity, and he had started dating a blonde who looked like a sexy Swedish lawyer who modeled on the weekends. She had not been expecting a girlfriend. Harley stepped in, not wearing makeup, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, feeling plain. Stunned.
Why, she wasn’t sure. What had she thought? That Cooper would be pining for her?
The woman swept her eyes over Harley then seemed to realize she wasn’t speaking to a fellow cosmetics lover.
“Anyway, Cooper is still in bed. I’ll text him and let him know you’re here. I have to run to an appointment with my personal trainer. Maybe I’ll see you around.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Holly.”
“Harley.” She shook her hand and gave a wan smile as Holly left, commanding her phone to “text Coop.” When the door closed, Harley shivered, silence settling over her in the giant foyer.
She was right on time for her eight a.m. appointment with Cooper. She rocked on her heels and wondered what she was supposed to do if he didn’t respond to Holly’s text and come downstairs. She wondered how much time Holly spent there, and if she could stand to be in the same house with her, knowing she was in Cooper’s bed. Where Harley wanted to be again.
Damn it. This was such a bad idea.
She had a lump in her throat the size of a grapefruit and was debating just fleeing and texting him an apology. Telling him she had another job or a fatal illness. Like idiot-itis.
“Harley?”
Too late. Shitballs. She swung her gaze up to the top of the marble staircase. Seriously, who had marble stairs? But that thought quickly vanished when she saw Cooper, jogging down them, jeans unbuttoned and sliding down his hips, his black briefs clearly visible. His shirt was in his hand, leaving his chest bare, washboard abs defined and obvious even from twenty feet away. His hair was a little longer than before, falling in his eyes, and as he came closer, she saw the five-o’clock shadow and a slumberous look in his eyes. He was gorgeous. Sexy. Sleepy.
Baby Jesus in the cradle, he looked even better than she remembered and she had a damn good memory. But seeing him there, bare chested, made her all too aware of how she had touched every inch of him. Had taken him inside her. Had orgasmed at the hands, or tongue, of the so-called Cunny King. Her whole body felt like she’d gotten a wicked sunburn. It itched and burned, and her skin felt too tight.
“Hi,” she said inanely, followed by a closed-lipped smile.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I think I must have hit the ‘go to hell’ button on my alarm when it went off this morning.” He grinned as he reached the bottom step and stopped to pull his shirt on over his head.
“No problem.” It made her feel better to have his chest covered, but she still felt ludicrous standing there in her coat. She wasn’t sure what to wear, so she had gone for a cute dress with a sweater and knee-length riding boots. Now she felt overlayered and overheated next to him, especially considering he seemed in no hurry to zip his pants.
“How have you been? It’s really good to see you.” He stood in front of her and smiled.
She’d been better. Though he sounded genuine. She wanted to believe him. But now she wasn’t sure what to believe. Her tongue seemed superglued to the roof of her mouth, but she forced herself to speak. “I’m fine. You?”
He shrugged. “I guess I can’t complain. At least the llama is gone now.”
“The llama?”
“Mary Jane ordered one online.”
“Oh. Wow.” Harley was suddenly afraid for what the nanny position entailed. She had no zookeeping skills.
He ran his fingers through his hair and yawned. “Come on into the kitchen. I need some coffee or I won’t be able to think.” He gestured for her to follow.
They went left and toward the back of the house, and the foyer suddenly opened into a massive two-story family room and gourmet kitchen. It was Italian influenced, with the marble floor continuing, and the kitchen featuring dark cabinets on bottom, white on top, with lots of wood-carved details and a massive mosaic in white, black, and pops of yellow behind the six-burner stove. It was a more formal environment than she would have expected and it was sparkly clean, most of the marble countertops free of appliances and décor.
The house and the man didn’t seem to go together.
Then again, she remembered him carefully folding her bra and panties on the nightstand. His explanation for the placement of the condoms. It made sense his home would be pristine.
“Have a seat,” Cooper said, as he went over to the coffeemaker and studied it for a second, like he wasn’t well versed in using it.
Harley perched at the kitchen island on one of eight stools. Yes, eight. This was a big-ass house. Her last employer had been a cardiologist, but that wealth couldn’t even touch the millions Cooper likely had. She thought about the salary he had offered her and wondered if it was just a little bit sketchy to be taking money from a man she had slept with.
“How the hell does this work?” Cooper asked, pushing buttons and lifting the lid. “This is new.”
For some reason the fact that he didn’t know how to use the coffeemaker made her feel better. Like they were on more equal footing.
The appliance was the same kind of single-serve model that she had, so she told him, “You put the cup in, then close the lid. When the light comes on you push the brew button.”
He kept trying to put the cup in wrong and Harley got back off the stool and went over and gestured. “No, the other way.” It was a mistake to get close to him. She could smell his scent, and it was familiar. The memory of him leaning over her, kissing her, assaulted her.
Cooper handed it to her. “Will you do it for me?” He gave her a charming smile. “Pretty please?”
He’d said something very similar the night she had slept with him. It made her both tense and aroused. Steeling herself against that grin, Harley took the cup and efficiently popped it in the machine and hit the brew button. A second later his mug was filling with coffee.
“Ah, thank you,” he said. “You’re an angel of mercy. Here, let me take your coat. Would you like some coffee, too? Of course, you’ll have to make it, but feel free. God, what a douchebag of a host I am.”
He moved behind her and slid her heavy coat down her shoulders before she could protest or do it herself. His body was too damn close for comfort. Harley shivered. The hell with all of this.
She wanted this over, and she sure wasn’t there for coffee and a casual chat. She was there for the job and the gratuitous ogling. “I’m fine, thanks. So what exactly are your needs with Mary Jane? Besides llama purchase prevention.”
“Right down to business, huh?” He hung her coat on the back of a stool and reached for his mug, now filled to the brim with coffee. He took a sip. “Ah. Nectar of the gods. Okay, so I don’t know what you remember of what we talked about at the wedding.”
Everything. She remembered everything. Every word. Every touch. “You told me you were worried about your sister.”
He nodded. “I am. She’s been allowed to run totally wild by our mother. She’s been living here with me for the past six months. She is homeschooling herself and spending huge amounts of time on the Internet running her own gossip and fashion blog and doing God only knows what else. Well, ordering llamas for one thing. Can you believe a llama costs a grand?”
Harley felt her eyebrows head north. She couldn’t help it. How did a twelve-year-old get a thousand dollars to spend on a farm animal? “What happened to the two previous nannies you hired?”
“They didn’t stay long. From what I understand, Mary Jane is not difficult exactly. She doesn’t argue. She just basically ignores them.” He made a face. “I’m not selling this job, am I?”
Not so much. “I can’t guarantee I can get any better results.”
“Maybe not. But you’re younger. Maybe she’ll see you more as a friend than as a cop.” Cooper leaned back on the countertop. “I tried to take her on the road with me when this season started up, but she got busted in a casino in Vegas. It wasn’t good. I think she’s bored. I’m okay with the whole blogging thing, but I want to make sure she’s actually getting an education, too.”
“What is her blog about?” That intrigued Harley, that a twelve-year-old had that kind of initiative. She had run her own blog for book lovers for a while and she knew it was time-consuming and complicated.
He shrugged. “My assistant said it’s a fashion and gossip blog.”
Caution flag on the track. “But you’ve never looked at it?”
“No.”
Harley pulled out her phone. “Do you know what it’s called?”
“No.” Now he looked a little sheepish. “My assistant does.”
She wasn’t trying to be judgmental; it just seemed like common sense that if he was concerned about how Mary Jane was spending her time, he should see what she was posting online. “If you are interested in hiring me, I think we need to explore her content.”
“Now I’m curious,” he said, pulling his own phone out of his pocket. He hit some buttons and put it to his ear. “Hey. Yeah, what is the link for MJ’s blog? I want to take a look at it.”
There was a pause then he said, “I know. I know. Got it. Two o’clock.” Another pause. “Can it wait until I’ve had more coffee? I’m interviewing for the nanny position. I know. God. Fine. Thank you.” He hung up and rolled his eyes. “Cami is a total nag but she keeps me from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
His phone dinged. “Here’s the link.” He pulled the blog up and started reading, pinching the screen to make it bigger. His eyes widened. “Holy crap.”
That didn’t sound good. “What? What’s on there?”
Cooper held the screen out for her to see. “My baby sister is like the TMZ of the racing world. Holy hell. How does she know any of this stuff?”
Harley read the top post out loud. It had a time stamp of 11:47 p.m. the night before. “Love at First Fetish Club? Sources suggest that Eve Monroe, the rookie truck series driver and former PR rep for the Monroe brothers, was at the local fetish club, The Wet Spot, last Saturday night, when she ran into her brother-in-law, Rhett Ford. In the company of her book club friends including Shawn Hamby, of Hamby Speedway and former teen racing star, Eve didn’t stay long, but it was long enough for Rhett and Shawn to apply for a marriage license four days later. What happens in the fetish club goes to the courthouse. YOLO, people. You only live once, so you might as well tie the knot. Or tie each other up.”
“She’s twelve?” Harley was horrified. She hadn’t even known what a fetish club was at twenty. At twelve, she’d still been playing with Barbies. Though on reflection, she seemed to remember she and Charity had their Barbies working as strippers from time to time. It had seemed glamorous and apropos given that Barbie’s feet were perennially in pole position. But a fetish club? No way.
“It doesn’t seem natural, does it? Did you know anything about Eve going to a fetish club? How do you think MJ would know about that?”
Well. The thing was. “Uh, I was there. It was a book club field trip. We were just curious, honestly.” Why did she feel like she needed to explain her actions? She was a grown woman.
Cooper looked aghast. “You were at a fetish club?”
Okay, so it was a stretch, but geez, did he have to sound so damn skeptical? She wasn’t a sexual amoeba, despite her inability to flirt. “It tied in to our book club selection. That’s not the point!”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” Though suddenly he was looking at her differently, like she might pull a crop out of her boot and whip him. Which reminded her of how she’d dragged him off into the bushes and demanded he make her come. And how he had. In mere minutes.
Which was totally irrelevant. “I have no idea how Mary Jane could know something like that. I guess I could see how she could find out about the marriage license if she checks public records frequently, though I can’t imagine why she would do that. But I really don’t see how she would know about the club.”
Cooper was scrolling down through the blog on his phone. “She has an unnatural preoccupation with track romances. My God. This is disturbing. And she knows I’ve been sleeping with Holly. That was last week’s entry.” He shuddered and tossed his phone on the kitchen counter like he couldn’t stomach the sight of it anymore. “She’s like the best of her father and the worst of her mother all in one.”
Harley decided then and there she was going to start following Mary Jane’s blog. Both to learn more about her and also to learn more about Cooper. Not that she needed or wanted a reminder that the man was sleeping with a gorgeous and confident woman.
“How so?”
“Her father was a charming and smart businessman, with a gift for words. Our mother is a gossip and a manipulator.” He drained his coffee mug and put his fist to his chest, like he had a sudden pain there.
“Listen to this—‘Cooper Brickman has a new FWB, Holly, who has a hobby of dating stock car drivers.’”
Cooper looked at Harley blankly. “What does that even mean, FWB?”
“Friends with benefits.” She cleared her throat. “Have you been hiding Holly from Mary Jane?”
“I thought I was. I don’t want her aware of every woman I date. It just seems like that’s not right, you know? But it seems you can’t hide anything from MJ.”
There was one thing that was likely a secret from Mary Jane. Not even the tween gossip could know that Harley was the one who had slept with Cooper at the McCordle wedding. Or that she was also the woman who was currently jealous. He hadn’t come right out and said that Holly was his girlfriend, but no matter who she was, she was getting Cooper’s attention and for that reason, Harley hated her on principle.
“So I take it your mom is still out of town?”
“Yep. Now she and what’s-his-nut are in Italy. Must be nice.”
Harley winced, feeling sorry for his sister. “Where’s her father? Out of the picture completely?”
“He passed away five years ago. My mother married Bud Rawlings, of Rawlings Racing, when he was seventy and she was forty, when she turned up pregnant with MJ. He loved his daughter and I think MJ still misses him a lot. I try, honestly I do, but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But lucky her, I’m all she’s really got.”
It was better than nothing, and yet again, she was impressed with him. He might have no clue how to handle his sister, but the worry over her showed Harley he was a decent guy who just wanted to do right by Mary Jane. “It’s obvious you care about her. That means a lot to a child.”
“What’s also obvious is that I am not qualified to do this. She’s posting about fetish clubs. Oh, my God. What am I supposed to do?”
Harley had no idea. She was used to watching toddlers and preschoolers. “I think there needs to be some fact gathering first. Make sure you truly know everything that she is doing. Then you can formulate a conclusion and/or a plan.”
He put the mug down. “You’re right. It’s just that I want her to be happy and productive, but most of all I want her safe, you know? I feel like she could be doing God only knows what and talking to God only knows who. It’s scary out there online and she’s just a kid, despite what she’ll tell you.”
Harley felt her heart soften. She wanted to soothe his anxiety with a soft kiss. She wondered how he would react to that. “You’re right to be concerned, and ten years from now she’ll be glad you were looking out for her.” She leaned against the island and studied him. “So I’m assuming the job description includes giving you full disclosure on her activities? Or at least the pertinent highlights?”
Damn it. She was going to accept this position. How could she not? Even though she looked at Cooper and wanted nothing more than a hotel suite sex repeat. Even though he had no idea the nanny he wanted to hire had begged him to make her come. Even though the thought of him cuddling with Holly Hobbie made her want to hurl.
All of that was irrelevant as she listened to him speak about his sister. This little girl, who wasn’t such a little girl, needed her. Harley wasn’t sure she was any more qualified than Cooper was to handle Mary Jane, but she needed to try.
Besides, she was clearly just a masochist.
He nodded. “You know what life is like for a professional driver. It’s a time-consuming job, and this is, of course, a live-in position.”
Oh, sweet Jesus. She’d known that in theory, but hearing him say it out loud made her girl parts flutter like a hummingbird.
“You will have your own suite and you can use the kitchen whenever you want. No one is really ever in here except Rosa, my housekeeper, anyway. I’m only here two days a week, so you should feel free to make yourself totally at home. You can have friends over in the evenings, but I have to ask that you don’t have any overnight guests, if you know what I mean. You can have Mondays and Tuesdays off when I’m home.”
It sounded horrible. Like nothing any sane person would ever agree to, frankly. Living in her one-night stand’s house as virtual strangers? Fully responsible for a preteen? Never have a date or sex on anything other than a Monday or Tuesday? Not that the men were beating down Harley’s door for dates, but the possibility was there. Could be there.
“Basically, MJ needs a tutor, a driver, someone to guide her morally, give her affection, and help mold her into a proper Southern girl.”
“So you want me to be her mother?” Harley asked, wanting to truly understand what was expected of her. It was what she’d taken away from their conversation the night of the wedding, and this interview confirmed that.
Cooper looked startled. “Well, shit, I never thought about it that way. I guess you’re right. Damn, that’s a lot to ask of you.” He sighed. “Maybe we can just start with Internet cop? I don’t want my baby sister looking at porn or talking to men old enough to be her father.”
He rubbed his temples and turned back to the coffeemaker. “Why does this damn thing only give me one cup of coffee at a time? Jesus. Who only drinks one cup?” He jammed his mug back under the machine and frowned at it.
Harley nudged around him and took out the used cup of grounds and replaced it with a fresh one from the tower of flavors sitting next to the coffeemaker. She added more water and hit brew. “I’ll take the job if you’re officially offering.”
“Really?” He sounded almost as surprised as she felt. “That’s fantastic.”
Harley nodded.
“Is the salary I mentioned acceptable?” he asked. “I could probably go a little higher, but I need to discuss it with my financial advisor.”
It was more money than she’d made in the last three years combined with her previous family, and they’d had two kids under the age of five. “I think that is more than generous.” She swallowed, wishing she had made herself a cup of coffee. Her mouth was dry. “I’m sure we’ll need to discuss Mary Jane’s personal expenses and what her allowance is.”
“If you can keep it under fifty grand a year, I’m happy. Let’s not get ridiculous.”
Harley blinked. Oh, he was already ridiculous. That was a lot of cheddar.
But Cooper Brickman was thirty-five years old and had been driving professionally since age seventeen. After an eighteen-year career he probably had more money than he knew what to do with.
Every middle-class bone in her body balked, and she decided she was going to teach Mary Jane a thing or two about budgets. The girl never needed to know how much she was allowed to spend. And someone was about to have her llama-buying button taken away from her.
“I don’t think we’ll need that much,” she said. “I was thinking more in terms of enrichment activities like museums and foreign films.”
Cooper made a face. “I’m going to have to take away her credit cards, aren’t I?”
Harley nodded. “That’s a great place to start. I think all purchases should have to be made out of her allowance, which we can decide on together after I do some number crunching.”
“She’s going to be pissed at me.” He looked very uncomfortable with that idea.
“Probably. But you know it’s the right thing to do. She needs attention, structure. Not designer clothes and farm animals.” No one needed farm animals, in Harley’s opinion, unless you were a goddamn farmer. It was craziness.
“I want to be her buddy. I don’t want her to hate me.” He looked miserable at the thought.
“No one wants to be hated,” she told him, feeling sympathy for him. That was why she was such a people pleaser. Or doormat, according to Charity. She liked to be liked. She wasn’t a parent, but even as a nanny she’d learned there were days she was going to be less popular than others because she had to be the boss. “But Cooper, I can’t be Mary Jane’s mother. I can only be a mentor, a friend. I’ll keep her safe and provide structure and compassion. But you have to be her mother, father, brother, all in one. And that means some days she’s going to hate you.”
He sighed. “God help us all. I’m going to fuck this up.”
It killed her to see him so worried. Harley touched his arm. “Hey. You’ll do fine. You’re a good man.”
He gave her a small smile. “How do you know? Maybe I’m awful.”
She knew that he was an unselfish lover. And that he clearly loved his sister. “Just the fact that you worry about Mary Jane tells me what I need to know.”
Cooper was looking at her with an odd look on his face.
Harley wrinkled her nose, wondering if she had something hanging out of it. She couldn’t have anything in her teeth. She hadn’t eaten breakfast. Her nipples couldn’t be showing because she was wearing a cable-knit sweater. Did he know something? Could he tell she had lied to him? Immediately, all the ground she had gained feeling comfortable around him disappeared. She put her arms across her chest and crossed her ankles. “When would you like me to start?”
“Huh? Oh.” His face cleared and he said, “If you can start tomorrow, that would be fantastic. And how about I have Cami arrange a mover for you? They can do all your packing and get everything over here into your room in a matter of a few hours.”
Just like that. He could make one phone call and magically she would be living with him. As his nanny. Probably about eight hundred miles away from his bedroom, which was a good thing. She did not want to hear the sounds of passion between him and his friend with benefits.
“That should be fine.” He was paying her such a generous salary she could pay her portion of the rent until Charity found a new roommate. “I don’t have a lot of stuff.”
“Perfect. I’ll give your number to Cami and she can work with you on it, and all the paperwork for tax purposes.” Cooper reached for his second cup of coffee. His voice shifted, became curious. “So, uh, what was at that fetish club?”
Oh, no he didn’t. “What do you mean?” she hedged.
“Did you . . . participate?”
Say what? Harley felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Why was he asking her that? And why did he look so intrigued? From her personal experience with him he had liked the idea of her being bossy, but in the end he had taken over control. So it wasn’t like he had a dominatrix fantasy. Besides, she was Harley, and he didn’t see her that way.
“I have no idea what you mean,” she said. Because what else was she supposed to say? But her face gave her away. Her cheeks flushed with heat.
Cooper laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He winked.
“What? No. No. No. I did not participate. It wasn’t really that big of a deal. It was just some people doing . . . things. But everyone still had clothes on and I just stood at the bar and watched.” That didn’t sound right either. She didn’t make a habit of being a voyeur.
But he just chucked her under the chin.
Like she was five.
“Relax, I was just teasing you. I can’t imagine you going hard-core.”
Of course he couldn’t. He saw her as maternal and stable, after all.
He was convinced she was thinking about kittens and unicorns and sunshine.
“Was your sister there?” he asked, as an afterthought.
Damn it. “Yes.”
He smiled, and it was a naughty smile. The smile of a man who knows something. He was thinking about sex with her, remembering it. She could tell.
It was flattering to see his positive reaction to the memory, knowing he wouldn’t allow his expression to be so honest if he thought he was looking at his hookup.
But while it got her more than a little hot under the collar and made her want to prove to him that she wasn’t always the sensible twin, she knew that she already had. He just didn’t know it.
That was called a cruel irony.
“Tell her I said hi.”
As if. Harley just nodded. “Sure.”
Crossing her arms, she promised herself she would suppress the urge to show Cooper a thing or two about hard-core.