After a few breathless seconds, Phoenix’s gaze flickered away. Ignoring his request—hell, pretending he hadn’t even said it—she explained, “The mower won’t start. I tried to find Daron, but apparently he’s off today.”
Coop stifled a growl of frustration. She needed time, not pressure, so he concentrated on the reason she’d come to see him. If he couldn’t get her to relax, he could at least be helpful.
Daron Hardy was the twenty-five-year-old handyman extraordinaire who worked for the park. He could fix anything, which made him valuable, but he was also a huge player. Coop had no doubt that Phoenix had already caught Daron’s eye.
The good thing about Daron, though, besides his skill at repairs, was that he could be trusted, and he was a gentleman at heart. Daron would never deliberately make a woman uncomfortable. He didn’t hear it very often, but he understood the word no.
Coop stepped into his kitchen, saying, “Come on in.”
“I...” She hesitated at the door, then looked behind herself as if checking for avenues of escape.
Pretending he didn’t see her uneasiness, Coop said, “I’ll have to give him a call. He stayed out last night but said he’d be back sometime this morning. Coffee?”
She glanced at the pot with the same intensity she’d given his chest. Coop wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.
Assuming he’d convince her, he got down another mug, filled it, set it on the table and pulled out a chair—all without looking directly at Phoenix again. He reached for the phone near his laptop and dialed up Daron, then leaned back on the counter.
Cautiously, leaving the door open behind her, Phoenix entered the kitchen and eased into the chair. She wrapped both hands around the mug as if chilled, which was impossible given the warm morning. While Coop waited for Daron to answer, she sipped the hot coffee.
The phone stopped ringing.
“Shh, hang on,” Coop heard in a whisper, and then, in a normal tone, “Hello?”
It didn’t surprise Coop to hear a woman giggling in the background. Daron was an active, healthy young man. Working at the park shouldn’t hinder a social life. Daron seemed to have found the right balance.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Coop said.
“No problem, boss. ’Sup?”
Watching Phoenix, seeing how she avoided looking at him, Coop briefly explained the issue.
“Damn,” Daron said. “That thing’s been on life support for a while, but it was purring just fine after the last time I tweaked it.”
“It’s probably past time for me to—” Coop heard the woman say something else.
Daron started to shush her, ended up laughing, and said quickly into the phone, “Give me twenty minutes or so and I’ll head back.”
“You don’t have to rush.”
“See ya soon, Coop.” The call disconnected.
Easily imagining why Daron had left so quickly, Coop looked at the phone, shook his head in amusement and then put it back on the desk.
Not bothering to hide his amusement, he sat opposite Phoenix. “He should be back in another hour...or two.”
“He didn’t say for sure?”
“He’s a little preoccupied with a date.”
“Oh.” Smiling, she looked up—then at his shoulders and chest—and quickly tucked back a tendril of hair. “I forgot about his date.”
“He told you about it?”
“Daron mentions all his dates.” She sent him a crooked grin. “He’s hilarious sometimes.”
As long as she was laughing at Daron, Coop figured he had nothing to worry about. “That’s probably not how most women describe him.”
“True.” She chuckled. “He doesn’t lack female attention, that’s for sure.”
“But you see him differently?”
She sipped her coffee. “He’s young.”
Coop lifted his brows. “He’s twenty-five, the same age as you.”
“Ah, but my sister says I’m an old soul.” She wrinkled her nose. “And that’s nicer than when she calls me a stick in the mud.”
Cooper grinned. “We can’t all be the life of the party.”
“Right? That’s what I tell her.” She traced a finger around the top rim of the mug. “I hate that I’m interrupting Daron’s plans.”
“He was due back soon anyway.” Coop studied her. Those small smiles of hers packed a hell of a wallop. “I assume it’s that ancient rider that won’t start?” They had two push mowers, too, but they weren’t for the big areas.
“Yes.”
To keep her around a little longer, he asked, “Was it acting up yesterday?”
“Pretty much always. I don’t have Daron’s talent, but I can usually get it to start with a little tinkering. This time—nothing.”
“Dead battery, maybe?”
She shook her head. “I checked that.” With a lot of concentration, she looked at him again, her gaze fixed only on his face. “Mr. Cochran—”
“Coop.”
She paused, then dutifully said, “Coop, have you considered replacing it?”
Finally hearing her say his name gave him a deep sense of satisfaction. At thirty-four, smiles, glasses and first names shouldn’t have affected him at all, but then, something about Phoenix had struck a nerve from the moment he’d seen the first article on her assault. “Every time it quits on me.”
Damn, he wanted to kiss her.
And she couldn’t even look at him.
It was an odd sensation not to recognize himself and his reactions. After a year of his life lost to a mournful rage, it had taken him a long time to regain his control, to tamp down those useless emotions. In the four years since then he’d stayed busy to keep himself in check.
Now, those volatile feelings seemed misdirected, still there, simmering deep inside, but with an entirely different motivation.
“You have?” Phoenix sat forward, an elbow on the table, enthusiasm in her eyes. “I know it’s a big expense, but a zero-turn mower would be ideal.”
Inspiration struck, and he said, “At the end of the month, we could check them out together if you want.” Before she could deny him, he added, “I’d need you to help me choose the best one for the park.”
She retreated back in her seat. “I’m sure any would do.”
True. Plus, he wasn’t so inept that he couldn’t choose a damned mower. That wasn’t the point, though. “Why have a landscaping expert around if not to get an expert opinion? We wouldn’t have to go far. There’s a dealer in Woodbine with everything from massive farm equipment to small push mowers for tiny yards.” He saw the indecision in her pale blue eyes, made larger by the lenses of her glasses. “You’re the one who will be responsible for it, so it makes sense for you to help choose it.”
“But—”
“You’d be on the clock, of course.”
Fascinated by the visible process, he watched as she debated with herself, stiffened her spine, nudged her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose and nodded.
Amused by her, and impressed with her fortitude, he asked, “Yes?”
“Okay, yes.” Her attention dipped to his body, then shot back to his face. Her eyes narrowed in concentration. “We can do that.”
Her agreement released the tension in his muscles, when he didn’t even want to admit to being tense.
He definitely shouldn’t have been tense.
“Great.” Did that mean she trusted him, at least a little? He knew he was losing his grip on his carefully tempered emotions; he’d deliberately kept himself from feeling too much, because feeling hurt had turned him into a person he didn’t recognize.
For the first time in years, it didn’t alarm him. These feelings weren’t chaotic and hard-edged. If anything, they were...soft. And enjoyable.
A twinge of disquiet went through him, but he ignored it. “I’ll go over the calendar, talk to the dealer and let you know well in advance what day we’ll go.”
“Sounds good.” She finished off her coffee and stood.
Coop stood, too—and this time her attention went all over him, even the fly of his jeans. He fought back all natural inclinations in an effort to keep the moment casual. Phoenix wasn’t a woman to rush, and he doubted the look had been an invitation. Probably more like curiosity, and he’d take what he could get. “Let me know if Daron can’t get the old mower going, okay?”
“We could get by with the push mowers for a few weeks.”
He didn’t want her to have to get by. “Let me know, Phoenix.”
As if the use of her name no longer fazed her, she nodded. “Will do.” She surprised him by carrying her cup to the sink. Once there, she noticed the photo near his closed laptop. For a long moment, she stared at it, her head slightly tilted.
He didn’t explain. He couldn’t explain.
Something softened in her expression. Without a word, she turned to go.
Relieved, Coop moved toward the door with her. Talking about his wife was always difficult and now, with those strange emotions gripping him, he didn’t dare go down that road.
“Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll check in with you later to make sure Daron has things going. If you need anything else, let me know.”
When she stepped outside, the bright sunshine put blue highlights into her smooth ebony hair. With her eyes squinted against the glare, she stared toward the lake. “That’s your private dock?”
“Yes. The buoys mark the no-swim area for guests, making it safer for me to take my boat out to the main body of water, and for me to swim away from the resort guests.”
“I’ve seen other boats way out there.”
“People ski or go tubing. But you haven’t even swum yet, have you? You know the water’s warmed up a lot. You should take a dip.” He wouldn’t mind seeing her skinned down to a bikini.
She gave him a look bordering on horror. “Not me.”
Propping a shoulder against the door frame, he asked, “Why not you?” Was she worried that a bikini might invite male attention? He sorted through the idea, and realized that, after the assault, she wasn’t only uncomfortable around men, she actually feared a man’s attention.
A man’s touch.
The thought brought a frown. A woman like Phoenix Rose should be enjoying every aspect of life, not shying away from the physical—
“I can’t swim.” She scowled with the admission.
Not buying that for a second, he asked, “So you never swam in your grandparents’ pond?”
“The fish were bigger than me. I mean, when I was a kid.” She held her hands apart about two feet. “The carp and catfish were huge.”
He liked the image of her as a little girl awed by the size of a fish. “You know they’re more afraid of you than you are of them.”
“I know that now.” She took a few steps away and hesitated. With exasperation, she admitted, “I can swim.”
“Yeah?” Damn, she was cute—and obviously honest. An irresistible combo. “So why the fib?”
Would she be honest with him now? Was she afraid of intimacy?
She rolled one shoulder, then swatted the air. “Because admitting that I’m not comfortable in a crowd is lame. But then I realized that saying I couldn’t swim sounded just as lame, so...”
The admission twisted his heart, and turned his tone gruff. “I’m glad you can swim, and I understand about crowds.” Was it only crowds? He wished he had the words for more specific questions.
She actually laughed. Just for a second, then she quickly cut it off.
Coop studied her face, the way she flattened her lips to fight the grin. Really nice lips. “What’s funny?”
“If you don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”
Teasing—that had to be a good sign. If she feared him, would she do that? He didn’t think so.
He pushed away from the door. “Come on, now. Don’t leave me guessing.”
She grinned. “Well...you realize that you hired me to work around crowds, right?”
“True.” As if lit from the inside, her eyes were beautifully bright when she laughed. “But working around them is not the same as mingling.”
“No, it’s not.” She scrunched her nose and again looked at the lake. “I could maybe swim without mingling.”
He could tell she wanted to. “It wouldn’t be easy. Between the scuba divers, the paddle boaters, the flirting adults and the splashing kids, you’d pretty much be in the thick of it.”
“Yeah, probably.” She gave a wistful sigh. “It’s not crowded early on the weekdays.”
A slow burn started through his blood, and to his surprise, he easily accepted that it was both physical...and emotional. “Would you like to swim early one morning?”
“Maybe.” As if she only just then realized the direction of the conversation, she said, “Oh, I don’t mean with you.”
Cocking a brow, he asked in mock affront, “Why not with me?”
Her dark lashes fluttered in nervousness. “You’re part of the crowds.”
Damn, he did not want to be lumped in with the masses. He wanted to be different. He wanted to be more.
Softly, he said, “Not if it’s just me.”
“But I...” Her words trailed off.
“You what?” he prompted.
Defiant, she whispered, “I don’t look that great in a bathing suit.”
His imagination went into hyperdrive. “I find that very hard to believe.”
At his inadvertent husky tone, pleasure colored her cheeks. “I’m...” She gestured. “You know. Maybe a little thick?”
Coop nearly choked on a laugh, but he knew she wouldn’t understand so he turned it into a cough. Here he was, getting semihard thinking of her stripped down a little, and she thought he might be disappointed.
His gaze went unerringly to her breasts. “That’s not how I’d describe you.”
A little breathless, she said, “No?”
He looked at her closely, watchful for fear or anxiety. Instead, he saw interest in her eyes.
“Can I be frank?” On the heels of that, he explained, “I don’t want to overstep or...make you nervous.”
Pride lifted her chin. “I’m not nervous.”
Though she didn’t say it, he heard the unspoken qualifier: Not with you.
Pleased that some of the barriers were crumbling, he smiled. “All right then. I’d say soft, curvy.” His gaze moved over her body. “Sexy.” As he looked at her, her breathing hitched and her color intensified.
She blinked, nodded and let out a breath. “Thank you.”
He was probably pushing too fast, way too fast, but he heard himself say low, “You don’t ever have to be afraid of me, Phoenix. I swear, there’s no reason.”
Her eyes flared, then narrowed in defensive annoyance. “I’m not.”
Hoping that wasn’t a lie, he said, “Good. Then we can swim sometime?”
She shook her head. “I’m not afraid, it’s just—” With an agitated huff, she reached back to flip up her ponytail, letting the humid summer air kiss her nape. After a quick peek up at the sun, she put clip-on sunglasses over her lenses. “I’m sometimes uneasy. That’s all.”
“With me?”
Immediately, she shook her head. “No.” Her frown deepened, this time, he suspected, with confusion. “No, not with you.” As if realizing what she’d said, she rushed into new conversation. “It’s going to be crazy hot today. I better get to work before the sun starts roasting everything in sight.” She turned away, taking two fast steps.
“Phoenix.”
She stopped, waited and finally glanced back.
With the sunglasses in place, he couldn’t tell if she looked at his face or his naked upper body. Either was okay with him. “You’re doing a great job.”
“Thanks.” A small smile came and went. “For the compliments and the nice visit.”
“Anytime.” Coop watched her leave with a long, purposeful stride. He thought of everything she’d gone through.
The bruises had healed, but some of the wounds remained.
Still, they’d gotten to a first-name basis. She’d smiled. She’d chatted.
She’d more or less admitted that she felt differently with him.
He’d call that progress.
* * *
I saw his wife.
Phoenix sent the text to Ridley, then waited for a reply.
Her phone rang instead. She was alone in the maintenance building, so she answered. “Hey, Ridley.”
“What wife? When did he get a wife? All this time I thought we were discussing a single guy!”
“He is single, but he’s widowed.” She thought of the image on his desk area and grew wistful. “She was beautiful.”
“I didn’t know,” Ridley said. “How long ago did she die?”
“Maris told me about her. You know, the woman—”
“Who runs the camp store, yup. I have all the characters clear in my head.”
Phoenix laughed. “They’re not characters.”
“Well, I’ve never met them because someone won’t invite me to visit, so for me, they’re not yet three-dimensional, regardless of your great descriptions.”
Ridley had been using that sarcastic tone since Phoenix was four years old. It stopped working on her when she’d turned twelve or so, but Ridley, three years older, had never given it up.
Now, it merely seemed a part of her sister’s personality of snark tempered with love.
Giving a credible snort, Phoenix said, “It’s beautiful here, and loads of fun, but you know it’s not your style.”
“My style is ever evolving,” she said in lofty tones. “So when did he lose his wife?”
“Maris said it was six years ago, before he bought the park.”
“Do you know how she died?”
Phoenix tucked the phone against her shoulder so she could continue prepping for work. “No. Maris isn’t really the gossipy type.”
“And neither are you, so I suppose you didn’t ask?”
“Of course not. It makes me feel so bad for him, though. He’s a great guy. Can you imagine going through something like that?” As soon as she said it, Phoenix cringed. “I mean—”
“No worries, sis.” Ridley adopted her best I don’t give a shit tone. “My situation was entirely different and I know it. I may have lost a man, but he’s still living.”
True, but Ridley’s ex had been so cruel in how he’d left her and the reasons he’d given...
“Stop it,” Ridley commanded. “I’m loaded, thanks to that dick, so I get to live the life I love. That is, the life I love minus seeing my sister who won’t let me visit.”
Phoenix rolled her eyes. “I’ll visit you on my next day off.”
“Now where’s the fun in that? I want to ogle the man candy.”
Phoenix choked. She definitely didn’t want Ridley doing that. “Daron is too young for you. Heck, he’s too young for me and he’s my age!”
“I wasn’t talking about our studly repairman, fun as that sounds. It’s the head honcho I want to see. The way you’ve described him... Rowrrrr.”
Phoenix felt her face go hot. In a low whisper, she said, “I haven’t!”
“Oh, it comes through, sis. Pure lust.”
“It’s not!”
“You’re screeching. That’s a telltale sign of lust, you know.”
Phoenix exhaled a deep breath and said more calmly, “I’m not lusting.”
“I hope you’re fibbing, because I was totally jazzed over the possibility.”
“Ridley,” she warned. Was she lusting? Maybe a little bit. And that was a huge deal. For a while there, she’d only been able to see men as threats first, and once that faded, with indifference.
There were so many other priorities that required her focus...
“Men and sex and all the good stuff in between are things you should be enjoying,” Ridley said. “I know you think you can’t right now, but I promise, it’s just like riding a bike. Once you’ve learned it, you never forget. It all comes back in an instant.”
Phoenix burst out laughing.
“Let me guess,” Ridley said, her voice deadpan. “You’re imagining pedals and those narrow seats?”
Sputtering with her hilarity, Phoenix added, “And ten-speeds!”
Ridley laughed too, then snuck in, “So you do like him, huh?”
Sudden caution washed away her humor. Ridley was like a bloodhound on the scent. “Who, Daron? Yes, he’s nice and he’s good at what he does.”
“I’m not dumb and you’re not dumb, so give over already.”
She sighed. “Yes, I like Cooper, but like is not lust, Ridley. And I don’t know when...or rather if, I’ll ever again be comfortable with that.”
“You will be.” Ridley said it with conviction. “I think you’re almost there already, and I have that resort owner to thank for it.”
“Rather than debate it,” she said, “I have to get to work.”
“Okay, sorry for calling. I just needed to hear your voice.”
Phoenix softened. What would she have done without her sister? Ridley was more than a sibling, more than a best friend.
Sometimes, Ridley was everything.
Smiling, Phoenix said softly, “It was nice to hear yours, too.”
“Smooches.”
“Smooches back atcha.” As Phoenix slipped the phone into her back pocket, she heard a sound and whirled.
Daron stood at the entrance to the maintenance building, his not-quite-six-foot frame lounged against the opening. He wore a ball cap backward over his shaggy brown hair, loose board shorts, an unbuttoned shirt and a playfully leering smile. “Did I just hear you making kissing sounds with a guy?”
Relieved to see a familiar face rather than the boogeymen who haunted her dreams, Phoenix grinned. Daron she could handle. He was never serious, didn’t push, and she had no real problems being around him. “Actually, that was my sister.”
“Yeah?” His brows climbed. “Younger or older?”
“Older by three years.”
Suggestively, he asked, “Does she look like you?”
“Chubby? No. She has some red in her hair, but we have the same eyes.”
Daron pushed away from the wall. “Just so you know, you’re chubby in all the right places.”
She looked down at her chest, laughed and said, “Well, yes, Ridley and I have that in common.” It was so odd that she could joke with Daron in a way she couldn’t with Cooper. How she felt about Cooper made all the difference, but it still surprised her that she could be so easy with Daron.
“If she ever visits, I want to meet her.”
“Trust me, Ridley would insist on it.” She gestured at the riding mower. “I think it died, but if you can revive it for a few more weeks, that’d be great.”
“Why just a few weeks?”
“Because after that, Cooper says he’ll look into a zero-turn.”
“Whoa.” Daron rocked back on his heels. “How’d you talk him into that?”
“I just mentioned it.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve mentioned it to him a hundred times but he always just tells me to resuscitate the poor old thing.” He lifted the hood on the mower and began tinkering. “Because it came with the park when he bought it, Coop considers it nostalgic.”
Thinking of the photo of Cooper’s wife, Phoenix asked, “Were you here already when Cooper bought it?”
“Nah. I was working part-time in town at the grocery while going to school for an associate degree in business. Coop was in buying groceries when this older lady’s car died on her. I went out to the lot to get it going. I guess a few customers told Coop that I had a knack because after watching me work, he offered me a job—and I agreed. Best decision I ever made.”
Probably one of Cooper’s better decisions too, Phoenix thought. She knew Daron was invaluable to the running of the place. “Has it changed much since he took over here?”
“Are you kidding? It’s all different.” He rolled one shoulder. “Better.”
“New employees?”
“For the most part.” He grunted as he twisted something. “Most had already moved on or retired.”
Fascinating. She watched Daron’s arms flex, then something gave way. Frowning, he switched positions.
“I guess he changed the name after buying the resort?” That was the one thing that surprised her. Cooper didn’t seem the type to flaunt ownership, or to draw attention to himself.
Daron grinned. “I did that. The big sign up front used to say Cherry’s Charm.”
“The previous owner was named Cherry?”
Shrugging, he said, “That, or the name came from all the weeping cherry trees.” He adjusted a few more things inside the hood of the mower. “The sign was all but falling off the pole, so Coop told me to take it down. Talk about nostalgia—it was a vintage sign, shaped like an old camper, you know? I couldn’t see pitching something like that, so I removed the rust, repaired the lights, repainted it with Coop’s name and hung it properly.”
What a wonderful thing for him to do. “And the name stuck.”
“Much to Coop’s annoyance.” He raised his head from the engine to flash her a sheepish grin. “He eventually forgave me.”
Phoenix tried to resist, but curiosity got the better of her. “He’d already lost his wife when you met him?”
Daron paused, his expression troubled. “Yeah, that’s why he came here.” He glanced up again. “I think it was like a fresh start or something. A way to move forward instead of just...suffering.”
Her heart squeezed painfully at the idea of him hurting. She thought of the sign and whispered, “Cooper’s Charm. A good place to get away.”
“I guess Coop thought so, since he bought the park and he’s been here ever since.” Stepping back, he said, “Give her a go.”
Trying to reclaim her light mood from moments ago, Phoenix sat on the riding mower seat and, after inserting the key, she pressed the clutch, checked that the mower was in Neutral and turned the key. It fired right up.
“There you go,” Daron said with a bow as he closed the hood. “My work here is done.”
“Actually,” she said over the engine, “there’s some issue in the laundry.”
“Always is.” With a jaunty walk, he saluted her on his way out.
Phoenix sat there a moment, then she withdrew her phone and opened the ongoing text conversation with her sister. She typed in, Cooper’s Charm is a good place to get away.
Ridley replied with a smiley face.
They both knew that no matter where she lived, if she truly wanted the past behind her, she had to fully face the future.
* * *
A week later, Phoenix darted through a drizzling rain and into the camp store. It was still early, but she saw lights on and figured she’d join Maris in a cup of coffee. The two of them got along well and Maris was friendly without being intrusive.
Unfortunately, as she rushed in, her wet sneakers met the tile floor and came out from under her. She flailed in the air.
A strong pair of hands caught her under her arms. “Easy.” Those same hard hands got her upright and then lingered as she turned to see who owned that deep voice.
The shock of his touch hit her first, followed swiftly by a stab of...well, not exactly fear, but definitely uncertainty.
She was reflecting on the progress she’d made, pleased that she could think calmly enough to know she was in a room with friends, when she looked up—into vivid green eyes framed by sun-bleached blond hair, all wrapped up in muscled perfection.
Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.
Beside her, she heard a chuckle and turned her head to see another—more familiar—vision, this one with darker hair in a perpetually tousled state, rich brown eyes and a huge smile.
“Daron.” She straightened and stepped away from the man holding her. “I... Sorry, the floor is slippery.”
“Especially in the rain,” the man agreed.
“Don’t worry about it, Phoenix,” Daron teased. “All the women ogle Baxter. He’s used to it.”
Baxter said, “Shut up, Daron,” without any evident animus. “It was mutual ogling.”
Oh, no, no, no. Accepting his assistance without fear was one thing. Anything else was out of the question.
Daron whistled. “And the day just got more interesting.”
This time Phoenix glared at him. He pretended to lock his lips. Right. Like she’d believe that.
Daron might be a fun-loving, harmless guy, but he was rarely quiet.
Baxter, she knew, was the scuba instructor. She’d visually admired him from a distance several times—after all, she might be damaged but she was still a woman. She’d already known that Baxter was lean, strong and undeniably gorgeous. However, that hadn’t prepared her for seeing him up close. The man was put together very finely.
Rather than continue looking the fool, she pushed aside the nervousness and, putting on her most polite and purely social expression, she held out a hand. “I’m Phoenix Rose. We haven’t had a chance to meet.”
“Phoenix. Interesting name.” Thankfully, at least from her perspective, he picked up on her lack of personal attraction. “Baxter McNab. I’m the scuba instructor and director.”
“I’ve seen you with groups at the lake.” She looked down at the wet floor. “Thanks for the good catch.”
His gaze slanted to Daron. “Dumb-ass over there did the same thing, only I didn’t bother catching him.”
Daron dramatically rubbed his sexy behind. “I think I broke my...pride.”
From the other side of the counter, Maris asked, “Coffee?”
“You read my mind.” With a fleeting smile toward the men, Phoenix headed for a stool. “I hope this rain doesn’t last.”
To her surprise, Baxter took the seat right next to her. Until Maris refilled his cup, Phoenix hadn’t noticed it. Now it was too late for her to get up and move without looking rude, which would draw unwanted attention.
“It’s going to rain all day,” Baxter predicted. “Long as there’s no lightning, it won’t interrupt my day.”
“Wetsuits,” Daron said, taking the seat on the other side of her, “are impervious to rain. But you and I—” he gestured at Phoenix and himself “—won’t be able to get anything done.”
Hunks as bookends. Not that long ago, she would have been crawling out of her skin, but now—although a little uncomfortable—she accepted the situation as harmless.
She was congratulating herself for that small coup when Maris slid a cup of coffee in front of her, already doctored with creamer and sugar. “Thank you.” Phoenix couldn’t imagine a better way to toast her continued improvement than with fresh, strong coffee.
Sounding glum, Maris said, “Odds are it’ll be a thunderstorm that shuts down everything.”
“I don’t mind storms.” In fact, she usually liked them. For Phoenix, they helped to insulate her in her own little world, away from memories that could still cut deep.
“Storms mean you can’t work,” Maris explained. “But it also means everyone in the park is going to try crowding in here or the rec center for indoor entertainment.”
“If I’m not working, I could come by and help you.”
Maris gave a look to Daron and Baxter. “Notice neither of them made that offer.”
Daron leaned over the counter. “You want me to keep you company, Maris?” His eyebrows bobbed. “Be happy to oblige.”
Baxter shook his head. “She’s turned you down...what? A dozen times? Give it a rest already.”
“When I can sense victory? No way!”
With a slight flush to her skin, Maris rolled her eyes, then concentrated on Phoenix. “I just took some scones out of the oven. Cranberry orange. Want one?”
“Oh, that sounds delicious.”
Baxter scowled past Phoenix at Daron. “I’m blaming you for us not getting scones.”
“Me? What’d I do?”
“What haven’t you done?” Maris asked.
He grinned. “Not much.”
“You brag like a high school boy,” she accused.
“Any high school boy who’s been with you probably had reason to brag.”
Maris fried him with a look. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Yeah...” Sheepish, he rubbed the back of his neck. “That didn’t come out quite right. I didn’t mean bragging rights because they scored.”
Maris’s expression darkened further.
“I meant because you’re a catch. You know, if you gave them any attention, it was reason to brag.”
This time Maris rolled her eyes. “If you have to explain it—”
“Should’ve kept my mouth shut, I know.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh. Serious come-ons, even when not directed at her, could still make her fidgety, but ridiculous teasing only amused her, and Daron was all about the ridiculous.
Maris didn’t appear to have the same reaction as she set the plate on the bar counter. “I suppose there’s enough to go around.”
“You see?” Daron said as he reached for a flaky scone. “Deep down, she adores me.”
Right before his fingers touched the plate, Maris snatched it out of his reach. She put two on a napkin in front of Phoenix, and two in front of Baxter. With her nose in the air, she headed into the kitchen.
Undaunted, Daron turned puppy dog eyes on Phoenix.
Grinning, she took one and scooted the napkin with the other over to him. “You’re shameful.” Using the excuse of following Maris, she slipped out from between the two men.
The phone in her pocket buzzed with a message.
Knowing it would be Ridley, she withdrew it and saw, Good morning, doll across the screen.
Smiling, she texted back, Good morning. Storms here. You?
Sunny skies. As usual, Ridley added, I miss you.
And as usual, Phoenix replied, I miss you, too. I’ll visit soon.
You keep saying that.
Yes, she did, but she wasn’t yet ready. She wanted to be herself when she saw Ridley again. She needed to prove that she was strong enough to reclaim her life.
Soon, she promised herself. Very soon.
Rather than explain all that to Ridley, which would have her big sister sweeping in for a rescue, she quickly texted, I’m at work. Gotta go.
Love you, Phoenix.
Her heart swelled. Love you, too.
Caught by the wind, the door slammed opened again and Cooper stepped in. More powerful than the storm, he commanded attention in his calm, take-charge way.
The rain had darkened his sandy-brown hair, leaving it stuck in thick hanks to his forehead and neck. His wet T-shirt clung to his wide chest and shoulders. None of that seemed to bother him.
She’d thought Baxter was devastating, but now that Cooper joined them, the room felt smaller and far steamier. He had that type of presence about him, whether he intended to or not.
When it came to her reactions, no man could make her more physically aware than Cooper Cochran.