The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

But it was too late—Emma’s confidence had been shaken. “Oh,” she said, and laughed nervously as she slid off the table. “I always wear pointy-toed shoes in case I need to kick some ass.”


Emma stuffed her feet back into her shoes. She turned around. Cooper was standing, too; she hadn’t realized how close she was to him. But there she was, only inches from him, so close she had to tilt her head back a little to see his face. His smile drew her in like a siren call. She could see the dark gray circle around his irises. She imagined she could feel his energy, all male, potent and strong. Good God, she wanted to touch him.

Don’t touch him! “Isn’t someone waiting for you?” she asked.

“No.” His gaze slid to her mouth. “Is someone waiting for you?”

“No one that matters,” she answered honestly to his mouth.

Cooper’s smile softened. He made no move to touch her, but his gaze lazily wandered over her hair, her face, her body. “We should get out of this room. Why don’t we go grab a drink and listen to the drunks sing a few tunes?”

“A drink,” she repeated softly.

“Or two,” he said, “depending on how bad the karaoke is.”

The low spark in his eyes was distracting. It was sexy. It was trouble. “I’m not very good in big groups. I mean, as a participant.”

“Sounds like my brother. No one would believe he’s an introvert, either, but he is.”

What did he mean by that? He thought she was an introvert? No, Cooper, it’s far more screwed up than that.

“You can take a break, can’t you?” Cooper asked. “Reggie has taken a very keen interest in the karaoke machine. This is your opportunity to butter him up, and we both know you should never pass up an opportunity to butter up Reggie,” he said with a bit of a smile.

The rush of guilt and disgust Emma felt was because she’d already buttered up Reggie. She drew the corner of her bottom lip in between her teeth and looked at his very sensual mouth. She would like nothing better than to get a drink with Cooper, to continue this innocuous conversation, to be easy. But Cooper wasn’t like the guys she usually had drinks with, and her belly was beginning to churn.

“Come on, it will be fun,” he said.

Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so attracted, so tempted. But this attraction was impossible for her, for all the secret reasons that, for a brief moment, she had thought he knew. What did he really want, anyway? To be friends? Please, men never wanted to be friends. So what did he want? A grope in a back room? Probably. It was always that, always physical, wasn’t it? Men always wanted to touch her body, to push it, squeeze it, knead it.

Emma suddenly moved closer, so that her body touched his, daring him to do it, to put his hands on her. Come on, show me what you want! she silently shouted at him. She tilted her head back and said, “Do you want me to come?”

Cooper looked confused. His brows dipped as he studied her, but still, he made no move to touch her. “I’d like you to come, yes,” he said, sounding uncertain.

His response was so different than what Emma expected that she didn’t know how to react. He’d just complicated things completely by proving he was not like other men. He’d passed up the opportunity to grope her, to kiss her, to fill his hands with her breasts, and Emma did the only thing she could think to do in that confusing moment—she turned away from him and started for the door. “Sorry,” she said, “but I have to work.”

She walked out of the kiddie lounge and left that gorgeous man standing there.

Emma didn’t see Cooper again until the end of the evening, when almost all the guests had gone home. By then, she was in Reggie’s limousine, his wife and daughter having been sent home in another limousine. Reggie smelled of bourbon and cigars and his hand was between Emma’s thighs. He was leaning toward her when something outside caught his attention, and he rolled down the window to yell at an underling. Cooper happened to be standing on the sidewalk, waiting for his car. His gaze caught Emma’s as Reggie rolled up the window.

“Fucking morons,” Reggie said, and slid his hand up, between Emma’s legs.

“Stop it,” she said, and pushed his hand away. She looked out the window and imagined Cooper’s eyes.





ONE

One Year Later

Los Angeles, California