A Fallow Heart (2 page)

“Hey, watch out, guys.” Coop snagged the bottle rockets from them, dangling the bundle out of their reach. “You could poke someone’s eye out with these things.” Not to mention all the havoc they would cause if they actually lit the fuses.

“Coop! Coop man, give ‘em here.” The two clamored toward him, their arms outstretched. “Pass ‘em to me.”

Cooper shook his head and tossed the bottle rockets off to someone else who decided this was an entertaining game and threw the fireworks on to another. The two morons scurried after their prizes, disappearing into the throng, and Coop turned away to seek his own one-dollar draft.

Though unseasonably cool for this time of year, summer was still summer. The night remained tepid and muggy, making sweat plaster his snug shirt to his skin. After purchasing his Coors, he lifted his forearm to wipe moisture from his brow. Being in such close proximity to so many people only made the heat more unbearable than it already was. Craving some fresher air, he waded through the press of warm bodies until he reached the edge of the party. There, he wandered on for a ways before he found a thick cluster of trees that was yet unoccupied.

Letting out a contented sigh, he leaned against the trunk of an aging Chinkapin Oak and closed his eyes, soaking in the delightful solitude. Muffled by the timbers, the activity over at the tank sounded subdued and less vigorous.

This right here was nice. Peaceful. Relaxing.

He reached for the tab of his can, but before he could hear that satisfying hiss, a muffled moan interrupted his moment.

Eyes popping open, he pushed away from the tree.

Someone was in pain.

Not one to ignore a soul in need, he glanced to the right, then the left, before he found a stooped over figure, clutching its stomach.

Hurrying forward, he squinted in an effort to see who occupied the dark nest of trees with him. Long hair, slight frame, though curved enough to provide an undeniably feminine outline, her silhouette made a distinct, familiar impression as he rushed to her side.

“
Rawlings
?” He grabbed her arm to balance her when she swayed, unable to trust his eyes. “Hey, are you okay?”

He couldn’t believe Emma Leigh had stumbled out here, sick to her stomach. First of all, he’d just seen her, and yeah, she’d been imbibing, but she hadn’t been that far gone. Secondly, he’d played one too many drinking games with her in the past to think alcohol would ever make her this ill. She could out-drink him to the point where he’d puke up a lung before she even looked affected. The girl could seriously hold her liquor.

“Em?” He tightened his fingers around her elbow as she continued to clutch her abdomen and bend over as if prepared to heave the contents of her stomach all over the summer foliage.

Hand still full of his unopened beer, Coop used the back of his palm to smooth her long, streaming hair away from her face and feel her forehead, though he wasn’t sure why he checked for a temperature when it appeared as if all she suffered from was the three-two flu.

She lifted her head, her face sallow, eyes rimmed with dark rings, and cheeks reflecting the white from the moon. “Cooper?”

Before he could stop himself, he jerked back, releasing his grip from her suddenly potent skin as if she’d stung him.

Not Emma Leigh after all.

Em had never called him Cooper in her life. Just Coop.

Oxygen rushed from his lungs. “Jo Ellen.” Her name came out sounding a little rusty from the old voice box, probably because he rarely spoke it aloud and his vocal chords weren’t used to its cadence.

Though Emma Leigh’s twin looked identical to her, Coop had never confused the two before. He considered Emma Leigh a friend, someone to hang out with and laugh with when he wanted to have a good time. She was one of the guys. He could relax around her and tell her just about anything.

Em was comfortable.

Her sister, Jo Ellen, made him decidedly uncomfortable.

Maybe it was because he’d developed a raging crush on her in the third grade when their teacher had assigned him to sit behind her in class, and he’d yet to shake that feeling of complete adoration. But the strawberry scent of her shampoo, the dulcet tone of her voice, the aura surrounding her, they had all embedded themselves on his soul. He was just so fascinated by her.

Or maybe he grew nervous in her company because she wasn’t as loud and obnoxious as Emma Leigh.

Jo Ellen Rawlings exuded a prim and proper manner, making her twin seem especially rowdy. She typically kept her expression guarded and polite while Emma Leigh was only too eager to communicate everything on her mind, be it an appropriate time and place for such declarations or not. Jo Ellen’s quiet way made him antsy, always wondering what she thought of him.

She was a lady, and he was infinitely aware of her…as a male.

Or better yet, maybe he could never relax around her because she was dating the ultimate dirt bag, who also happened to be Cooper’s one and only nemesis. And if Coop had to name a single person he hated, it would be Travis Untermeyer. Though to be fair, Coop conceded, he hadn’t truly come to despise Untermeyer until he’d learned the guy had snagged Jo Ellen Rawlings. Still, the prissy mama’s boy thought he was God’s gift to just about everything, and he never failed to treat Coop like some poor, filthy, dumb farm boy who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as him.

Well, Coop didn’t think that runt of a human being deserved to have a girlfriend as pretty and polished as Jo Ellen Rawlings.

“Where’s Untermeyer?” he asked, darting his gaze around for Pretty Boy to appear out of nowhere and scold Cooper for not only touching his woman but actually coming within three feet of her.

He couldn’t quite understand why she was out here by herself anyway. Since she and Untermeyer had begun going steady their sophomore year, Coop had never seen one without the other lingering nearby.

But Jo Ellen ignored his question. “Have you seen Emma Leigh?”

“Uh…” Cooper squinted toward the horde of people crowding around the tank. “Yeah,” he answered. “I just did not thirty seconds ago. She stormed off, looking for Bose Eden.”

He turned back to Jo Ellen just as she once again curled into herself and cradled her belly with both arms.

“Want me to go fetch her for you?” he offered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, not sure how to aid her without somehow offending. Not that his assistance
would
offend. But if she were in any way loyal to Untermeyer, she’d be wary about accepting anything from Cooper Gerhardt, even if it was a simple helping hand.

“Would you please?” Jo Ellen’s voice rasped weakly as she glanced up at him with her drawn and pale face. “Tell her I…I’m going to be…sick.”

With that, she arched in her stomach and vomited.

“Jo Ellen!” Panicking, he leapt toward her. Since he was more hesitant to make contact now that he knew whom he was dealing with, he kept his touch light as he gripped her shoulder to keep her from falling.

Her frail frame lurched, and between spouts of emptying everything inside her, she whimpered. He grimaced but tucked his Coors under his arm so he could use both hands to hold her up and gather her hair out of the way. Lifting his face from the scene to keep from being sick himself, he glanced around, once more searching for Pretty Boy.

Where the hell was her precious boyfriend? Shouldn’t he be doing this instead? Then again, Coop bet Untermeyer wouldn’t slink within ten feet of anyone puking their guts out, girlfriend or not. No, he probably considered that lowly job fit for dirty, dumb farm boys like Coop.

Cooper rolled his eyes. No wonder why the jackass was nowhere to be found.

Weak and drained, Jo Ellen leaned against him as soon as she finished, pressing her warm, damp forehead to his neck and shivering as if chilled. Instantly, his body went taut. Her smell
invaded his nostrils, leaving him dizzy. Never thinking of himself as a flower person before, he suddenly cherished the heady fragrance of crisp carnations exuding from her.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders to support her. She wilted and snuggled trustingly close to let him sustain her weight. He told himself his actions didn’t mean anything. Cooper was a nurturer by nature. He’d lend assistance to anyone in need. But for some reason, this felt different. He didn’t contemplate all the places Untermeyer had no doubt put his disgusting paws. All he could imagine was every place he’d like to put
his
hands.

Oh yeah, she felt that good.

Didn’t even matter if she’d come within six inches of throwing up on his boots ten seconds ago.

“This way.” Rising slowly to his feet, he drew her up with him. Juggling beer and girl in his arms, he led her from the trees. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Dismissing the idea of seeking out Emma Leigh, he led Jo Ellen away from the crowd, wanting to take care of her himself. A part of him, Coop realized, had always wanted to take care of her.

Like a limp rag doll, she lulled her head back so she could look at him. Her face was slick with perspiration, her eyes sunken and glazed. Yet she still remained breathtaking.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice sweet as an angel’s despite how fragile it sounded.

“Hey, it’s no problem.” He slid his arm down so he could support her around the waist. She meekly followed where he led, clinging to him like a baby kitten.

“Who’d you come here with,” he asked, steering her in the direction of his parked truck.

“Em,” she slurred out the name.

He nodded. “Where’s Untermeyer?” he asked again, though he really didn’t care. Pretty Boy could be sun tanning on a Hawaiian beach with gorgeous, topless women serving him cocktails every hour for all it mattered, as long as he wasn’t here and Coop could keep holding Jo Ellen Rawlings just like this.

“Went with his parents to…” She paused to hiccup, “
…to the country club for a family dinner.”

He lifted his eyebrows surprised. “Really? Why didn’t you go with him? Aren’t you considered family?” For as long as she’d been dating Travis, he would’ve assumed she’d be an honorary member by now.

“Guess not,” she sounded depressed to report. “I wasn’t...” hiccup, “…
invited
.” Cynicism reverberated through her words as she stressed invited as if she’d assumed the same thing Coop had.

Keyed up about the likelihood there might be trouble in paradise between her and Pretty Boy, Coop opened his mouth to question her. But she caught her toe in a prairie dog hole and stumbled.

“Whoa there.” She would’ve pitched face-first into the dirt if he hadn’t tightened his grip and pulled her flush against him. She let him hold her close and even buried her face in his chest, wadding a fistful of his shirt in her hand.

He swallowed and tried to ignore how nice her breasts felt mashed to his ribcage.

“You smell good,” she slurred, humming out a delighted sigh.

Cooper stopped walking, and not so prepared for the abrupt halt, Jo Ellen banged her forehead against his chin.

“What did you say?” he strangled out the words.

“Smell good,” she repeated and rubbed at her injured temple before lifting her face to press her nose into his jugular, where she purred her approval.

The vibration tickled him low in his gut while the fall of her balmy, moist breath on his throat had him going instantly hard.

“Lord have mercy.” He caught her shoulder to yank her away, but instead he found himself holding her right where she was. Glancing around to make sure no one saw them, he asked, “You’re totally wasted, aren’t you?”

Her head fell back again so she could look at him; he was surprised she didn’t crack the back of her skull against her spine she looked up so sharply. With a sloppy grin, she answered, “You’re jus’ now figuring tha’ out?”

He muttered a curse under his breath, closed his eyes briefly to pray for self-control, and took her elbow. “Come on. We need to get you home. Now.”

“You don’t smell like Travis,” she continued, stumbling into step with him.

“That’s because I’m
not
Travis.” Never so glad to see his ride come into view, he veered her left. Being compared to Untermeyer wasn’t something he wanted to suffer through. Ever.

But Jo Ellen surprised the snot out of him when she made a sound of agreement and added, “He always wears a bunch of stinky cologne; but not you. You smell really good. Like a man.”

“Huh?” Cooper jerked to another stop and gaped down at her.

“Yo, Coop,” someone called, interrupting them. He jumped guiltily, though what he had to feel guilty about, he wasn’t sure. He certainly hadn’t forced Jo Ellen Rawlings to admit she preferred his smell to her own boyfriend’s.

“Where’d you get that beer?” the interloper asked.

“Here.” Coop tossed over his unopened can, unable to take his gaze off Jo Ellen’s face. “Take mine.”

His recipient was only too eager to accept as he snagged it from the air. “Hey, thanks.”

Jo Ellen stared right back at him just as intently as he was studying her. It took a great effort for him to concentrate. “If you see Emma Leigh around, tell her I drove her sister home, would you?” he called to whomever.