Mistletoe Bay (21 page)

“Someone strung a line of lightbulbs up there so you can see the course at night.”

“Sounds nice.” She could tell they were heading up a hill. “Does the cove freeze during the winter? I haven't been ice skating in years.”

“No, but there's Sarah's Pond for that.” Coop glanced over at her. “Don't tell me, you don't know where that is either?”

She shook her head. She would laugh, if it wasn't so pathetic. Here she could have been taking the boys to Sunset Cove last summer, but she hadn't even known it existed. Instead they had waded in the bay on those hot summer days. “I'm a lousy mother.”

“You are not.” Coop pulled the SUV onto another gravel road that wound its way into the woods. “Why do you think that?”

“I should have gone out exploring the town more. This is our home now.”

“You never would have found the swimming beach or Suicide Hill by exploring, Jenni. They are pretty well hidden, as you can see.” Coop pulled to a stop in what seemed to be a big, clear parking lot filled with gravel and ruts. “We can't get out and see everything with those”—he nodded to her high heels—“shoes on. You'll break an ankle.”

“Sorry, I didn't realize hiking would be required.” She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned forward so she could see out the windshield better. “So this is Suicide Hill?” In the beam of the headlights she could see a clear area that went all the way down to the edge of the cove. The run didn't look dangerous or steep, but having water at the end of the run didn't seem like a smart idea to her. Tucker would take the frigid water as a challenge. “It doesn't look bad, except for the stopping.”

Coop chuckled as he unbuckled his seat belt. “There will be piles of hay bales and a snowbank so thick and high around the shoreline that no one would go into the water. It's perfectly safe.”

“Well, if that's the case, I will go down Suicide Hill with you.” She'd sledded steeper runs by the time she was Chase's age. At the edge of the light she could make out a couple of those fifty-five gallon drums Coop had told her about. They were well away from trees, and there were quite a few piles of wood laying around waiting for the first snowstorm.

“You will?” Coop's voice held laughter.

“Sure.” She'd never figured Coop to be such a wuss when it came to tobogganing.

“I'll hold you to that.” Coop leaned forward and gave her a quick, teasing kiss. He pointed over her shoulder and out the passenger side window. “Suicide Hill starts up there”—his finger indicated the top of the small mountain next to them—“and ends down there.” His finger moved until it was pointing at an area of the cove that was far to the right of them.

She frowned out the window. In the shadowy moonlight, all she could see were trees. “Where's the run?”

“On the other side of the trees. The run starts at the very top, and there's at least two hairpin turns in it. Most beginners never make it past the first one.”

“What stops them, the trees?” No wonder they called it Suicide Hill.

“Sometimes, but usually fortified snow banks prevent any major injury.” Coop leaned in closer. “You don't have to worry, though. I'd mastered the run by the time I was fifteen. I won't let anything happen to you.” Coop's voice held nothing but teasing and laughter.

“You tricked me.” She nodded to the safe little hill in front of them. “So what's that?”

“The kiddie run.” Coop was still laughing when he kissed her.

Chapter Eleven

Coop started to unload the cart stacked with boxes. He might not be able to drive his truck to the door of Jenni's shop, but he could push a dolly over the rough dirt path. He didn't mind the extra work, and besides, he got to see Jenni. By next week, if they got the snow that was being forecast, he wouldn't be able to use the dolly.

Jennifer Wright was turning his world upside down. Three months ago he would have told anyone who would listen that that particular feat was impossible. One little five-foot-four-inch woman with the most delectable mouth had not only proven him wrong, but she had dropped him to his knees and he was about to cry “Uncle.”

“Thanks, Coop. I appreciate the extra effort.” Jenni took the last box and sat it by the door. “One day when I become rich, I'll have that driveway paved.”

“How thankful?” Coop backed her up against the closed door and stared at her mouth. He couldn't care less about the condition of her driveway. He had to rush through his morning deliveries and had cut his lunch short to make sure he made Mistletoe Bay Company's stop before Felicity got home from school. As it was, he had about ten minutes alone with Jenni before they would be interrupted.

Jenni's smile was pure wickedness. “Gee, you want a tip or something?”

He stepped closer without taking his gaze from her lips. “Or something.” He didn't even want to think about how many company rules he was breaking right about now. He didn't care about anything but kissing Jenni. His dreams last night had been hot, erotic, and entirely unsatisfactory. He wanted the real thing. He wanted Jenni.

The tip of Jenni's tongue slipped out from between her lips. With a slow and deliberate movement, she slowly ran it across her upper lip.

A groan rumbled up his throat. “You're doing that on purpose.”

Jenni's smile grew. “Of course.” Her thin arms wrapped around his neck as she stood on her tippy toes. “You're too tall.”

“You're too short.” He brushed the side of her mouth as his hands spanned her waist. A woman with three children shouldn't be this hot, be this desirable, or smell this tempting. Jenni smelled like sugar cookies warm from the oven. The fragrance alone was making his mouth water.

“Five-four isn't short.” Jenni's moist lower lip pouted playfully as her fingertips teased the back of his neck and wove their way into his hair.

He lightly nipped that lip. “Six-two isn't tall.” Jenni's fingers felt hot against his chilled neck.

“Coop?” Jenni pressed herself against his chest, trying to get closer.

“Hmmm . . . ?” He skimmed her jaw with tiny nibbles. Jenni Wright was like a fine wine; she needed to be savored, not gulped.

Jenni turned her head and tried to capture his mouth. “Kiss me.”

“I thought you'd never ask.” He finally did what he had been dying to do since saying goodnight to her last night. He kissed her.

There was nothing sweet or slow about their kiss. They were beyond that point, but nowhere near where his body was craving to be. He wanted Jennifer Wright in his bed, naked and smiling. They were both too old to be playing this frustrating game of sneaking kisses when no one was looking. The Wright household had more eyes than a optometrists convention.

Jenni lightly bit his lip and moaned.

The woman was playing with fire, and she knew it. Before he slipped over the edge, and his smoldering campfire turned into an inferno, he slowly broke the kiss and reached for the last tattered threads of his self-control. “Jenni”—he brushed one last kiss over her moist lips while trying to catch his breath—“Felicity will be here any moment.” The last thing he wanted to do was give an impressionable teenage girl a sex education 101 class.

Jenni looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn't. Jenni slowly lowered her arms, and he stepped back.

He smiled gently. At least he knew whatever he was feeling, Jenni was too. This fierce heat was between them, but there was something else, something powerful and so new to him that he couldn't put a name to it. Desire, lust, and just plain old horniness, he understood. Whatever was happening between him and Jenni was different and it was starting to scare him.

Jenni worming her way into his heart, he could handle. Chase and Corey made his blood drop a few degrees. Tucker, on the other hand, made it freeze. The five-year-old had used his grandmother's toothbrush on Bojangles's teeth and hadn't bothered to tell her about it until two days ago. Dorothy was currently working her way through her third bottle of mouthwash.

“How's the remodeling coming along?” All week long Pete Van de Camp's beat-up old pickup had been parked in front of the house. It was a record for Pete.

Coop had made a habit of stopping by just about every night on the pretense of checking Pete's work. In truth his visits were for Dorothy's cooking and Jenni's kisses.

“Pete seems to be holding it together, and for some strange reason, I think he's bonding with Tucker.”

“Tucker? Your Tucker?” If Tucker had been left out in the woods, wolves wouldn't even raise him.

“Yes, my Tucker.” Jenni grinned. “It's kinda cute. Pete let him chip away at the tile in Dorothy's old bathroom the other day when he got home from school.”

“He gave Tucker tools?” Coop glanced out the window next to the door. He could make out the section of the second story that was Dorothy's bathroom. “It's still standing.” He would have placed money on at least one gaping hole, if not scorch marks damaging the wooden siding.

Jenni whacked him on the arm. “Tucker's not that bad.” Jenni chuckled at herself. “Most of the time.”

“If you say so.” He would be the last to admit that he kind of liked Tucker. The boy had what John Wayne referred to as “grit.” “Hasn't Tucker tried to electrocute, glue, or decapitate Pete yet?” Maybe the boy was going soft in his old age. Or maybe Pete was working drunk out of his skull.

What did he know about kids? Absolutely nothing. He was an only child. Jenni was the first woman he'd ever dated who had a child, let alone three.

“There was the one incident with the pliers, but that didn't count. Tucker was only trying to imitate Felicity and pluck the cat's eyebrows.” Jenni opened up the first box and pulled out a packing slip.

“Felicity plucks the cat's eyebrows?” He had lived with his ex-girlfriend for seven years. When Candace wasn't plucking her brows, she was getting them waxed, shaped, and sometimes dyed. Then she would spend two days pouting because he never seemed to notice. A woman's eyebrows weren't high up on his pay-attention-to list. As long as Candace hadn't been sporting a unibrow, he couldn't understand what all the fuss was about.

Jenni glanced up, glared at him, and then rolled her eyes. “Just be thankful you didn't hear Dumber's scream.” Coop was pulling her leg again, so she pulled his back. Thankfully Pete had caught Tucker before he could get the cat's head steady.

Coop shuddered. “I thought you said Pete and Tucker were bonding?”

“They are. Pete promised not to pluck Tucker's eyebrows with a monkey wrench if Tucker promised not to try that number again.” She sliced through the tape on the next box—more empty jars. “Tucker will hold to his promise not to, because he never does the same thing twice.” Her son had more creativity than that.

“So Pete's working out okay? No problems?” Coop lifted up the next boxes onto the work table for her.

“He's doing a great job in Dorothy's bathroom. The only problem is, she and Felicity now have to share my and the boys' bathroom, and it's getting crowded real fast.” She didn't want to think about the athletic abilities she now needed just to take a shower. Between boats, toys, six bottles of shampoo and just as many of conditioner, not to mention bars of soap, bottles of body wash, buffs, puffs, and Lord knew what all else, there was barely any room to stand, let alone move.

Last night she had showered with Buster the turtle floating on an orange plastic Frisbee with a few chew marks around the edges. Buster was fascinated by bubbles.

Coop was polite enough to try to hide his laughter. “How much longer will it take before Dorothy's bathroom is operational?”

“Pete got the tub into place this morning. He's putting up the wallboards or whatever it is that he needs before tiling.” Dorothy was having a ball picking out the tile and fixtures, even though she would never admit it. Dorothy had fought her on which room of the house should be done first. For the first time in their relationship, Jenni had pulled rank on her mother-in-law. After all, it was Jenni's house.

“Is she still feeding Pete?” There might have been a hint of envy in Coop's voice; she couldn't tell.

“Every chance she gets. You jealous?” Coop was at their dinner table more nights than not. He loved Dorothy's cooking, just like every other male in the world. “If you are, you'll have to stand in line behind Eli.”

“Eli's not handling Pete's presence very well, is he?” Coop glanced at his watch and frowned.

“Pete doesn't look at Dorothy the way Eli does. Eli has nothing to be jealous about. Pete eyes her rump roast, while Eli eyes her . . .” She stopped in midsentence as the door to the shop opened and Felicity walked in.

“Hi, Coop,” Felicity said as she hung up her winter coat. A few snowflakes fell to the ground. “Fancy seeing you here.” Felicity's grin was infectious and all-knowing.

“Had a delivery.” Coop nodded to the stack of boxes on the work table.

“I just bet you did.” Felicity wiggled her brows. “It's starting to snow again.”

Last night they had gotten about two inches of the white stuff. “They aren't predicting any real accumulation till late Saturday night or Sunday morning.” Jenni glanced at Coop. “We might have to cancel our date if it starts early.”

“Nonsense. That's why they invented four-wheel drive.” Coop didn't look too pleased with the prospect of calling off their date.

Jenni tried not to smile. It was good to know he was looking forward to some alone time as much as she was. She watched as Felicity headed for the back room, and she gathered up her courage. “I was thinking, instead of us eating out, I could cook you a meal.”

“Don't you mean cook everyone a meal?” Coop zipped his jacket, not seeming to like that idea.

“No, I was thinking about cooking it at your place.” She knew he had an apartment over in Sullivan somewhere.

Coop's eyes lit up. “It's a pretty small kitchen.” “I'll manage.” When she and Ken had first gotten married their entire apartment hadn't been any bigger than her current family room. Every time she had washed dishes in the kitchen sink, she had unintentionally splashed Ken on the sofa with sudsy water.

“I don't have a lot of gadgets and cooking equipment. Just the basics, the very basics.”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” For some perverse reason she wanted to show Coop she could cook a meal and that she wasn't totally helpless in the kitchen. It might not be as fancy as Dorothy's but it would be delicious. Ken never once complained about her cooking.

“No.” Coop glanced at Felicity as she came out of the back room carrying a tray of light purple soap. “I just don't want you to go to too much trouble.”

“I'll bring everything I need.” She wasn't stupid. She knew what was going to happen if she spent hours alone with Coop in his apartment. By the look in Coop's eyes, he knew it too. She might as well have put a sign around her neck that read,
I WANT TO SLEEP WITH YOU
!

 

 

Felicity sat on the chair and tried not to glare at Sam. It wasn't his fault that Tucker and Corey were all over him and wouldn't leave him alone. Well, not 100 percent his fault. Her nephews never left Sam alone when he came over. Chase was sitting on the end of the couch laughing at his brothers and Sam's antics.

This was not how she was supposed to be spending her Saturday night. It was pretty bad when her widowed sister-in-law was out having more fun. At least Jenni was allowed out of the house, while she was confined for the night because of a few snowflakes.

It was more than a few, but before the first thousand flakes had hit the ground, her mother had pulled the plug on Sam and her plans to go see a movie in Franklin. Sam's father hadn't helped matters when he had agreed with her mother.

“Sam, are you hungry yet?” She knew it was a stupid question. Sam was always hungry. Her mother had roasted a chicken tonight, with all the trimmings. It had been the size of a small turkey, and there had been barely anything left on the platter. Jenni and Coop hadn't even eaten with them. They had disappeared fast, after promising the boys that they would take them sledding tomorrow. A curious person would have to wonder what kind of plans they had beyond a meal and a DVD Coop claimed he'd rented.

She wasn't a curious person—much.

“In a minute, Felicity.” Sam rolled Tucker off the couch and onto the floor. Corey had his arms around Sam's neck and was riding his back as an animated movie played on the television. Chase turned up the volume as the boys yelled and squealed and basically rolled around like idiots.

She was dating an idiot.

She wondered if anyone would hear her scream out her frustration?

There was no way she could watch one more kids' movie without throwing something through the screen. Tonight her mother, Hope, and Faith were supposed to be watching the boys. Sam and she weren't even supposed to be there. She had fulfilled her family obligation last night by sticking around after dinner and helping everyone carry down box after box after box of Christmas decorations from the attic. The entire family room was floor-to-ceiling boxes.