My One and Only (Ardent Springs Book 3) (20 page)

BOOK: My One and Only (Ardent Springs Book 3)
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“You’re selling your cousin short,” she said. “He’s here all the time and does great with Emma. Just because you’re afraid of commitment doesn’t mean everyone else is.”

“I am not afraid of commitment,” he corrected.

“Of course you aren’t,” she said with a pat on his arm. “Now,” she said, turning in her seat. “Where are we going?”

Following her lead on the change of subject, he said, “You’ll see when we get there.”

“You really aren’t going to tell me?” she said as he pulled onto the highway.

“Nope,” he said. “But you’ll see soon enough.”

Refusing to give up, she said, “Are we going to eat? Because after having two pieces of apple pie at Mom’s, I couldn’t eat another bite.”

Cooper checked his mirror. “This place serves food, but you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”

They traveled half a mile in silence before Haleigh’s hand drifted onto his thigh. The move was so unexpected, he revved the engine.

“You okay over there?” she asked, false innocence in her tone.

“I’m good.” Cooper kept his eyes on the road, but every nerve in his body was focused on her touch. “Perfectly fine.”

The tip of her finger drew circles on the inside of his thigh. “You sure you don’t want to tell me?”

“You are devious,” he said, taking her hand in his and holding it captive near his knee. “Keep that up and we’ll be in a ditch before we get anywhere.”

She shrugged. “It was worth a shot. I suppose blowing in your ear is out of the question?”

“Darling, you can blow on anything you want once I stop this truck.”

“Hmmm . . .” she mumbled. “Good to know.”

Resisting the urge to pull over in the next parking lot, Cooper couldn’t help but grin at his good fortune. At this rate, he was in for one hell of a night.

Haleigh spotted the sign dead ahead and the truth dawned. Pink, gaudy, and covered in neon hearts, the place hadn’t changed a bit in more than a decade.

“Lovers’ Lanes?” she said in awe. “Are you kidding me?”

“Now you know why you needed the socks.” Cooper hopped out and trotted around to Haleigh’s side, while she continued to stare at the long flat building ahead.

Even the tilted pins painted on the front wall were the same.

As Cooper helped her down, she said, “I thought for sure this place would have been flattened and replaced with a strip mall by now.”

“You should know better than that. Nothing changes in Ardent Springs. And we definitely don’t do strip malls.”

Looking up into Cooper’s green eyes, she said, “I’m glad I came back.”

His contented smile tugged at her heart. “So am I.”

They lingered beside the truck, lost in their own little world of newfound happiness, until a car raced by, tossing gravel in its wake. Haleigh felt as if she’d been jerked from a dream.

“Are you ready for a butt-whupping?” he asked her.

Haleigh’s competitive side sparked to life. “Bring it on, sweet cheeks.” She dragged him toward the entrance. “And try not to cry when I shatter that giant ego of yours.”

“You’re talking to the league high-scorer three years in a row,” he claimed.

Stopping short, Haleigh spun. “You bowl in a league?”

“Not for a couple years, but Spencer and I ruled these lanes. Bowlers feared us.”

She tried to keep a straight face, but failed. “You’re a total dork. A muscle-bound, tattooed dork.”

With narrowed eyes, he said, “Is that good or bad?”

Tapping the dimple in his chin, she replied, “Oddly enough, I find it quite charming.”

“Then dork it is,” he said, sweeping her off her feet and charging toward the entrance.

Chapter 21

As they changed from the bowling shoes back to their own, Haleigh said, “The location is where you come in.”

For more than an hour, his date had deployed every distraction tactic known to womankind, including actually blowing in Cooper’s ear, which made it very hard to follow the current conversation. Especially while she was bent over to slip on her flats, giving him a clear view of the pink lace covering her perfect breasts.

“Are you listening?” she asked, snapping her fingers in front of his nose.

“The shelter,” he said, forcing his eyes down to his boots. “Sounds good.”

Haleigh laughed. “You didn’t hear anything I said for the last two minutes.”

“I’m a man, okay.” Cooper finished tying his shoe and sat up. “The sight of perfect, lace-covered breasts shuts down ancillary systems like hearing and intelligent speech.”

Gripping her shirt collar closed, she said, “Is this better?”


Better
isn’t the word I’d use,” he said with a grin, “but I can hear you now.”

“Good. Carrie has found the perfect location, but the asking price is more than I think we’ll be able to afford just starting out. I’m hoping, since you know everyone in town, that you might have an in with the owners. Do you know anything about JW Property Management?”

Based on her enthusiasm and the animation in her voice, Haleigh had found a passion and a purpose in spearheading this project. Which meant Cooper wanted nothing more than to help her in any way he could. Regrettably, she’d found the one situation in which he could be no help at all.

“I know about JW Properties, but I can’t do you any favors there.” He picked up both pairs of bowling shoes and motioned for her to step up in front of him.

“Oh, come on,” she said, giving her best damsel in distress look. “One phone call. An introduction is all we need.”

Dropping the shoes on the counter, Cooper said, “Thanks, Tony. See you next time.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Coop.”

“So?” Haleigh said. “Please help.”

Nodding to several locals on their way to the exit, Cooper said, “I’ll explain once we’re outside.”

Confusion clouded her eyes, but Haleigh held her tongue until they reached the truck. “You’re acting like this property company is run by the mob or something. What am I missing?”

Cooper sighed. If this was the only viable property, then he was about to impart some very bad news.

“JW Property Management is owned by the mayor.”

“Mayor Winkle?”

“JW is Jebediah Winkle. He owns a couple of businesses, and the property company is one of them. The other is an estate auction business he picked up not long ago.”

“Okay.” Haleigh crossed her arms. “So as a fellow business owner, you must be friends.”

“Not in the least.” Cooper opened her door. “In fact, we don’t like each other at all.”

Haleigh allowed him to lift her onto the seat, then stared down in surprise. “That’s crazy. Everyone loves you.”

She made him sound like the town puppy. “Flattering, but no. In fact, Jebediah and I had a run-in earlier this evening at the Ruby meeting.”

“The mayor is on the committee?”

Cooper nodded. “He is, but all he does is throw interference at anything that isn’t his idea. He and I have butted heads for years, so when I agreed to plan the car rally fundraiser, he became the number one opponent of the event.”

“What’s wrong with a car rally? Not that I know what that is, but still.”

“Hold on,” Cooper said with a chuckle. “I’ll explain in a second.”

Closing her door, he crossed around the front of the truck and climbed in. Who might be able to help Haleigh deal with the mayor? No one came to mind.

As soon as he buckled his seat belt, she said, “So what exactly is a car rally fundraiser? And I’m sorry I snapped your head off the first time you mentioned it.”

Her reference to the night they’d danced at Brubaker’s reminded him how far they’d come in the last two weeks.

“You’d had a rough night, so don’t worry about it,” he said, running his fingers through a curl sitting across her shoulder. “The rally is pretty simple. A bunch of owners bring their classic cars to show off and talk shop with other enthusiasts. And those who wish they owned a classic car come to check out their dream machines. In some cases, they can even buy one. If all goes to plan, lots of folks come out, the theater raises a good chunk of change, and local businesses like hotels and restaurants benefit from the out-of-towners.”

She twisted in her seat, sliding her fingers through his. “And how much does one of these dream machines cost?”

“That depends on the car. My ’56 Ford pickup should pull about twenty grand, but others can go upwards of fifty thousand.”

Haleigh’s jaw landed in her lap. “Are you shittin’ me?”

Cooper loved that her accent thickened the more she relaxed. “No, ma’am. I’ve seen some go for millions. Mostly Ferraris.”

“I’m in the wrong business,” she said with a whistle. “Wait. Did you say you have a truck worth twenty thousand dollars?”

“Yep,” he said with pride. “I restored her over the winter so I could put her up for sale at the first rally.”

With real interest, she said, “Can I see it?”

He hadn’t planned anything beyond the bowling, assuming that’s where the date would end, but he’d take any reason to keep her with him. That she actually wanted to see one of his cars was the second-best reason he could think of.

“Darling,” he said, starting the engine, “it would be my pleasure.”

Haleigh knew nothing about cars beyond what she needed to know to drive one. Like most people, she admired the look of a beautiful classic when one crossed her path, but beyond that, she was clueless.

She was also starting to feel rather clueless about Cooper.

Though she’d known him forever, Haleigh had never put much thought into what he did for a living. If memory served, Cooper started working on cars around the age of fourteen. The memory came clearly because that was the same year that her parents had insisted she abandon sports to focus all her energy on academics. Cooper had leapt into his passion against his father’s wishes and Haleigh recalled being in awe of his open defiance, wishing she’d had the same courage.

From then on, Cooper had practically lived in a garage. Though his love for gears and motors drove him there, the desire to avoid his disapproving father had kept him there.

The Ridgeway patriarch had been a mean drunk who rarely had anything nice to say to either of his children, but especially not to Cooper. Abby had stood by Haleigh’s side through the worst of her battle with alcohol, and she’d often wondered whether her friend’s diligence had been because of her father or in spite of him. Like maybe saving Haleigh had been a way to make up for not being able to save the man who’d raised her.

Considering what Cooper had endured, and knowing that Haleigh carried the same affliction, it was a miracle he wanted anything to do with her.

“The truck is over in the garage,” Cooper said, dragging Haleigh from her thoughts. She looked up to see that they’d arrived at his house while she’d been taking a walk down memory lane. Squeezing her hand, he said, “You’ll have to walk past the coop, but I won’t let Mabel get you.”

She tried to make her laugh sound sincere, but it came out stiff and forced.

“What’s wrong?” Cooper asked, sensing the growing tension in her body.

In a whisper, she said, “Your dad was an alcoholic and so am I. Why in the world would you want to be with me?”

Staring out the windshield, Cooper tapped the steering wheel but stayed quiet. He hesitated so long, Haleigh’s nerves threatened to snap.

“I’m only going to say this once.” He turned in his seat. “You are not like my father. You hear me? You’re nothing like him, and you never will be. He was a coward and a failure and chose booze and misery over his family.”

“He had a disease, Cooper. I have the same one. You can’t refuse to see that.”

“It isn’t the disease that matters. It’s how you deal with it. The fact that you beat it and make a choice every day not to reach for a bottle is proof that you’re better than he ever was.” Rubbing his thumb along her bottom lip, he added, “You were a good person before you took that first drink, Haleigh Rae. And you’re still the same good person right now. I see it every time I look at you.”

Grasping his wrist, she placed a kiss in his tender palm. “I’d give anything to see the girl that you describe staring back at me from the mirror.”

“She’s in there,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “She’s always been in there.”

Wanting to believe him, Haleigh pressed closer as if the message might convey by osmosis. No matter what Cooper said, she couldn’t change her past, but that past didn’t have to define her future.

Pulling back, she took a deep breath. “Enough of that. This is supposed to be a date, not a therapy session. Now show me this fancy truck.”

“Here she is,” Cooper said as he lifted the garage door. The motion-activated light inside illuminated the space the minute the door started to move. He kept his eyes on Haleigh to catch her reaction.

“Holy blindness,” Haleigh said, holding a hand in front of her eyes. “What the heck kind of wattage you got in here?”

“It’s a one-hundred-fifty-watt floodlight. If anybody moves a thing in this garage, that baby lights up. It works as my visual security alarm—I can see it from my bedroom.”

“Why not use a regular security system?”

“I’m afraid it would give the chickens a heart attack.”

Haleigh shook her head. “Leave it to you to be more concerned about the chickens than having a prized car stolen.” Once her eyes adjusted, she took in the truck in the middle of the space. With a puzzled expression, she said, “It’s teal.”

“Technically, it’s Bahama Blue.”

“Right,” she agreed. “Teal.” Her head tilted to the left as she said, “It’s cute!”

Cooper groaned. “You don’t call a 1956 F100 pickup truck
cute
.”

“But it is,” she argued. “All curves and circles. Look at the front. He looks like he’s smiling.”

“She,” Cooper corrected.

With raised brows, Haleigh said, “Unless you specifically installed a vagina during the makeover process, I can call it any gender I want. And I say
he
is cute.”

“You’re killing me, woman.” Cooper waved her forward. “It’s called a restoration, not a makeover. Come closer and have a look.” Reaching through the open driver’s side window, he popped the hood. “I gave her a two-hundred-twenty-three-cubic-inch, six-cylinder engine. Runs like she came off the factory floor last week.”

“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds very exciting.”

“Let’s just say there is serious power under the hood.”

She leaned over the grille. “It’s so clean. Like a giant toy instead of a real truck.”

“It’s both. A toy that will get noticed and make the guy who buys it feel like a badass going down the road.”

“Ah, I get it,” she said. “Boys and their toys.”

“You buy expensive purses. We buy expensive toys.”

“Wrong girl,” Haleigh said, trailing a fingertip along the fender on her way to peer through the passenger door. “I can’t afford cheap purses, let alone expensive ones. Why is the dashboard so plain?”

“Not much need for bells and whistles back in the fifties.” Cooper preferred to talk about her other statement. “I don’t want to pry into your business, but shouldn’t you be able to buy any purse you want?”

He watched her shrug from where he leaned on the driver’s side door. “Maybe someday. When my student loans are paid off. Or if my mother’s house is ever paid for.”

The first part made sense. Med school couldn’t be cheap. But surely her mother wasn’t still demanding money.

“Haleigh, tell me you aren’t supporting your mother.”

Moving along the truck, she answered, “Afraid so. Wow. The bottom of this truck bed looks like a hardwood floor.”

Meeting her at the tailgate, Cooper forced her to look at him. “Is this why you live with Abby?”

“Trust me. I’d get my own place if I could afford it, but if Abby ever throws me out, the only place I have left to go is back home. And I’d rather stick a set of forceps up my nose than live with my mother.”

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