3 Men and a Body (12 page)

“Sorry I was longer than I’d planned.”

“How was Neiman’s?” Coop asked.

She grasped for a logical lie. “Fine, but I didn’t find what I

was looking for.” Karen Wel s’s address had been bogus,

and the phone number disconnected. The references, too,

were dead ends—all of them companies that had closed. If

her mother had been posing as Karen Wel s, she had

disappeared again. “So tel me what I missed.”

“Coop taught me to body surf,” Wesley said.

“I grew up near the ocean,” Coop explained, lowering

himself to the mat and leaving room for her to sit next to

him.

“Real y? Where?” She pulled her cover-up over her head.

It was much easier to get off than to get on.

Coop stared up at her, his mouth slightly agape. “I forgot.”

Wesley rol ed his eyes. “Oh, brother. I’m going for a

swim.” He tossed down his cards and jogged away.

She sat down next to Coop and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“I might have to go for a swim, too, to keep from

embarrassing myself. Nice suit,” he said.

Carlotta grinned. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.

I’m going to have to retract that ‘understated’ remark.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s all right there. Maybe I haven’t been looking.”

“Careful—you’l give a man hope.”

She put her hand on his. “Let’s just have fun, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“How long until sunset?”

He checked his watch. “It’s six o’clock now. The sun wil

probably set around eight.” He smiled. “But something

tel s me it’ll be worth waiting for.”

They watched Wesley, laughing at his antics, and talked

about Atlanta (the traffic), Hannah (the paradox) and life

(the meaning). They walked to the surf and Carlotta waded

in the frothy water, protective of her cast, while Coop

dived and surfed with Wesley. Carlotta watched them and

thought how good the two looked together. It was a

shame that Wesley hadn’t had a father around to give him

the male attention he so obviously craved.

While she walked, she compulsively checked the faces of

people on the beach, especially couples. She knew the

chances of running into her parents on this particular

stretch of sand were next to nil, but she couldn’t help it.

Carlotta mentally cursed Randolph and Valerie Wren. It

had taken her years to stop scanning faces everywhere she

went. She didn’t want to start doing that again…start

hoping.

Coop emerged from the water looking like a Greek statue

with water sluicing off his lean, muscular body. A jolt of

sexual attraction hit her hard and she suddenly wished

that Wesley hadn’t come as a stowaway, that she and

Coop had the weekend to themselves. That she didn’t

have so much emotional baggage weighing her down.

Coop caught up with her and intertwined their fingers.

They walked hand in hand for a long while. It allowed her

to try on the idea of being with Coop and, inevitably, to

compare him to the other two men in her life. She couldn’t

envision Jack holding hands and walking the beach at

sunset. She could picture Peter holding hands, but the

beach would be the Riviera, and in his other hand would

be his iPhone in case the office cal ed.

“I lied to you earlier,” Coop said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“When you asked how long since I’d been on vacation, I

lied.”

“Why?”

“Because the last time I was on vacation was when I was in

rehab.”

“Oh.” She stopped. “Coop, you don’t have to talk about it

if you don’t want to.”

“No, I think you should know that I’m a recovering

alcoholic before you fall madly in love with me.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

He grew solemn. “I’ve been sober for a long time, but I

believe in ful disclosure. When I drank, I did some pretty

irresponsible things, and people were hurt because of it.”

“Did Wesley ever mention that our mother had a problem

with alcohol?”

“No.”

“He probably doesn’t remember that she always reeked of

either booze or mouthwash. At least she was a happy

drunk.”

“I’m sorry that she wasn’t a better mother to you both.”

Carlotta shrugged. “I guess it was the best she could do.

I’m sure Valerie found a way to convince herself that

leaving us was for the best.”

“Maybe she recognized you would be a better mother to

Wesley than she could be.”

“Or she could have sobered up,” Carlotta said.

He nodded. “You’re right. But if she wasn’t ready to get

sober, thank God Wesley had you.”

“It stil wasn’t fair, to either one of us.” She moistened her

lips. “I think I might hate her for it.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “And she probably expects it,

as wel .”

“You think she’s stil drinking?”

“My guess is yes, or you would’ve heard from her by now.”

“I think so, too.”

He squeezed her hand. “So have I scared you off?”

Carlotta chuckled. “Considering my family issues, you’re

going to have to come up with something better than a

measly addiction to get my sympathy.”

He laughed and they continued walking. She noticed that

he seemed lighter, unburdened. His past obviously

weighed more heavily on him than she’d assumed. She

had the feeling that there was much more to Coop than

met the eye, and she hoped that he would someday share

it with her.

They got back to the mat just in time to watch the sun slip

out of the pink-and-red sky, on its way to another horizon

for another couple to enjoy. The moon took its place,

lighting the water and the beach with silvery hues. And the

exchange took mere minutes.

“Beautiful,” Carlotta breathed, completely relaxed for the

first time in recent memory.

“Yes, you are,” Coop said, and when she turned her head,

he kissed her.

His kiss wasn’t hard and possessive like Jack’s, but an

utterly romantic one. Carlotta opened her mouth to his,

reveling in the taste of him, the way he drew out the kiss

with slow strokes of his tongue. Her body came alive, and

she pressed into him more urgently in the near darkness.

“Gawd, get a room,” Wesley said, walking up to shake

water all over them.

They parted and Carlotta shrieked, swatting at her

brother. They packed up the mat and, on the short walk

back to their hotel, talked about where to go for dinner.

She showered and dressed careful y, feeling a little scared

about the way things were going with Coop. It all seemed

to be happening so fast.

Over dinner she looked for a way to put the brakes on

their mutual attraction, but the spark that had started with

the kiss seemed to smolder al evening. Over bowls of

fresh shrimp and plates of polenta, their eyes met more

and more often as the night wore on. Beneath the table

their knees and hands brushed.

Conversely, Wesley’s mood seemed to worsen. He’d

gotten a sunburn in the short time he’d been on the

beach, and he kept rubbing his arm.

“You should change that bandage,” Coop admonished.

“It’s not good to have damp fabric against an open

wound.”

“Did I ask for your advice?” he snapped.

“Hey, watch your tone,” Carlotta said. “Considering how

you hijacked your way down here, you don’t need to be

rude.”

“Sorry,” Wesley mumbled to Coop.

“It’s okay.” Coop exchanged a glance with Carlotta, folded

his napkin and excused himself to go to the men’s room.

“What’s wrong with you?” Carlotta asked when he was out

of earshot.

“I’m tired of watching the two of you making googly eyes

at each other.”

“We’re not making googly—” She stopped. “I thought you

liked Coop.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I want you to sleep with him.”

“Watch your mouth, Wesley. I don’t have to explain myself

to you. Coop and I are adults.”

“He’s my boss, for chrissake. Besides, what about Peter?”

She squinted. “What about Peter?”

“You cried your eyes out over the guy for years. Now he’s

available and he wants to marry you and you’re ignoring

him!”

“I’m not ignoring him, but I haven’t made any kind of

commitment to Peter. What’s so wrong with getting to

know Coop?” She tossed down her napkin, flustered.

Wesley leaned forward. “Because he’s in love with you,

Sis. This wouldn’t be just a fling to Coop. He’s not like Jack

Terry.”

A direct hit. Carlotta bit down on her tongue until her

mouth sang with pain. “How about you stay out of my

personal life, and I won’t ask you about the woman whose

perfume you reek of when you come home?”

She thought he’d come back with some smart teenage

remark. Instead, the fleeting panic on his face set off

alarms in her head. What else had Wesley gotten himself

into?

“So,” Coop said with a clap of his hands as he reclaimed his

seat, “who has room for dessert?”

With Wesley’s comment about the man being in love with

her reverberating in her head, she conjured up a shaky

smile. “I never turn down chocolate.”

“Chocolate it is,” he said, signaling the waitress.

He ordered a mud pie sundae and coffees all around, but

Wesley didn’t eat. Instead, he merely watched over the

rim of his cup, massaging his arm, while they shared the

decadent dessert. Coop was animated and made her

laugh, parrying his spoon with hers.

But Carlotta grew more and more edgy, mul ing over what

Wesley had said. His sudden partiality to Peter was

puzzling. And some part of her wondered if his behavior

sprang from jealousy of Coop’s attention to her. Stil , he’d

made a valid point or two. If she slept with Coop, it could

change the dynamics for all of them.

When they got back to the hotel, she and Coop lingered in

front of their doors awkwardly. Wesley leaned back and

studied his fingernails, making matters worse.

“Good night, Wesley,” she said pointedly.

“Good night,” he muttered, then looked at Coop. “You

coming?”

“Later,” Coop said.

Wesley frowned and disappeared into their room. When

the door closed, Carlotta swallowed nervously and looked

up at Coop. Everything she’d learned about him on this

trip only made her like him more…and want him more. But

to what end?

“I had fun today,” he ventured.

“Me, too,” she admitted.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am, but in a good way.” She moistened her lips with her

tongue. “Kiss me again, Coop.”

He cupped her face with his hands, then he kissed her

thoroughly and wel . Her limbs grew languid and her body

responded, molding to his.

He lifted his mouth from hers and whispered, “Ask me to

come in.”

“I want to. But, Coop…I can’t make any promises. I don’t

want to hurt you.”

He put his finger to her lips. “I’m a big boy. I can take it.”

She fumbled to unlock the door and they practically fel

into the room. Moonlight shone through the open

window, and the sound of the ocean crashing set a

primitive rhythm for lovemaking. He half carried her to the

bed and pul ed her down on top of him in the

semidarkness.

“I’ve wanted you since I saw you that first time in your

kitchen,” he said thickly.

She smiled. “I was wearing my pj’s and my hair was

absolutely witchy.”

“You were adorable and sexy. Like now.” He slid his hands

down her back to cup her hips against his, leaving her with

rigid proof of how much he wanted her.

Carlotta closed her eyes against the sensations

bombarding her, and she had a scary feeling in her

stomach that she hadn’t felt in years—that this time the

sex would mean something more than just stimulated

nerve endings. “You have me at a disadvantage. I’ve never

done this with one arm.”

He rol ed her over gently and removed his glasses. “Let me

take care of everything.”

Carlotta sighed. It felt good to be taken care of, to give

herself over to pleasure, to submit to his ministrations.

He unbuttoned her blouse and her front-closure bra to

release her breasts into his mouth. She grabbed a fistful of

the bedcovers and moaned, arching against his gifted

tongue. He sighed against her breasts, sending the oddest

sensation of contentment through her though it left her

wanting more. She used her good arm to run her hand

down his spine, then pul the T-shirt over his head. When

his warm skin touched hers, she gasped against the ful

awareness of what was to come. Once again panic licked

at her…but she couldn’t bear to stop.

She explored the firm muscles of his back, felt the heat left

by the sun, slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of

his jeans. He kissed her ribs and stomach, then undid her

pants and slid them down her legs, leaving only her red

thong panties. Coop groaned in appreciation, then

removed them an inch at a time—with his teeth.

Plus one hundred.

She succumbed to the feeling of sliding down a slippery

slope. She would deal with tomorrow when it came. A