Bittersweet Symphony (The Damaged Souls series Book 2) (8 page)

The emotion caught in Heather’s voice sounded identical to the feelings that had coursed through me with Owen. All I’d wanted to do was lock the doors to our small home and refuse to let him out. He was mine and where he’d wanted to go was dangerous. Fear taunted my thoughts back then—conjuring up all the different ways my husband could be hurt.

In the end, it was faith that had won—my belief in Owen and the cause he was fighting for. For some, the call to arms was a driving force behind who they were. They couldn’t sit idly by and watch injustice happening, knowing they could help those unable to protect themselves.

My Owen was a hero—the same as Cooper and all those who served in the military. They were heroes before ever seeing combat because it was who they were . . . lights in the darkness of war and violence.

“So when he got hurt and medically discharged, a part of me felt guilty for the huge sigh of relief I let out. My boy was coming home and—” A look of horror filled Heathers face, her eyes widening as she glanced at me. “Oh, Caylee. I’m so sorry. That was thoughtless.”

I shook my head. “Please don’t feel bad. I’ve made my peace with what happened to Owen. And honestly? I’m grateful you were spared that kind of heartache.” The last bit came out as a strangled whisper. I meant it wholeheartedly, too, each word the truth. Resting my hand gently on her forearm, I returned my gaze to the broken frame. “There were moments where I didn’t think I would survive.” My response sounded faint.

Heather’s arm dropped only so she could wrap it around my shoulder, squeezing me to her affectionately. “I can’t even begin to imagine.”

Something told me she could, however. The shattered remains over her son’s medals told a similar story—one that was just as filled with pain and helplessness as mine.

“I think you do,” I murmured, unable to look away from the box. “Cooper did this, didn’t he?” What started out as a guess became more like a fact, my gut telling me my assumption was right.

“Bryce had found them discarded in the back of Cooper’s closet one day. It bothered him that his brother didn’t want to display them or even talk about it so he brought them here. It was my idea to have them professionally mounted. We wanted Cooper to see how proud we were of him.”

Dread sat in the pit of my stomach like a heavy stone. Knowing Cooper as long as I did, I could only imagine his response.

Scratch that, I could
see
what his response was without being told.

“He came over one night for dinner and like a fool, I presented my son with the shadow box. For the rest of my life, I will never forget the drastic change that came over him. It was the first time I realized just how deep his injuries went . . . that it went beyond the physical. It destroyed me to see how lost and angry he’d become.”

Caught up in my own thoughts, it was my turn to gently touch the jagged cracks in the glass. Cooper had done this. “He carries so much.”

“Too much. Standing there, helpless to comfort my son, his father and I listened as he ranted and railed . . . all the bitterness and rage he’d kept bottled inside spewing outward.  It wasn’t until he punched at the glass, blood dripping from the broken skin on his hands, that we finally stepped forward. Trevor crushed Cooper to his chest and simply held him while his son cried.” Tears broke free from Heather’s eyes, falling over her cheeks, her bottom lip quivering. “I could go a lifetime and
never
see that again.”

Grief didn’t only belong to those who survived a loved one—to those painfully acquainted with death. No, there were many ways to lose someone. I was beginning to understand grief also struck at the heart of those who witnessed the passing of a belief—powerless to wipe away trauma from those left living.

It was it’s own form of nightmare—crippling.

I’d caught glimpses of Cooper’s pain—in those moments where I’d somehow managed to break through the walls guarding his more vulnerable parts.

My heart broke for him, like it now broke for his mother.

While it didn’t dismiss my own pain over losing Owen, I couldn’t imagine how difficult it was to witness someone who was still living and breathing, walking and talking, yet slowly dying inside.

In an ideal world, neither would threaten our peace of mind. It was a lesson I often resented, but accepted. I had to believe it made us stronger and better for having survived it.

“You didn’t think to fix the glass?” I asked, finally looking at Heather. I couldn’t bear to stare at the medals a second longer—knowing what it now represented.

Heather seemed to straighten, the grief she had only moments ago shown melting away into something more akin to pride. “Trevor and Bryce have asked me the exact same thing. Cooper knows I’ve hung it on the wall and he basically ignores it like it’s not there.” This time when she gingerly stroked the side panel of the box, it was one of tenderness. “My whole intention of doing this was as a reminder of everything Cooper had accomplished. That something good had come from the horrible things he saw and endured. Kind of like my way of seeing the silver lining.” She cast another tentative glance my way, cautious of her word choice.

It made me love her all the more. That in the midst of sharing her own story, she was mindful of me and my feelings.

“I like that,” I added, a small smile curling the edges of my mouth. “It’s why I have the flag that draped over Owen’s coffin framed and hanging in my bedroom.” I didn’t add that Owen’s parents now had his medals. While I hadn’t visited them in a few months, I knew they’d also planned to one day hang them up—a source of unending pride for the son they’d lost.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to repair the glass. To me, this is a better representation of my son.” Heather must’ve sensed my confusion because she shook her head and quickly continued. “What I mean is this is who Cooper is right now . . . this is how his experiences have changed him. If we’re going to honor the service he’s given, we also need to honor the person he returned as.” Another solitary tear broke free when she blinked. Heather absently swiped at her cheek, catching it before it curved under her chin. “So while he heals, the glass remains.”

It was impossible to keep from crying myself. What had first appeared as something broken, now stood as a testament to the love and strength of this family. They watched, sometimes from the shadows, but still they remained vigilant. They didn’t push or lecture, prod or pressure. They simply accepted that for this moment, Cooper needed to find himself again. There was no doubt in my mind they’d remain there . . . waiting . . . ready to help.

“Look at us.” Heather laughed, sniffling as she finally wiped away her tears with the end of her sleeve. “One minute we’re celebrating and next we’re all emotional.” She released a pent-up breath, breaking the solemn bubble that had filled the room. Faint sounds from the garage and the guys practicing returned.

“I’m grateful you shared,” I admitted, taking a step back. “It’s nice being able to open up to others who know what you’ve dealt with. For the most part, people are empathetic to what we’ve gone through, offering their condolences and appreciation for their services and sacrifice. But still . . .” Those last two words trailed off as I became lost in thought.

There was another reason why I enjoyed visiting with Heather. As a mom, she held that sixth sense ability of knowing the precise moment a hug was needed.

Like right now.

“It’s not the same. There’s a certain kinship that comes when you’re with others who’ve had to endure the same heartache as you. It goes beyond words.”

I nodded against her shoulder, wrapping my arms tighter around her, soaking up her soothing energy. That’s exactly how I felt, and even though her son returned home, she could still understand. One day, I hoped to introduce her to Owen’s parents.

“Should I be worried?” Cooper’s comment startled both of us. I hadn’t heard him coming in and had no idea how long he’d been standing there—listening.

“Of course not,” Heather answered smoothly, wiping her hands against the side of her jeans as she walked toward him. “Practice finished already?”

Cooper didn’t reply, his focus just beyond where we’d been talking on the shadow box with his medals. His mouth formed a tight line and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something.

Almost. His lips parted and he winked. “Yeah. It was hard to concentrate.” His comment was directed my way.

It was nice knowing I had that kind of affect on him.

“
Moi
?” I answered in mock surprise. “Are you sure?”

The look he gave me spoke volumes. His thoughts were miles away from rehearsal and anything that didn’t involve alone time together. The heat from his stare stoked my own impatience.

He made it hard to focus on things for me as well, especially looking the way he did right now.

“Let me get you your lemonade, Caylee, and you two can go off and be young.” Grazing her hand over Cooper’s arm, Heather disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of cupboard doors banging open and closed following.

I almost snorted. Was that what it was called now? Being young?

“Is that what you want to do tonight?” I flirted, the distance between me and Cooper removed. Our fingers intertwined in front of us—just the briefest of touches but it was enough.

He tenderly brushed the side of my face as if he was able to see the tears from before. “I don’t think my mom meant it that way but who am I to argue with my gorgeous girlfriend.” Leaning forward, Cooper placed a kiss on my forehead. “You okay?”

I squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Yep, I really love chatting with your mom.” There was more I wanted to include but didn’t. Cooper was touchy at the best of times with anything that involved memories from the past. For now, I was content to enjoy the private moment between Heather and I. If he wanted to know more, he could ask. We’d been standing in front of his medals—he had to have known it was the topic of our discussion.

He reacted just as I had assumed. Subject avoided. Moving on.

“I was thinking we could grab some take-out and maybe watch a movie at my house tonight.”

“And celebrate.” When his brows furrowed in confusion, I remembered I still hadn’t told him. “I heard some good news today. Something that’s helped make life a little easier.”

When I didn’t continue, Cooper tilted his head. “About . . .?”

“I won the scholarship!” I was barely able to get the words out before Cooper had me up in his arms, swinging me around as he whooped in excitement.

“I knew you’d win it! That’s amazing, sweetheart. We definitely need to celebrate.” Placing me not too gently back on my feet, my head still spinning a little, he cupped my face between his hands and kissed me. “Tell me . . . anything you want to do . . . just name it.”

I couldn’t resist. There was only one thing I had on my mind. Rising up on my tiptoes, I whispered my request softly in his ear.

“That was a given, Caylee,” he murmured, a seductive drawl in his voice that turned my insides to jelly. “But who am I to argue with such a scholarly beauty? Your wish is my command.”

Cooper was still bowing when his mother returned, a jug filled with lemonade in her hands. Happiness shone in her eyes. After our conversation, I knew how much seeing her son like this meant.

Walking us to the door, the guys already gone, I realized I loved my life. It hadn’t been easy reaching this point, but now I was here, there was a lot be thankful for.

It gave me hope for Cooper.

It reminded me that while storm clouds thundered, lightning flashing, it still passed. Rainbows were still possible, no matter the bleakness.

“Thank you,” Heather whispered, giving me one last hug goodbye.

“For what?” I seriously didn’t know.

“For the smile he’s wearing. It’s because of you.”

Her compliment made me blush. I didn’t think she realized just how much she had helped her son recover or the impact she had on his life. When I tried to argue back, she simply shook her head—the subject closed.

With both our cars parked outside, Cooper and I quickly agreed to follow each other back to his house. It was only a fifteen-minute drive but I was grateful for the brief respite being alone would give me.

Adjusting my rearview mirror, more out of habit than anything, I cast one last look at Heather as she stood waving from her front door.

He’s who he is because of you
, I thought, ready to pull away from the curb.

But I also knew she was right. Even I’d seen the change in Cooper since that first night here where I’d approached him after a gig.

Life was good.

The future excited me.

Love could definitely heal the most painful of wounds.

Chapter Nine

Cooper

The soft clicking sound as Caylee’s fingers flew over her laptop’s keyboard seemed to match the rhythm of my own heart beating. The thought made me inwardly snort—my body reacting to even the slightest thing she did.

After leaving my parents home, it had remained unspoken between us—the overwhelming need to be alone. Where I would’ve taken her out to celebrate winning the scholarship, the paper she’d written one I knew she’d poured herself into, I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I refused to share her with anyone tonight.

There’d be plenty of time for parties.

All I could focus on was getting her beneath me—naked.

How glorious it had been . . . the way her softness melted into my hardness. The way she yielded to my touch, to the kisses I feathered softly over her body, the way her back arched in pleasure.

She was so beautiful it was maddening. I couldn’t get enough. If that made me a selfish asshole—the desire to keep her in bed with me—then I embraced that part of me completely.

Staring at her now, her gorgeous legs stretched out in front of her as she bit her bottom lip, concentrating on whatever she was doing on her computer, it was tempting to close her laptop and begin round two.

Tracing my fingers lightly over the bare skin of her ankle, I leaned forward, replacing my hand with my mouth. Goosebumps rose, spreading like wildfire up her leg. Caylee was naked except for the t-shirt she’d claimed from my drawer.

All I could think about was what lay hidden just above the bottom hemline of the shirt. It taunted me—like a siren beckoned ships to the rocky shoreline where they met their doom and destruction.

I’d burn and crash for this woman.

I would throw myself in front of her, time and time again, if it meant I died in her arms. She was my version of heaven. She was the light that kept my darkness at bay.

Once again, I was reduced to the lovesick fool I knew I was.

“Almost finished,” she murmured, peering over the top of her screen. I could see it in her eyes—desire and distraction. There was only one way to respond as I slipped my fingers up past her knee to her thigh, stopping just before the bottom of my shirt.

Fuck if she didn’t look hot as hell in it.

There was only one way I loved Caylee more, other than naked, and that was in my clothes. If that made me some kind of Neanderthal cave man, then so be it. It made me hard just thinking about how she smelled like me, my scent branding her.

Her slight cough caught my attention. Seemed like my state of undress was threatening her concentration . . . or should I say, my state of arousal. While she’d quickly covered up after we’d finished, apologizing for having to respond to an urgent email that she’d received a notification for, I hadn’t.

I wasn’t done with her for the night. Once she’d sent off her response, I had every intention of devouring her again. She made me ravenous—a slave to the chemistry between us.

“Good, because I just had a thought.” Each word was punctuated with another kiss. At this rate, there wouldn’t be a spot on her body that I hadn’t worshipped . . . revered.

“You did?” Her eyes widened as she reacted to my finger teasing the skin just under the shirt—so close to the place where I planned on burying myself for the rest of the evening.

“Yep,” I answered, keeping my reply short. My hand moved a fraction higher. Caylee’s breath hitched, her leg now trembling as she stopped typing momentarily.

I know I should’ve felt guilty for playing dirty—keeping my hands and mouth to myself so she could focus—but I was no saint. With her spread out over my bed, she was lucky I hadn’t shoved her computer away, forcing her to give me her undivided attention.

Because I was a demanding fucker—unable to entertain myself while she took care of schoolwork.

“Cooper,” she exhaled quickly, her breath a little more ragged than before. I couldn’t help but smile. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Okay,” I whispered, my tongue darting out to taste the spot just above her knee. Then because I could, I nipped at the soft skin gently, all while moving my fingers ever so slightly, in a circular motion. When her legs parted a fraction in response, I chuckled out loud.

Cooper – 1

Email – 0

Again, I felt no guilt. In fact, I deserved a medal for the restraint I was showing.

“You’re not helping.” Caylee’s voice cracked with need. Stilling my hand, I glanced up at her, and sure enough, she was no longer looking at her screen. No, she was staring back at me—her gaze darting between my face and where my hand was. For a moment, whether imagined or not, I swore I could hear her thoughts . . . her desperate plea for me to stop with the teasing and take what we both wanted. My own fingers shook, not from nerves, but from impatience.

I wanted what lay at the apex her thighs, that sweet spot that dominated every thought, every breath I took. As if in agreement, my cock twitched and my hand moved higher yet again.

So close.

And like a fragile thread stretched beyond its ability to withstand, my own patience snapped. I’d tried being the supportive boyfriend, willing to watch her quietly while she responded to whoever sent her the message. I tried to show I didn’t just think with my dick and could keep myself in check—able to control my libido for the brief amount of time she’d asked for.

But I wasn’t a miracle worker.

“You’ve got three seconds to hit send, sweetheart,” I warned, my command husky. “One.”

“Just a few more . . .”

I unashamedly interrupted, not letting her finish. “Two.”

That sent her into a flurry of typing. “Cooper!”

“Three.” And with a roar of satisfaction, I closed her laptop.

“But . . .” she stammered, her gaze flitting back and forth between me and her computer, which I’d deftly moved to beside the bed on the floor. “How do you know I was done?”

She was cute when she pouted. “Were you?”

And there was the mischievous twinkle in her eye I’d come to love. “What if I wasn’t?” she pressed, again.

Two could play this game, my eyebrows arched as I fired back. “Were you?” I repeated.

Her gaze dropped to where my hand still lay, under the bottom of my shirt, motionless for the moment. “May—be.” Caylee drew out her reply, a sexy grin beginning to curl the edges of her lips.

The things her mouth could do . . . the insanity that threatened to push me completely over the edge as I imagined her wrapped seductively around my cock. Or when she held it in one hand, lightly blowing over the head, the licking over her lips in anticipation as she bent forward.

“Caylee,” I uttered, so incredibly turned on that thinking was becoming more and more difficult. That last image of her kneeling before me, her head bobbing up and down had broken any chivalrous attempt to play the patient boyfriend.

I needed to be inside her now.

“Cooper,” she exhaled, squirming a little under my heated stare. Hell, she was setting me on fire with her own—each second it scolded me, blazing my insides into an uncontrollable inferno.

She was unlike any woman I’d ever been with.

She tore me down and rebuilt me all with one smile . . . one touch . . . one fucking
anything
.

It was as terrifying as it was exhilarating, knowing she held such power over me. In the past, this was enough to send me running for the hills. Now, all I wanted was to sit at Caylee’s feet and worship her.

She’d shown me what love could feel like.

She’d taught me it wasn’t something to fear.

“Take the shirt off before I rip it from you,” I growled, not caring how demanding I sounded. I was done thinking and waiting. There was only so much I could take before it drove me crazy.

“So impatient,” she purred, sitting forward so she could slowly pull the top over her head. The sight of her perfect breasts exposed made me mouth instantly dry.

Fuck. With one move, I was being rendered no better than a prepubescent boy getting his first glimpse at porn.

“Caylee,” I choked, unable to find the words. All I could do was stare, repeating her name over and over again like it was a prayer. With trembling fingers, all confidence and bravado evaporating, my thoughts went from the lustful raging beast that had chomped at the bit to take her to one of reverence.

She was so damned beautiful—flawless—and for some bizarre reason she was mine.

“Cooper,” she responded, tenderly caressing my jaw, her thumb grazing over my cheek. “Breathe.” Her chuckle brushed over me.

As she scooted forward so she could lie back on the bed, it seemed shameful—a sin—to then cover her with my own body. But I couldn’t help myself. Licking my lips, I was lucky I didn’t blow my load right there and then. Just the sight of her was enough.

“Have I told you how incredible you are?” I murmured, slowly lowering myself over her, resting on my elbows so I could peer into her eyes. This was something else that unraveled the jagged pieces inside—the parts of me ravaged from my past.

Each time I braved catching her glance, I found a world of emotion staring back at me—trust, love, appreciation, and desire. One day I’d confess just how much it meant—how much I needed it.

Caylee smiled. “You have, but I never get tired of hearing it.”

Feathering kisses over her eyelids, I struggled to rein in my desire to pound into her. There was a time and place for that kind of roughness. With how I felt right now, the twist of longing and something I couldn’t quite describe, I wanted
more
.

Her response made me laugh, a sound that still seemed weird whenever I heard it. Fuck, I must be a miserable bastard all the time if the noise surprised me.

“I was trying to decide how we were going to continue celebrating you being a brilliant genius winning that scholarship. Watching you all studious and typing, I was determined to take you hard and fast.” I rocked my body slowly against hers, my eyes closing briefly at the sensation.

Damn, it felt so good.

“But?” Caylee’s fingers grazed across my hips, and it was my turn to groan.

“Something can be said for being patient, though . . . of not rushing things.” Reaching between us, I wasted no time in joining our bodies, both of us gasping as I filled her. “Like this.”

For a second, it was everything I could do not to move as a shiver coursed through me—each and every nerve ending screaming awake. If this was how it felt for me, I wondered how it was for her.

Like fucking heaven
, I mouthed silently.

She’d understood. “Like heaven, Cooper. This feels like heaven.”

Crushing my lips to hers, my tongue matched the penetrating thrust of our hips as we crashed against each other. I caught her moan with my mouth, savoring the way it tasted.

That was one thing I learned from Caylee—that words had a certain kind of flavor that left you craving for more. Or maybe it was simply her . . . I didn’t care. I would always take whatever she offered.

When it came time to move again, I knew I was already lost in the moment. Over and over, with each stroke—either our tongues, my cock, or both—it became difficult to focus on anything but her and the climax building between us.

I watched her—studied her face between kisses.

I listened to her—reveling in each sigh, moan, and
Cooper
she uttered as she started losing control.

My fucking name on her lips . . . I would never tire of hearing it.

Caylee’s nails dug into my skin as she clung to me, totally unaware she was doing it. And like the greedy bastard I was, I loved it, picking up pace so she tightened her grip harder.

Scratch marks didn’t bother me.

Knowing I’d made her lose her mind so completely that she forgot where she was, desperately needing more of the sensations building and pulsing through her, was all the enticement I needed.

I’d wear those scars and marks with honor.

“Cooper,” she moaned louder, her voice raspy and sexy as hell. “Please . . . oh my god . . . please. Don’t—” I chose that moment to let go of my wanting to take my time and gave in to the overwhelming urge to pound away until we both forgot our names. “Stop.”

“Look at me,” I commanded, feeling my own climax rising to the surface. With her gaze locked with mine, I slipped my hand between us, and found her clit. The second I applied the slightest of pressure, she bucked against me, her eyes momentarily closing as her head thrashed from side to side.

“Oooooh, Cooper!” She was focused back on me, her eyes glazed with an overload of need. All I knew was she was looking to me to push her over the ledge. She was right there—I could see it, feel it in the way she now trembled and strained, holding me even tighter.

“Let go, sweetheart,” I urged, not once relenting in tempo. I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to. It was all or nothing. Swirling the tip of my finger, thrusting hard, I knew the second it hit—her body clenching up before she came undone beneath me.

I didn’t stop.

Staring down at her, my gaze darting over her features as if to memorize every nuance, it didn’t take long before I followed her, grunting as I came inside her, finding my own release.