Finding Abigail (2 page)

Oh, he knew what it was; he just hadn’t wanted to think about it.

He shook, the pain white-hot and blinding, as the wings he’d ignored for so long, hoping they’d never appear, slid out of his back and filled the room.

Finally, oh, God, finally, he calmed, his wings in place, his destiny sealed. Taking a deep breath, Tyler opened his eyes, not ready to look behind him. But, he wasn’t a coward; no, he was a Cooper. He risked a glance and cursed.

White wings sprouted out of his back. He moved them slightly so he could get a better look and cursed again. Yeah, still a bit tender, but wings tearing their way out of a back would do that to a guy.

He looked closer and saw they weren’t fully white. No, they had light pink colorization on the edges of each feather and the surface held an even lighter dusting of pink.

Oh, fucking hell. Yeah, that’s manly
.

Not only did he have wings, they were fucking pink.

“Holy shit, Tyler. What the fuck?” Brayden, his brother, asked as he came into the living room.

Damn it. Why hadn’t he locked the door behind him? Served him right for growing up in a family that felt comfortable enough to walk into each other’s homes unannounced. He’d never do it at his older brother Jackson’s again. Well, maybe. Fuck.

“Tyler? You have fucking wings. Pink-as-fuck wings.”

“Why is it people think you’re the nice one, Bray?” Tyler asked as he turned toward his brother. His wings knocked a lamp off his side table, and he winced. “Fuck, I’m not used to these things yet.”

“People think I’m the nice once because I
am
nice. Just not to you freaks. But, what the hell, Ty?”

“I have issues.”

“No shit, but really, what the fuck? They’re pink.”

Tyler could feel the heat in his cheeks and knew he was blushing. Damn, that’s all he needed—his face to match his wings.

“Yeah, well, it comes with the job. And why the hell aren’t you freaking out more?” Tyler stood as still as he could and tried to will his wings to go away so he could sit down. No such luck.

Bray shook his head then got a beer out of the fridge. Ah, it was so nice that his brothers felt it was okay to take his shit. Yeah, not so much.

“You ask this after Matt turns into a ghost for eleven years, Jordan is a witch, Justin is one of Santa’s friends, and his fiancée is an elf? You being, well, whatever the hell you are, doesn’t faze me. It’s just one more thing tossed onto the Coopers. We’ll deal.”

There did seem to be a lightning rod of holiday and other weird crap in the center of their family, though Rina, the elf, said it was the town, not the Coopers, that was the center. Well, that didn’t seem entirely accurate if he analyzed what had happened in the past few months.

“What fiancée?” Tyler moved quickly toward Bray and knocked over a picture frame. The glass hit the floor with a crash. “Fuck.”

“Smooth, twinkle toes,” Bray said as he took the spot on the couch Tyler wanted. Fucker. “That’s why I’m here. Justin popped the question, and Rina was doe-eyed enough to say yes.”

“Well, hell. We’re falling like flies.” First Matt had married his high-school sweetheart, Jordan, after she’d come back to Holiday. Now, Justin had his Rina, though he’d already known about Matt, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising. At least there were three more Coopers to hold the fort of singlehood.

“Well, with those wings, I’m sure you can stay in the air a bit longer,” Bray drawled as he took a swig of his beer. “Now, you gonna tell me what the hell you are?”

“I thought Jordan said it was rude to ask that,” Tyler said, delaying the inevitable.

Bray raised a brow. “Jordan isn’t here, and you’re my brother. What’s with the wings?”

“I’m a cupid.”

Bray nodded. “I figured since it’s February, you have pink wings, and. well, this is
Holiday
, it had something to do with that. Wanna tell me exactly what that means, and why you don’t seem surprised by it?”

Tyler shrugged, knocking over a pillow with his wings. 

“They’re not that pink. And I’ve known all my life.”

“They’re pink; don’t lie. What the hell, Ty? I thought you got on Matt for lying about being a ghost. Now look at you.”

“What happened to Matt was
done
to him. I was born this way.”

“So, it’s hereditary. Guess that means Jackson and I should be scared.”

“No, shit. I don’t know.” Tyler looked into his brother’s eyes and didn’t see surprise at the whole hereditary thing. “Is there something you want to tell me about a holiday you’re connected to? Am I missing something?”

“We’re talking about you right now,” Brayden evaded.

“You’re hiding something.”

“I’m not in the mood to talk about what is or could be happening. How did you know you were a cupid?” Brayden said as he raised a brow, daring Tyler to continue on the subject that seemed a bit touchy.

“Fine, we’ll drop it for now. As for my being a cupid? I just remember hitting puberty and another cupid coming to the house and explaining my job.”

“Another cupid? There are more of you?”

“Apparently, it’s a business like Justin being Santa’s executive. I don’t know. I haven’t done anything with it and haven’t had the wings or anything until now. This is my first year, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. They’re supposed to send me a packet or some shit explaining where my zone is.”

“So, you’re supposed to spread…love?”

Tyler sighed and winced as his wings went back to being hidden, sliding back into his skin, folding with a slight creak in his bones. It felt as though someone was bending his arm at an odd angle, not hurting, but not feeling like he wanted to do it every day either. Apparently, all he had to do was relax while thinking about making his wings disappear. Nice, he’d have to remember how he did that for the next time.

“I suppose it’s my job to help people find their true love.”

“You? Mr. I-don’t-make-commitments-past-breakfast?”

“Yep. Pretty much. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a nap before I deal with the fact that I’m a fucking cupid, and don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

“A nap? Really? That’s all you have to say? Damn, Tyler. You don’t even want to think about getting married. How are you supposed to help others?”

“I don’t fucking know. It’s my job, my…destiny. We’ll see what happens when the packet comes and I figure out what to do, but I don’t know.”

“So, you can tell when people are supposed to be together?” Bray asked, nervousness in his tone.

Oh, he knew his brother had a right to be nervous, but it didn’t take him being a cupid to know who Bray should be with considering his brother never had eyes for anyone other than Allison. But that was another story.

“Those powers will come now that I’ve reached cupid-maturity, or whatever they called it.”

Bray let out a breath then got up to leave. “Are you going to tell the others?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I? I mean, you know.”

“I can keep a secret if you need me to, but I think the others should know.”

Ty let out a breath and finally sat on the couch. “Yeah, I’ll tell them. As soon as I know what the hell I’m doing.”

Bray let out a dry laugh. “You might want to tell them before that. Since if you wait that long, we’ll all be dead.”

“Ass.”

“You want me to just let them know?”

Relief filled him. “Sure, that way I can just deal with the questions later. Because you know there’ll be tons.”

Bray smiled, and Tyler shook his head. “Does this mean you can find your own true love?”

An odd hollowness spread through Tyler at the thought. “I don’t know.”

Bray nodded, his eyes a little too knowing. “Okay then, twinkle-toes. Keep the wings hidden, and I’m here if you need me.” His brother let himself out, and Tyler laid down on the couch.

Well, hell. Now his brothers would know and, in turn, the women and their group of friends. Secrets didn’t go over well in the Cooper family, even though they all had them. He’d known since he was a kid what he’d have to become, that he’d finally arrive at that special age to be the cupid of Holiday and wherever the hell else they sent him. That he’d have to be the man, cupid, whatever, to expose love in people’s hearts. 

What if he didn’t want to? After all, he didn’t believe in love. It wasn’t for him, and there damn sure wasn’t a woman for him. Not in Holiday, not anywhere.

Chapter 2

How many skeins of yarn does a person need to collect before it became hoarding and not just there for a rainy day
?

Abigail Clarke shook her head at her own question and started to throw various colors and textures of yarn into a canvas bag. Instead of trekking to her new place with them in tow, she’d just donate them to the Holiday Women’s Society since they knitted more than she did anyway. Dear Lord, she was twenty-two and a closet knitter. Even though she’d been living like an adult since she was fourteen, she was still a baby compared to most of her friends.

And, she was still a closet knitter.

Okay, not so much in the closet since the whole town thought she
only
knitted, baked, and cleaned her little house. God forbid they imagine her with a life of her own where she got to at least have some semblance of fun.

So, what if they were partially correct?

Abby stuffed the last skein in the back and curled her lip. Partially? More like fully these days. This was supposed to be the time of her life, right? Then why did she have so much freaking yarn? Oh, yeah, because at the tender age of twenty-two, she was turning into a recluse. A leper. A freaking one woman pity-party of fun. Yay, freaking, yay, for her.

Thank God she was moving. She needed to put this town and their attitudes in the past. Yes, she was only twenty-two, but she’d been lucky in her schooling and had graduated early while taking college courses at the same time. She’d done it all too quickly so she could get on with her life, always feeling like she was older than her years.

By the time she was eighteen, she’d already finished most of her college courses and was ready to start working alongside other teachers so she could get her teaching certificate. So, by the time she reached twenty, she was ready to be a full time teacher. 

She knew it was stupid to leave after only two years of teaching to move, but if she didn’t do it now, she might not ever do it…

She needed a new life, one where people didn’t see her and automatically think “virgin school-teacher” or “brainiac.”

So what if they were right? That didn’t mean it was okay to put her in that little box and never let her out. How was she supposed to grow and find her own way if everyone knew
everything
about her and her history? Like how she’d never had a boyfriend. Okay, let’s be serious… she’d never even had a date.

Yep, Abby was epidemically dateless.

Why was she perpetuating the stereotype? A schoolteacher, a virgin, a closet-knitter… Oh, and she couldn’t forget the curves and her sweet tooth. She grinned as she popped a candy heart in her mouth. Its chalkiness melted on her tongue, and she smiled. At least Valentine’s Day gave her candy, even if she couldn’t get a date and bought it herself.

The town thought she was the cat-lady without the cats. 

Well, screw them.

They didn’t know she danced like a wanton when she wanted to or that she had every type of clit-stimulator known to man that didn’t penetrate because, for some reason, she wanted to keep her actual virginity intact.

No, they didn’t know that.

A blush spread over her, and she laughed. Yeah, she didn’t necessarily want them to know that last part, but it would at least be nice if they thought she
could
own those things. But, no, she was sure if the town ever found out, they’d have a collective heart attack. All of them. Just a mass collapse of the townsfolk as they learned little Abby liked it rough—or at least
wanted
it rough.

Abby smiled at that thought.

Okay, not the whole death thing, but all of them collectively passing out would be amusing. Maybe she should strut down Main Street in her dancing clothes…the jeans that hugged her rounded curves and the shirt that covered her stomach, but made her boobs look like a place to shelve things.

Yeah, that would scare the crap out of the town.

And, she’d still end up going home alone because there wasn’t anyone here for her. No one gave her another look past seeing her as a schoolteacher. Other than the Cooper brothers, no one
knew
her. And the Coopers thought of her like a sister.

Abby let out a sigh then ate another candy while she packed up another stack of romance novels to take with her.

She liked being their “sister.” The Coopers were better than any big brothers she could have had. They were nice, sexy, and took care of each other. They didn’t even pick on her like a real brother would, at least not beyond the normal teasing.

Well, at least Matt, Justin, Brayden, and Jackson did anyway.

Tyler, on the other hand…

Tears prickled her eyes, and she blinked them away, pissed off at herself beyond belief. Why the heck was she crying? Just because she’d loved the man since she was six, she didn’t have to fall into a weeping puddle at the thought of him.

God, how pathetic could she get? She loved—no, not somewhat liked or crushed on—a man who didn’t
see
her. He didn’t really ever acknowledge her existence. She was just…there. A fixture in his day-to-day life that she was sure didn’t mean anything.

And, she freaking loved him.

She wasn’t one of those teenagers who pined over their unrequited loves. No, she’d grown past that once she hit her twenties.

Yes, the irony of the short time frame in which she hadn’t acted like a doe-eyed Twi-hard for the sheriff of Holiday didn’t escape her. She didn’t think of him as a god or perfect. 

She snorted. 

No, there was no
way
the man could be classified as perfect. 

But she’d always had some form of hope that he’d
see
her. That he’d finally realize the woman he could spend the rest of his life with was standing right next him, immersed in his family, not because she stalked him, but because they loved her like she loved them. He’d realize the woman who could help him find his happiness was just one dance away.