“It’s going to rain all day,” Baxter predicted. “Long as there’s no lightning, it won’t interrupt my day.”
“Wetsuits,” Daron said, taking the seat on the other side of her, “are impervious to rain. But you and I—” he gestured at Phoenix and himself “—won’t be able to get anything done.”
Hunks as bookends. Not that long ago, she would have been crawling out of her skin, but now—although a little uncomfortable—she accepted the situation as harmless.
She was congratulating herself for that small coup when Maris slid a cup of coffee in front of her, already doctored with creamer and sugar. “Thank you.” Phoenix couldn’t imagine a better way to toast her continued improvement than with fresh, strong coffee.
Sounding glum, Maris said, “Odds are it’ll be a thunderstorm that shuts down everything.”
“I don’t mind storms.” In fact, she usually liked them. For Phoenix, they helped to insulate her in her own little world, away from memories that could still cut deep.
“Storms mean you can’t work,” Maris explained. “But it also means everyone in the park is going to try crowding in here or the rec center for indoor entertainment.”
“If I’m not working, I could come by and help you.”
Maris gave a look to Daron and Baxter. “Notice neither of them made that offer.”
Daron leaned over the counter. “You want me to keep you company, Maris?” His eyebrows bobbed. “Be happy to oblige.”
Baxter shook his head. “She’s turned you down...what? A dozen times? Give it a rest already.”
“When I can sense victory? No way!”
With a slight flush to her skin, Maris rolled her eyes, then concentrated on Phoenix. “I just took some scones out of the oven. Cranberry orange. Want one?”
“Oh, that sounds delicious.”
Baxter scowled past Phoenix at Daron. “I’m blaming you for us not getting scones.”
“Me? What’d I do?”
“What haven’t you done?” Maris asked.
He grinned. “Not much.”
“You brag like a high school boy,” she accused.
“Any high school boy who’s been with you probably had reason to brag.”
Maris fried him with a look. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Yeah...” Sheepish, he rubbed the back of his neck. “That didn’t come out quite right. I didn’t mean bragging rights because they scored.”
Maris’s expression darkened further.
“I meant because you’re a catch. You know, if you gave them any attention, it was reason to brag.”
This time Maris rolled her eyes. “If you have to explain it—”
“Should’ve kept my mouth shut, I know.”
Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh. Serious come-ons, even when not directed at her, could still make her fidgety, but ridiculous teasing only amused her, and Daron was all about the ridiculous.
Maris didn’t appear to have the same reaction as she set the plate on the bar counter. “I suppose there’s enough to go around.”
“You see?” Daron said as he reached for a flaky scone. “Deep down, she adores me.”
Right before his fingers touched the plate, Maris snatched it out of his reach. She put two on a napkin in front of Phoenix, and two in front of Baxter. With her nose in the air, she headed into the kitchen.
Undaunted, Daron turned puppy dog eyes on Phoenix.
Grinning, she took one and scooted the napkin with the other over to him. “You’re shameful.” Using the excuse of following Maris, she slipped out from between the two men.
The phone in her pocket buzzed with a message.
Knowing it would be Ridley, she withdrew it and saw, Good morning, doll across the screen.
Smiling, she texted back, Good morning. Storms here. You?
Sunny skies. As usual, Ridley added, I miss you.
And as usual, Phoenix replied, I miss you, too. I’ll visit soon.
You keep saying that.
Yes, she did, but she wasn’t yet ready. She wanted to be herself when she saw Ridley again. She needed to prove that she was strong enough to reclaim her life.
Soon, she promised herself. Very soon.
Rather than explain all that to Ridley, which would have her big sister sweeping in for a rescue, she quickly texted, I’m at work. Gotta go.
Love you, Phoenix.
Her heart swelled. Love you, too.
Caught by the wind, the door slammed opened again and Cooper stepped in. More powerful than the storm, he commanded attention in his calm, take-charge way.
The rain had darkened his sandy-brown hair, leaving it stuck in thick hanks to his forehead and neck. His wet T-shirt clung to his wide chest and shoulders. None of that seemed to bother him.
She’d thought Baxter was devastating, but now that Cooper joined them, the room felt smaller and far steamier. He had that type of presence about him, whether he intended to or not.
When it came to her reactions, no man could make her more physically aware than Cooper Cochran.
3
Phoenix drank in the sight of him. How a man could look so appealing, even when drenched, she didn’t know. She was a frazzled mess, her damp clothes drooping, and he only looked sexier because of the rain.
She thought of his invitation to swim privately, and the idea teased her. He’d made a point of letting her know that he appreciated her curves, which seemed odd since his wife had appeared to be very slim, yet she didn’t doubt his sincerity. She’d seen the admiration in his eyes and heard it in his deep voice.
She’d never obsessed much about her body. She’d “blossomed” early in life, which meant she’d gotten jibes, and then a ton of interest, from boys and later men. Her weight fluctuated depending on her life, so there were times when she was slimmer, and times when—like now—she’d put on pounds.
Of course, living in a hotel room while binge-eating takeout for an extended time explained her current weight gain. For too many nights she’d shut out the real world, even her family, and soothed her fears with food. She’d always been an outdoorsy person, but after the attack...instead of taking her comfort in sunshine and hard work, she’d consumed milkshakes, pizzas and loaded burgers with fries while watching whatever movie played on the television. Overall, she had amazing physical health with no medical issues, so if the scales fluctuated, she didn’t care.
She also didn’t expect to draw male appreciation. But she had—from Cooper.
His interest hit her on two levels, spiking her own sexual response, which hadn’t happened since before the attack, but it also struck an emotional chord because she knew he’d loved his wife, and yet he’d lost her.
How very difficult that must have been for a man like Cooper. Anyone could see he was a natural leader, and that went hand in hand with being protective.
She’d like to know how he’d lost his wife, but she also didn’t want to overstep.
With him now in the camp store, a heated mix of subdued wariness and unfamiliar exhilaration shimmered together through her blood. He brought with him the scent of the rain and the energy of the storm, making the other two men fade from her awareness.
Under one arm, Cooper carried a rolled, rubber-backed rug. Before fully entering, he spread it out on the floor and then used it to wipe his feet.
When he looked up and saw Phoenix, his entire demeanor changed, or so it seemed to her.
But maybe she was the only one getting flustered.
Maris emerged from the kitchen with a large towel. “Thanks, Coop.” She tossed the towel to him. “We already had two slips, Daron in a full wipeout, and Phoenix in a near miss. Luckily, Baxter caught her.”
For some reason, a blush stung her face. No one seemed to notice—except Cooper.
As he ran the towel over the back of his head and neck, his eyes never left her. “You’re not hurt?”
She shook her head. “No, not at all. But the rug’s a good idea.”
“It’s usually there,” Maris said, “but right before I closed last night a camper brought in his dog—and he peed on it.”