Leo was exactly where Emma had wheeled him a half hour ago—in his chair, his head propped up by two pads on either side of the headrest, his fingers unnaturally curled around a stick that Leo insisted kept them from closing up completely.
And there was Cooper Jessup, leaning up against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, long and lean and handsome. But it wasn’t that which held Emma’s interest. It had been Emma’s observation that when people first met Leo, they often looked purposely blank so as not to let on to all the thoughts swirling in their heads, such as, thank God, not me, and what is wrong with him, and what do I say. They tried very hard not to stare at Leo and his useless appendages and the apparatus that was necessary to keep him upright.
But Cooper was looking directly at Leo like he was another buddy he’d run into. Maybe he’d been shocked when he’d first walked in, but now he looked completely relaxed, as if he chatted with guys like Leo all the time. He also looked like a sexy motorcycle bandit with his jacket and boots and the shadow of a beard on his chin. As if he had a history as long as the road and the moves to prove it, and Emma felt that funny tingle slip down her spine.
Don’t do that, Emma. Don’t look at him like that.
“I had a buddy from high school do the flames,” Leo was explaining, always happy to talk about the van. “It’s sick, right?”
“Yep,” Cooper said. “I’ve never seen a van as cool as that.”
“I got it to take me to a Broncos game,” Leo said. If he could stand, he’d be hitching up his pants and puffing out his chest right now. “Going to see them play the Patriots. Got skybox seats lined up for me and my pal Dante.”
Cooper’s face lit up. “Dude, that’s awesome,” he said. “My money is on one of those two teams to win the Super Bowl.”
“Broncos, right?” Leo said excitedly.
“Maybe. But the Patriots are looking as strong as ever.”
“Do you know how hard it is to get tickets like this?”
“I can’t imagine.”
“It takes a genius. Here’s how I did it—”
“Excuse me,” Emma said before Leo could launch into his ever-expanding story of how he’d managed to obtain tickets and a van to a football game.
“Wha—what?” Leo stammered, unable to turn his head.
“He came to see me, Leo.”
“Hey, are you trying to stop me from talking about the game again?” Leo protested. “It’s such a great story! Okay, well, maybe it’s time you told a story, Emma. What’d you do that brings Cooper Jessup here all the way from Los Angeles?”
“Why is there an automatic assumption that I did anything?” Emma complained as she moved between Leo and Cooper, frowning down at Leo.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, baby doll, but generally speaking, men don’t come halfway across the country unless there’s a love thing going on. Or to catch a fugitive. I mean do you ever watch Dateline? I know you don’t have a love thing going on since you’re totally into me, so the only other logical conclusion is that you’re on the lam. Am I wrong?”
“You’re so wrong you’re embarrassing yourself,” Emma said flatly.
“Then who is he?” Leo asked.
“Just a guy,” Emma said, and whirled around, intending to keep Cooper from moving any deeper into the house or conversation.
But Cooper was one step ahead of her and had moved around her. “First of all, I’m not just a guy, I’m a man.” He looked directly at Emma when he said it, and the emphatic way he said man radiated down her spine and made her knees begin to quiver. “Yes, I did come with the intention of speaking to you.” He shifted his gaze back to Leo. “But not to apprehend her. I’m not a bounty hunter or a cop. But I do need to speak to her, if that’s okay.”
“Man, that would be supercool if you were a bounty hunter, bro,” Leo said.
“But he’s not, and he already spoke to me.” To Cooper, Emma said, “This is where I work. So . . .” She gestured firmly to the door.
“Hey, what’s this?” Leo exclaimed. “Is it possible that I could have been mistaken? I mean, the odds are totally against it, but this has all the markings of a lovers’ quarrel.”
“No,” Cooper said in a manner that Emma found unsettlingly quick and firm.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Leo said. “Emma and I aren’t together—”
“Leo, shut up!” Bob shouted from the kitchen where, apparently, he was managing to keep up with the conversation.
“Can’t, Dad!” Leo said cheerfully. “My mouth is the only muscle that works, and if I don’t use it, I lose it. Pardon, Mr. Jessup—you were about to tell me about this love affair?”
“I’m about to stuff a sock in that mouth!” Bob yelled.
“Ignore him,” Leo said. “He has a tendency to feel left out.”
Cooper smiled. “I wish I had something interesting to tell you, Leo. I’m also in town to do some work.” He gave Emma a self-satisfied smile that only made her feel wobblier.
“What do you mean, work? What work?” she demanded.
The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)
Julia London's books
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