Chapter Ten
The bride was beautiful and the groom handsome as the late afternoon sun touched the guests gathered for cocktails just inside the old antebellum mansion. The wedding had taken place a few hours earlier, photos had been taken, and now it was time to celebrate.
The bridesmaids’ dresses were sheer perfection—old rose in a classic and simple strapless design that flattered the four women who wore them—and the flowers were gorgeous, white and pink peonies. The groomsmen were rakish in coattails, the guests distinguished, with a healthy balance between celebrities, politicians and people like Abby—plain old folk.
Music played softly while waiters worked the room, laden with trays of succulent scallops, mouth-watering mushrooms or crab and avocado canapés, and jumbo shrimp cocktails. There was a slight breeze that was perfect, just enough to cool Abby’s hot skin and that was a welcome relief.
God, it felt as if her cheeks had been burning since she’d woken up this morning to sunshine, the smell of fresh coffee and the memory of a kiss that had rocked her to the core.
Tucker had already been up, showered and ready to head out when she’d stumbled out of bed. For a moment, the two of them had stared at each other and she knew exactly what he was thinking.
Wasn’t hard. The slow, sensual smile that crept over his face had left her knees weak and her stomach in knots. Last night had been a game changer, but in the bright light of the morning after, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for anything to change. Or rather, Abby wasn’t so sure she would survive it.
God, how had she gotten herself in this mess? Jesus. She knew better than to drink wine. It always loosened her tongue and opened up that box full of inhibitions she kept hidden away.
A moment had passed. Then another.
And then she’d mumbled something unintelligible before hightailing it to the bathroom like a scared kid.
“Crap,” she muttered, touching her flushed face as she ducked behind a large palm tree near the large foyer. Leaning against the cool wall, she closed her eyes in an effort to calm her nerves.
You’ll just have to kiss me again to find out.
“I can’t believe I said that,” she groaned, biting her lip.
“What would, that, be?”
Her eyes shot open and her vision filled with six foot two inches of blond male beauty. Cooper Simon smiled, head cocked to the side as he loosened his tie and undid his top button.
Sweet Jesus, the guy was easy on the eyes and did he ever know it. He’d flirted with her outrageously the night before and though Abby genuinely liked him—it was hard not too—she wasn’t in the mood to play his game right now.
“It’s nothing,” she said straightening her dress—a dress that Betty Jo Barker had nothing to do with, so her breasts weren’t falling out the top, and the naked factor was minimal.
The high-neck top was a deep green satin that left her arms bare, while the soft fabric that fell from an empire waist stopped just above her knee. With her dark hair, the color choice was flattering, but, more importantly, everything was covered up.
Even more important was the fact that she was wearing underwear. Jesus, she would have pulled on a pair of granny-pants if she had any with her.
Cooper took a sip from his tumbler, amber liquid glittering as sunlight hit the glass.
“Nothing,” he repeated, his voice like water over silk.
She shrugged, but didn’t respond. She was still navigating her way through the Simon family and, contrary to what Tucker had told her, she thought that his cousin Cooper was a whole lot more complicated than he’d indicated. There were layers to this guy, layers that she wasn’t sure his family knew about.
“So what’s the story with you and Tucker anyway?” Cooper asked.
“There is no story. We’re friends.”
Friends who kiss.
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care.”
Cooper laughed and raised his glass. “I see why he likes you.”
A waiter passed by and Cooper grabbed a crystal flute. He handed it to Abby without asking if she wanted a drink. For a moment, there was that voice in the back of her head, the one that said, pace yourself, girl. You’re beer and wings not champagne and pastries.
At her raised eyebrow, he grinned. “You look like you need it.”
“You don’t know me well enough to know what I need.”
“I know more than you think,” he replied. “Trust me, you need a drink.”
“What is it with you?” She grumbled and eyed Cooper closely.
“You tell me.” Cooper leaned closer.
Abby took a sip of champagne and rolled her shoulders slightly. She considered Cooper for a few moments, her irritation growing at about the same rate as his smile.
“You do know that my family owns a bar in New York City, right?” she asked.
“Yep.” His smile widened even more. “Yes indeed, I believe that came up last night when you instructed the bartender on how to make the perfect martini.”
Her cheeks heated. God. She’d been a little full of herself.
“Well there is a wrong way and there is the Mathews way. I’ll give you two guesses as to which one is better.”
Cooper held his glass aloft in mock salute. “I believe you.”
Abby took another sip from her glass, relaxing a bit. “The thing is Cooper, working in a bar, being around people all the time, it gives a girl a certain perspective.”
“I’m all ears,” he said softly.
“I know people. I know how to read them. I know when they’re hiding something, and I know when they’re trying to be someone that they’re not.”
His eyes narrowed a bit, but the smile never left his face.
“You my friend,” she said lightly, “are not what you seem.”
“Really?”
“Really” she repeated.
“And what exactly am I?”
Abby took another gulp of champagne, liking the diversion.
“You’re a callous man-whore who only sleeps with women who are technically unavailable. Women who are married or attached.”
“Is that what Tucker told you?”
“He might have mentioned it. He might have warned me about you.”
“Maybe you should listen to him.” Cooper was no longer smiling.
“Why would I?” Abby asked. “He’s got you all wrong.”
Cooper stared at her for so long that Abby shifted her feet, uncomfortable and wondering if she’d gone too far. After all, she’d only met Cooper the day before.
“And what is it that you think he’s got wrong?” Cooper asked.
Abby considered shutting the conversation down right then and there, but Cooper had started it. And since she preferred to focus on something other than her sorry situation, she decided to let it all out.
“Honestly, Tucker’s got a lot right. You are a callous man-whore who only sleeps with married women, or women who are technically not available.”
“So what’s he got wrong?” Cooper asked casually, but she saw how his fingers gripped the tumbler so tight that his knuckles were white.
“It’s not the what…it’s the why, and Tucker doesn’t know it.”
“And you do,” Cooper said, his voice a little stronger as he squared his shoulders and stared down at her.
Something flashed in the depths of his eyes, and Abby zeroed in on it like a bear after honey.
“Someone hurt you. Badly, I’d say.” She shrugged. “And because of that, you’ve closed yourself off from the possibility of ever having a healthy relationship again. You don’t want to get close to anyone, let alone a woman. So you sleep with the ones who can never belong to you. The ones that are already taken. You sleep with them because you think that keeps you safe.”
He didn’t say anything so she continued.
“I’ll bet you’ve slept with several friends’ girlfriends and when they get too clingy, you pull out the ‘he’s my buddy, this will never work,’ card and move on to the next.”
She thought of a comment flung toward Cooper from his brother Rick, one that was off the cuff and not meant for her ears.
“I bet you’ve even slept with one of your brother’s girlfriends.”
“Two actually,” Cooper answered without missing a beat.
Wow. Abby shouldn’t have been shocked but she was.
“And I bet you told yourself you were doing your brother a favor when you did it. Maybe you thought that if they were willing to sleep with you, then Rick was better off without them.”
“No.” Cooper shook his head slowly. “I slept with them because I wanted to.”
“I call bullshit. Just like everything else, you bullshit your way through it all. You hide behind your pain because you’re a coward. Because you’re afraid to put yourself out there. And unfortunately, you end up hurting people that you care about like your brother.”
“I think you missed your calling,” he shot back. “You should be charging by the hour.”
“The sad thing is that you’re hurting yourself the most. Whoever that woman was…whatever she did to you, it’s not right to use that as an excuse to be an a*shole just because it’s easier for you to live that way. You’re so much better than that.”
And he was. She’d seen it last night. The way he’d been so sweet to his Aunt Virginia, taking her for a turn on the dance floor, more than once. The way he’d made his sister smile and his mother giggle like a teenager. Cooper Simon could make some woman ecstatically happy if he would just let himself fall in love again.
For a moment there were no more words. They each sipped their drinks and Cooper leaned along the wall beside her.
“You’re good.”
“I’m sorry,” she answered simply.
“But since we’re being so honest and all, I gotta say Abby, you’re no better than I am. You’re hiding, too.”
Surprised, she pushed off from the wall. “Excuse me?”
His glass was empty, and he studied it, swishing around the ice cubes so that they clinked against the side of the glass. He leaned close to her, his mouth near her ear and she held her breath as he whispered.
“You’re in love with my cousin and too afraid to do anything about it. You’re nothing but a big old chicken and if you don’t mind my saying, pretty damn hypocritical to lecture me when you’re carrying around that secret.”
Abby blinked.
She cleared her throat.
Goosebumps spread across her skin and cold sweat gave her the shivers as Cooper shoved away from her. “So how close am I?”
She didn’t answer him because she couldn’t. So she said nothing.
“If I came into your bar, if I ordered the perfect martini from you,” He paused, a dark grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes in place. “No, hold on. What if I had several perfect martinis?” He tipped his chin up. “Enough so that I spilled my shit and told you that I was in love with someone, but was too afraid of rejection to do anything about it. What advice would you give me?”
“I’m not paid to hand out advice,” she managed to say.
“Now who’s full of shit? What advice would you give me, Abby?”
He wasn’t going to let this go. She thought of Tucker. Of the kiss they’d shared the night before and the promise that would never bloom.
“I would say that if you didn’t at least try, you would never know.”
“Never know what?”
Abby licked her dry lips and exhaled. “You would never know if there was a chance for the two of you.”
“So maybe you should listen to your own advice. Maybe my cousin needs a kick in the ass so that he stops living in the past.”
How in hell had Cooper Simon managed to turn the entire conversation around to Abby and Tucker?
“He needs you, Abby, and he probably doesn’t even know it yet but,” Cooper glanced behind them, a calculated look in his eyes. “Judging by the pissed off expression on his face right now…” Cooper’s hand caressed her cheek. “I’m thinking he’s gonna realize that sooner or later.”