My One and Only (Ardent Springs Book 3) (19 page)

The look of insecurity in Cooper’s eyes took Haleigh by surprise. Here was the guy who never got rattled. Who, by his own admission, preferred not to get too involved. Yet here he was, worried about her pompous, shallow ex-fiancé. She took the show of jealousy as a positive sign.

“Of all the things I’ve shared today, I never would have guessed that Marcus would cause the biggest issue.”

Cooper’s jaw twitched. “Still not an answer.”

“Okay, big guy. Let me be clear. Marcus and I are done. In fact, I’m not only done with him, but guys like him.”

“You mean doctors in general?” he asked. “Or young, up-and-coming plastic surgeons?”

“Whoa,” she said. “Where is this coming from?”

Ripping the napkin from his collar, Cooper said, “I guess I’m trying to find out if I’m your version of downgrading. Or maybe you’re back to rebelling and seeing me would be a great way to annoy your mom.”

Was there another conversation going on that she wasn’t privy to? Because nothing Cooper just said made any sense.

“By guys like him I meant jerks. Selfish, materialistic, pig-headed jerks who care more about their careers and social lives than about me. And guess what, Cooper? Those characteristics aren’t limited to doctors. In fact, I know a mechanic who’s doing an outstanding impersonation of a horse’s ass right now.”

The full boil on the other side of the table dropped to a simmer as Cooper said, “I can’t compete with a doctor.”

“Who said there was a competition?” She’d confessed to being an alcoholic who may have pushed a poor girl out a window and he latched onto a freaking occupation? “You’re a better person than Marcus will ever be. Hell, than he even wants to be. You’re definitely better than anything I deserve. If either of us should be reeling with insecurities, it’s me. I’m the one who’s screwed up, remember?”

“You aren’t screwed up.” Cooper tossed the napkin onto his plate. “You’ve got a few dings and dents, that’s all.”

Shaking her head, Haleigh said, “We’re going to have to discuss this habit of comparing women to cars.”

“You’d be surprised how much they have in common,” he said with a half grin. “Did we just have our first fight?”

Amazed by how quickly the man went from angry to charming, she said, “I think we did.”

Cooper chuckled. “That horse’s ass bit was good.”

“Well,” Haleigh nodded, “when the saddle fits.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made your point.” After waving for the check, he said, “Are you working Friday night?”

“I’m off at five thirty so long as no babies demand my attention, but I’m having dinner with my mother.” The food soured in her stomach at the thought. “It’s our first dinner since the night of my show-stopping performance at Brubaker’s.”

“Then it’ll be the perfect night for what I have in mind.”

His voice didn’t carry a naughty tone, but Haleigh’s brain still took the obvious route. “Am I going to like what you have in mind?”

Cooper waited until the waitress had dropped the check and walked off before answering. “You are.” The grin was both panty-melting and mysterious. “Make sure you bring a pair of socks.”

Pajamas she’d have understood. But socks? The guy wanted socks?

Sliding cash into the check folder, he said, “I can see that mind of yours churning a mile a minute.” Rising, he pulled her out of her chair and dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Just go with it.” Pulling back, he added, “You never got around to why you came to see me in the first place.”

The shelter. She’d forgotten all about it. “There’s no rush. We can talk about it Friday.”

“Are you sure?” Cooper asked as she walked in front of him to the door.

“I am. I have to get to work now anyway.”

He walked her to her car, opening the door when she unlocked it from her key chain, and proceeded to kiss her senseless, seemingly indifferent to the fact that they were standing in a public parking lot.

When they finally came up for air, Cooper slid the windblown hair out of her eyes and said, “I’ve waited a long time to be able to do that.”

Her brain only half working, she said, “A couple of weeks isn’t all that long.”

“No,” he agreed. “But a couple of decades is.”

Once again, she could not have heard him right. “Decades?” she said, swallowing hard.

Green eyes glowed down at her. Kind eyes. Patient eyes. She’d never known how patient.

“All this time—” she started, but Cooper pressed a hand over her mouth.

Echoing her words, he said, “We can talk about it Friday.” As if she were a small child, he put her in the car, kissed her cheek, and closed the door.

As she watched him walk away, Haleigh repeated, “All this time.”

Chapter 20

Cooper had believed that learning Haleigh’s history wouldn’t change how he felt. But he’d been wrong. After hearing the painful details of her past, he was more determined than ever to send her demons packing.

How to do that, he didn’t have a clue. But being clueless had never stopped him before. And though he recognized the inherent insult in the thought, he couldn’t deny the truth of it.

“Two weeks to go,” Spencer said. “Are you ready for the final report?”

Though there would be a Ruby Restoration meeting the night before the fundraiser, the final summary, including the projected profit, was on the agenda for this evening.

“I’m ready,” Cooper answered. “Buford has the handouts up front to pass out for review. By the time I get up there it’ll be a matter of pointing out the bottom line numbers and projections. Shouldn’t take long.”

He hoped the entire meeting wouldn’t take long. They were already getting a late start thanks to an untimely power outage at the restaurant earlier in the day. Though electricity had returned around five, the restaurant needed extra time for prep and didn’t open again for service until nearly eight.

As Spencer and Cooper took their seats, Stallings called the meeting to order. The usual proceedings rolled along—approving the minutes from the last meeting, the reading of the treasurer’s report, and the call for old business. Thankfully, no one wanted to rehash the car wash vs. movie night debate of the week before.

Harvey Brubaker, owner of the town grocery store and the dance hall that bore his name, had suggested a car wash fundraiser, which Jebediah rejected over water costs and possible flooding down Margin Street. Never mind that Margin Street had never flooded in the history of the town.

Jebediah had countered with a movie night, saying it made the most sense in relation to the theater and reminding folks why they were trying to save the building in the first place. Of course, the movie would run on weekend nights, cutting directly into Harvey’s business at the club.

After a loud discussion that threatened to escalate into a brawl, both topics were tabled for a later date. Cooper thanked his lucky stars that date was not tonight.

Once Spencer updated the committee on the architectural plans and the next phase of the physical restoration, which could only progress at the rate at which monies flowed into the coffers, Cooper was called to the front. He summarized the handout passed around at the start of the meeting, explaining that though all available slots were not yet filled, registrations continued to come in daily and they were confident the lot would sell out before the event.

“I have a question about the For Sale section,” Jebediah interrupted. Heaven forbid the man wait until questions had been invited. “According to this list, you have two of your own vehicles in that section.”

“That’s right,” Cooper said. “What about it?”

“As the organizer, should you really be profiting from this event?”

“I’ll only profit if the vehicles actually sell.” Pointing to Buford, he added, “The committee is reimbursing the hardware store for the materials used for signage. And the local food vendors get to keep the money they make. What’s the difference?”

“The difference is,” Jebediah drawled, as if speaking to a child, “neither Buford nor the food vendors are organizing the rally. Also, how do we know other potential attendees, ones who would spend their dollars at several other local businesses, aren’t being turned away because you’ve taken these spots?”

A hush fell over the room as Cooper struggled to check his temper. “As you’ll see if you look at the handout, there are still three open spots in the For Sale section, which means no one is being turned away.”

“That being said, don’t you think it’s a conflict of interest for you to cross the line from organizer to participant?” Winkle pressed.

Reaching his breaking point, Cooper said, “No, Mayor, I don’t think it’s a conflict of interest. Does anyone else?”

Twenty-three sets of eyes darted from face to face. If anyone agreed with the mayor, they kept their thoughts to themselves.

“I think that settles the issue.” Buford smacked his gavel on the podium. “Thank you, Cooper, that should do it.” Turning to the gathering, he asked, “Does anyone else have new business to discuss?” Not a hand went up. “Then this meeting is adjourned.” Another smack of the gavel and the sound of scraping chairs filled the air.

“That was one hell of a comeback,” Caleb said.

Lorelei hugged Cooper’s arm. “I’d pay money for a picture of his face when no one backed him up.”

Cooper shrugged, adrenaline still pumping. “He’ll do anything to push back on this project.” Glancing over his shoulder to see the mayor beat a hasty retreat, he added, “Winkle will get his comeuppance eventually. I just hope I’m there to see it.” Cooper checked his watch. If he was going to reach Abby’s house by nine, he needed to leave now. “I’ll see y’all later.”

“What?” Spencer asked. “You aren’t coming to Brubaker’s?”

“Nah,” Cooper answered with a grin. “I’ve got a date.”

Lorelei tucked her arm through Spencer’s. “And who’s the lucky girl?” she asked, knowing full well he meant Haleigh Rae.

“Just the prettiest girl in town,” he said over his shoulder, laughing at the protests that echoed behind him.

In a ridiculous effort to start the night off on a positive note, Haleigh had made sure to change out of her scrubs, putting on a dress no less, and picked up an apple pie, her mother’s favorite, on the way over. Instead of walking in as usual, she rang the doorbell and waited on the porch for her mother to answer. Allowing her mother to fulfill the hostess role, therefore being firmly in charge and somewhat bowed to, was sure to play in Haleigh’s favor.

Or so she’d thought.

“Why did you ring the bell?” her mother said upon opening the door. No hello. No what do you have there? “I was finishing my makeup and you made me stop to open a door for which you have a key.”

Strike one.

“I was showing respect that this is your home and not mine anymore,” Haleigh answered in the most diplomatic and nonconfrontational tone she could manage. “I brought you a pie.” She thrust the dessert forward after stepping into the foyer.

Ignoring the offering, her mother said, “Haleigh Rae, you grew up in this house. It will always be your home, and I’d prefer you not force me to open the door like some hired housekeeper.”

Keeping her smile firmly in place, Haleigh thrust the treat forward again. “It’s an apple pie.”

“It’s hard enough to keep my figure at this age without you bringing me pies.”

Strike two.

“I can take home whatever we don’t eat.”

Taking the offering from her hands, she said, “If you planned to take it home, why did you bring it at all?”

And strike three. This had to be some kind of record.

The only thing that kept Haleigh from making an immediate exit was the knowledge that once this visit to hell ended, she’d spend the rest of the evening with Cooper. The man who now knew all of her grisly details and wanted her anyway. If that wasn’t a bona fide miracle, Haleigh didn’t know what was.

Not that she planned to tell her mother about this miracle. Then there would be judgment and insults and snobbery of epic proportions. None of which Haleigh wanted to deal with tonight.

She did, however, plan to share her other endeavor.

Once her mother had settled into her second glass of wine—she’d never felt the need to refrain while her daughter was around—Haleigh said, “I’ve been asked to take the lead on a new project just underway.”

“Really?” her mother said with mild interest as she sliced her chicken cordon bleu courtesy of Lancelot’s Restaurant. “Will it mean a promotion at the hospital?”

Slicing her own chicken, Haleigh replied, “This project isn’t connected to the hospital.”

Pausing mid-bite, her mom said, “I hope it won’t interfere with your duties, or force you to cut back your hours.”

Fewer hours would mean less pay, which would take money out of Meredith’s pocket. So much for appealing to her mother’s altruistic side.

“I don’t plan to cut any hours at the hospital,” she explained, not sure how she could work sixty-five hours a week once the shelter opened for operation, but that was months away, or more likely a year or more. “We’re barely in the planning stages, but I’m excited about our prospects.”

“You’re being needlessly mysterious. Spit it out already.”

Keeping her eyes on her plate, Haleigh said, “We’re working to open a women’s shelter.”

As Haleigh shoved her green beans around her plate, her dinner partner held silent. Chancing a quick glance, she saw her mother staring while chewing intently, both her food and her daughter’s announcement.

“Do you mean a place for homeless women?”

“Our purpose is to provide a safe place for women in harmful or dangerous situations.”

“You mean women with abusive husbands?”

Haleigh nodded. “Exactly.”

Her mother’s next response served up the shock of the century. “This area could use a facility like that.” As if she couldn’t bear the taste of positivity on her tongue, she added, “So long as it doesn’t steal focus from your career.”

Feeling as if she’d received a blessing from the pope, Haleigh said, “Yes, ma’am,” and proceeded to stuff three green beans in her mouth. If finally winning her mother’s approval required giving up sleep, she considered it a small price to pay.

“You look happier than I expected,” Cooper said after Haleigh offered a rather friendly greeting at the door. “Did the dinner with your mom go better than usual?”

“Way better,” she said before waving a pair of socks in front of his nose. “Now why do I need these?”

“All will be revealed in due time,” he replied, braving a look toward the living room. “Is Abby here?”

“She’s working a twelve-hour shift until six in the morning. I’d have met you at the car otherwise.”

He shook his head. “We aren’t going to sneak around to appease my sister.”

“No,” Haleigh agreed, “but there’s no need to stir the pot, either.” Stepping back to the entrance to the living room, she said, “Jessi, we’re heading out. Do you need anything?”

“I’m good,” the teen said, never taking her eyes off the television as she kept Emma’s bouncy chair moving with her foot. “See ya, Cooper.”

“Bye, Jessi,” he replied. On their way to the car, he said, “She seems content for a teenager spending a Friday night alone.”

“Ah, but she won’t be alone.”

“I know she has Emma, but she isn’t much of a talker.”

Haleigh flashed a knowing smile. “I mean she’ll have Ian. He should be here any minute, but I think he wanted to avoid running into you.”

“Ian is coming here?” Cooper wasn’t sure how he felt about this. “Does Abby know she’s having a guy over?”

“No idea.” Haleigh climbed into the passenger seat and reached over to lock her buckle.

Cooper considered the situation as he crossed to his side. The intention had been to let Jessi recover, and then send her back where she’d come from or on to her father. Another week had passed with no developments on the J.T. hunt. They were going to have to make a decision about what to do next, as Jessi couldn’t live with Abby forever.

Whatever was decided, a budding relationship with Ian added one more layer to an already complicated problem.

“I’m not sure I like this,” he said as his buckle clicked into place.

“Like what?”

“That,” he said, nodding toward the house. “Jessi and Ian becoming an item.”

“You sound like an overprotective father,” she said with a husky laugh. “They aren’t children. I think it’s cute that she’s found someone.”

“Hal, we’re going to have to tell her that this J.T. person doesn’t exist. At that point, the girl needs to find an alternative to living with Abby, and Ian can’t be that alternative.”

“Why not?” she asked. “He’s twenty-one. He has a good job and comes from a good family. Jessi is a good mom and determined to do her part to support herself and her little girl. I think they could have a shot.”

She made it sound so simple. “They barely know each other. Ian can hardly take care of himself let alone a girl and her baby.”