“Dad’s improved more in the time you’ve been here than he did in all the weeks before you’d arrived.”
Cooper shrugged. “I wouldn’t put too much into it. He’s got a lot of good people in and out of here all the time, helping him.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Millie told me that at first, things between you and Dad were plenty tense, but then something changed. What happened?”
They’d moved into the entry hall and Peg sat on the third stair.
“Guess it’s hard to pinpoint. One night, I think he came to the realization that I wasn’t going anywhere, and meant him no harm. I apologized for Mom—at least, as best as I could.” He bowed his head. “But we both know, no mere apology is ever going to make that right.”
She rose to place a comforting hand on his arm. “Just so happens, I’ve had a few years to ponder the issue, and as simplistic as this might sound, I think that apology of yours wasn’t even necessary. It was implied, you know? Of course you were sorry for what happened. We all were—are. But when it came down to it, Dad wanted you here to use as a verbal punching bag, and now he wants you back as his son—to try to put the pieces back together.”
Cooper pulled away from her to peer out one of the front door sidelights. “But I’m not back. I’m not even capable of being the son he wants me to be.”
“How do you know you’re not already? Have you seen the scrapbook he keeps of you? The Navy sent announcements for every step of your journey. He might not have come right out and said it, but he’s proud of you, Coop. So am I. Everything’s gonna be all right. You’ll see.”
He happened to look up.
Millie stood at the top of the stairs. She wore a tight-bodiced, flare-skirted red dress with red cowboy boots. She’d left her hair down—long and wavy. Just the sort of style he’d like to run his hands through while kissing her thoroughly out behind the barn. She looked beautiful. The perfect Valentine jewel. Only the joke was on him, because she wasn’t his—would never be his. Even if she wasn’t his sister-in-law, she deserved the kind of sage, family man who’d stick around. Someone like Jim—a saint of the sort Cooper would never be.
His sister must’ve caught him ogling, as she followed his gaze. “Oh, Millie... You look gorgeous!”
“You think?” Millie asked with a twirl. “Are the boots too much?”
“It’s Valentine’s Day. Anything goes as long as it’s red or pink.”
“Oh—well, in that case, maybe I should add a feather boa?” Millie’s laugh did funny things to Cooper’s stomach. He didn’t want Stacie to show up. He wanted to take Millie and her red dress and boots out for a nice steak dinner, then maybe go for a few slow turns with her around a dance floor. She peered down at him and frowned. “Cooper, you haven’t even had a shower? Your date’s going to be here in ten minutes.”
“For the last time,” Cooper said, “she’s
not
my date.”
Hands on her hips, she gave him a cocked-head sigh. “Whatever you’re calling her, Stacie’s arriving in ten minutes. We’re meeting Lynette and Zane twenty minutes after that.”
“Yes, sir, Master Chief.” Mounting the steps, he saluted her on his way past, wishing she’d skipped the pretty floral perfume that made him crave doing more with her than dancing.
*
“C
OULD
SHE
BE
any more obvious?” Millie wasn’t normally the judgmental type, but the way Stacie had the audacity to squeeze Cooper’s buns while they were two-stepping made her want to hurl.
“Who?” Lynette was too busy ferreting M&Ms out of the snack mix in a bowl on the table to be bothered with looking up.
“Who do you think? Stacie’s done nothing but grope Cooper ever since she showed up at the front door. And don’t even get me started on her cleavage. J.J. had a friend over, and I felt like locking the two boys in J.J.’s room until
Boobs on Parade
left the house.”
Lynette laughed hard enough to choke on her beer, which resulted in much coughing and a trek to the crowded restroom. By the time they got back to the table, Mack’s new girlfriend, Wilma, had cleared the dance floor and given the homegrown country band a break.
Wilma wore a red gingham square-dancing dress, and her platinum hair was tall enough that Millie guessed she prescribed to the old adage:
the higher a
woman wore her hair, the closer she was to the Lord.
“How y’all doin’?” Wilma had hijacked Mack’s party, and sashayed up the two steps leading to the stage as though she owned the place. She took the microphone. “Havin’ fun?”
“Yeah!”
the crowd cried in a chorus of raised beers and some hard stuff.
Millie clamped her lips shut.
Stacie had Cooper pinned alongside the jukebox and put on a show of laughing at every little thing he said. Personally, Millie had never found the man to be funny or a particularly scintillating conversationalist.
Liar...
Lynnette set down her third beer and said, “Stare any harder, and you’ll set the poor girl on fire.”
“What’re you talking about?”
Zane returned with a metal bucket filled with more brews. “There’s quite a line at the bar. But never fear, ladies, your prince has returned. Drink up.”
“Quit hamming and kiss me!” Lynette had had just enough to drink that she was apparently feeling frisky.
Millie still nursed her first longneck bottle. She wanted her wits about her to keep tabs on Stacie.
While Wilma rambled on about the upcoming couples-only dance, Millie glanced wistfully at her best friend, currently engaged in a sweet-spirited make-out session that made her jealous clear to her toes. Even in the center of the big crowd, loneliness consumed her. Since Jim’s passing, who had she become? She was still a mom and a daughter-in-law, but no longer fully a woman—not in the way that mattered on this night dedicated to romance.
“Now that y’all know the rules,” Wilma prattled on, “I want
only
couples out on this dance floor. Midway through the song, my fiancé...” The crowd took a minute to soak in the fact that Wilma wagged her diamond-clad ring finger for all to see.
A cheer broke out, then plenty of congratulations to Mack and his bride-to-be. At least the fact that she seemed to have assumed hostess duties of what was supposed to have been Mack’s party now made sense.
Millie couldn’t have felt lower than a mouse in a snake’s belly. Making matters worse was Stacie, pushing Cooper onto the dance floor already crowded with couples. Apparently, he’d had just enough to drink to go along with her request.
“Thank you, thank you,” Wilma gushed, “but let’s get some other couples in the mood for love. Now, whoever Mack picks as most romantic couple on the dance floor is gonna win a free bucket of beer! Any questions?”
Chet Myers shouted from the bar, “Why can’t us single guys win beer?”
Wilma dismissed Chet’s comment. “Seriously, folks, we’ve got great games coming up for any singles who wanna find romance, but for now, this dance is for our couples. Remember, let’s keep it clean, but most important, get romantic for Valentine’s Day!”
The rowdy crowd erupted in a round of wolf whistles and cheers.
“Here we go...” Wilma signaled the band to start playing, and couples twirled round and round.
Stacie and Cooper stood close enough that a piece of straw wouldn’t have fit between them.
Millie swigged her beer.
The two of them were disgusting. And cheaters! How did they technically qualify as a couple when this was their first date?
The crowd went wild when Mack hammed it up, gesturing for the crowd to choose which couples were their favorites.
Of course, Stacie and Cooper drew a big round of applause.
Millie’s cheeks felt hot enough to be catsup-red.
Could Stacie be any more obvious? What the woman did with her hips was obscene!
The band started in with a nice and slow country love song.
Wilma shouted, “Think we have some lovers in this bunch?”
More drunken hollers raised the roof.
As much as Millie was tempted to run home to hide under her covers, all it took to convince her to stay was one look at Stacie with her hands in Cooper’s hair and him not looking like he minded. Well, she’d show him a thing or two about flirting!
She pasted on her brightest smile before grabbing Buck Evans by his right arm. They’d gone to school together, and he used to be married, but his wife left him to launch her Vegas dancing career. Word had it she was a stripper, but Buck referred to her as a showgirl. “Wanna dance?”
“Ah, sure. I guess.”
“Great. Come on.” She couldn’t get out on that dance floor fast enough. Two could play this game.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” Buck said.
“That’s okay,” she assured him.
“Looks like we have a late entry!” Wilma shouted from the bandstand. “What do you think, y’all? Do they make a good-looking couple?”
Cheers erupted.
After a few more minutes of twirling, the music stopped, and along with it, Millie’s heart.
Cooper stood right next to her, looking so stupid-handsome she could cry. What was it about him that made it impossible for her to even think of any other men? She didn’t want him, but she sure didn’t want Stacie fawning all over him, either.
Mack joined his fiancée on stage.
“Mack, hon,” Wilma said, “who do you think deserves our first free bucket of Valentine’s Day beer?”
Above her pounding pulse, Millie heard expected wolf whistles and few off-color comments.
What she didn’t expect was to feel physically ill when Mack pointed at Stacie and Cooper then said, “Sorry to the rest of you folks, but those two look like they have what it takes to go the distance. Good luck to our happy couple!”
“Sorry we didn’t win,” Buck said. “If you want, I’ll buy you a beer.”
“That’s okay.” She delivered a warm pat to his arm. She shouldn’t have used him like that. It was childish and beneath her. “You go on and have fun.”
“You, too, Millie.” He tipped his cowboy hat. Now, see? Why couldn’t she be attracted to a nice, courteous guy like Buck? Why was her taboo brother-in-law the only man since Jim who’d made her heart beat faster?
While accepting their prize, along with a whole lot of smooching, the couple was gifted with cheap plastic crowns proclaiming them Romance King and Queen. When Stacie got a little too excited, dropping her crown onto her cleavage then staring expectantly at Cooper as if he should retrieve it, Millie felt like throwing up. Knowing she couldn’t take too much more, she turned her back on the happy couple and aimed for the bar. Screw beer. She needed tequila!
She’d just downed her second shot when a familiar voice behind her said, “Thank God I found you. Please help.”
Cooper had sidled alongside her—or he could’ve been a tequila-induced mirage. But she didn’t think she’d had
that
much to drink.
“I need you to dance with me—you know, pretend we’re an item so Stacie leaves me alone. You might even throw in a kiss for good measure—might look more convincing.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Mr. Romance, why would I want to dance with or kiss you when you’ve clearly found your soul mate?”
He scowled. “Cut the sarcasm. I was playing along with this whole damned thing just to be polite, but now that she’s getting serious, I need an escape route, and pretending to be interested in you is my only logical path. Are you in?”
Gee, that had to be the most romantic proposition she’d ever had—
not!
Still, if it got Cooper away from Stacie, Millie was all for trying. While Millie didn’t want to be with him romantically, she was certain Stacie was no good. Why, she couldn’t say right at that moment. Regardless, as Cooper’s sister-in-law, she’d be doing not just him, but her entire family, a favor in sheltering him from Stacie’s wicked ways.
“Come on, Mill, give me an answer. She’s headed this way.”
Stacie fluffed her hair as she walked, then adjusted her push-up bra for maximum cleavage. She wore enough lip gloss that if she went in for a kiss, poor Cooper would see his reflection.
His expression turned desperate. “Screw the dance. You know what desperate times call for, and this is one of those occasions.” He slipped his arms loose around Millie’s hips.
“Wh-what’re you doing?” she asked, wishing his touch didn’t feel so darned good.
“Leaning in to kiss you.
Please,
just go with it.”
Terror struck until Cooper’s warm, yeasty breath melded with hers. At first, his kiss was soft, testing. But then he increased his pressure until lightning bugs took up residence clear from her chest to her toes.
When he stopped, he whispered, “Think it worked?”
Millie peeked around his shoulder to find Stacie with her hands on her hips, looking madder than a racked bull.
In the meantime, Millie’s lips still tingled from Cooper’s kiss—even more alarming was the fact that she craved more. The walls closed in around her. The smoky, too-warm air. All the people. The smells. Cologne and perfume. Beer and whiskey and cheeseburgers.
The band had started playing again, and Stacie was kicking up a fuss about Cooper, and how he was supposed to have been kissing her.
A low, tight knot formed at the back of Millie’s throat, and she feared the only way to find release would be an ugly round of tears. Not only was she embarrassed, but ashamed, too. No matter what the reason, she’d had no business kissing her brother-in-law. Period.
Millie pushed through the crowd, running for the bar’s rear exit.
She pushed open the door only to gulp in fresh night air. The cold came as a welcome relief to the suffocating warmth inside.
When her sobs hit, they weren’t pretty, and she hid between the Dumpster and a couple of old trash barrels.
“Mill? You out here?”
Great.
Her Valentine had stepped outside for a visit—no doubt to laugh at her just like everyone else in the crowd. The last person on earth she wanted to see was Cooper. He was smart enough that he should have known she’d want nothing to do with him.
“Go away,” she snapped.
“There you are...” He’d carried his pea jacket and now slipped it over her shoulders.