Page 68 of Wrecked

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, clearly it’s something.”

“It’s not you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then what?”

“Never mind,” Cooper says. “So, what else did you do today?”

We chat for a while, and then our meals arrive. The food is cooked to perfection.

Just as we’re about to finish up, a stranger with dark hair and a trim dark beard, dressed in a three-piece suit that looks like it cost a fortune, walks up to our table.

He smiles as he lays a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “I thought that was you, Cooper. How’s it going?” The man smiles at me. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” He holds out his hand. “Troy Spencer. I’m Shane McIntyre’s attorney.”

Ahh.Cooper’s bad mood suddenly makes perfect sense. He saw someone he knows. Or, rather, someone he knows sawhimwithme.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” I say as I shake the man’s hand. He’s hardly much older than I am, but he has a commanding presence. “I’m Sam Harrison. I’m a bodyguard at McIntyre Security.”

“Not just any bodyguard,” Cooper says. “Sam is Beth’s full-time protection now.”

Mr. Spencer nods. “Ah, yes. I’d heard Lia was now assigned to Jonah Locke’s security detail. Well, Sam, it’s very nice to meet you. Shane’s more than a client to me. He’s a good friend. Beth, too. Welcome to the family.”

I find it interesting he said,Welcome to the family, and notWelcome to the team. “Thanks. I’m glad to be here.”

The attorney says goodbye then. “I’d better get back to my date.” He waves at a pretty blonde seated at a table for two. “Tell Shane and Beth I said hi.”

“Will do,” Cooper says.

And then the man’s gone.

Cooper looks everywhere but at me. He’s nervous at best because someone he knows saw us together. At worst, he’s embarrassed.

“Don’t get your undies in a twist,” I tell him, hoping to minimize his discomfort. “Guys go out for dinner together all the time. It doesn’t mean a thing. Hell, I go out for dinner with Liam or Miguel all the time. It doesn’t mean they want to bone me.”

“This isn’t the type of restaurant where you hang out with your buddies, Sam. It’s the kind of restaurant you take someone you’re trying to impress.”

Cooper’s trying to impress me?

Our server lays a black leather folder on the table. Before I can even reach for the check, Cooper lays a black credit card on top.

“Thank you, sir.” The server picks it up and walks away.

After the check is paid, Cooper throws his fancy linen napkin on the table. “Let’s go home.”

Home.

He referred to my place ashome. I’m not even going to attempt to read anything into that. It was probably just a slip of the tongue.

But still, he said it.

Those three little words—let’s go home—speak volumes to my inner wishful thinker.

* * *

Sure enough, Cooper meant my apartment. He uses the key I gave him to let us in. Fortunately, we didn’t see anyone on our way up. His secret is safe.

Cooper grabs us each a beer from the fridge, and we end up on the sofa. I tell him all about the events of the day.