“Oh, just two nights.” He’s poking away at his watch now, his index finger stabbing at a shiny icon. “I’ve got to go. Lots to organize, you know? But we’ll have a great time in Granville. Watch for that email.” And then he’s gone, striding out the historic society’s double wooden doors, heedless of the cluster fuck he’s left in his wake.
I can’t go on a retreat with Donovantomorrow.We’re not even speaking to each other, by which I meanhe’sbarely speaking tome.Sure, he fed me that line about needing to interact for professional purposes, but what does that even mean? If we had to participate in a trust fall exercise, I bet he’d accidentally-on-purpose let me hit the floor. And if our roles were reversed, he’d probably think I’d let him crash and burn on purpose…that I planned to humiliate him and then go running right back to Cooper with the news.
My head roiling, I dig my phone out of my purse to see who texted me. It’s Charlotte, who’s been checking in on me ever since I ran out of her house during the blackout.
Let me know when you want to get together and talk about the parent thing some more
Oh, God. With everything that’s happened, I haven’t even thought about what to tell Charlotte. Last thing she knew, I was desperate to discover my parents’ identities. Now I know who they are and how they died…but there’s no way I can explain that to my best friend. What the hell am I going to do?
When in doubt, delay.
thanks, I will. just found out I have to go out of town for work tho
Her response is instant.
Omg. with grumpy sex spreadsheet guy?
This is going from bad to worse.
Yes unfortunately. I’ll keep you posted. Would you mind feeding Valentine while I’m gone? I’ll owe you one
When she agrees, thank goodness—the girls are obsessed with my cat, and she thinks this will “teach them responsibility”—I shove my phone back into my purse and walk outside, half-hoping, half-fearing that Donovan will be waiting for me, so we can have a much-needed conversation about how to handle the next two days. But no such luck. Because the moment I step onto the historical society’s wide front porch,there, in full uniform, arms folded across his chest and jaw clenched so tight he could give Donovan a run for his money, is Andrew Cooper.
“Goddamn it, Rune. What the hell did you do to my brother?” he growls.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
I gape at him,bewildered. “Where did you come from?”
“I live here.” He folds his arms across his chest, lounging back against one of the white brick columns that lines the porch. “Surely you gathered that much from our little chat.”
“You livehere?Like, on the porch of the historical society?” I’m not being sarcastic—who the hell knows what witches do?—but under the light-brown prickle of his five-o’-clock stubble, his jaw clenches even further. The local dentists must’ve sent up celebratory flares when he and Donovan moved to town.
“Yes, Rune,” he says from between gritted teeth. “My residence is underneath that rocking chair.” He stabs a finger at the handcrafted object in question. “I piss in the corner whenever the need arises. You know, to mark my territory.”
Okay, so this isn’t going well. “There’s no need to be such a dick.”
His brows rise. “I beg to differ. And I’m here becauseyou’rehere. I told you, I’m drawn to power. About an hour and a half ago, I felt a surge. When I trace it to its source, what do I find? You and Donovan, inside this building. And when he comes storming out, his pants are ripped, his shirt is wrinkled, and he’seven more of an uptight asshole than usual. So, I repeat”—he pushes off the column, glaring down at me with those unnerving blue eyes—“what did you do?”
I’m getting damn tired of being glared at by the two of them. “I tripped.”
Cooper blinks at me, like a large, incredulous owl. “You what?”
“Itripped, okay? And when I fell, I knocked him over. That’s how he got all…ripped and wrinkled. I didn’t have my wicked way with him on the table of the historical society’s board room. Satisfied?”
Cooper’s face goes through a bizarre series of metamorphoses: annoyance, comprehension and, finally, amusement. “That’s quite an image,” he drawls, leaning back against the column again. “Also, oddly specific.”
“It’s the truth! You can ask any of the fifty people who were probably spying on us through their windows. I’m surprised it hasn’t hit the Sapphire Springs Facebook page yet.”
“Let’s look, shall we?” He cocks a brow, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Ah yes, there it is. You, on top of my brother, looking like you’re about to violate twenty public decency statutes. Let’s see… Oh, how charming. #donorune #ronovan #steamyinthesprings.”
His delivery is so deadpan, I can’t tell if he’s joking. I wrench his phone from his hand, earning an outraged growl, and stare down at the screen. And…yeah, he’s not lying. There we are: Donovan staring up at me, his hands fisted on my hips. Me, straddling him, my hair spilling down everywhere. And Ethan, in the background, looking bemused.
“Oh, no,” I mumble, more to myself than to Cooper. “Who posted this? I want to wring their neck. And then maybe sauté their liver with some fava beans.”
“Please do.” Cooper snatches his phone back, scowling down at it. “Nothing would give me more pleasure than arresting you again and sticking you in a cell where I can keep an eye on you. I told you to stay away from my brother. Not tackle him and give him a lap dance.”
