Nine-Month Protector

To his credit, Coop’s shoulder-high tank of a partner had mellowed in his emotional moods since finding a woman who could go head to head with him in any battle of words and wills. They could give each other grief, and Seth would walk away smiling with a genuine sense of peace he hadn’t known for a long time.

Coop hid his pensive smile behind another swallow of his tepid morning coffee, swallowing the guilt that nagged at his conscience right along with it. His friendship with Seth Cartwright went deep, and he wouldn’t begrudge the tough guy his well-earned contentment.

Funny how finding a soul mate could reform even the hardest of hearts. Seth and Rebecca Page deserved their happily-ever-after. And come Christmas time, he’d proudly stand up as best man when the two of them got married.

Coop’s mind wandered from the captain’s spiel about timetables and task force goals.

Serving as best man might be as close as he’d ever get to a wedding himself. Not unless he could find a way to purge Sarah Cartwright from his thoughts the same way she seemed to have erased him from her life so quickly and thoroughly.

It had started as a simple kiss that morning in July. Coop had stood by Sarah while a uniformed officer had taken her statement and gotten contact information. He’d held her hand while the officer had promised to post an APB for both a man named McDonough and the blond girl’s body. Sarah had witnessed a murder at the Riverboat Casino. She’d tried to tell Coop something about her father setting her up, something about Teddy Wolfe using her.

And then she’d started crying again before everything made sense. When she’d walked into his arms a second time, Cooper had welcomed her, held her tight. When she’d asked for a kiss, he hadn’t been able to resist.

That kiss had seemed to go on and on. Instead of stopping, it had altered, deepened—demanded—and comfort had given way to passion.

It had been quick that first time. Crazy.

She needed him, she’d said. Needed that affirmation of life, of normalcy. She’d needed that soul-deep connection to another human being that making love could provide. And Coop had wanted to help her so badly—had wanted her so badly—that he hadn’t been able to summon the common sense to refuse her anything she asked.

“I’m sorry.” She’d started apologizing before they’d even had all their clothes back on. “I took advantage of your kindness, your caring. I’m no better than—”

“Hey, that wasn’t completely unexpected between the two of us, was it? Things have been simmering for months. Trust me, kindness had nothing to do with howmuch I wanted you.” He’d tried to draw her back into her bed, had tried to gentle her nervous discomfort with another kiss.

“No. This was a mistake. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

She’d been out of his arms, out of the room before he could get a straight answer about where he’d gone wrong. Then he was out of her apartment, and out of her life before he could really get his head around the idea that Sarah Cartwright had only wanted a warm body to get close to that morning.

She hadn’t been looking for a relationship.

And she sure as hell hadn’t been looking for him.

“Watch it, buddy.” Seth nudged Coop’s arm, wrenching him back to the present. He nodded toward Coop’s hand on the table.

Lukewarm coffee dribbled over the back of Coop’s knuckles, leaking from the paper cup he’d crushed in his fist. Damn. Way to not let this get to you, Bellamy. But he managed to cover his thoughts with half a grin. “Oops.”

“We’ll get these bastards. Don’t worry.” Seth had misread Coop’s frustration, but his reassurance offered an easy excuse.

“I know. We’ll get ’em.”

While Coop mopped at the mess with a paper napkin, John Kincaid finished his briefing. “I’ll contact you individually with your assignments as they come up. In the meantime, return to your normal duties at your home precinct.” Coop tossed the cup and napkin into a nearby trash can as the captain dismissed them. “And remember to keep a twenty-four-hour line of contact open. We want to be able to mobilize our team the instant something new breaks on this case.”

“Yes, sir,” Coop answered, joining the chorus of responses from the task force members as they stood and filed from the room. Wadding up a handful of paper towels from the sink near the exit, he traded gibes and snippets of friendly conversation with his fellow cops as they walked past. Soon it was just him wiping down the table where he’d spilled his coffee, and Seth, waiting at the door for him so they could ride back to the Fourth Precinct building together.

A soft knock at the door echoed in the room’s sudden quiet.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Coop recognized what Seth’s familiar greeting meant. He braced for the figurative punch in the gut, even before he turned around to see his partner swallow up his twin sister in a hug.

“Hey, Seth.” Sarah planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek as she pulled away.

Coop stood back and watched, remembering, comparing that chaste kiss to the brazen thrust of her tongue in his mouth. Damn. Muscles clenched in hidden places, and he was suffused with a sudden heat that made him itchy beneath his skin.

He turned away while the brother and sister, who obviously shared such a deep connection, caught up on the past couple of weeks since they’d last seen each other. He couldn’t deny them the joy this impromptu reunion gave them, not when Coop shared the same kind of bond with his own family. But he didn’t have to stand there and watch and want, and wonder how he could be jealous of Seth—Sarah’s brother. Coop’s partner. His best friend.

Feeling like an unwanted fly at a picnic, Cooper concentrated very hard on carrying the coffee-soaked towels to the trash and dumping them. If there was a back door to this tenth-floor meeting room, he’d already be gone.

“Hey, Coop.”

Was that a hesitation he heard in Sarah’s voice? Or was that just his own reluctance to act like nothing had changed between them when everything felt different—twisted—inside him. Of course, he’d made the effort to call her, to stop by her apartment. But her absences and lack of response had made it embarrassingly clear that he was the only one interested in making something happen between them. Or, at the very least, he was the only one interested in making sense of what had felt like a real relationship to him for about twelve hours or so.

So hell, yeah. If she could pretend nothing had happened that morning, then so could he. Coop strolled over to the doorway to join them, grabbing his KCPD ball cap and pasting on a grin along the way. “Hey, Sarah. So what brings you to Cop Land?”

“I was hoping I could take you to lunch.”

She was still a pint-sized ball of pretty. Neither time nor distance nor three months of a cold shoulder that could have raised goose bumps diminished that fact. Today she wore a denim jumper over a deep-green turtleneck that brought out the color of her eyes. Her wheat-and-honey-colored ponytail was the only evidence of the tomboy she’d once been, because there was nothing boyish about the slightly crooked, all sexy mouth beneath the peachy tint of her lipstick.

“I’ll leave you to it. If you need a ride back to the precinct, Seth, just give me a call.” Coop circled around him and tried to slide out the door without touching Sarah. “See ya.”

“I meant you, Coop.” He paused at the tug on his sleeve. But when he turned to look down at the hand on his arm, Sarah quickly folded her fingers into her palm and tucked her fist back under the jacket she’d draped over her forearms. “My treat.”

The upturned eyes pleaded but didn’t explain the out-of-the-blue request. What the hell?

“Hey, what about me?” Seth protested. “Don’t I rate an invitation?”

Sarah turned back to her brother, leaving Coop to quiz the possibilities on his own. “I happen to know that Rebecca is picking you up downstairs at noon. She said she has plans for you today.” She cocked her head to one side. “Something about china patterns and silverware?”

Seth groaned and reached over her to clasp Coop by the shoulder. “Save me.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. You’re the one who proposed.” It was easier to joke than to let anything get too serious with Sarah standing between them. “I see you as sort of a ‘pewter goblet’ kind of guy myself.”

“I am wearing a gun, remember?”

“Cut it out, you two,” Sarah chided them both. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, Rebecca did say something about being able to get the job done in twenty minutes and then having the rest of her lunch break to do whatever it is you two do when you have…free time together?” The wink-wink teasing in her voice was obvious.

And Seth was eating it up. “Hmm. I think pickin’ out dishes just got a little more interesting.”

“You wish, Cartwright.” Coop had rarely seen a smile on his partner’s face during the eight long months he’d worked undercover at the casino and gotten cozy with the mob. He wasn’t about to douse Seth’s well-deserved happiness by bringing up anything like the fact he’d slept with his sister and then hadn’t spoken to her for twelve weeks. Even if the latter hadn’t been his choice.

Seth was already anxious to leave. “So what are you two going to do? If you’re ganging up as best man and maid of honor to pull some kind of prank at the reception or the bachelor party, you can just forget it.” He pointed a stern finger at Sarah. “I know you’re a good girl, but you…?”

Coop threw his hands up in mock surrender at the accusatory finger now pointed his way. “I’m a good girl, too.”

“Yeah, right.” Seth’s laugh demanded that Coop and Sarah join in, too. “You guys have fun.” He kissed his sister’s cheek, then poked that finger against Coop’s chest. “Not too much fun, though. You mind your manners.”

Sarah nudged her brother down the hallway. “I’ll make sure he does. Now go. Don’t keep Rebecca waiting.”

Seth spared them a glance over his shoulder. “I guess I won’t be needing to bum that ride back to the Fourth. I’ll have Bec drop me off after we…lunch.”