Dirty Little Secret Page 11

  “Is this vodka?” I wrinkled my nose.

  Cooper nodded. “With a pickle back.” He drank the shot quickly and then set his glass on the table between us.

  I exhaled sharply and followed his lead, only to come up coughing at the intense flavor of pure alcohol.

  Cooper laughed and took the glass from me. “You okay?”

  A tall, silver-haired man approached us. “Cooper Kingsley?”

  “Bruce, great to see you.”

  The men exchanged a firm handshake.

  “And who is this beauty?” Bruce asked him, eying me up and down greedily. “When can I take you out, gorgeous?”

  “This is Emma, my girlfriend. Sorry, Bruce. Can you grab us a couple more drinks, babe?”

  Cooper smiled at me sweetly. I nodded and left the pair of men who huddled to talk in a low whisper.

  The table was filled with more of the vodka-and-pickle drinks. I grabbed another and downed it before bringing two back over to Cooper, who stood talking to another man. I watched the sly passing of the business cards as I brought back the drinks.

  “Tying one on tonight?” Cooper said as I handed him the drink. He raised his glass to clink it against mine, and we drained our drinks.

  “These grow on you.” I was already slurring and Cooper chuckled, placing his hand around my waist and pulling me close to him. He felt so much like Gavin, and smelled like him too. I thought drinking was supposed to get your mind off of things.

  “So, I’m your girlfriend now, huh? This is news to me.” I raised my eyebrows at him.

  “It’s easier than explaining that Gavin and I share you as our own private escort, right?” Cooper grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

  I nodded. “Another drink?”

  His eyes went wide as a mischievous smile tugged at his lips and his dimple flashed. “You’ve got it.”

  Soon, he returned with two more glasses, and I downed the liquid quickly again. I no longer needed to cough at the taste. The heat of the alcohol raced through me.

  “Should we look at the art for a little while?” he asked.

  “Where is it?” I looked around the dim room again, but there wasn’t anything hanging on the walls.

  “This way.” Cooper led me toward the end of the room where a crowd was standing in front of what must have been the art. I looked at it, but only vaguely as my vision had started to blur a little. Another few minutes passed, and I realized with a snort-laugh that was beginning to lose my balance in my high heels.

  “Are you tipping the room to the side?” I demanded in a stage whisper, closing one eye as I tried to get Cooper back into focus.

  He caught me by the elbow as I stumbled and chuckled. “I see we have ourselves a lightweight. Okay, princess, I think we need to get you out of here.”

  A poorly timed hiccup made him chuckle again and had me grinning along with him.

  Cooper. Easy-peasy Cooper. No drama. No fear or shame. It was . . . nice. Just like him.

  I sighed and nestled closer as he took out his phone and typed out a quick message. His screen pinged back almost instantly.

  “All right, the limo’s out front.”

  Cooper followed me up the stairs, one hand on my back steadying me. He was probably getting an eyeful of my ass or the bare skin of the backless dress he’d picked out for me, but I couldn’t find it in me to mind. He held me close to him as I stumbled toward the door, feeling the effects of the vodka more intensely as we stepped into the light.

  By the time we got in the limo, I was in a haze. The swaying of the car wasn’t helping. Cooper led me out when we stopped, and I looked around to see he hadn’t taken me home.

  “Where are we?”

  “My place in Cambridge.” Cooper shot me a sweet half smile and continued. “I’m going to take care of you, get you sobered up before I can take you home in good conscience. Wanted to make sure you were going to be okay, princess. You had three shots in a short time, and that was on my watch. I didn’t realize how hard it would hit you.”

  I nodded, my alcohol-soaked brain taking in the massive ornate building.

  “Good evening, Mr. Kingsley.” A man in a red-and-gold bellhop uniform greeted us as we moved toward the elevator.

  Cooper pressed the button for the top floor, number fifteen. The elevator rose fast, and I stumbled again. Cooper caught me, holding me close during the ride up. Soon, the doors opened into a small vestibule containing a single door.

  I tried to keep steady and hold on to my thoughts, the ones swirling around madly, telling me this was nuts. That I should turn around and go home before something happened I might regret. But I couldn’t seem to catch hold of a single one.

  “I think I need a hot shower and some coffee,” I mumbled.

  The next second, Cooper swept me into his house and I went, closing the door behind me, the click echoing like a shot.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cooper

  “How are you feeling?” I helped Emma through the front door and held her forearm as she slipped off her high heels.

  “Mmm, good.” She nodded more eagerly than necessary, like she was trying hard to convince me. I knew she was drunk, and I felt bad for introducing her to my favorite vodka. “It’s freezing in here, though.” She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in her pretty emerald lace dress.

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.” Every woman I’d ever brought home complained about the exact same thing. It appeared the fairer sex didn’t appreciate my fondness for sixty-six-degree air-conditioning. It was a luxury I grew up without, and I now tended to overindulge. “Hang tight. I’ll get you a sweatshirt.”

  I left Emma roaming through the oversized foyer, admiring the art that hung on the walls, and headed to the master bedroom.

  “And turn up the heat,” she shouted from behind me.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Moments later, I handed her my softest gray sweatshirt.

  “Harvard?” she asked, pushing her arms through the oversized sleeves.

  I shook my head. “I didn’t go there, if that’s what you’re wondering. Didn’t have the money. Or the grades for college.”

  “Did you want to go?”

  “Of course.”

  “You could,” she said, nodding at me. “Go back now.”

  I shrugged. “I’m twenty-eight, and I do well for myself. There’s really no need now.”

  As I spoke, Emma wandered around my loft, acquainting herself with the space. Trailing her fingertips along the exposed-brick wall in the living room, she stopped at the wall of windows that led out to the balcony.

  “You can see everything from here,” she said.

  Sliding up behind her, I placed my hands on her waist. I told myself it was just to steady her, but it really was only an excuse to touch her. She looked damn cute in her formal gown and my favorite sweatshirt.

  Emma turned to face me. Her eyes were full of questions, and in that moment, I wished I had all the answers.

  “You all right?”

  She nodded, her eyes huge pools of brilliant blue. “Just tipsy.”

  I steered her toward the kitchen. “Sit right here.” I helped her onto a stool at the breakfast bar and fired up my coffee maker.

  Moments later, I handed her a white porcelain mug of steaming coffee. “A few sips of this, you’ll be good as new.”

  “Will you show me around?” she asked.

  “Yes. If you drink your coffee.”

  “So bossy,” she murmured. “I thought that was Gavin’s role.”

  Her remark made me smirk, but she took a long pull from the mug. Then she rose to her feet, happy to follow me through my apartment like a little child, eager for answers.

  She stopped in front of a photo in the hall. “Is that you and Barbara Walters?”

  “She’s from Brookline, and we used to watch 20/20 as kids.”

  “Did she cover kid-friendly stories?” />
  “Definitely not, but our life wasn’t kid-friendly to begin with.”

  She moved down the hall to another photo of Gavin, me, and Marchand, the Bruins’ left wing. “You two look so alike and so different.”

  I knew what she meant. We shared a lot of similar features, but where I was usually content or smiling, Gavin was reserved and icy. Even in the pictures hanging on my walls, that much was evident. Gavin rarely smiled for a photo.

  I steered Emma toward my bedroom, which was usually the last stop on the tour.

  “Do you and Gavin hang out a lot?”

  She was so cute and so obvious, I had to laugh, even though I hoped she’d forget about Gavin for a minute and focus on what was right in front of her. I didn’t get her attraction to him, but the fact remained that if she wanted him, I wouldn’t stand in the way.

  “You could say that.”

  “Books!” she shouted, cutting me off and running to the tall cases that held dozens of books. She rubbed her index finger across the spines. Almost all my books were classics, leather-bound with gold-embossed titles.

  “You’re a hilarious drunk.”

  Emma shot me a restrained smirk. “I could see why there’s no point in you going to college, you read it all anyway. Did Gavin go to college?”

  I removed my suit coat and hung it in the closet, unable to answer another Gavin question for a moment. She abandoned the books and came over to sit on my bed, demanding an answer.

  “Nope. Neither did Quinn.” I removed my cuff links, setting them on the wooden tray on the dresser, and began to unbutton my dress shirt.

  She scooted back toward the tufted headboard, her little feet reaching only the middle of the king-sized bed.

  “This is so cozy. I would die for a bed like this.” When she rolled face-first into a pillow and inhaled, I resisted the urge to chuckle at her again.

  I pulled my dress shirt off to reveal a tight plain white tee. I savored watching Emma’s eyes watching me as I undressed. She wanted my brother . . . for now. I had to remember that if he could make himself worthy of her, I wanted that for him. But if he was determined to sink the whole fucking thing?

  Well, there was no reason Emma couldn’t get a look at what she was missing in the meantime.

  “My phone,” Emma said, and tried to rise from the bed at the pinging sound coming from the other room.

  “I got it, princess. Is it in your purse?” I finished removing my belt and rolled it, then placed it in the belt drawer.

  “Yes, thank you.” She settled back into the pillows and curled into a ball.

  When I handed her the bag, she fished out her phone.

  “It’s Gavin.” She sounded unsure and stared down at the phone for a few seconds. “I’m not going to text him back,” she announced triumphantly, clearly satisfied with herself.

  “And why not?” Because you’re here with me, happy and in my bed?

  “I think he probably had the wrong number.” Emma drew her brows together and tossed the phone down beside her.

  “Why, what did it say?” This was intriguing, and pissed me off because it was late and he couldn’t possibly have a need for her now. Moreover, he knew she was out with me tonight.

  Emma stared at her phone. “It says, where’s my toy? So, he must have meant it for someone else who lost something.”

  Did Emma believe that bullshit? Since she clearly didn’t know Gavin at all, perhaps I should clue her in. “You’re the toy, Emma. He expects you to fall all over him. He’s a dick like that.”

  I watched Emma’s expression fall as I spoke, wishing I could take it back instantly. Fuck. Why did I say all that? What the hell was the matter with me? I’d decided from the start that Emma would be perfect for Gavin, if only he would open up to the experience. But, damn it, if he couldn’t live up to the task? Maybe it was time to start looking out for guy who could.

  Namely, me.

  She let out a soft oh. That information seemed to deflate her.

  I sat down on the bed next to her, moving in closer. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I placed my hands on her shoulders, rubbing lightly.

  She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m glad you told me the truth.”

  “Need anything else, princess?” I asked as I reluctantly removed my hands from her delicate shoulders.

  “I’m all right.” She looked again at her phone as if she was hoping for another message.

  “You like Gavin,” I said and held my breath, begging silently for her to convince me otherwise.

  “He’s arrogant and controlling,” she blurted before pausing to take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. He’s my boss, and frankly, I’m grateful for the extra money and what he’s done for the library.”

  I pressed my lips together and waited as Emma paused.

  “I guess you’re my boss too, but you’re so easy to be around. I can really be myself.”

  “Well, you’re off the clock now and with a friend,” I said.

  “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “Still cold?” I asked as I wrapped an arm around her .

  She sank against me in response, resting her cheek on my chest and snuggling in. “I’m glad you brought me here.”

  “I couldn’t have you going home and getting sick alone. I felt bad for letting you drink so much.”

  She raised her head from its resting spot. “I’m not sick.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. Do you want me to take you home now?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not ready to go just yet. Is that okay?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

  We rose from the bed and I led her toward the master bathroom.

  “Oh my word!” She gasped. “Cooper, you’re in trouble. You’ve been holding out on me.”

  Emma’s voice echoed around the walls. Her eyes widened as she took in the glass two-person shower, spa tub, and double vanity. My bathroom was over-the-top, and I made no apologies for that. It was complete with its own chandelier and an overstuffed armchair.

  Emma climbed into the empty bathtub, fully clothed. “This is incredible.”

  “Can I run you a bath?” I chuckled at her.

  “Really?”

  “Why not? So long as you’re not feeling too buzzed still?”

  “Oh yes, please,” she replied eagerly. “I feel a lot better. Wow, what a treat.”

  “You crack me up.” I leaned down to lift her small body from the bath. “Mint or lavender?”

  “Lavender, please.”

  After filling the tub and adding the apothecary scents, I brought her a long white tee shirt and a pair of boxers. “Towels are in there.” I pointed to the glass cabinet in the corner, trying not to die of a throbbing hard-on at the thought of Emma Bell in my fucking bathtub. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me, princess.”

  As I closed the door, I had to laugh.

  Karma was a bitch.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emma

  The bath was glorious. The smell of lavender filled the room and I closed my eyes, sinking further into the hot water. The alcohol buzzing through my system had finally worn off, but my confusion over Gavin hadn’t. He was in the room yesterday when Cooper asked me to attend the event tonight, so he knew I’d be with Cooper. I wanted to let myself imagine that Gavin was staking his claim on me, and at the same time, that thought disgusted me.

  But I was also disgusted with myself. What the hell was I doing in Cooper’s bathtub? At first, a little tipsy and seeing the glorious room, it had been totally innocent. But now, as the effects of the vodka faded, if felt anything but.

  Was I subconsciously making my decision? An irreversible one, at that?

  Cooper’s knock echoed through the bathroom. “Emma?”

  “Yes?”

  Cooper opened the door and let himself in. I lo
oked down, realizing all the bubbles had vanished. Nothing but pink skin as far as the eye could see. I folded my arms over my chest.

  He held back a grin and looked away, clearing his throat. “Sorry, you, uh . . . got a phone call, and I saw who it was so I answered.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Gavin. I told him you were in the bath.” Cooper’s face didn’t betray his satisfaction, but his voice did.

  My heart banged in my chest at his words as I considered the implication and impression they caused. Cooper watched me, waiting for my reaction.

  “That’s perfect, thank you.” It wasn’t a lie. And if Gavin felt jealous, it served him right. I didn’t want to play his silly games. I was out with a sweet guy and having a damn fine time.

  Cooper gave me a wide smile, seeming very pleased at my dismissal of Gavin.

  “Did you need something else?” I asked as I rubbed my feet together in the warm water.

  “Do you like being here with me, princess?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to lead him on, but not wanting to lie either. “Yes.”

  He moved into the bathroom, leaving the barrier of the door behind. Leaning down, he gently kissed my forehead.

  “You are so fucking perfect, it hurts,” he whispered near my ear.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I remained frozen beneath the water. He was so sweet. So gentle. Nothing at all like Gavin. And, damn it, it felt so good to be cherished.

  “Let me wash your hair. Nothing else, I swear it.”

  I nodded in response, my throat suddenly tight and dry. He pumped a few drops of shampoo into his hand and knelt on the floor by the tub, gentling massaging my head with his fingers.

  “Mmm . . . that feels good.” I leaned back into his big hands. No one ever pampered me like this, and even though doubt lingered in the back of my mind, I wanted to enjoy the moment.

  An excess of lather built and suds slid down my neck and chest. Cooper’s breathing quickened, but his touch was controlled. He worked his way from my scalp to the ends of my hair, until he was massaging my neck and shoulders with the thick white foam. After he rinsed my hair, he conditioned it, taking his time stroking my locks until all the tangles were gone.