didn’t matter. “I haven’t been here for any of the parole hearings.” And maybe that was why he thought his feelings didn’t matter—because he had been gone so long. He had left his family.
And her. But they’d only just been friends, high school friends who often drifted apart after graduation. She hadn’t really meant anything to him. But she knew that his family had meant everything to him.
“If you had been here, would you have gone to those hearings?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s best to leave the past in the past.”
She and Stephen were his past.
“But most people don’t feel that way,” he continued. He passed her a legal pad and a pen. “Write down the names of the guys you’ve dated. And write down any cases you remember where someone might be holding a grudge against you.”
“I really can’t,” she protested. “There are privacy laws I have to obey.”
“What about Stephen?”
He was her best friend. And he was missing. If there was any chance of getting him back, her pride and her job could be damned. So she wrote down some names.
“He knew,” she said, finally defending herself from his earlier comment. “Stephen knew about the threats.”
Cooper sucked in a breath. “And he wanted to marry you anyway? He must love you a lot.”
As a friend. But if she told Cooper that, he would think the same thing her sister did—that she was just using Stephen to get her inheritance.
“I love him a lot, too,” she said. But only as a friend.
Cooper’s jaw went rigid again, as if he was clenching it. He nodded. “Stephen’s a good man. And a lawyer. Your grandfather would have approved.”
Probably, but only until she’d given away all his ruthlessly earned money.
“We have to find him,” she said. And she couldn’t rely on an overworked police department. “I really can’t afford Payne Protection—not until I get my inheritance. But I want to hire your family.” They specialized in security, working mainly as bodyguards, but Logan and Parker were both former police officers. And Cooper was...Cooper. The kind of man who stopped a speeding car from barreling over a woman.
Had she even thanked him? She couldn’t remember now; it had all been such a blur of terror and disbelief and then relief.
His brow furrowed with confusion. “We’re already on the job. Why do you think I showed up at the church in the first place?”
She had been so upset over finding the blood in the empty groom’s quarters that she hadn’t given it much thought then. “I don’t know...maybe you had changed your mind about being Stephen’s best man.”
But that wasn’t the case. She already knew that from when she’d eavesdropped outside the bride’s room. He had been pretty clear that he’d wanted no part of his mother’s manipulations. Why had the wedding planner been so intent on getting Cooper to attend the ceremony? It wasn’t as if he would have stood up and protested their union—at least not to claim her as his bride. Definitely not to claim her as his bride...
“I wish I had agreed to be his best man,” Cooper admitted. “Then I would have been there...”
Her heart lurched. “And you could have been hurt, too.” Or worse...
Just as his brother had said while they’d waited for him to make sure her apartment was safe, he reminded her, “I can take care of myself.”
Cooper wouldn’t have gone anywhere willingly. Not that Stephen had. Poor Stephen...
“And I can take care of you, too,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”
He had already proven that—when he’d stopped a speeding car.
“That’s why I showed up at the church,” he said. He scooped up some of the shriveled petals that had fallen from the black roses. “Mom took the delivery of these and knew something was wrong.”
“I’m sorry I brought your mother into this,” she said, suspecting that could have been the reason for some of his anger earlier. “I thought those threats were empty. I didn’t believe anyone would actually act on them.” Or she would have never agreed to marry her best friend. “I’ve been getting them for years...”
“How many years?” he asked.
She sighed and replied, “Ten years.”
“Around the time your grandfather died?”
Cooper remembered when Grandfather had died? He had been deployed at the time; he must have had greater concerns on his mind than her loss—such as it had been. Benedict Bradford had never been a very warm or loving man.
“Yes,” she replied. “I didn’t get them all that often—only when I started seriously seeing someone.”
“Someone sure didn’t want you collecting your inheritance,” he mused, staring down at the box of threats.
She sighed again. “They got what they wanted.” And they’d gotten Stephen, too. Would they give him back...without the money?
Her stomach churned with dread and worry that they wouldn’t, that she might never see her dear friend again. And the tears she’d been fighting back for so long rushed up with such force that they burst out. She couldn’t hold back the sobs while tears streamed from her eyes.
Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her close. And a big hand gently patted her hair. “No, they haven’t gotten what they wanted.”
She shook her head, and his fingers slipped through her hair and skimmed down her neck. A rush of heat stemmed her tears. “There’re only a few days before my thirtieth birthday. I hope we find Stephen before then.” She doubted that they would, though. “But even if we do, I can’t put him at risk again. I can’t marry Stephen.”
“You’re not going to marry Stephen,” he agreed.
Because her groom was missing...
What if he was already dead? Her heart beat heavily with anguish. And more tears trickled out, sliding down her cheeks.
Cooper wiped them away with his thumbs. “You’re going to marry me.”
Her heart rate quickened to a frantic pace. She gazed up at him in disbelief. “What? You didn’t agree to that.”
“I changed my mind,” he said. “I’m going to be your groom. You’re still getting married tomorrow.”
Maybe Rochelle’s slaps had hit her hard enough to addle her brain. She couldn’t understand what he was saying. What he meant...
Maybe it was because he was too close, his arms around her—his heart pounding hard against hers. And he was leaning down, his head so close that she could see tiny black flecks in the bright blue of his eyes. She could see the shadow of his lashes on his cheeks and the stubble that was already darkening his jaw.
She wanted to reach up and run her fingers over that stubble, up his chin to his lips. All these years later she still remembered how they felt—silky but firm. But she didn’t want to just touch his lips; she wanted to kiss them. The urge was so great that she rose on tiptoe.
But before she could close the slight distance between their mouths, she jerked out of his arms. She couldn’t be having these thoughts—these desires for Cooper. She needed air to clear her head, so she moved toward the big arched window that looked out onto the street below. But before she could lift the bottom pane, the glass shattered.
Gunshots echoed.
And she was falling to the ground, pushed down as more gunshots rang out. Pain radiated throughout her body and she wondered if it was already too late.
Would