Strictly Lonergan's Business Page 3

  “Cooper…” she waited for him to look at her. As stubborn as he could be, she kept quiet, counting the ticking seconds as they passed before, at last, his gaze lifted to hers. Those dark brown eyes looked shadowed by old pain and instantly she felt an answering ache inside her. “What could be so important that it would keep you from someone you love for so long?”

  He took a sip of wine, swallowed, then set the glass carefully onto the table as if afraid it would shatter.

  “Sometimes love’s just not enough, Kara.” He sighed, scraped one hand across his face, then forced a smile that did nothing to ease the shadows in his eyes. “Sometimes love is the problem.”

  An icy draft slipped through the kitchen, twining itself around Kara, reaching out for Cooper and then holding them both in a chill embrace.

  “Whoa,” Cooper said as Kara shivered, “these old places really let in the cold.” He stood up and started across the kitchen. “I’ll close the living room windows.”

  The cold eased away and Kara sent a disquieted glance around the empty room. Old houses were drafty, yes. But Cooper’s errand was a fruitless one.

  She’d closed the windows herself an hour ago.

  Three

  Kara woke up with a jolt.

  Heart pounding, lungs heaving, she shook off the last of the nightmare still clinging to the edges of her mind. She swallowed hard and grabbed at the quilt pooled at her waist in an effort to steady herself.

  She couldn’t remember what she’d been dreaming. Couldn’t remember what had chased her from that dream into wakefulness. All she did know was that goose bumps were racing up and down her spine and air was still hard to come by.

  Then she heard it.

  Sobbing.

  Someone in the old house was crying as if their heart was breaking. The sound lifted, rising, filling the house with pain that was nearly tangible. Then an instant later, the sobs quieted, becoming a whisper that Kara strained to hear.

  Mouth dry, heartbeat frantic, she tossed the quilt back and swung her legs to the floor. The polished wooden floorboards felt cold against her bare feet, but she hardly noticed. She moved to the door, determined to follow the desperate sobs to their source.

  Fear tugged at her insides, but curiosity was stronger. Grabbing hold of the icy brass knob, she opened her door, stepped into the hallway and stopped dead. The sorrow filled wails rose again, and with them, the small hairs at the back of Kara’s neck.

  Moonlight filtered in through the arch-shaped window at the end of the hall, painting a pale silver glow on the walls and the faded carpet runner stretched down the center of the hallway. Outside, trees danced in the wind and their shadows dipped and swayed wildly.

  Kara could have sworn she jumped three feet, straight up, when the door across from hers suddenly swung open. Heart in her throat now, she grabbed hold of the doorjamb as Cooper appeared on the threshold. His long black hair mussed from sleep, he glared at the empty hallway, then at her.

  “What the hell is going on around here?” he demanded, voice raw.

  She had to swallow hard before she could be sure her voice would work. He wore dark red cotton drawstring pants that hung low on his hips and the hems stacked up on his bare feet. In the moonlight, his sculpted chest looked as if it had been lovingly molded from a sheet of bronze and Kara’s palms itched to touch it. Touch him.

  “Kara?” He waved one hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Hello?”

  She shook her head, told her hormones to take a vacation and snapped, “Get your hand out of my face, Cooper.”

  “You zoned out on me.”

  “I did not zone out,” she argued, though she was pretty sure she had. Heck, one long look at Cooper, fresh from bed, was enough to conquer the strongest of women. And Kara had already admitted to being a spineless wiener dog.

  The sobbing rose again, swelling up from below the stairs like a slowly inflating balloon taking to the sky. And a new set of goose pimples ice-skated up and down Kara’s arms.

  Cooper turned his head and stared at the head of the stairs for a long minute, before turning his gaze back to her. “Tell me you heard that.”

  She huffed out an anxious breath. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” she repeated. “What’s good about that?”

  “I thought I was dreaming it,” he whispered, stepping further into the hall and throwing another glance at the stairs. “Then I figured it was a hallucination. But if we’re both hearing it, then that means it’s real.” His voice dropped even further and he leaned in close so she could hear him above the mournful weeping that seemed to be dripping from the walls. “And if it’s real, then somebody’s trying to pull something funny.”

  Kara swallowed hard. Cooper’s breath came warm against her cheek and she had to fight to concentrate on what he was saying instead of the way he made her feel, leaning in so darn close. Closing her eyes briefly, she gulped at air then asked, “Who would think this kind of thing is funny?”

  He shot her a look. “My cousin Jake for one, but as far as I know he’s still in Spain.” Then he smiled. “Mike Haney.”

  “Who?” Kara followed him quietly, walking right behind him as he started down the center of the hall toward the stairs.

  He turned around quickly and she nearly yelped.

  “Shhh…” he said, dropping both hands onto her shoulders. “Mike Haney’s an old friend. We all grew up together. My cousin Sam told me he saw ol’Mike in town the other day. And trust me, this is just the kind of thing Mike would think up.”

  She didn’t think so. But then, her brain wasn’t really working on all cylinders at the moment. His big hands, with those talented, long fingers, held her firmly and felt so warm on her skin. Everything inside her hummed with an electrical sort of awakening that couldn’t be quenched—even by the goose bumps that were still rippling along her spine.

  Focus, Kara, focus.

  “Cooper—”

  “Stay here,” he warned, lifting one hand to hold up his index finger like he was signaling a recalcitrant puppy to sit.

  “Excuse me?”

  He scowled. “Kara, will you just stay here while I go down and beat the crap outta Mike?”

  “No, I’m not staying here,” she said and waved a hand, silently telling him to get going and she’d be right behind him. “What? Are we in a 1950s movie? Big strong man leaves the little woman behind while he stalks off to danger?”

  He snorted. “The only one in danger around here is Mike Haney.”

  “That sobbing does not sound like a guy.”

  He looked about to argue, so she added, “Besides, what if you’re wrong? You think I want to be up here all by myself? No freakin’ way.”

  The crying continued, rolling on and on, lifting and falling like waves cresting on the shore, then sliding back out to sea. The very air seemed thicker, heavier somehow and Kara—for just a second and who could really blame her—almost wanted to be in that old movie. Hiding under a bed while Cooper went to check things out.

  Then a terrible, wrenching moan swept through the house and Kara’s heart twisted in empathy.

  “Stay behind me,” Cooper muttered, starting down the stairs at a dead creep, carefully putting one foot gently down before moving the other.

  “No problem there,” she murmured and stayed as close to him as his shadow at high noon.

  He reached behind him, grabbed her hand in his and held on tight. Kara clung to him like he was the last eighty percent off sweater at a clearance sale at Bloomie’s.

  At the bottom of the stairs, the sound was all around them, reverberating off the walls, the floor, the ceilings, until it seemed to echo over and over again.

  “Cooper…”

  “Come on…”

  His legs were a lot longer than hers, so Kara practically had to trot to keep up with him as he sprinted for the main parlor.

  “It’s centered there,” he whispered. “You hear it? Louder the closer
we get.”

  And now that they were almost on top of the sound, Kara wondered why in the devil she’d wanted to come down here to investigate it in the first place. If it was a friend of Cooper’s, then there was nothing to worry about. And if it wasn’t? Oh, she so didn’t want to think about that at the moment.

  “Ready?” He glanced at her as his left hand curled around the brass knob of the parlor door.

  “No.”

  He shot her a wicked grin that quieted her fear and stirred up other, far more interesting things. She nodded jerkily. “Fine. Just open it.”

  He did. Throwing the door wide open, Cooper dragged Kara into the room behind him.

  Instantly, the sobbing stopped.

  Moonlight slanted through the wide front windows, illuminating the tiny room like someone in heaven was focusing a spotlight on the place. Deep shadows crouched in the corners, but when Cooper flicked on the overhead chandelier, they disappeared. Kara and Cooper were alone in the room.

  Loosening his grip on her hand, Cooper stalked around the perimeter of the small, old fashioned parlor. He pulled back the drapes at either side of the windows and even opened an old armoire, as if expecting to find Mike Haney and a tape recorder, crouched inside.

  When he found nothing, he turned around and looked at Kara. “Okay, I admit it, I’m stumped.”

  Kara wandered the room more slowly, touching the little china dog on an end table, smoothing her fingertips across the fringe on a lampshade. Thoughtfully, she asked, “You said the place was haunted, right?”

  Cooper frowned, folded his arms across his chest and watched her. He’d been so sure that either Sam or Mike was at the bottom of this night’s little spook-fest. Hadn’t they all enjoyed scaring the crap out of each other when they were kids? And what better thing to do to a horror writer then give him his very own personal ghost?

  But if his cousin and friend were behind it, where was the proof? Of course, he’d have to give the room a thorough going over in the morning, but at the moment, he couldn’t figure out how that voice was pumped through the whole damn house and then cut off in an instant.

  “Just because I didn’t find Mike hiding in here,” Cooper said, “doesn’t mean there’s a ghost in the house.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She didn’t look convinced. As she wandered around the room, studying the spines of the worn leather books tucked into a bookcase, Cooper studied her. He hadn’t noticed before—now, he couldn’t imagine why not—but, Kara’s sleep ruffled dark brown hair hung in unruly waves to her shoulders. The summery, pale green silk nightgown she wore had thin straps and dipped low across her breasts before skimming a surprisingly taut, tempting body and ending just beneath the curve of her behind. Her legs were bare and her toenails were painted a brilliant scarlet.

  Heat slammed into him and Cooper whooshed out a breath in reaction. His gaze locked on her as she stooped down to inspect a book on a lower shelf and he caught himself hoping she’d simply bend over.

  Man.

  Where the hell had that come from?

  In the five years he’d known and worked with Kara Sloane, Cooper could honestly say he’d never once been slapped with the notion of tossing her over his shoulder and throwing her onto the nearest bed.

  Now, it was the only thought in his fevered mind.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hmm?” He shook his head and scowled even more fiercely when he found her watching him curiously. Great. Could she tell he’d been wondering if she was wearing anything underneath that nightgown? “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “No reason,” she said, in a tone that clearly contradicted her words, “you were just…looking at me weird.”

  He forced a laugh that grated his throat and sounded overly loud. “No I wasn’t.”

  “Yeah, you were.”

  Smooth, Cooper. Really smooth. He stabbed both hands through his hair and gave it a tug while he was at it. Anything to distract him from the thoughts that were now racing uncontrollably through his brain. Kara in that nightgown. Kara out of that nightgown. Geez.

  “Didn’t mean to,” he said with a careless shrug, “it’s just, you look…different.”

  “Different?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts, thereby pushing them high enough to peek over the top of that low scooped neck.

  Cooper felt what was left of the blood in his brain rush southward.

  “Never mind,” he muttered and turned to check all the windows, making sure the latches were closed. Keep busy. Don’t think. Don’t…

  “Different how?”

  He glanced at her over his shoulder and immediately turned back around. She was suddenly looking way too good. And his own body was starting to get very appreciative. “Leave it alone, will ya?”

  “Nope. Different how?” Amusement colored her voice and Cooper winced.

  Sighing, he admitted stiffly, “The nightgown.”

  She chuckled and he turned to look at her, keeping his gaze locked with hers, for his own peace of mind.

  “My nightgown? Honestly, Cooper,” she said, skimming her hands along the silky fabric barely covering her. “It’s not like I’m wearing black lace.”

  Mmm. A picture burst into life in his mind and he enjoyed it far too much.

  “Besides,” she added, “I was sleeping. What? Did you really think I wore high heels to bed?”

  Yet another interesting image filled his brain and left him inwardly groaning. Seriously. Between the weird noises and the new visuals of Kara, he was probably going to be awake all night.

  He blew out a long breath and determinedly shifted the subject away from Kara’s nightgown. “We’re not going to figure out what’s happening tonight and I’m too tired—” translation, horny, “—to talk about this anymore. Let’s just forget about it and go back to sleep.”

  The smile slid off her face as her gaze swept the quiet, empty room. “You think it’ll start up again?”

  “I sincerely hope not,” he muttered and led the way out of the room. He heard her walking behind him, the soft fall of her small bare feet against the floorboards. At the foot of the stairs, he started taking them two at a time. No way was he going to climb those stairs behind Kara.

  The view would kill him.

  The next day, as Kara sat beside Cooper in his enormous SUV, she was still enjoying the sensation of having finally won his attention. However briefly it had lasted. She’d seen his face the night before. Watched him watch her and though she knew nothing would come of it, she’d relished the few moments when he’d looked at her and really seen her.

  Of course it wouldn’t happen again.

  Without the quiet intimacy of a shadow filled house in the middle of the night, everything was back to normal. Cooper, kind but distracted, Kara, wishing things were different.

  He’d avoided her all morning. When he came down for coffee, he’d simply nodded at her, then filled a thermal jug so he wouldn’t have to face her again. She’d heard his fingers flying across the keyboard, but except for that constant sound, whispering in the background, she might as well have been alone in the house. Well, just she and whoever had done all the crying the night before.

  And now, though he was sitting less than a foot away from her, he still wasn’t talking. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on the road and determinedly away from her.

  She simply could not go on like this forever.

  She wanted a man to love her. She wanted children before she was old enough to be a grandmother.

  Slanting a look at him now as he steered his car into the driveway of his grandfather’s ranch, she watched as his features tightened. His dark eyes narrowed and a muscle in his jaw twitched as if he were gritting his teeth.

  What was it? Why was he so reluctant to be here? To see an old man she knew he loved?

  And why wouldn’t he tell her?

  The SUV sailed smoothly over the rutted road with hardly a bump to the occupants. Cooper drove around behind
the edge of the house and parked the car under the shade of a giant tree that looked as though it had been there since the beginning of time.

  Wind scuttled across the open yard, lifting dust and tossing it into tiny tornadoes while it fluttered the laundry dancing on the clothesline. Ancient shade trees lined the property, swaying in that same wind, sliding in from the nearby ocean.

  There was a small guesthouse at the edge of the yard and even from a distance, Kara could see the sunlight glinting off shining window panes. Pansies in shades of deep purple and blue tumbled from a window box near the tidy front porch and a grapevine wreath with a tiny Welcome sign attached hung on the door.

  About a hundred yards from the main house, a barn stood proudly, its double doors standing open, inviting visitors into the cool, shadowy interior.

  But the house itself caught Kara’s attention. It was old and proud and wide. It sprawled across the land like a lazy old man stretched out for a nap. Stone pillars guarded the four corners of the house and bright red and white geraniums crowded the outside edges of the structure. It looked, Kara thought, permanent. Cozy.

  Apparently though, it looked like something else entirely to Cooper. Shutting off the engine, he pulled the keys from the car and jangled them in his palm for a second or two.

  They’d been invited to his grandfather’s house for lunch, but never had a man looked less willing to go inside a relative’s home.

  Finally, Kara asked, “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he said shortly. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered, “because there’s enough tension rolling off of you right now to make diamonds out of charcoal?”

  He sighed and leaned back, unbuckling his seat belt but making no move to get out of the car. Turning his head, he looked at her for the first time that morning. In his eyes, Kara saw a tumult of emotions that appeared and disappeared so quickly, she couldn’t identify them all.

  And for the first time since she’d known him, she was worried about Cooper. There was something here. Something that was tearing at him.