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  She’d become an unofficial part of their little group not just because the rest of them liked her, but because if they hadn’t included her they wouldn’t have seen much of Mac. In fact, the day Mac died, was only one of a handful of days Donna hadn’t been with them. If she had been, maybe things would have been different. Maybe they wouldn’t have waited so long to jump in after him. Maybe…

  Silence stretched out between them as taut as an overextended rubber band as both of them drifted through the past, facing their regrets. Finally, he spoke up again, scrambling for something to say. “I heard you moved out of Coleville right after—”

  Great. Perfect. Nice job, Cooper. Think of something else to say and go right back to that summer. But Donna played along.

  “Yeah. I went to live with my aunt. In Colorado. Stayed there and went to school and now, well…” she shrugged and swept her hair back from her face. “It was time to come home.” She waved one hand at the roses, now dripping water all over the linoleum. “So, hot date?”

  He laughed uneasily. “No. Just trying to find flowers to bring to a…friend.” Friend? Weak word. But what other word would do? Lover? Did one night together make them lovers? Not if Kara was to be believed. She was already trying to find a way to wipe that incident from her memory and his.

  “She’ll love them.”

  “You think?” He stared at them as if expecting them to change color or something. “All women like roses, right?”

  One blond eyebrow lifted. “We’re not interchangeable, Cooper.”

  “I know, I just meant—hell.” He didn’t know what he meant. Never before had he been so at a loss as to how to treat a woman. But Kara was different. She had a place in his life. She was…special.

  Right. So special he didn’t even know if she liked roses or not.

  Well, he could solve that problem at least, he told himself and opened the refrigerated door again. Grabbing up all of the other bouquets, he figured that the one sure way to get Kara’s favorite flower, would be to buy all of them.

  “Making a statement?” she asked, laughing.

  “No,” he said, resisting the idea—even the vague hint of the idea—that he might be trying to win someone’s heart. That wasn’t what this was about. This was about being nice to someone he…cared for. About wanting to make Kara feel a little less crappy. “Just buying too many flowers,” he said firmly.

  From outside, a car horn blasted three or four times in short, impatient bursts. Donna threw a quick look over her shoulder at the wide windows overlooking the street. Then she turned back to Cooper, and said, “It was good to see you, but I’ve really got to run.”

  “Everything okay, Donna?” She looked…nervous all of a sudden.

  “Fine.” She hurried to Mrs. Russell at the cash register. “I hope your friend likes her flowers.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Thoughtfully, he watched her leave the store, and hurry to a pickup truck. There was someone in the passenger seat, but thanks to the sun’s glare on the windshield, Cooper couldn’t make out who it might be.

  Then shaking his head, he told himself to forget about Donna Barrett. Whatever she had going on in her life now, he wished her well. But he had a sick woman at home and he didn’t want to keep her waiting.

  “Six bouquets?” Kara asked, astonished as Cooper carried in the last bunch of purple irises and set them across from her on top of the dresser.

  He shrugged, shoved both hands into the pockets of his black slacks and said, “I didn’t know—” he caught himself and started again. “They were all nice.”

  Kara smiled in spite of the disappointment she felt. Five years of knowing him, working with him every day and he didn’t even know this one small thing about her. “You didn’t know what kind of flowers I like.”

  He frowned and pulled one hand free long enough to stab his fingers through his hair. In a disgusted grumble he admitted, “No, I didn’t. I did know you like flowers, though.”

  “Uh-huh.” Thank God, her stomach had stopped its rumbling and spinning. Otherwise the combined scents of the fresh flowers would have had her running for the bathroom again. Now, it was just giving her a headache.

  But he looked so pleased with himself, it was hard to burst his bubble.

  “It was sweet of you to think of it,” she said finally, trying to let go of her old dreams and see him as he really was. Did it matter that he didn’t know what kind of flower she liked? Wasn’t it more important that he’d thought of the act at all? “Thank you, Cooper.”

  He beamed at her, then reached for the shopping bag he’d dumped unceremoniously at the bedroom door. “I brought these, too. And stared Mrs. Russell, the old bat, right in the eye while I paid for them.”

  “What are you talking ab—” she broke off and smiled as he pulled five magazines from the bag and laid them on the bed beside her. Magazines about fashion and hair and gossip, he’d picked up exactly what he thought a woman would read. “Thanks, they’re great.”

  “So how about soup?” he asked in a coaxing voice, “I bought chicken and stars.”

  “You don’t have to fix my dinner, Cooper. Why don’t you just go out and get something for yourself.”

  “Get something?” He managed to look both proud and insulted. “I bought steaks at the market and I’ll be cooking my own dinner.”

  “Really?”

  “I’m not completely useless, Kara.”

  “I never said useless,” she corrected. “I believe the word I used was hopeless.”

  “Is that right?” He moved around the edge of her bed and straightened the quilt laying over her. “Well, I not only grocery shopped, but I did a couple of loads of laundry—did you know you can overfill a washing machine?”

  “How big a mess was it?”

  “The floors are clean.”

  “Cooper…”

  “And, I even did some ironing.”

  She stared up at him, amazed and just a little sad. “You ironed?”

  “Not for long,” he admitted with a shrug. “The plastic cover on that ironing board in the pantry? Why would they want you to put something hot on a covering that can melt?”

  “You didn’t.”

  “I’ll buy a new iron,” he said, brushing aside his little domestic disaster.

  “Cooper,” Kara said softly, “why are you doing all this? Really.”

  He stopped, looked down at her and gave her one of those smiles that could turn her inside out in a heartbeat. “Because I want to. Now, about that soup?”

  Kara nodded, but didn’t speak because she was just a little bit afraid that her voice might break if she tried. She watched him leave the room and when he was gone, she shifted her gaze to stare up at the late afternoon sunlight playing across the beamed ceiling. The scent of fresh flowers surrounded her and from somewhere in the room came the softest of sighs.

  Not only was Cooper surviving without her…he appeared to be thriving.

  Eight

  “How’re you holding up?” Sam set his medical bag onto the kitchen table and gave his cousin a stern look.

  Morning sunlight shone in the room and Cooper squinted against the brightness while he cupped a full coffee mug between his palms. Lifting it for a sip, he shuddered at the taste and made a mental note to ask Kara again how to brew a decent pot of caffeine.

  “I’m great,” he said tightly, then dropped into a kitchen chair before he fell down. He felt as though he hadn’t slept in weeks. “Now why don’t you tell me about the patient you actually came here to see.”

  Sam shook his head and wandered over to the coffeepot. Grabbing down a cup from the cabinet, he filled the mug, took a sip and grimaced. “How can anybody screw up coffee this badly?”

  “It’s a gift,” Cooper said, bracing one elbow on the table. “How’s Kara?”

  “She’s fine. Probably better than you,” Sam said, leaning back against the counter. “Did I mention that you look like hell?”

  “Thanks.” He took anoth
er gulp of coffee—not because he was getting used to the taste, but because the caffeine was the only thing keeping him awake. “She’s okay? Really?”

  “Yeah. I told you before, it was just the flu.” Sam checked his wristwatch, took another sip of coffee, then choked it down before setting the almost full cup aside. “She’s tired and weak, but she’ll get better. Give her a couple more days to rest up. Keep her on light foods, a bland diet.”

  “Bland I can manage,” Cooper muttered.

  “Maggie would be happy to come over and help you out.”

  “No,” he said. “I can take care of Kara. I want to.”

  “Hmm.” Sam walked to the table, sat down opposite Cooper and stared at him thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. This is just interesting. I’ve never known you to have a domestic side.”

  “Cute.” Cooper leaned back in his chair and said with a choked laugh, “Hell, Sam. I had no idea there was so much to do every day. I don’t know how the hell Kara does it all. She never gets shook. Always has things organized. And never so much as has a nervous breakdown. Seriously, I haven’t been paying her nearly enough money.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that,” Sam mused.

  Cooper didn’t even hear him. “I’ve spent so much time on the phone, dealing with my editor and agent and publicist, not to mention trying to get Kara to eat some soup and do laundry without flooding the place, I haven’t written a word in two days.”

  “Or slept?”

  Wryly, Cooper smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been sitting in a chair beside Kara in case she wakes up and needs something.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sam shifted in his seat, threw one arm across the back of the chair and smiled to himself.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” Cooper told him, “forget it.”

  Sam drummed the fingers of his left hand against the tabletop. “Okay. If you don’t want to talk about Kara, then why don’t we talk about you?”

  Cooper groaned inwardly. He was in no shape to be analyzed and Sam definitely had that “look” in his eyes. The look that said, I know what your problem is and I have the solution.

  “Sam,” Cooper said softly, “take pity on an exhausted man. Give me a break.”

  “You’ve been here for a few weeks now,” Sam said softly, completely ignoring Cooper’s plea. “As far as I know, you still haven’t been out to the lake.”

  Cooper’s grip tightened on the handle of the mug until his knuckles went white. Fatigue pulled at him, but he stiffened despite the slump in his shoulders. “No, I haven’t. Don’t plan to, either.”

  Sam looked disappointed, somehow. “Damn it, Cooper. You can’t keep hiding from that day.”

  Something squirmed in his guts and Cooper fought the urge to shift uncomfortably in his chair. “It’s worked for me this long.”

  “You’re here,” Sam said quietly. “You came all the way to Coleville. Why not take it the rest of the way?”

  “I came for Jeremiah’s sake. I’m not here to relive the past.” Deliberately, Cooper released his grip on the coffee mug and sat back in his chair. “I was in town the other day,” he said, noting that Sam looked irritated by the change of subject. “I saw Donna.”

  “Barrett?” Surprised, Sam stared at him for a long minute. “I didn’t know she was in town.”

  “Apparently, she’s moved back.”

  “How’s she look?”

  “Good. But that’s not my point,” Cooper said, pushing his coffee cup away from him and leaning both forearms on the table as if he couldn’t quite hold himself up straight in the chair without support. “I saw her and instantly, my mind went back to that summer. I could feel the sun. Smell the ocean.” He sighed. “Hell, Sam, I could have sworn I actually heard Mac laugh. It was all so close. Just by seeing Donna.”

  “Cooper…”

  He looked into Sam’s eyes and shook his head solemnly. “No. I buried the past, Sam. And I’m going to keep it buried.”

  Sam watched him for a few long seconds then sighed. “It’s not buried, Cooper. It’s with you every damn day. And until you face it—face Mac—you’ll never really be free of it.”

  After Sam had gone, Cooper sat alone in the sun drenched kitchen and felt cold pressing in on him. Whether it was the ghost in the house or the ghosts in his own mind, Cooper acknowledged the truth. He didn’t deserve to be free of the past.

  He deserved to be haunted.

  Kara pushed herself weakly into a sitting position against the pillows propped up on the headboard of the bed. She was finally starting to feel alive again. Barely. At least her stomach had stopped churning every few minutes. But she also felt like a slug. She hadn’t even been able to work up the energy to crawl into the shower.

  “How you feeling?”

  She snapped a look at the doorway. Cooper stood there, leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb. Hands in his pockets, one foot crossed over the other, he looked tired. And impossibly good.

  The last couple of days had been so hard. Not only feeling like death, but being so close to him. Having Cooper sit up at her side all through the night and knowing that he wasn’t doing it because he loved her, but because he felt he owed her.

  He pushed away from the door and walked toward her slowly. Kara grabbed at the quilt covering her and pulled it up higher, covering her chest, wanting to pull it up over her head. She knew what she must look like. She’d caught a brief glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror earlier and had yelped in fright.

  “Kara?” He waved one hand back and forth in front of her face. “You’re zoning again.”

  “I didn’t zone. I’m in a coma.”

  “Pretty chatty for a coma.”

  “Was there a reason for this visit?”

  Twin black eyebrows lifted. “Should you still be this crabby now that you’re getting better?”

  “Cooper…”

  “Relax. I only came to see if you felt well enough to try a shower.”

  She blinked at him, trying to dislodge a sudden, extremely clear image of the two of them, naked, wrapped together under a stream of hot water. His hands, slick with soap, sliding over her body, dipping between her legs, stroking, while his mouth…

  “Kara?”

  She came up out of the fantasy and gave herself a mental kick. Oh, sleeping with him had been a big mistake. Now she knew what she’d be missing for the rest of her life. And in her heart, she knew damn well there wasn’t another man alive who would ever compare to Cooper Lonergan.

  But the simple truth was, he wasn’t hers and never would be. Might as well get used to that fact.

  “I heard you,” she said and threw the quilt back. Cool air hit her bare legs and she shivered. “And the answer is yes. I’m definitely willing to give it a try.”

  “Hey, not so fast,” he cautioned, moving in to grab one of her arms as she jumped to her feet.

  “I’m fine,” she said, “I can do this myself—” She swayed unsteadily and leaned into his hard, muscled chest. The room did a nasty little tilt and she closed her eyes to steady herself. “Okay,” she acknowledged a few seconds later, “maybe I could use a little help.”

  “You’ve been flat on your back for nearly three days, Kara.” He wrapped one arm around her waist and Kara could have sworn she felt five separate stabs of heat from each of his fingers.

  “You haven’t had any food in your system,” he reminded her. “So take it easy until you get your strength back, okay?”

  His voice was tight, and she was pretty sure she heard his heart pounding out a frantic rhythm. Kara wasn’t sure if it was worry or desire causing the jump in his blood pressure but decided to go with worry. Since that thought was less likely to break her heart.

  Patting his chest, she straightened up, backing out of his embrace and then took a single step, wishing her legs didn’t feel quite so wet-noodley. Her head spun crazily and her vision went a little fluffy at the edges.

  “Whoa. Interesting sens
ation,” she whispered just before Cooper scooped her up into his arms.

  “Okay, we’ll do this another way.” He cradled her close and Kara indulged herself. Laying her head on his shoulder, she inhaled the scent of him—soap, shampoo and the spicy zing of his aftershave.

  Her stomach wobbled, but it had nothing to do with the flu. It was simply the effect Cooper had on her. Only now, it was worse than ever before because she knew what it was to have him inside her. To feel his mouth on her skin, his hands on her body. She knew the shattering sensation of climaxes rippling through her system and the brush of his breath against her neck.

  And oh, she wanted it all again.

  Even knowing that it was going nowhere.

  That he would never love her.

  She wanted him so much, everything in her yearned.

  “You okay?” he whispered, his breath dusting the top of her head.

  “Yeah,” she insisted firmly. “Just a little light-headed is all.”

  He left the bedroom, walked down the hall and stepped into the bathroom. The walls were a cool green and the old tile floor was laid in a pattern of green-and-white checks.

  “You want me to help you?” he asked as he set her down onto her feet.

  “No,” she said, though her mind was screaming yes! No point in making this even harder on herself. Her shower fantasy burst once again into full bloom in her brain, and the images it produced left her nearly breathless with a hunger that shook her right down to her bones. But she steeled herself against it, and met his gaze squarely. “I’ll be fine.”

  He didn’t look as if he believed her. But still, he backed up toward the door. “I’ll be close if you need me. I’m gonna change the sheets on the bed.”

  Kara blinked. “You are?”

  Scowling, Cooper said, “You know, I wish you’d quit looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m performing a miracle or something whenever I do something around here. I am capable of a few things.”

  She smiled at his insulted tone and tried to smooth his ruffled feelings. “Of course you are, it’s just—”