“We really,” I hurry to say—because I have a feeling I’m not going to like where this conversation is headed—“don’t have to talk about this. In fact, I have an idea. Let’s just go to bed. We’ve both had a really long, hard day. Let’s sleep on it. Let’s not say anything we might regret.”
“I’m not going to regret saying this,” Cooper says.
I do tear my gaze from Garfield at that.
“You have a concussion,” I insist, checking his pupils for evenness. The EMT told me to do that. They look even enough. But how can I be sure? “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“Heather.” To my surprise, he seizes both my hands in his. His gaze, on mine, is steady. Both his pupils look precisely even. “I don’t have a concussion. I know exactly what I’m saying. Something I should have said a long time ago.”
Oh God. Seriously. Why me? Has my day not been bad enough? I mean, really. Someone shot at me. A big orange cat named Garfield bit me. Why do I have to be rejected by the man I love as well?
“Cooper,” I say. “Really. Can’t we just—”
“No,” Cooper says firmly. “I know I said I didn’t want to be your rebound guy. And when I said it, I meant it. But I didn’t expect you to go out and find a rebound guy who was so—”
“Look,” I say, wincing. “I know. Okay? But—”
“—perfect,” Cooper concludes.
I blink up at him, thinking I’ve heard him wrong. “Wait.What? ”
“I mean, I never expected him to ask you to move in with him,” Cooper bursts out. “Or that you’d say yes!”
“I–I didn’t!” I cry.
Cooper’s grip on my hands becomes very tight all of a sudden.
“Wait. You didn’t?” His gaze on mine is intent. His pupils, I note, are still even in size. “Then when you were talking to Tad tonight—”
My mouth has suddenly gone dry. Maybe, I’m starting to think, my day won’t end up being that bad after all.
“I turned him down,” I tell him. I don’t bother explaining to him just what, precisely, Tad asked me to do that I turned down. He doesn’t need to know that.
“What about your dad?” Cooper asks slowly. “The thing with Larry?”
“I turned that down, too,” I say. My heart has started doing something crazy inside my chest. I’m not sure what. But I think it’s the cha-cha. “Cooper, I don’t want to move in with Tad—he’s not perfect, by the way. Far from it. In fact… we broke up tonight. And I don’t want a new recording career. I love my job. I love living here, with you. Everything since I moved in here has been so great. I like things exactly the way they are. In fact, when I was getting shot at earlier, and I thought I was going to die, I was thinking how much I don’t want anything to change—”
“Yeah,” Cooper says. “Well, I wish I could say the same. Because I’m ready for a change.”
Then he lets go of my hands and grabs my waist instead.
And before I can say anything more, he pulls me toward him and brings his mouth down—quite possessively, I might add—over mine.
A lot of thoughts go through my head right then. Mainly, I’m thinking,Whoa. I’m kissing Cooper. I can’t believe it, really. I mean, all these months that I’ve had a crush on him, and never dreamed he might return my feelings.
And all it took to get him to admit it was dating my vegan killer Frisbee—playing math professor.
Oh, and nearly getting myself killed multiple times.
But who’s counting?
Cooper seems pretty serious about this kissing thing, too. When he starts kissing a girl—well, me, anyway—he doesn’t mess around. He gets busy right away with the pressing his body up against mine very determinedly, and the molding me to him. Also with the tongue.Excellent tongue action. I’m impressed. I’m more than impressed. I’m melting, is what I’m doing. I feel like a DoveBar that’s been left out of the refrigerated case too long. I’m going all soft and gooey.
In fact, by the time Cooper lets me up for air, my hard chocolate shell is completely gone, and I’m just a big limp mess.
And I love it.
“In case I haven’t made it obvious,” Cooper says, in a slightly breathless voice, looking down at me with pupils that are most definitely completely even in size, “I think you should move in.”
“Cooper, I already live with you,” I point out.
“I mean, really move in with me. Downstairs. My place, not yours.”
“You’d have to start putting your stuff away,” I say, examining the very interesting way his five o’clock shadow disappears down the collar of his shirt. “No more fast-food wrappers in the office.”
“Fine,” he says. “Well, then no more investigating murders until you have your criminal justice degree. I was thinking October’s a nice month to get married.”
“Okay,” I say. Then I look up from my inspection of what’s going on down his shirt. “Wait.What? ” I think my heart has stopped doing the cha-cha and started doing something a bit more complicated. Like something that is going to require defibrillation. “Did you say—”
“Elope, I mean,” Cooper corrects himself. “I hate weddings. But I’ve always liked the Cape in October. Not as many tourists.”
“Elope?” I’m in serious need of a paper bag. I can barely breathe. I think I might be hyperventilating.
“Unless you don’t want to,” Cooper says quickly, apparently noting my stunned expression. “I mean, we can take it slow if you want. But considering the Tad factor, I figured I better—”
“Eloping is fine,” I say quickly. I can’t believe I haven’t misheard him. He meant it. He actually meant it. Our joint detective agency—the one I always fantasized about—Wells-Cartwright Investigations… not to mention our three kids—Jack, Emily, and baby Charlotte! — they might actually come to exist someday… someday soon!
Oh my God. I really am going to hyperventilate.
Wait. No, I’m not. I’m not because this is just so… so… perfect.
I can barely contain my smile. Then I realize I don’t have to.
“Eloping is a great idea!” I gush. “Can we invite my dad?”
“If you insist,” Cooper says grudgingly.
“And Frank and Patty?”
He rolls his eyes. “Why not? The more, the merrier.”
“And Tom and Steve? They’d be really hurt if we didn’t invite them. So would Sarah. And Sebastian, if she’s still seeing him. And Magda. And Pete, too. His daughters would make cute flower girls.”
“Heather. If we have that many people, it won’t be an elopement. It will be a wedding. And I hate weddings.”
“It’ll be okay,” I say. “As long as your parents and my mother aren’t there. We have to have witnesses anyway.”
“In that case,” Cooper says, “it’s a deal.”
“And I think we should keep the cat,” I say.
“What cat?” Then Cooper sighs. “Oh, that cat. Fine. Just so long as we don’t have to call him Garfield.”
“I know,” I say, grinning. “Let’s call him Owen.”
“After your boss?”
“Yeah. Since in a way, his death is what finally brought us together.”
“I can assure you,” Cooper says, “that that is categorically untrue.”
“Whatever you say. Can we kiss some more now?”
“That’s the best idea you’ve had all night,” he says.
After a while, still kissing, we move out into the hallway, where we knock over a lot of the picture frames Cooper’s grandfather left behind after he died. So then we move out into the front hallway, near the stairs leading to the second floor, where we run into real danger of falling over, especially since we’re both shirtless and some of us have lost our pants.
“No,” I say without elaborating why, when Cooper suggests that making love for the first time on the hallway runner wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “It really would.”
We make it upstairs to his room.
But barely.
23
You opened my eyes
Now I can finally see
What it is
You’ve always seen in me
“Happy Song”
Written by Heather Wells