Twice the Temptation--A twin pregnancy romance Page 5

  The door opened and two giggling girls breezed in. They stopped dead, staring, gazes darting between the occupants. Coop groaned inwardly.

  “I do believe that’s our cue to skedaddle,” Britt announced. “I’m not sure of the decorating scheme in the men’s room, but surely there’s a chair in there you can occupy while you sulk.”

  She was out the door before Cooper could say anything to stop her. The two girls parted like the Red Sea, though their gazes remained fixed on him and Bridge. Working his jaw gingerly, he sat up with only a little assistance from his brother.

  “Don’t mind us, ladies,” Bridge announced as he hauled Coop to his feet.

  Jolie insisted Coop keep the ice pack on his face and she pushed up under his shoulder. Still seeing more stars than he was comfortable with, he leaned on Bridger, too, as soon as they were out the door. Once his vision cleared, he searched the hallway for Britt. She’d disappeared. His brother and Jolie, followed by Cord, steered him toward a small sitting area in an alcove and settled him into one of the chairs.

  “You were supposed to keep people out, Cord,” Jolie scolded. “Especially people of the female variety.”

  “Like some random guy is going to push his way into the ladies’ room?” Cord did an exaggerated eye roll. “My cousins being the exception to that rule. What went on in there and why are you not chasing the storm chaser? She’s hot. Also, what the hell, cuz? You’re having a baby?”

  Jolie glared at Cord while speaking to Coop. “Keep the ice on your face, Cooper. I will be keeping track.” She turned on her heel and crooked a finger at her husband. Cord followed willingly.

  Bridger waited until the couple was out of earshot before dropping into the chair next to Cooper. “She’s bad news, big bro.”

  “You don’t even know her.”

  “Nope. Just what I’ve seen of her on TV. But I’ve got good instincts and my gut says she’s going to bring you nothing but trouble.”

  Before he could argue, Bridge continued. “I know what went on down in Beaumont. I know what you’ve been like since you got home.”

  “You don’t have a—”

  “Dude, she left you. Twice.”

  Five

  Cooper scowled at his brother’s retreating back. Technically, Bridger was correct. Britt had ditched him without saying goodbye. Twice. After they’d made love. Well, maybe not...love. Wild monkey sex. Still, it was the best sex he’d ever had and there was something about the damn woman that aroused all sorts of deep-seated feelings inside him. She was bold and beautiful.

  If his face didn’t hurt so bad, he’d bang his forehead on the side table. Wasn’t that the name of some soap opera his mom watched? He didn’t have time for drama. He worked for a living. And Bridge was right. While he wasn’t the ladies’ man of the Barron-Tate clan, he didn’t have to sit home twiddling his thumbs because the object of his affection chose to ignore him. There were plenty of fish in the sea. Only he didn’t want tuna. He wanted filet mignon. His stomach chose that moment to growl. Not surprising since he’d been too busy watching Britt to eat much. He vaguely remembered beef. And potatoes. Yeah, he was hungry.

  For Britt. The remembered taste of her settled on his tongue. What was it about her that heated his blood? Bold and beautiful, he reminded himself. There was something about her nerdy glasses, the scientific language. Who knew that a one-sided discussion of quasi linear convective systems made for good pillow talk?

  And now this whole crazy allegation that he’d impregnated some girl. His accuser had been arrested and hauled off in handcuffs. What was Britt thinking? He wasn’t reckless when it came to unprotected sex. Denver Tate had drilled that lesson into his sons’ heads over and over. No condom, no sex. He didn’t lose control and forget.

  Britt probably thought he was a total bastard. Given the circumstances, he couldn’t blame her. He closed his eyes and rubbed at his sore jaw. Then again, why would she care? She’d gotten out of his bed and walked away. Twice.

  “Idiot,” he muttered, before his thoughts were interrupted by a burst of applause. They were announcing the silent auction winners. Crap. He’d meant to fix his mother’s bid. Too late now. He sighed, resigned to dealing with his mother when the time came to chase tornadoes with Britt. He considered slinking out of the museum and taking himself home. Bridger could give their mother a ride to her house when the event was over.

  Reaching up, he tugged on his bolo tie and undid the collar button strangling him. He shifted the ice pack, not quite ready to abandon its cold comfort. Yeah. He’d go to his truck, text his brother and head home. That was a good plan. Right after he put Britt Owens out of his mind.

  Coop heaved out of the chair and glanced around, furtive in his movements. If any of his family lurked about, his plan would fall apart. The coast was clear. He slipped outside into the cool autumn air and paused, inhaling deeply. Beyond the entrance portico, glittering stars scattered across the night sky. Something eased in his chest. He was a country boy at heart. When it came to life in the big city with tall buildings, bright lights and traffic, sometimes it was hard to breathe but clear, crisp nights like this one helped him cope.

  He headed across the parking lot toward his truck and stopped dead. Right in front of him, wrapped in decals touting KOCX TV’s weather team, sat Britt’s chase truck. Fate had to be working overtime. Or karma was about to rise up and bite him in the butt. He could just keep walking, get in his truck and drive away. Or, he could admit that Britt had gotten under his skin and he wanted her like he’d never wanted another woman.

  His dad had taught his sons another important lesson. Don’t be a quitter. Britt’s actions had bruised his ego. He could admit that. But he wasn’t a quitter. And he didn’t run away. Time to make a stand.

  Leaning against the push bars on the front bumper of Britt’s chase vehicle, he settled in to wait. He was taking a big gamble but if things worked out, he’d reap a reward that would make everything worth it. There was just something about the woman that made him want to risk everything to keep her.

  Unable to get her out of his head for the last three months, he’d been plotting ways to cross her path. In retrospect, the series of unfortunate events tonight leading up to him laid out in the women’s lounge with Britt for company was a good thing. And yeah, he was probably a pathetic excuse for a single guy but he didn’t care. The woman checked off every item on his list. Until he got her out of his system, he’d continue being in danger of losing his man card.

  Better to confront the situation head-on. Even better would be getting his hands and mouth on her again. Things stirred inside him. This was nothing serious. Just chemistry. And just until he got bored with her. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

  * * *

  “Stupid shoes,” Britt groused as she switched heels for the flip-flops she’d stashed in her evening bag. Her feet and ankles were swollen and sore. Holding her skirts off the floor, she headed for the exit with one thought in mind: get home. Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. And if she stopped to think about it, her heart hurt far more than it should. She knew what she had to do to be fair but after that scene tonight? How could she share her news with Cooper?

  A few people spoke to her as she walked outside and she waved at them without speaking. No time for conversations. If she got detoured, Cooper might find her. Or not. Was he even looking for her? She didn’t want to see him. Nope. Not at all. So why was she feeling depressed that he hadn’t hunted her down?

  “On the fence much?” she muttered to herself as she arrived at the asphalt parking lot. Some sixth sense had her raising her head to peer into the spotty shadows. A figure leaned against the front of her truck. A tall, lean figure, with booted feet crossed to match those arms across his muscled chest. Her idiotic heart fluttered with excitement. He had tracked her down. But she wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not yet. Not until she found out more about that g
uy who’d ambushed Cooper. And the guy’s pregnant sister. Because at the moment, no matter how much he set her heart on fire, if he was guilty as charged? No. She couldn’t think about that other woman. She had to keep her wits about her to deal with him.

  “Howdy, Girl Wonder.” Why did his deep drawl have to sound so sexy? And why did it send shivers through all the feminine places in her body?

  “Fancy meeting you here, Hero Boy.” She wanted to kick herself for falling so effortlessly into their familiar flirting.

  “I keep tellin’ you, I’m not a boy.”

  She tilted her chin up and watched him through half-lowered lashes. “Coulda fooled me.” She waited a beat then added, “Quite a scene tonight.”

  Did he blush? “I have no clue what that guy was talking about.”

  “Of course you don’t.” Sarcasm. Good. She could use sarcasm.

  “You don’t believe me.” He gazed up at the stars. “Of course you don’t.”

  Interesting. He could do sarcasm too. Good to know.

  Cooper shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. “Look, this happens.”

  ‘What? You being accused of—”

  “Yes.” He cut her off. “People accuse my cousins and us of all sorts of things.”

  She knew that, yet she’d still been quick to judge.

  “And due to those kinds of accusations, we are always extremely careful.”

  Not careful enough, she mused.

  When he lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, she didn’t back away. He stepped closer, lowered his head.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered against her lips.

  She didn’t fight him when he deepened the kiss. She should have, but truth be told, she’d missed him too. “What are you doing?” she murmured against his mouth. He didn’t answer, not in words, but he pulled her closer, claiming her with the heat of his body and intensity of his kiss.

  “Taking you home,” he finally replied.

  “This is my truck and I’m perfectly able to drive.”

  “Let me rephrase that. I’m taking you home with me.”

  Her brain processed his statement. Home with him? To his house? Cooper was trouble. She was walking and talking proof of that. And in all probability, he was somebody’s baby daddy. Somebody else’s baby daddy. And that thought hurt far more than it should, given the circumstances. She didn’t know him. Didn’t have a claim on him. Didn’t want one. Nope.

  Then he kissed her again. Every bit of good sense she possessed skipped out on her, like some carefree girl tromping through the tulips. She kissed him back, her arms snaking around his neck.

  “Please,” he murmured against her ear. “Come home with me.”

  They could talk there, with no one around to hear or see them. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not with this other accusation hanging over his head but things still needed to be said.

  Listening to her heart instead of her head, she agreed. Still, she was not going to be stuck without a ride. “Okay, but I’m driving.”

  “We’ll take your truck but I’m driving. You don’t know where I live.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Keys?”

  She dug in her clutch muttering about alpha males but she handed them over. He beeped the locks and helped her into the passenger seat. Before she could have second thoughts, the man who stole all her good intentions with a look was in the driver’s seat. They didn’t go far. Out of the parking lot, along 63rd Street, and a quick left onto a private drive with an electronic gate. The drive curved through trees and then opened up to a broad lawn. Perched atop a low hill, the house was a complete surprise with its buff-colored native stacked stone and metal roof gleaming beneath the moon.

  Cooper parked, was out, and had the passenger door open. Too late to change her mind. The interior of his house was just as impressive as the exterior.

  “You want a drink?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  A grin that quirked one corner of his mouth. “As I recall, you’re very good.”

  He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a frosty bottle of water from the fridge. He took a moment to open it and drink deeply.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he finally said.

  Her hand convulsively curved around her stomach. There was no possible way but she nodded.

  “Look, Britt. I’m a Tate and two of my brothers are country music stars. I’m also a Barron on my mom’s side. That means money. A lot of it. False paternity suits are a thing.”

  “And I should believe you?”

  “Yes.” He looked so earnest. “My dad raised us to be responsible. I haven’t been—” He cut off whatever he was about to say. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

  Deep down, and for obvious reasons, she wanted to believe him. He slowly walked toward her, setting the bottle down on the bar as he passed it.

  “I’ve missed you, Girl Wonder.”

  Then his arms were around her and he was kissing her again. She pushed against his chest and broke the kiss, studying his face.

  “I’m not the love ’em and leave ’em type, Britt.”

  He wasn’t. She knew that on a level that scared her just a bit.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?”

  How could she refuse? And why would she want to. She kissed him, just a brush of her lips across his. “Okay.”

  He led her into a very masculine, very Cooper bedroom. A wall of windows looked out over the lights of Oklahoma City. The massive bed was dark wood with padded leather head and footboards. She could get lost in that bed.

  He was kissing her again, his hands caressing her sides and back, her arms. She was suddenly too hot but goose bumps prickled her skin. She pulled at his shirt but it barely came untucked. He continued to kiss her while he stripped out of his tux jacket and vest. Then she heard cloth ripping and small pings. Had he ripped his shirt open?

  Strong fingers found the zipper of her dress and in moments, it lay in a billowing pile around her feet. He picked her up and laid her down gently on the bed. Then Cooper was lying beside her, his hands and mouth roaming over her body.

  Britt knew in her head that she should stop this but the chemistry between them short-circuited her logic, because her heart? Yeah, her heart wanted what was about to happen. So did her body. Surrendering to the inevitable, she turned into him and pushed the shirt off his shoulders before busying herself with his belt and trousers.

  Just like the other times they’d been together, they were naked in no time at all. The man knew precisely how to tease her with his hands and his mouth; knew the exact places to touch and kiss and suck to send her flying hard and fast over the edge.

  Now it was her turn. With a touch here, a kiss there, she had him flying. He groaned and before she could react, he’d flipped them so he was on top. He spread her legs and his sexy, half-lidded eyes drank her in. Then he was sliding inside her.

  She shuddered around him, clutching at his shoulders as he pushed deep. “Yes,” she murmured. “Oh, yes, please.”

  * * *

  What seemed like hours later, groggy and sated, she snuggled in with her head and half her body draped across his muscular torso. Cooper had just enough hair on his chest to pet and her fingertips ruffled through the dark, copper-colored wisps. Her muscles felt like butter left in the sun and she could barely keep her eyes open. She wasn’t spending the night. Doing so was dangerous. Tears prickled behind her lids and she cursed her volatile emotions. She had to get a grip. Her life was about to get even crazier. Coop deserved an explanation but she just wasn’t ready especially in light of the things he’d said earlier. Despite her mixed feelings, his steady heartbeat beneath her ear and the rise and fall of his chest made her feel safe. I’ll rest for just a minute, she decided. Until I’m sure he’s asleep. Then I’ll go.

  * * *

  Brit
t blinked awake. How long had she been asleep? Beyond the windows, night lightened to the dove gray of predawn. The man beside her snored softly. Good. He was still asleep. Time to go. Easing out of bed, she located her clothes—draped over a large leather armchair next to the bed. She didn’t bother with anything but the dress. Undergarments could wait. She noticed one set of windows was actually a French door. She could slip outside and go directly to the driveway where her truck was parked.

  Hesitating, she glanced back at the bed. The sleeping man lay on his back, one arm stretched to the side. The arm, she realized, that she’d been sleeping on. His hair was tousled and scruff shadowed his jaw and cheeks. He looked so handsome, so... No. Britt shook those thoughts right out of her head—literally. Cooper Tate was not hers. Not that she’d want him. She didn’t need a man and while some female might try to trap a man, she wasn’t that woman. Not after the accusations of the previous evening. Her heart believed his explanation. Her head? Nope. Her head was such a pessimist.

  She now regretted shaking her head. She was already feeling too queasy for her peace of mind. She would not throw up here. It was time to make her escape. As she eased the door closed behind her, she couldn’t resist taking one last look at the man who might have been hers. Under different circumstances, in a different time and place.

  She’d have to talk to him eventually—tell him—but not today. Not after last night. Squaring her shoulders, she turned away, resolute. Time to go.

  * * *

  Cooper didn’t move, didn’t open his eyes, as he listened for the sound that had first awakened him. The weight on his chest moved. But it wasn’t Britt, it was the damn cat.

  The bed beside him was still warm. Maybe the noise was Britt in the bathroom. He waited for her to come back to bed. After a few minutes with no further sound, he glowered at Lucifer until the cat moved, then threw off the covers and stalked to the en suite bathroom. It was empty. Nothing had been touched. The sink was dry. Weird. He availed himself of the facilities before heading back to the bedroom. He rummaged in his dresser for a pair of boxers then looked around.