Jilted Page 7

  "That was not fucking cool," I growl at her, and the smile slides off her face.

  "Come on, Coop," Ashley says in a small voice. "Don't be that way with me. You know what she--"

  "That was completely uncalled for," I snap at her. "You need to grow the fuck up, Ash."

  "But, baby," she whines, and it makes my skin crawl. I ignore her and turn for the door, letting my long legs eat up the distance between Eden and me.

  As soon as I exit Tilley's, I see her across the street getting into her rental car.

  "Eden," I call out to her.

  Her head whips my way, and because it's still light out, I can clearly see the tears in her eyes. It makes my chest constrict painfully, but she doesn't even stop. She jumps into the car, turns it on, and jets out of her parking spot.

  "Christ," I mutter, and turn in the opposite direction, running for my truck, which is parked two blocks down.

  I cannot believe fucking Ashley said that shit to Eden. I get she's jealous, and I get that a lot of people in this town feel like Eden's a rotten person, but, Jesus...let it the fuck go. I know I have, and any hard feelings I've got for her stem from the failure of our relationship, not from the person she's grown into.

  In fact, I feel sort of sad that she is the way she is, because while Ashley may have been rude, she was very much right about Eden. Everyone in this town has seen it firsthand, and no one can deny she's self-centered and selfish.

  Which makes me wonder why in the fuck I'm even chasing her back to Goodnight House. I could have stayed at Tilley's, gotten drunk with Clay, and then fucked Ashley afterward. It would have been a typical Friday night for me.

  The trip from town center in Newberry to Goodnight House takes less than ten minutes, and because I'm driving like a bat out of hell, I can see Eden's brake lights come on in front of the house just as I'm turning into the driveway. By the time I pull my truck to a stop behind her car and jump out, she's unlocking the front door.

  I'm completely surprised when she spares the time to look over her shoulder at me as she's entering the house and yells, "Just stay the hell away from me, Coop. I'm packing up and I'll be out of here soon."

  She runs into the house.

  "Goddamn it," I curse under my breath, and run after her. The thought of her leaving is not setting well with me and I have no fucking clue why, but I go with my instincts and hunt her down.

  She's flying up the staircase as I hit the front door, and I take the stairs two at a time.

  When she gets to the top and turns to the right for the master suite, she comes to a complete and sudden halt.

  So sudden I can't quite stop in time and I barrel into her. My arms go around her waist as I push her forward, keeping her from flying into the wall. Eden grunts as if I knocked the wind out of her, but then immediately shakes herself out of my hold. I let her go but she doesn't move.

  She just stares at the hall floor before finally mumbling, "What did you do? Did you throw the rest of my clothes out the window too?"

  The hall floor is completely bare and cleaned up, and I could understand given our joint tantrums today why she'd think I'd throw her clothes out the window. Instead, I take her by the elbow and guide her into the master suite. I let her go when we reach the middle of the room, but continue walking to the closet. I open the door, sweep my hand to it, and watch as her gaze drifts that way.

  Her eyes widen as she surveys all of her clothes hung neatly in the closet. She whirls around and sees the rose-colored comforter with cream flowers on the bed.

  She whips back to face me and I almost laugh at the look of genuine confusion on her face, but sadly, this really isn't all that funny. "I don't understand."

  "You can have the master suite," I tell her. "I decided to be an adult. This was your house long before it was mine."

  Eden shakes her head. "No, it's okay. You should have stayed in here."

  Well, aren't we playing nice together? "No, I insist."

  "I'm leaving, Coop," she says firmly, and marches past me to the closet and pulls out her large suitcase. "This was stupid to come here."

  "Don't," I say as I easily pull the suitcase away from her. "You're upset. Stay the night at least, and if you want to leave tomorrow you can."

  I can tell she's conflicted. She doesn't grab the suitcase, but she doesn't accept my offer either. Her spine stays stiff and her eyes are guarded.

  Eden's voice is so very small, something I've never heard from her before, when she says, "I don't get it. Why does everyone hate me? Because I left Newberry and didn't come back?"

  My body jerks a little over the naivete of Eden's question. Surely she can understand people's feelings. "Eden...after what you did...people are still pissed about that. I don't think that's going to be easily forgiven."

  "What I did?" she cries out in pure confusion, throwing her arms wide in exasperation. "I left Newberry. I became a famous actress. Why is that a crime?"

  "Eden--"

  "Or is it because we broke up?" she asks in a voice so serious I know she thinks that's really a possibility. "Is the town mad at me because our relationship failed?"

  "Eden--"

  "Because if so," she says in a rush, anger tinging her voice, "that's fucked up. You and I ended things mutually."

  "I know," I agree. "But--"

  "Then what the hell did I supposedly do?" she pleads.

  And I get angry too over her refusal to accept responsibility for her selfishness.

  "Because of what you did after the fire," I snap at her.

  Eden jerks backward and she blinks at me slowly. Her head tilts slightly and her tone is cautious. "The fire that killed your dad?"

  I roll my eyes. "That's the one."

  "But I didn't even know," she says quietly, her brows furrowed deep. "Not until Missy told me this afternoon."

  "Now that's not true, Eden," I admonish her, but not too harshly. There's something about her complete confusion that's throwing me off a little. She either clearly has forgotten what happened, she didn't know, which seems impossible to me, or she's just that damn good of an actress.

  "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Coop." She lifts her chin and stares me down. "I didn't know your dad died in a fire until today."

  "Eden," I say softly. "The town council, which I sit on, wrote to you after. We requested money to help rebuild the part of the school that was destroyed and erect a memorial for my dad. It wasn't my idea, but I went along with it. I mean...we figured you were rich beyond measure and it would be a nice charitable donation you'd want to make, given you went to that school and knew my dad."

  Eden started shaking her head in denial at about the time I said we requested money from her. "I didn't get any request from the town council here."

  And fuck if she doesn't sound completely adamant.

  "But you sent money," I point out. "Five hundred dollars to be exact."

  Eden gasps and looks completely offended. "If I knew you needed to rebuild the school and put up a memorial to your dad--a man who I greatly admired and cared for--you can bet I would have sent a fuck of a lot more money than five hundred dollars."

  And it hits me all at once. She's telling the honest-to-God's truth. That look on her face, her vehemence and offense over this. She has no clue what I'm talking about.

  "Then who sent the money?" I ask in bewilderment.

  Eden turns away from me, wrapping one arm around her stomach and bringing her opposite hand to her mouth to nibble on her fingernail. She always did that when she was thinking. She takes a few paces away from me, pauses, and then turns back staring hard at the floor.

  Finally, her gaze comes up and her eyes are filled with misery. "I'm going to have to ask my business manager, Colleen. She manages the staff that screens my mail."

  I don't even know what to say. There's been a lot of hard feelings for Eden floating around this town. When word got out that she donated only five hundred dollars, it swept through the town like wildfi
re and she became a pariah. I had a hard time reconciling the sweet, caring Eden I'd known with the Eden that I believed basically thumbed her nose at our town's pain.

  And yeah, it was little more personal to me, since it was my dad who died.

  "I'm sorry," I tell her bluntly as I step forward and take her by the shoulders. "I hate that people thought something about you that wasn't true."

  "You thought it too," she says bitterly, turning her face away from me.

  I take her chin and turn it back so she meets my eyes. "Yeah...I did. And I'm sorry for that as well. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt, but honestly, Eden...you were a stranger to me by then."

  She nods in understanding and swallows hard. Pulling away from me, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before folding her arms protectively over her stomach. "I get it. I'd think the same thing too about me if only five hundred dollars showed up after something so horrible. But, um...you know...I could donate money now. Maybe I could build a new school or something."

  I shake my head. "Eden...it's fine. I'll set the record straight and you don't have to do anything else."

  A halfhearted smile graces her beautiful face but it doesn't reach her eyes. She nods and drops her eyes again. "Listen...I'm beat and I think I'm going to go to bed now. In the morning--"

  "Come on," I interrupt her. "Let's go make some pancakes."

  "Excuse me?" she says as she blinks at me in surprise.

  "Pancakes. I make a mean one. And I'm starved. You totally ruined my dinner at Tilley's tonight."

  I'm rewarded with the barest of smiles. That bolsters me, and I reach out to grab her hand so I can pull her toward the door. She resists slightly, but I'm determined. I tug on her harder and she finally follows me.

  "You know how to make pancakes?" she asks timidly as we walk down the stairs. I don't let her hand go.

  "Well, I've been single a long damn time since we broke up," I tell her. I wonder what the expression is on her face with that admission, but she's slightly behind me as we walk down and I don't look back at her. "I had to learn to cook or I would starve."

  I almost stumble and miss the last step when she says, "But Ashley...she called you baby at Tilley's. You reached out for me, and she told you not to, and you stopped. You're in a relationship with her."

  As soon as Eden's feet hit the foyer floor behind me, I spin on her and give her hand a squeeze. "No...I'm not in a relationship with her."

  "But she called you--"

  "I'm sleeping with her, but there's no relationship," I clarify. "She has never stayed the night in my bed."

  Eden actually grimaces and tries to pull her hand out of mine. I hold tighter, squeeze again to keep her attention. "You didn't think I wouldn't ever have sex again, did you Eden? Fourteen years is a long time to go without."

  "No, I'm not thinking that at all. It's just...Ashley? Really? She was so shallow in high school."

  I chuckle and toss back at her. "Brad Wright? Really? He's a total douche."

  She actually laughs, and the light hits her eyes. "He is an absolute douche. We sure know how to pick 'em."

  "That we do," I agree, then turn toward the kitchen, pulling her behind me. "Let's eat pancakes and commiserate."

  Chapter 9

  Are those butterflies in my stomach?

  Eden

  The kitchen in Goodnight House is my second favorite place, outside of the master suite. It sits at the back of the house and is overly spacious. When it was built, it included two large double doors on opposite sides that could be opened up on hot days to let the breeze go through. It's midsummer in Georgia now, and the luxury of central air-conditioning had been added to this house years ago, so the doors are now shut. But on early spring evenings or late in the fall, my favorite thing to do was swing those doors open, sit at the large kitchen island, and just sip on coffee while I listened to the birds and crickets.

  When Coop and I were dating, he'd often come over after dinner and we'd sit out on the front porch and talk while watching the fireflies. Because my grandmother was hardly ever around, this often involved moving up to my bedroom, where we'd make out, or sometimes we'd just legitimately study. Regardless, we spent a lot of time together in this house.

  Coop busies himself at the long counter that holds the stove, putting the ingredients for the pancake batter into a large bowl. I pull out my phone and dial Colleen. She picks up on the second ring.

  "Are you on your way back?" she asks crisply, and I'm now more annoyed than I was just before I dialed the number.

  "I'm coming back when I'm damn good and ready," I snap at her, but I know she's just doing her job and just being Colleen. I've paid her well over the years to be just like that.

  "But Brad's people are demanding an immediate meeting to make sure there will be no hiccups when filming starts," she points out.

  "I'm not sure I'm going to do the movie," I tell her honestly. That's definitely the way I'm leaning.

  "Do you know how popular this movie is going to be?" Colleen asks me in a deadly serious voice. "It's his most popular action series, and with the press circulating about you two, it's going to set records at the box office."

  "And prancing around in a bikini or in my panties and bra is really all I'll be doing," I say dryly. At that, Coop's head spins around and he gives me a cocked eyebrow. I smirk at him and tell Colleen, "My role is minimal. They can easily find someone else."

  "They don't want anyone else," she says firmly.

  "Whatever," I mutter, not ready to fight about this. I have something more important. "About two years ago, I was sent a letter from the town council of Newberry, Georgia. Their middle school had sustained fire damage and they asked for me to help with rebuilding costs, as well as some money to erect for a memorial to honor someone that died saving the children there."

  "You get requests for money all the time," she says. "Daily, as a matter of fact."

  "So you don't remember this one in particular?" I press.

  "Sorry, Eden," Colleen says. "But I'll be glad to look it up. We keep records on all that stuff."

  "Don't bother," I say softly, letting that offensive amount just hang in the air. I look up and find Coop has turned to face me, leaning back against the counter and whisking pancake batter. "I know you sent a donation for five hundred dollars."

  "Yeah...five hundred dollars. What's the issue?" Colleen asks in confusion and a little bit of frustration to even be dealing with something that she believes to be trivial. I know she'd rather be pressuring me about the movie deal.

  I grit my teeth and try to maintain some level of calm. "The issue is that this was my middle school I attended and the request was from my hometown. I think I could have given a lot more than five hundred dollars. This should have been brought to my attention."

  "Eden, if I sent money to every single person who asked you, you'd have been bankrupt years ago. You can't help or save everyone."

  "But I can sure as fuck prioritize them and help the ones that are important to me," I snarl at her. "A very close friend of mine...his father died in that fire. I lost out on an opportunity to honor him because you didn't give it much thought at all."

  Coop's hand stills over the batter bowl and his eyes darken as he watches me.

  Her voice is soft and contrite, but she doesn't budge on her stance. "You don't have time to review all that stuff, Eden. You're a business. You have to make movies. Your staff screens the mail because as you know, you get hundreds of letters and emails a day. You have to rely on your staff to handle it."

  "But that's just it...y'all fucked up a very important request, and I'm now sitting here in Newberry amid a group of people who hate me because I've offended them through your actions."

  "So you're in Newberry." Collen latches on to my slip of the tongue. "I could arrange a meeting with Brad's people there if that would suit you."

  "No it wouldn't fucking suit me," I snap at her, and I'm so livid over her lack of empathy toward
me for her colossal screwup I disconnect the call and slam my phone down on the counter.

  Within three seconds, it's ringing and I see Colleen's name. "I'm pissed at you," I snarl into the phone when I connect the call.

  "And I'm sorry you were let down," Colleen says, her voice filled with apology. "Clearly something important slipped through the cracks. I'll figure a way to fix this so it doesn't happen again. Now, if you'll just tell me how much money you want me to send to make this right, I'll get it sent out immediately."

  I sigh and my entire body deflates. "No, I'm sorry I was shitty to you. I'm just upset about it and you don't have to do anything else on this."

  "You sure?" she presses.

  "I'm sure. Let's plan on talking tomorrow, okay?"

  "Sure thing, Eden," Colleen says, and she hangs up.

  When I place my phone on the counter, Coop sets down the batter bowl, turns to the cupboard just to his left, and pulls out a bottle of bourbon along with two highball glasses. He doesn't say a word but just saunters over to the island and pours each of us two fingers. He slides a glass over to me and picks his up.

  I follow suit, cocking at eyebrow at him for explanation.

  "You need this," he says with a smirk. "Trust me on that."

  "I'll still get pancakes, though, right?" I ask to make sure.

  "You'll still get pancakes," he assures me, then taps the edge of his glass to mine. "Welcome back to Newberry, Eden."

  I sip the bourbon. He takes a slug and sets the glass back down on the counter before heading back to the batter he left near the stove. I watch as he cooks breakfast for dinner for us, and yes, I appreciate that Coop Mayfield has definitely filled out since we were together. His shoulders are broad and pull at the material of his T-shirt, and I have no doubt he's sporting an amazing abdomen. His triceps flex as he dips a ladle into the batter, then pours it onto a sizzling griddle.

  Age has treated him well. I'd have to say that at thirty-two, he's the most gorgeous man I know, and I doubt anyone could take that title from him.

  "So...you didn't sound happy to whomever you were just talking to," Coop says as he stands over the pan, spatula poised and ready to flip when it's ready.

  "That was my business manager, Colleen O'Hearn. She's been with me ever since I moved over into acting."