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Authors: Stephanie Bond
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tragic death of Kiki Deerling.”
Carlotta turned down the volume, shaking her head at the
pointlessness. It was a very sad ending for a woman who
might have gone on to more noble pursuits, but instead
would be memorialized for her excessive partying and
personal humiliations played out in the tabloids.
At the sound of a car pul ing into the driveway, Carlotta
clicked off the TV and jumped up to look out the window.
Seeing Coop’s white van, she smiled. “Wesley, I’m
leaving!” she called. “See you in a few days!” She doubted
if he heard her, since the fan in his bedroom was stil
running, but she looked toward the hallway in case he
emerged. She had waited up until midnight last night
before giving in and going to bed, but had left a note on
his door tel ing him she was going on a road trip with
Coop. Wesley was clearly avoiding her because he didn’t
want to discuss what had happened. And she wasn’t ready
to pry the truth out of Peter. In fact, she hadn’t even told
him that she was going out of town.
Wesley was avoiding her; she was avoiding Peter. Round
and round we go.
Maybe by the time she returned to Atlanta, Wesley would
be wil ing to open up. Carlotta sighed in the direction of
his closed bedroom door. They seemed bound and yet
separated by old and new secrets. A few days away from
each other would probably do them both good.
The doorbel rang. She hurried to the door and opened it,
unable to suppress her smile. Coop looked handsome and
fit in a black T-shirt and jeans, dressed more casually than
usual, and wearing it wel . Her heart tripped ridiculously,
as if they were going to the prom.
“Hi,” he said with a grin, scanning her summer outfit of
white pants, pink buttoned-up shirt and sandals. “You look
great.”
She blushed and was struck with the sudden sensation
that this trip might be laced with more sexual tension than
she’d anticipated. “Thanks. But I’m so over this cast.”
He wagged his eyebrows. “I’m a doctor—I think it’s kind of
hot.”
Carlotta laughed at his foolishness and took one last look
into the hallway. Then she turned back with a shrug. “I
thought Wesley might come out to say goodbye.”
“Are you sure he’s in there?”
“Yeah, I heard him rol in about two this morning. And the
note I left on the door is gone.”
“He knows where we’re going?”
“You said it was hush-hush, so I said we were going on a
road trip for the morgue, but not where or why.” She
smiled. “I said that you felt sorry for me and were letting
me tag along.”
Coop grinned. “Somehow I doubt he’l buy that story.”
“I did.”
He grinned wider. “I know.”
She punched him on the arm and he faked pain, then
picked up her rather large suitcase and staggered. “Whoa!
You got a body in here?”
“Just a few necessities,” she sang as she closed the door
and locked it behind them.
“How much room does a bathing suit take up? I should’ve
been more explicit about our itinerary.” He stopped. “You
did bring a bathing suit, didn’t you?”
“Several,” she taunted.
Coop groaned. “I can’t wait to get there.”
Carlotta laughed, then squashed a pang of guilt and
pressed her advantage. “I was hoping we could stop for
the night in Daytona.”
“Fine with me. But what’s the interest in Daytona? You’re
not going to look up an old boyfriend, are you?”
She gave a nervous laugh. “No. Um…there’s a Neiman’s
there I want to visit.”
“No problem,” he said. “Daytona is about a six-hour drive.
If traffic is decent, and figuring in time to stop for lunch,
we should be there by late afternoon.”
She glanced toward the garage and frowned. Wesley had
left the door up a few inches when he’d come home last
night. “Give me a minute to close the garage door, Coop.
The opener must be broken—it’s been making a grinding
noise.” She sighed. Another expense.
He looked over and held up his
Carlotta turned down the volume, shaking her head at the
pointlessness. It was a very sad ending for a woman who
might have gone on to more noble pursuits, but instead
would be memorialized for her excessive partying and
personal humiliations played out in the tabloids.
At the sound of a car pul ing into the driveway, Carlotta
clicked off the TV and jumped up to look out the window.
Seeing Coop’s white van, she smiled. “Wesley, I’m
leaving!” she called. “See you in a few days!” She doubted
if he heard her, since the fan in his bedroom was stil
running, but she looked toward the hallway in case he
emerged. She had waited up until midnight last night
before giving in and going to bed, but had left a note on
his door tel ing him she was going on a road trip with
Coop. Wesley was clearly avoiding her because he didn’t
want to discuss what had happened. And she wasn’t ready
to pry the truth out of Peter. In fact, she hadn’t even told
him that she was going out of town.
Wesley was avoiding her; she was avoiding Peter. Round
and round we go.
Maybe by the time she returned to Atlanta, Wesley would
be wil ing to open up. Carlotta sighed in the direction of
his closed bedroom door. They seemed bound and yet
separated by old and new secrets. A few days away from
each other would probably do them both good.
The doorbel rang. She hurried to the door and opened it,
unable to suppress her smile. Coop looked handsome and
fit in a black T-shirt and jeans, dressed more casually than
usual, and wearing it wel . Her heart tripped ridiculously,
as if they were going to the prom.
“Hi,” he said with a grin, scanning her summer outfit of
white pants, pink buttoned-up shirt and sandals. “You look
great.”
She blushed and was struck with the sudden sensation
that this trip might be laced with more sexual tension than
she’d anticipated. “Thanks. But I’m so over this cast.”
He wagged his eyebrows. “I’m a doctor—I think it’s kind of
hot.”
Carlotta laughed at his foolishness and took one last look
into the hallway. Then she turned back with a shrug. “I
thought Wesley might come out to say goodbye.”
“Are you sure he’s in there?”
“Yeah, I heard him rol in about two this morning. And the
note I left on the door is gone.”
“He knows where we’re going?”
“You said it was hush-hush, so I said we were going on a
road trip for the morgue, but not where or why.” She
smiled. “I said that you felt sorry for me and were letting
me tag along.”
Coop grinned. “Somehow I doubt he’l buy that story.”
“I did.”
He grinned wider. “I know.”
She punched him on the arm and he faked pain, then
picked up her rather large suitcase and staggered. “Whoa!
You got a body in here?”
“Just a few necessities,” she sang as she closed the door
and locked it behind them.
“How much room does a bathing suit take up? I should’ve
been more explicit about our itinerary.” He stopped. “You
did bring a bathing suit, didn’t you?”
“Several,” she taunted.
Coop groaned. “I can’t wait to get there.”
Carlotta laughed, then squashed a pang of guilt and
pressed her advantage. “I was hoping we could stop for
the night in Daytona.”
“Fine with me. But what’s the interest in Daytona? You’re
not going to look up an old boyfriend, are you?”
She gave a nervous laugh. “No. Um…there’s a Neiman’s
there I want to visit.”
“No problem,” he said. “Daytona is about a six-hour drive.
If traffic is decent, and figuring in time to stop for lunch,
we should be there by late afternoon.”
She glanced toward the garage and frowned. Wesley had
left the door up a few inches when he’d come home last
night. “Give me a minute to close the garage door, Coop.
The opener must be broken—it’s been making a grinding
noise.” She sighed. Another expense.
He looked over and held up his
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