Read Online 3 Men and a Body by Stephanie Bond - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stephanie Bond
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arm. “Let me check it out.”
She fol owed him. After he raised the garage door, she
peered into the dimly lit interior. Her blue Monte Carlo—
damnable car—sat where it had been since her accident.
And her beloved but broken-down white Miata convertible
sat next to it. Wesley’s bike stood between the two
vehicles.
“Everything looks fine,” she told Coop.
“I hope Wes doesn’t try to drive on his suspended license
while you’re gone.”
“He won’t.” She smiled widely. “I have the keys.”
“Does he have the key to the garage?” he asked, pointing
to the handle.
“Yes. You can lock it.”
Carlotta bit her lip, wondering where Wesley had been last
night, if he’d gone to see his mystery girlfriend. Or if he’d
been gambling again. Maybe he’d left the garage door up
because he’d been drinking. She sighed. He certainly didn’t
need another vice.
After securing the garage, Coop opened the middle door
of the van and set her suitcase behind the driver’s seat.
Behind the bench seat was a mesh screen separating the
passenger area from the gurney at the rear. It was hard to
imagine that on the way back, they would be carrying the
body of Kiki Deerling with them.
Coop opened the passenger side door and helped Carlotta
climb in, since she only had use of one arm. His body
language was gentle and protective. Despite Coop’s
flirting, she knew he’d never want to make her feel
uncomfortable. But his touch on her arm and waist wasn’t
unwelcome.
He helped her fasten the seat belt, his proximity sending a
whiff of aftershave into her lungs. Clean and natural—like
him.
“All set?” he asked with a smile, his light brown eyes
crinkling in merriment behind black horn-rimmed glasses.
The knowledge that he was happy being with her left her a
little breathless. She needed to tread lightly here…for both
their sakes.
“Yeah,” she said breezily. “Al set.”
He stepped back and closed her door. She watched him
stride in front of the van, his movements sure but relaxed,
a man who was comfortable with himself. Her pulse
quickened in response. She could see why her brother
admired Coop. His quiet confidence was compel ing…and
sexy. Coop had promised her separate hotel rooms for the
trip if she wanted, but at the moment, it was deliciously
entertaining to think about the alternative.
Of course, after six hours together in this van, they might
be ready to drown each other in the Atlantic Ocean.
9
“Great day,” Coop said happily, once he settled into the
driver’s seat and turned over the ignition.
It was, Carlotta conceded. Another warm summer day in
the South, with an intensely blue sky and one or two puffy
clouds bouncing around. She smiled up through the
windshield as they pul ed out of the driveway, and even
waved at crabby Mrs. Winningham in her yard. As they
drove away from the house, she could feel the stress
draining from her body. A sigh escaped her.
“You okay?” Coop asked.
She nodded, putting on white Gucci sunglasses. “It’s been
a long time since I’ve had a vacation.”
He grinned. “Then I’l have to make sure you have a good
time. But first, I need to make a few phone calls. Do you
mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Why don’t you sort through the CDs in the console and
pick out something you’d like to listen to?”
He turned on his blinker and merged the long van into the
traffic on the I-75/I-85 connector. The multiple lanes were
clogged with locals commuting to the airport and out-of-
towners fol owing I-75 to Florida. Beyond the airport,
traffic thinned, but it was stil a stressful stretch of road to
travel for most drivers. Coop, however, seemed perfectly
at ease behind the wheel of the large vehicle. He had nice
hands, with long, blunt-tipped fingers. She wondered idly
if he’d ever worn a wedding ring.
She opened the console between the seats and began
flipping through the eclectic mix of
She fol owed him. After he raised the garage door, she
peered into the dimly lit interior. Her blue Monte Carlo—
damnable car—sat where it had been since her accident.
And her beloved but broken-down white Miata convertible
sat next to it. Wesley’s bike stood between the two
vehicles.
“Everything looks fine,” she told Coop.
“I hope Wes doesn’t try to drive on his suspended license
while you’re gone.”
“He won’t.” She smiled widely. “I have the keys.”
“Does he have the key to the garage?” he asked, pointing
to the handle.
“Yes. You can lock it.”
Carlotta bit her lip, wondering where Wesley had been last
night, if he’d gone to see his mystery girlfriend. Or if he’d
been gambling again. Maybe he’d left the garage door up
because he’d been drinking. She sighed. He certainly didn’t
need another vice.
After securing the garage, Coop opened the middle door
of the van and set her suitcase behind the driver’s seat.
Behind the bench seat was a mesh screen separating the
passenger area from the gurney at the rear. It was hard to
imagine that on the way back, they would be carrying the
body of Kiki Deerling with them.
Coop opened the passenger side door and helped Carlotta
climb in, since she only had use of one arm. His body
language was gentle and protective. Despite Coop’s
flirting, she knew he’d never want to make her feel
uncomfortable. But his touch on her arm and waist wasn’t
unwelcome.
He helped her fasten the seat belt, his proximity sending a
whiff of aftershave into her lungs. Clean and natural—like
him.
“All set?” he asked with a smile, his light brown eyes
crinkling in merriment behind black horn-rimmed glasses.
The knowledge that he was happy being with her left her a
little breathless. She needed to tread lightly here…for both
their sakes.
“Yeah,” she said breezily. “Al set.”
He stepped back and closed her door. She watched him
stride in front of the van, his movements sure but relaxed,
a man who was comfortable with himself. Her pulse
quickened in response. She could see why her brother
admired Coop. His quiet confidence was compel ing…and
sexy. Coop had promised her separate hotel rooms for the
trip if she wanted, but at the moment, it was deliciously
entertaining to think about the alternative.
Of course, after six hours together in this van, they might
be ready to drown each other in the Atlantic Ocean.
9
“Great day,” Coop said happily, once he settled into the
driver’s seat and turned over the ignition.
It was, Carlotta conceded. Another warm summer day in
the South, with an intensely blue sky and one or two puffy
clouds bouncing around. She smiled up through the
windshield as they pul ed out of the driveway, and even
waved at crabby Mrs. Winningham in her yard. As they
drove away from the house, she could feel the stress
draining from her body. A sigh escaped her.
“You okay?” Coop asked.
She nodded, putting on white Gucci sunglasses. “It’s been
a long time since I’ve had a vacation.”
He grinned. “Then I’l have to make sure you have a good
time. But first, I need to make a few phone calls. Do you
mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Why don’t you sort through the CDs in the console and
pick out something you’d like to listen to?”
He turned on his blinker and merged the long van into the
traffic on the I-75/I-85 connector. The multiple lanes were
clogged with locals commuting to the airport and out-of-
towners fol owing I-75 to Florida. Beyond the airport,
traffic thinned, but it was stil a stressful stretch of road to
travel for most drivers. Coop, however, seemed perfectly
at ease behind the wheel of the large vehicle. He had nice
hands, with long, blunt-tipped fingers. She wondered idly
if he’d ever worn a wedding ring.
She opened the console between the seats and began
flipping through the eclectic mix of
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