Read Online A Teeny Bit of Trouble by Michael Lee West - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Lee West
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pop it open.”
We went inside and checked the rooms. Nothing was disheveled. Aunt Bluette’s Hummels and Precious Moments figurines were lined up in the curio cabinet.
“Maybe he didn’t come into the house,” Coop said.
“Yes, he did.” I pointed to the pocket doors. I’d closed them before we’d left and now they stood ajar.
“I bet T-Bone nudged them open,” Coop said. “He’s an escape artist. I should’ve named him Houdini.”
While Coop circled through the rest of the house, I went upstairs to check on Emerson. She sat on my old bed, unbraiding her hair. The stuffed hedgehog lay on the ruffled pillow. I glanced around the room. Either the prowler was a neatnik or he hadn’t entered this room.
“Why was T-Bone barking?” she asked.
The truth would scare her, but I didn’t want to lie, either. I felt my “oh shit” smile snap into place. “He was chasing something.”
“Stupid dog.” Emerson sighed. “I’d love to chitchat, but it’s been a long, crappy day and I’m sleepy.”
I knew she wanted me to go, but I lingered in the doorway. “You want a glass of warm milk?”
“Ick, no.” She turned on her iPod and reached for the earphones. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her the way Aunt Bluette had held me, but all I said was, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“As if.”
I found Coop in the kitchen. “Emerson’s fine,” I said, though he hadn’t asked.
“But you aren’t,” he said. “You’re shaking all over. Should I get your inhaler?”
“I’m fine, really.” Our eyes met. The air between us was spiked with electrical charges, and we stepped toward each other. Coop wrapped his arms around me. The heat from his body radiated through his thin cotton shirt, flooding me with a warm sweetness. I rested my cheek against his shoulder. It felt just right, solid and sheltering. And I knew that I’d already forgiven him for not telling me about Barb. Like Aunt Bluette used to say, “Nobody’s perfect. When you forgive others, you forgive yourself.” I think maybe she got that from Dr. Phil, but it was true.
Footsteps clapped in the hallway. Coop and I broke apart. Red strode into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed. “You missing anything, Teeny?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“I bet it was a kid. He probably thought the house was unoccupied.” Red’s voice sounded blunt, as if he’d sanded the edges of each word. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted off the metal cap. “Big day tomorrow. What happens after the DNA test, Boss? You and Teeny gonna stick around and wait for the results?”
I walked to the sink and folded a tea towel. I wished I could be more like Red, moving effortlessly between prowlers and practical matters.
I felt the pressure of Coop’s hand on my elbow. “What do you think, Teeny? You want to stay in Bonaventure?”
“That would be nice.” I wasn’t in a hurry to get back to Charleston. I had plenty to think about. If Coop was Emerson’s dad, would I be a part of her life? Would she ever warm up to me? If so, I shouldn’t buy The Picky Palate Café. If Coop needed my help, I’d be there. Just deciding this made me feel calmer.
Red took a swig of beer, then he sniffed his armpits. “Does this house have a shower?”
“Upstairs,” I said. “First door on your right. Your bedroom room is across the hall. Hope you like Elvis. You’re sleeping with him.”
“You got ‘the King’ hid in the closet, girlie?” He winked. Then he went upstairs.
Coop put his arms around me. “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you still worried about the prowler?”
“No.” It was the truth. My pulse always went haywire when I smelled pine, cotton, and Aqua di Parma.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“About what?” I drew back, expecting to hear more bad news.
“Marry me,” he said.
I stopped breathing. How many times had I fantasized about this? A ring dropped into a champagne glass, a band playing our
We went inside and checked the rooms. Nothing was disheveled. Aunt Bluette’s Hummels and Precious Moments figurines were lined up in the curio cabinet.
“Maybe he didn’t come into the house,” Coop said.
“Yes, he did.” I pointed to the pocket doors. I’d closed them before we’d left and now they stood ajar.
“I bet T-Bone nudged them open,” Coop said. “He’s an escape artist. I should’ve named him Houdini.”
While Coop circled through the rest of the house, I went upstairs to check on Emerson. She sat on my old bed, unbraiding her hair. The stuffed hedgehog lay on the ruffled pillow. I glanced around the room. Either the prowler was a neatnik or he hadn’t entered this room.
“Why was T-Bone barking?” she asked.
The truth would scare her, but I didn’t want to lie, either. I felt my “oh shit” smile snap into place. “He was chasing something.”
“Stupid dog.” Emerson sighed. “I’d love to chitchat, but it’s been a long, crappy day and I’m sleepy.”
I knew she wanted me to go, but I lingered in the doorway. “You want a glass of warm milk?”
“Ick, no.” She turned on her iPod and reached for the earphones. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her the way Aunt Bluette had held me, but all I said was, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“As if.”
I found Coop in the kitchen. “Emerson’s fine,” I said, though he hadn’t asked.
“But you aren’t,” he said. “You’re shaking all over. Should I get your inhaler?”
“I’m fine, really.” Our eyes met. The air between us was spiked with electrical charges, and we stepped toward each other. Coop wrapped his arms around me. The heat from his body radiated through his thin cotton shirt, flooding me with a warm sweetness. I rested my cheek against his shoulder. It felt just right, solid and sheltering. And I knew that I’d already forgiven him for not telling me about Barb. Like Aunt Bluette used to say, “Nobody’s perfect. When you forgive others, you forgive yourself.” I think maybe she got that from Dr. Phil, but it was true.
Footsteps clapped in the hallway. Coop and I broke apart. Red strode into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed. “You missing anything, Teeny?”
“No. Everything’s fine.”
“I bet it was a kid. He probably thought the house was unoccupied.” Red’s voice sounded blunt, as if he’d sanded the edges of each word. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted off the metal cap. “Big day tomorrow. What happens after the DNA test, Boss? You and Teeny gonna stick around and wait for the results?”
I walked to the sink and folded a tea towel. I wished I could be more like Red, moving effortlessly between prowlers and practical matters.
I felt the pressure of Coop’s hand on my elbow. “What do you think, Teeny? You want to stay in Bonaventure?”
“That would be nice.” I wasn’t in a hurry to get back to Charleston. I had plenty to think about. If Coop was Emerson’s dad, would I be a part of her life? Would she ever warm up to me? If so, I shouldn’t buy The Picky Palate Café. If Coop needed my help, I’d be there. Just deciding this made me feel calmer.
Red took a swig of beer, then he sniffed his armpits. “Does this house have a shower?”
“Upstairs,” I said. “First door on your right. Your bedroom room is across the hall. Hope you like Elvis. You’re sleeping with him.”
“You got ‘the King’ hid in the closet, girlie?” He winked. Then he went upstairs.
Coop put his arms around me. “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you still worried about the prowler?”
“No.” It was the truth. My pulse always went haywire when I smelled pine, cotton, and Aqua di Parma.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“About what?” I drew back, expecting to hear more bad news.
“Marry me,” he said.
I stopped breathing. How many times had I fantasized about this? A ring dropped into a champagne glass, a band playing our
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