been trying to get Mr. Haynes to sell or lease, but the family won’t give. Your brother’s company, Redfern, LLC doesn’t want to give up.”
Unable to move, speak, or do anything in her defense, she placed a shaky hand over her mouth to stop from telling them off. What good would it do anyway? Coop needed the tongue-lashing, not them. She turned on her heels, stormed upstairs, and banged again on his door. Still no answer. “Son of a bitch!”
At her door, she dug her key out of her jeans pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, missed, and tried again. Her anger blinded her enough, she couldn’t see straight. On the third try, it went in. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.
“What the hell?” She paced the length of the room. The information she learned the last few days about Coop didn’t compare to this atrocity! He’s an evil fuckhead.
“I’ll show him. Let the candies work their magic.”
She jumped into the shower and a half hour later, she stared at herself in the mirror, and touched black eyeliner to her top lid. The cool shower hadn’t lessened her anger; her hand shook as she drew a line right above her eyelashes, the line coming out jagged. She snatched a makeup remover pad, wiped it off, and sucked in a deep breath before attempting again. This time, the line came out perfect.
At least, she didn’t have to fight with her hair by putting it up. Coop liked it bouncing around her shoulders. Since everything she did tonight focused on getting under his skin, she left it down, so he got the full impact of what he missed.
Dressed in what she hoped would knock Coop on his ass, she moved swiftly through the house avoiding the kitchen for fear of seeing Felicia and whomever she had spoken to earlier.
Thirty-five minutes later, she pulled into the high school’s full parking lot and backed out. “Damn!” She parked on a side street and walked toward the reunion with the most eloquence she could muster in four-inch heels, ignored the air chilling her skin, and pretended she didn’t possess legs as long as a giraffe that wobbled. The high heels, another getting-under-Coop’s-skin tactic, would have her topping him by two inches…easily, something he hated. “Ha!”
By the time she reached the door, her nerves jumped and her skin flushed. She inhaled and released the breath slowly and opened the door.
“Hi!” she said to her former soccer teammate, and so it went as she checked in, received her nametag, and walked inside the gymnasium. No one mentioned her graduation fiasco, no PIP.
Pink curtains draped the ceiling and hid the ugly brown walls. Spotlights ran along a track in the center, casting shades of purple and whites around the room. In the center of the room, a white tile dance floor with colorful strobe lights flashing beams of light over the area. “Breathtaking.”
“Yes, you are.” Coop’s voice flowed over her like candy dipped desire, snapping every erotic zone she possessed to life. He handed her a cocktail glass with juice in it. “Red never looked so good.”
Little sensations of the happy-dance variety skipped across her skin. She took in her cocktail dress with a heart-shaped cutout flaunting her cleavage. With her thirty-four inch inseam and the dress stopping mid-thigh, her endless legs no doubt made him notice. He loved legs long and shapely. Yes, the Valentine’s Day outfit perfected the let’s-get-under-Coop’s-skin theme. “Non-alcoholic, I assume.”
“School property.”
“The class president needs to have a better plan for the next reunion,” she snapped, refusing to release her anger. “I could use a shot.”
His intense gaze heated, increasing his potency. The exciting thrills she experienced the first day she returned to Heather Ridge when she saw him reappeared for a do-over. They paid no attention to his manipulation. She downed the juice as if it was strong liquor and moved to the table for some more. Felicia stood behind the punch
Unable to move, speak, or do anything in her defense, she placed a shaky hand over her mouth to stop from telling them off. What good would it do anyway? Coop needed the tongue-lashing, not them. She turned on her heels, stormed upstairs, and banged again on his door. Still no answer. “Son of a bitch!”
At her door, she dug her key out of her jeans pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, missed, and tried again. Her anger blinded her enough, she couldn’t see straight. On the third try, it went in. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.
“What the hell?” She paced the length of the room. The information she learned the last few days about Coop didn’t compare to this atrocity! He’s an evil fuckhead.
“I’ll show him. Let the candies work their magic.”
She jumped into the shower and a half hour later, she stared at herself in the mirror, and touched black eyeliner to her top lid. The cool shower hadn’t lessened her anger; her hand shook as she drew a line right above her eyelashes, the line coming out jagged. She snatched a makeup remover pad, wiped it off, and sucked in a deep breath before attempting again. This time, the line came out perfect.
At least, she didn’t have to fight with her hair by putting it up. Coop liked it bouncing around her shoulders. Since everything she did tonight focused on getting under his skin, she left it down, so he got the full impact of what he missed.
Dressed in what she hoped would knock Coop on his ass, she moved swiftly through the house avoiding the kitchen for fear of seeing Felicia and whomever she had spoken to earlier.
Thirty-five minutes later, she pulled into the high school’s full parking lot and backed out. “Damn!” She parked on a side street and walked toward the reunion with the most eloquence she could muster in four-inch heels, ignored the air chilling her skin, and pretended she didn’t possess legs as long as a giraffe that wobbled. The high heels, another getting-under-Coop’s-skin tactic, would have her topping him by two inches…easily, something he hated. “Ha!”
By the time she reached the door, her nerves jumped and her skin flushed. She inhaled and released the breath slowly and opened the door.
“Hi!” she said to her former soccer teammate, and so it went as she checked in, received her nametag, and walked inside the gymnasium. No one mentioned her graduation fiasco, no PIP.
Pink curtains draped the ceiling and hid the ugly brown walls. Spotlights ran along a track in the center, casting shades of purple and whites around the room. In the center of the room, a white tile dance floor with colorful strobe lights flashing beams of light over the area. “Breathtaking.”
“Yes, you are.” Coop’s voice flowed over her like candy dipped desire, snapping every erotic zone she possessed to life. He handed her a cocktail glass with juice in it. “Red never looked so good.”
Little sensations of the happy-dance variety skipped across her skin. She took in her cocktail dress with a heart-shaped cutout flaunting her cleavage. With her thirty-four inch inseam and the dress stopping mid-thigh, her endless legs no doubt made him notice. He loved legs long and shapely. Yes, the Valentine’s Day outfit perfected the let’s-get-under-Coop’s-skin theme. “Non-alcoholic, I assume.”
“School property.”
“The class president needs to have a better plan for the next reunion,” she snapped, refusing to release her anger. “I could use a shot.”
His intense gaze heated, increasing his potency. The exciting thrills she experienced the first day she returned to Heather Ridge when she saw him reappeared for a do-over. They paid no attention to his manipulation. She downed the juice as if it was strong liquor and moved to the table for some more. Felicia stood behind the punch
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