Page 13 of The Cowboy Complication

“Yeah?” Cooper took a drink of his coffee, expression oddly intense as it fixed on her over the lid of his cup. “Who?”

“Um.” She was already stressed out, and his undivided attention only flustered her further, making her pits and upper lip sweat. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” He tipped his head at the wheel. “Left turn signal. We’re going to head out of downtown.”

She found that lever easy enough and tipped it down, watching the signal flick on and off for a second before taking a deep breath and pulling out. Downtown Moss Creek was pretty small, with one main road running up the center and narrow side streets branching off. The only one with lines of any sort was the big one, so she just did her best to stay on her half as she drove up the side of the three-story building where she lived. Reaching the main road, she stopped.

“Good job.” This time Cooper’s head tipped toward his window. “Now we’re going to turn right and follow this out of town so you can practice on the back roads.”

That sounded way more fun than trying to navigate downtown. Even though it wasn’t big, it was still relatively busy. Keeping track of pedestrians and other cars attempting to parallel park, all while trying to stay on the road, might make her head explode.

Once the lights of downtown were behind them, she let out a little breath, calming just a bit now that she had the road to herself.

“So who would you drive over?” Cooper picked their earlier conversation right back up. Like he didn’t know it was the last thing she wanted to discuss with him.

“I don’t think it’s in my best interest to confess something like that to a police officer.”

Cooper laughed, the sound filling the space. “That’s how it’s going to be?” He rested one hand at the center of his chest. “Here I thought we were friends.”

She found herself smiling along with him. “Would you confess homicidal thoughts to your friends?”

Cooper’s hand fell to his lap, expression turning serious. “I would confess anything to my friends.”

He sounded so sincere. So open and honest. “Really?”

“Really.” He grinned. "But to be fair, I've known most of them since we were kids, so I have just as much dirt on them as they have on me."

Isla forced her eyes back to the road, managing to avoid the second worst thing she'd been afraid of doing thanks to her fear of running into the ditch. "That must be nice."

"It is." Cooper's voice was a little softer now. "I take it you don't have friends who've been around since you were young?"

She shook her head, this time keeping her eyes on the road for an entirely different reason. She didn't want to see Cooper's face when he realized how different they were. "I don't actually have friends at all."

It sounded just as terrible coming out as she expected. What twenty-four-year-old woman didn't have any friends at all?

She actually had the answer to that. It was a twenty-four-year-old woman who'd centered her life around helping the man she expected to marry get through medical school. A woman who'd spent all her time working instead of socializing. A woman who sacrificed building anything of her own—whether it was friends, a career, or a hobby—because she thought she was building a life for them, not just herself.

And what a freaking waste that was.

“I feel like we just established I’m your friend.” Cooper took another sip of his coffee. “And I can guarantee you the line of people waiting to be your friend here in Moss Creek is way longer than you realize.”

She peeked his way before putting her eyes back on the road. “Are you talking about the Bridge Bitches?”

“They’re some of who I’m talking about.” Cooper lifted her coffee from the holder, balancing it between them. “You better drink this before it gets cold.”

“Are you encouraging me to drive distractedly?” She gripped the wheel a little tighter, afraid if she took a hand off they’d careen into the field. “Isn’t it your literal job to make sure I’m paying attention to the road?”

“I’m not on the clock right now, so I’m here as your friend.” He said that word again. “Right now it’s my job to make sure you know how to drive well and safely. And I can promise you, you’re gonna want to know how to drink and drive.”

That pulled her full attention to him, swinging her head his way.

Along with the wheel.

Isla gasped as the tires of the truck bounced along the shoulder, barely clinging to the edge of the blacktop.

Cooper stretched across the cab, using the hand holding her coffee to also grab the wheel. He gave it a little correction, urging the truck back between the lines, then he held out the cup. “Now take a drink.”

“I’m going to kill us and it’s going to be your fault,” she grumbled while quickly stealing away the cup.

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