Page 46 of The Love Lie
He tosses her a look and hollers again.
She tries, and fails, to copy him.
They repeat this two more times before the knot in her chest finally loosens and a laugh breaks free. The view really is stunning. Endless sky. Endless sea. Lush tropical islands. Hints of coral beneath crystal waters and splashing wildlife. She takes it all in while squeezing Cooper’s hand so tightly she’s sure she’s cutting off circulation but he doesn’t complain. He points to one side and she points to another.
Look at this. Look at that. What’s over there?
Before she remembers to be afraid, they’re already lowering back to the boat, reeled in like fish on a line. As the sun sinks lower, the crew lays out a picnic dinner on the platform. She and Cooper sit facing pink-and-orange clouds. Her knee bumps against his thigh as they sip wine and dig into the meal.
“So…heights, huh?”
Sam gives him a sidelong glance. “Take it to your grave, cowboy.”
“How does that work exactly? Seeing as you most likely work in a skyscraper—and hell, probably live in one, too?”
“I keep away from the windows.”
“No one knows?”
“Nope.” She shrugs. “I’ve always excelled at appearing much tougher than I am.”
“Interesting.”
“What does that mean?”
He keeps studying her.
She glares.
“What was it you said last night?” Mischief dances in his eyes. “You do know you just handed me the key to your undoing?”
She arches a brow.You sure you want to do this?
His smile deepens, puckering the dimple in his cheek.Always.
“That doesn’t impress me all that much,” Sam casually murmurs.
“No?”
“You have the looks, Coop. But what about the touch?”
“I know what you’re doing.”
Sam launches into the full version of Shania’s immortal hit “That Don’t Impress Me Much” and he reaches out to smash his hand over her mouth. Utilizing the traditional counterattack, she licks his palm. Cooper snatches it back with disbelief. Theymake eye contact for two long, challenge-fueled seconds, before they both break down.
“Truce?”
“Truce.”
She’s still smiling when they get back to the dock. Returned to a service area, her phone buzzes. Work, no doubt. She absentmindedly scans the message while they walk. And that quickly, all the joy from the day is sucked away like water down a drain. It’s her boss.
Need you to set up an interview next week. Potential new hire. Spencer Winthrop. Make it a priority.
There’s an unwritten implication at the end.
I know his father.
But that’s not what makes her freeze. It’s the name. The one she’s tried to forget. The one she’s tried to scrub out. The one that brings her right back to the darkest night and the darkest place in her life.
