Chapter 13

Ellie

Twenty-Four hours later…

Travel weary, and exhausted, I drive down the empty street and shade my eyes from the harsh desert sun.

As I step out of my rental, the smell of dust and jet fuel wafts into my nostrils along with the warm air.

Ruth’s Hacienda looks the same as it always did. Aloe plants are planted at the front, but I know in the back of her garden, I’ll find a lot of hemp, she swears is purely medicinal growing wildly.

Her crop duster is parked beside the garage, and it’s clear she’s been working on the engine when she appears covered in grease and smoking a cigarette with a wanton disregard for the flammable materials around her.

Even though she’s not one for hugs, my eyes start to water the instant she flicks her cigarette away and looks me up and down. “Ah, I know that look. You lost something you wanted?”

It’s just like her to get straight to the point. And she knows me well enough to know when I’m upset. “Pretty much,” I say.

She sighs and pulls me into a hug and coughs. I wrap my arms around her and am alarmed as to how thin she feels. “You’ve lost weight. And your cough is getting worse,” I say.

She rolls her eyes and grips my arm so she can pull me out of the sun. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I sigh wearily. And take in the messy house I always felt at home in. The only new addition is an oxygen tank and a mask.

I know she won’t listen to me about smoking, so I sink into the chair closest to the door. “Had a wife did he?” she says.

I shake my head. “I can’t give him what he wants.”

Confusion laces her reply as she sits in the same worn-out chair she always did. “What are you on about, girl?”

I frown at her, wondering if she has dementia. “That seedy clinic you took me to not long after I arrived here. I can’t give him kids.”

She starts to hack loudly, doubling over until I hand her the oxygen mask. She inhales deeply and shakes her head.

“You had a cyst the size of an orange on your ovary. There’s no reason you can’t have kids. I told you that. “

My mouth opens and closes several times while I try to process what she’s saying. “But, I, I,” is all I can seem to say.

Ruth leans forward and narrows her eyes. “Don’t you remember? You were in pain for a week when you arrived here. Probably had been for a while, but when you fainted, I took you to get a scan. And good thing I did. It was about to rupture.”

I just stare at her as her words stab into my brain. “There was never really any doubt you could get pregnant later on. Maybe I wasn’t clear. Or maybe it was too much for you to hear? You were only seventeen and we did spend a lot of time talking about my time in the maternity ward while you were here.”

I’m so absolutely floored; I can’t seem to find anything to say. But it makes sense. It absolutely makes perfect sense. The last thing I wanted to discuss was how I was feeling, so I kept Ruth talking about her job.

Other than those conversations and the pain I was in, I barely remember the first month I was here.

A groan escapes at how stupid I’ve been. “I should have gotten it checked out. I was so sure it was for the best I just never even considered I could.”

Ruth shakes her head. “All this time you thought you couldn’t get pregnant? I hope you’ve been using protection?”

I flinch as every sexual partner I’ve had flashes before my eyes. “I have. But the weekend I spent with Cooper was entirely unprotected,” I say.

I feel like the floor is rocking underneath me. “How could I get this so wrong? I’m a nurse!"

She shakes her head interrupting me. “You were drugged up pretty heavily, so you must have got the wrong end of the stick. I told you there was a risk. A very small risk. So did the doctor.”

I slump forward in my chair and place my head in my hands. “Are you saying I misremembered what happened to me?”

I know she feels bad when I feel her bony arm around my shoulders and her hand rubs my back. “I’m saying you were in pain, on drugs, and still in denial about Lucy’s death,” she says.

When I sit up, she’s perched on the edge of the chair. “I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly,” I mumble.

She carries on and cups my chin in her wrinkled and arthritis riddled fingers. “You weren’t because you refused to think or talk about her. Any time I brought it up, you’d get angry.”

Pressure builds inside my chest like I have something desperate to get out, I can’t breathe, and I feel like I’m about to have another panic attack.

I wanted so bad to not ever have another baby to look after, I must have convinced myself that was what I’d heard.

The walls start to press in, but Ruth just grips my chin tighter. “You’d gotten so good at hiding your pain, both physical and mental that you just pushed it all down and carried on as if it hadn’t broken you into pieces. But it had, girl. It broke you right down to your very core. And it’s happened again hasn’t it? You’ve lost someone.”

My voice comes out strangled. “I thought if I learned about nursing like you did, if I was tough like you were, I wouldn’t feel powerless. But I did. And this time it was so much worse.”

If I wasn’t already feeling emotional, when her eyes well up, I know I’m not going to be able to stop myself. “Because you should have been able to save her?” she says.

I nod, my fists clenched into balls as I fight to keep my emotions under control.

She closes her eyes, and my chest constricts at the pain on her weathered face.

“I still see them. Every night. Every face. Hear them crying. Death stains your soul in a way most people will never understand.”

When I see nothing but compassion on her face, I grasp her gnarled hands. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Does that make me a bad person?”

She smiles sadly and shakes her head. “No, Ellie. It just makes you human,” she says.

***

Cooper

I sit at my desk, staring at the piece of paper in front of me as I read for the third time just how badly the system failed a family it was supposed to be protecting.

The hustle of the office and the items on my schedule fade into meaninglessness as I see the enormity of a breakdown in communication that leads to a child’s death.

There’s no way Ellie can know all this. Because there is no way they would have told a sixteen-year-old girl the details of their blunder.

From the social worker to the hospital, Lucy’s death was the end result of one giant cluster fuck.

I pivot on my chair and look out the window behind me. For as far as the eye can see, office buildings stretch on blocking out any nature, anything that wasn’t constructed from man-made materials.

I lean my head back and mentally count the blocks to the nearest hospital. That my thoughts continue to stray back to Ellie no matter what I seem to do, make it harder to ignore the drive to see her.

Rather than look at the concrete jungle out my window, I turn my chair around and pick up a charcoal pencil.

It’s been a while since I sketched anything. There isn’t exactly a call for it, and freehand design wasn’t one of the things my parents encouraged.

But somewhere between learning how to draw blueprints, I’ve managed to teach myself how to draw when inspired.

To occupy both my mind and my hands, I glance at the report and let my pencil glide over the page.

I relax into it, and lose myself in the process, the creation, and am lost in the action when the phone ringing pulls me back down to earth.

I pick up the phone and brace myself for bad news when I see it’s Sam on the line. “Everything okay?” I ask.

She chuckles low. “Wonder of all wonders, yes. They are. Mostly anyway.”

Relief spreads like liquid through me as I sit back. “She’s following the program? Going to counseling?”

There’s a note of hesitation in her voice that makes me frown. “Yeah. But um, you should know. She got another scan. That’s why I’m calling.”

I close my eyes, my relief dissipating as Sam seems to struggle to get the words out. “Is there something wrong with the baby?”

Her voice comes out uncertain making me even more worried. “Well, see that’s just it. It’s not a baby. It’s two. She’s having twins.”

My mouth falls open, and I drop the pencil. “How did we not know that before?”

“It’s called ‘hidden twin’ or something. Apparently, it’s incredibly rare. But it means one is a lot smaller than the other, Coop. And it means she has to be, very, very careful or she’ll lose one.”

I close my eyes and run my hand over my face. “Does she know all this?”

“Yeah. She does. And that’s what I mean when I say something is different this time.”

“How do you mean?”

Sam releases a breath. “I’m not a mom, but the look on her face when the doctor told her. I swear to all that’s holy, Coop, she looked about as sober as I ever saw her.”

I open my eyes and grip the phone a little tighter. “Can I talk to her?”

“Yeah, of course. Actually, be nice to see if I’m imagining things. Just a minute.”

She calls Gabby’s name, and to help with my increasing concern this is going to have an adverse effect on her, and wreck her rehab, I pick up the pencil and keep sketching a rough outline.

Gabby comes on, sounding deflated. “She told you?”

I ask the first question that comes to mind. “Are you okay?’

She gives me a forced laugh in reply. But her voice sounds small when she replies. “I’m scared.”

I swallow hard past the lump growing in my throat. “We’ll figure it out.”

Her voice comes out shaky. “One is so small, Coop, what if she doesn’t make it?”

There’s no way I can answer that, no way I can promise her it’ll be okay when I know it may not be.

So, I offer her the one thing I can promise. “We’re going to do everything we can. You’re going to have every damn specialist I can hire. I’ll pay them to live with you if I have to. But you have to do what they say.”

She starts to cry, not fake tears, real ones that I’ve only seen on one other occasion; the day I left for military school.

“Okay, okay,” she says.

Even though she’s said it before, Sam is right. It isn’t just wishful thinking. Something does seem different. And maybe it’ll stick this time. Maybe knowing she’s carrying not one, but two lives inside her will be enough.

But if it isn’t. I need to start making a contingency plan.

As Gabby hands the phone back to Sam, and I confirm everything I need to, I end the call and pick up the pencil again.

I can’t control what happens with Gabby, and the multiple things that can go wrong from here on in.

But there is one thing I need to address before I try one more time to help my sister.

As I stare at the report, and at the drawing, and know I can’t just sit on this information.

I hurt Ellie, unintentionally, but I still hurt her. I need to find a way to make it up to her and show her I’m serious.

I stare at the drawing and add the final touch, an inscription I hope communicates my message.

When I’m done, I grab the phone and make sure the designer knows to clear his schedule.

This needs to be done right. I have one chance and there is no way in hell I’m messing it up again.

***

Ellie

It’s dark outside by the time I leave Ruth’s, eyes red, and face puffy from an afternoon spent commiserating.

When I left, it was with a promise to stay awhile, but it’s no longer for my own needs. I’m worried about her. If I thought she would, I’d ask her to move closer to me, but I know that she’d never leave Mexico.

She loves it here. Loves the land, the people, and to her, returning to a city would be torture.

I’m toying with the idea of moving closer to her and getting a job in a hospital here as I take a quick shower.

When I’m wrapped in a robe, I open a tiny bottle of brandy and pour a snifter out while I finger comb my hair.

I’m still trying to decide whether I should call Joss and talk things through with her when I hear a knock at my motel room door.

As if I conjured him here, Cooper is standing on the threshold, eyeing me. “Can I come in?”

I shake my head and try not to think about how he found me so easily. “You wasted your time coming here.”

I move to shut the door, but Cooper kicks his foot out. “I’m not one for grand gestures or speeches, but I didn’t come all this way just to see your aunt,” he says.

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say. We’re done.”

His voice comes out a growl. “You can keep running, but I’ll just keep following you until you hear me out.”

When I just glare at him, he gives me a toe-curling smile and takes my hand in his. “I will, you know. I got nothing else to do with my time but convince you to come back with me.”

I yank my hand away. “Please leave. I’m not interested. Why can’t you understand that?

He looks baffled as he cocks his head at me. “Fine. I’ll leave. But before I go, you need to know you had nothing to do with Lucy’s death.”

My fists clench at my sides, and I have to restrain myself from hitting him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“I looked at the autopsy report. She had type 1 diabetes. She never should have left the hospital.”

A choked sob escapes and I have to grip the doorframe. “What?” I whisper.

How could I have not pieced that together?

The answer slams into me.

I was sixteen.

I was fucking sixteen years old.

My parents were drug-using deadbeats who were more interested in getting high and partying than taking care of an incredibly sick baby they never wanted.

Disgust twists my stomach into knots as Cooper carries on. “There was nothing you could have done. The hospital was at fault. From the doctor who missed it, to the obstetrics team who let your mom walk out the door.”

I’m so shellshocked, I just shake my head in disbelief while he carries on explaining the unthinkable. “You did your best, Ellie. Better than the hospital, better than your parents, better than anyone could have done in the circumstances.”

I close my eyes as unpleasant reminders of my last few months living at home crush in painfully.

Cooper seems to recognize I’m trying to deal with the weight of the information and blows out a long sigh. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you weren’t at fault. It was a horrible, tragic mistake, but not yours.”

When I don’t speak, he shifts his weight and pushes a long square box into my hand. “I know I can’t do or say anything to help right now. But I made this for you. It’s not much, but it’s my way of apologizing for not being honest,” he says.

At the look of defeat on his face, I open the odd-shaped box expecting to see a bracelet or necklace. But as I open the box, I see it’s not a ring or jewelry, but a piece of paper.

Confusion growing, I unfurl the paper and scan the hand-drawn design.

It’s a design of an exquisite angel statue with wings cradling a baby.

Tears flood my eyes as I read the proposed inscription aloud. “Lucy. You were loved more than you could ever know.”

I’m so stunned, and my eyes are so blurry from unshed tears, I can barely see let alone think as Cooper hands me a glass.

I curl my fingers around the brandy I poured earlier and stumble towards the bed.

I take a gulp of the amber liquid, letting it soothe away with tremors wracking my body.

When I’m composed enough to speak, I look at him and find nothing but concern etched on his face. “You’re making it impossible to hate you,” I say.

He smiles as he sits beside me and holds up his hand so I can see a ring between his thumb and finger. “I asked you to come back with me, not for Gabby but for me. I need you, Ellie. Because I’m in love with you. I want to marry you.”

I stare at the ring, conflicting emotions slamming into me as I try to focus on what he’s saying.

But it’s too much, his closeness, the knowledge I couldn’t have saved Lucy and the wonderful gesture after an afternoon grieving, that I just want to feel something other than anguish.

I swallow as he gently lifts my hand and slides the ring over my finger. “I know it isn’t the way most people do things. But blood isn’t what makes a family or holds people together.”

It’s such a simple statement, but so completely succinct, I can’t disagree even though I know I can never condone what he’s done. “So underneath the lethal exterior, you’re just a giant teddy bear?”

He smiles but it’s a rueful one that lets me know he’s well aware we have a lot to discuss. “Yeah. Maybe. But don’t tell anyone. I have a badass reputation to uphold.”

I give him a teasing smile. “A badass safe house designer?”

He shakes his head and pulls the empty glass from my fingers. “That’s just who you think I am. Most people think I’m the dark mysterious, playboy millionaire type.”

I snort a laugh as he starts to kiss my neck until his words sink in. “Wait? What did you say?”

But he ignores me, just slides his hand up my leg, and nibbles on my ear lobe. I moan, nipples stiffening as his touch stirs lust to life. “Cooper, stop that, and answer the question?”

He sighs heavily and grips the back of my neck and draws me in closer. “Can we talk about this later?”

I try to protest, but when he kisses me again, my tongue is far too eager to meet his. “I love you, Ellie. Love everything about you. Especially love how you eat pasta.”

I give him a teasing smile. “Are you going to tell me what you said that night?”

A wicked grin appears before the words drip from his tongue. “Parlare sporco è meglio in italiano.”

I give up trying to get him to translate and just give in to his persistent kisses.

His tongue meshes with mine until I can’t stand it any longer. I tug at his shirt until his chest is exposed.

I lean forward and lick his skin, nibbling and licking his nipples working my way down to the top of his jeans.

I yank off my robe, and he grabs me and flips me on my back with a growl. I arch my back as he starts to press kisses to my skin.

He carries on kissing every inch of me until he’s between my legs. I moan as he pushes them apart and plunges his tongue into me.

Pleasure shoots through me as he licks and snakes his hands up my body so he can rub my nipples.

I close my eyes, enjoying every movement of his tongue as he brings me closer to orgasm.

My entire body is burning up as he starts to lick faster until I’m panting and writhing on the bed.

He keeps licking until I’m quivering and my entire body feels like it’s about to combust.

I grab his hair and hold him steady as guttural noises start to escape as I come in his mouth.

He shifts his weight and slides up so he can lie on top of me. His tongue meets mine and his kisses grow increasingly passionate as he fumbles with his jeans.

With a grunt, he slides his cock inside me. I scratch my nails down his back as he ruts almost with primal need until I’m coming again.

When I’m done, he pulls out, looking wild as he grabs me around the waist and pushes me to my knees.

I expect him to enter me again, but while I wait on all fours, it’s his tongue and not his cock that he uses.

He licks as if he’s savoring every part of me while I moan so loud I’m glad there isn’t anyone staying in the rooms on either side of me.

I’m almost ready to come again when he pushes his finger inside me and slowly starts to slide it in and out increasing the sensations rippling through my core.

When he licks my asshole and uses his finger to keep rubbing my clit, it’s so dirty I’m coming so hard I no longer care about anyone hearing.

I let out a cross between a wail and a moan as I come again. When I’m near collapsing on the bed, he moves and grabs me around the waist again.

He manages to get on his back with me still attached to him as I get his intent. I straddle him, slide his cock inside me, and relish the groan he releases as I start to rock my hips back and forth.

With his hands wandering all over my body, I ride him, rubbing my clit against him, and can feel every inch of him rubbing against my g-spot.

The pleasure is so intense and I’m so lubricated that I just let the orgasm overtake my entire body.

I open my mouth, a half-smile on my face as I ride the wave of an insanely deep climax.

My body shudders as an exquisite orgasm overtakes me making me pant like I’m in pain.

When I’ve finished, Cooper flips me over and starts to pound me so hard, it’s almost aggressive.

I grab his ass cheeks and dig my nails in while he starts to whisper in my ear. “Mi piace scopare te. I love fucking you. Potrei mangiarti la figa tutto il giorno. I could eat your pussy all day.”

If I wasn’t already giddy with lust that would have done it. I throw my head back and spur him on to pound me harder. “Fuck me, fuck me harder, harder,” I pant.

He growls and starts to speed up until I’m screaming his name, and I’m digging my nails in so hard I’m sure I’ve drawn blood.

But he doesn’t seem to care as he leans back, his mouth opens wide and his eyes locked on me as his face contorts in pleasure. “I love you. I fucking love you. Ti amo, cazzo,” he gasps.

He collapses on top of me, catching his breath as I try to find mine. When he’s recovered enough to move, he rolls off me and flops on his back. “Shit you’re amazing,” he says.

I chuckle and move closer so he can wrap his arm around me. I snuggle up to him and run my hand down his chest, feeling his heartbeat start to slow as he recovers.

I let him have a few minutes before I ask the question I know he avoided. “Not to spoil the moment, but I thought your family cut you and Gabby off?”

He shrugs languidly and starts to stroke the skin on my shoulder. “I cut myself off. But that doesn’t mean I’m broke.”

Any annoyance I had at his non-answer is lost when he looks at me. “Giving me an answer would be a good way to find out everything you want to know.”

My face twists into a frown. “Are you talking about marrying you or working in the clinic?’

He grins. “Both. Or one. As long as the one is marrying me.”

It’s impossible not to smile as I lie in his arms, he’s an infuriating paradox, he’s opening himself about his past, but he’s still not being completely honest with me.

Rather than thinking about everything that is wrong with this situation or us, I think about how right we are and how amazing this feels.

I may never be able to reconcile what he’s done in the past to make money, but I can’t say my past has been squeaky clean either.

And maybe if the judge hadn’t been so kind, I may have found myself in entirely different circumstances.

It’s only by the grace of God that I managed to find a way to pour all my guilt into something useful.

I hold out my hand and examine the diamond ring that he pushed on my finger. It seems oddly out of place like I’m borrowing it and it really doesn’t belong to me.

But when Cooper speaks there’s nothing but commitment in his words. “I was thinking maybe we could get married in New Mexico. I’d love to meet your aunt.”

I turn on my side and run my hand down his cheek stubble. “What about Gabby? How does she feel about you raising her baby in Westdale with me?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “You mean what if she changes her mind at some point?”

I nod, pleased to see he’s thought of it too. “She’s having twins. That’s a lot for any single mom to handle, let alone Gabby,” he says.

I suck in a breath. “What? She’s tiny for five months.”

He shrugs. “That’s why I’m going to make sure she looks after herself and make sure she gets the best care.”

I flinch at the finality to his tone. “I know it sounds harsh. But what Gabby needs more than anything right now is tough love. She knows if she messes up, I’ll call the police myself and have her locked up for her own good.”

My eyebrows rise. “You’d do that to her?”

His forehead wrinkles as he frowns. “I’d do it for the kids.”

It’s such a sweet thing to say, that English just doesn’t feel right. “Mi tía te va a amar,” I say.

He smiles. “Spanish?”

I shrug. “You aren’t the only one who’s bilingual. I just don’t throw it around during sex.”

He laughs and manages to look wildly sexy and serious at the same time. “We can do this. I know it won’t be easy, and I know there might be a million problems along the way, but—"

I smile. “You never forgive yourself if you don’t?”

He nods. “I want them to have everything they need. Not just money, but great parents. A real family. A mom. And I don’t know if Gabby can ever be that for them.”

It’s a wonderful sentiment, but as methodical as he’s been there are so many potential pitfalls he can’t possibly know about.

He has no way of knowing how Gabby will react when her babies are born or if the twins will ongoing health issues.

“Okay. I’ll marry you, but I have a condition,” I say.

A worry line forms on his brow. “What is it?”

Even as I say it, I know it’s a huge risk asking him to reconsider. “I know you think you’ve factored everything in, but if Gabby has a compelling reason to get clean and stay clean, do you really want to take that reason away from her?”

The worry lines seem to amplify. “You think she’ll change her mind and want to be a mom?”

I touch his face. “I don’t know. I have seen it before. The most unlikely mothers completely change their lives. Gabby isn’t going to have it easy, but she has a huge amount of support and resources most parents don’t have. I have to think that with our support her odds of succeeding are way higher.”

He nods slowly, a smile curling at the corners of his lips. “And if she can’t cope, we’re right there to step in. It’s the perfect solution.”

And it is perfect. I just hope Gabby can see it for the amazing opportunity it is.

His expression turns serious as he looks into my eyes. “You know what I’m thinking?”

I run my fingers through his hair and frown. “What?”

His smile turns into a smirk. “Despite your best efforts to avoid it, you might get a happy ending after all,” he says.

I start to laugh and don’t stop until my stomach muscles are cramping and I’m kissing him so hard my lips lose feeling.

When he looks ready to make love to me again, I decide it’s my turn to lay a surprise on him. “I think I should warn you. I was wrong about not being able to get pregnant.”

His entire body goes stiff. “You aren’t, are you?”

At the panic on his face, I smother a laugh. “Too early to say. But I could be. Is that a problem?” I say.

All the muscles in his face relax before his lip curls into a cheeky smile. “Only if I’m not the father,” he says.

***

Thanks so much for choosing to read One Wild Weekend With Cooper.

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Lexi ❤

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© Lexi Hart 2020

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Lexi Hart is the pen name of a crazy Kiwi romance junkie who prefers to live in the heads of her characters than her own.

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