Page 4 of Rebels and Roses

It was a short walk to her apartment, located on the edge of campus. The two-story brick building was modest and unassuming on a block of several other structures almost identical. Housing had sprung up around the campus after World War II, and now the streets near Winslow University were lined with unofficial student housing.

Personally, Jane liked living near the students. While it could get noisy at times, it was also constantly alive. Even now at almost midnight, there were still lights on in the windows and people outside. She’d never worried about her safety since she was never completely alone.

She flipped on the light and locked her front door behind her, picking up the mail that she’d earlier stacked on the foyer table. Junk, junk, and the electric bill. She paid it online, but they still sent her a paper statement every month.

She tossed her keys onto the kitchen table and headed straight for the refrigerator, grabbing a half-empty bottle of chardonnay. She didn’t drink often, but sometimes a glass before bed helped her unwind and relax. She should have been exhausted, but instead, her mind was working a hundred miles an hour wondering why Cooper’s ex-wife was suddenly in town.

Fiona.

Jane had never known anyone with that name. She had some inkling in the back of her mind that Fiona was from Britain, but she couldn’t say for sure why she thought that. Maybe it was something one of the Winslow siblings had said. Not Cooper, though. He didn’t talk about Fiona all that much.

Or at all.

He’d mentioned that he was divorced and that was it. Jane had asked him once if his ex knew that he was a successful author, and he’d said yes. She was there at the beginning, so she was aware. Other than that, they hadn’t talked much about their pasts. They’d lived almost exclusively in the present.

She quickly shed her clothes and jumped into the hot shower, letting the soapy water slide down her skin as the spray pounded on her sore shoulders. Erotic images filled her head as she replayed the events of the evening…

Cooper touching her here and there. His lips and tongue. Those all-too-talented fingers that could make her shudder and moan so easily. He seemed to have mapped out every single erogenous zone of her all too willing body. Bracing herself, her palms against the tile wall, she groaned as she stretched her spine. Too many late nights hunched over her laptop. Lucy was always saying that they both needed to make time for yoga class.

Note to self. Go to yoga class. You’re not twenty-two anymore.

After her shower, Jane pulled on fresh panties and an oversized t-shirt before padding into the kitchen to pour that glass of wine. Curling into the cushions of the sofa, she clicked through the channels on the television, finally settling on a cooking show where the cheerful lady demonstrated how to cut up a raw chicken.

Jane’s phone was right there on the end table where she’d placed it when she came home. She could pick it up and call Lucy. Yes, it was late. Far too late to be bothering a friend, but Jane had an overwhelming urge to talk to someone. It would be even better if it was someone she was close to, someone who understood her.

Except that Lucy didn’t know about Jane and Cooper. She’d kept their dalliance a secret, although she sometimes thoughther friend was suspicious. This need had come and gone before. She’d ignored it then, and she was going to ignore it tonight.

Lucy would never be angry at Jane for calling so late, but that didn’t mean it was polite to do it. Her hand hovered over the cell phone, indecision in her mind. She wanted to tell someone she was seeing Cooper. She wanted to tell them that his ex-wife was now in town. She wanted…

What in the hell did she want?

She needed to remind herself that she didn’t care if Fiona was here. That she didn’t feelthatway about Cooper. No hearts involved. Just bodies. It had all been so easy and carefree.

Until tonight.

Fiona, why are you in Winslow Heights? And what do you want from Cooper?

Jane had a feeling that sleep wouldn’t come easily.

2

Cooper pushed open the door of his brother Tate’s tavern, his gaze scanning the room. The lighting was dim, but from his vantage point, he couldn’t see anyone who looked like Fiona. It had been some years, but he was sure that he’d recognize her in a room of perhaps two dozen people.

His brother was working behind the bar, and Cooper sidled up, ready to order a drink.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Actually, I’m here because I received a text from Fiona. She said that she was waiting for me here, but I don’t see her.”

Tate didn’t have a chance to reply. A hand came down on Cooper’s shoulder, and he spun around expecting to see his ex-wife.

It wasn’t her.

It was Tom, Fiona’s younger brother. Cooper would have recognized him anywhere. He hadn’t changed much, although his face was leaner, and his shoulders and chest were wider. How old had Tom been the last time they’d seen each other? Maybe twenty-two or three? He’d be almost thirty now.

Letting out a relieved breath he didn’t even know he was holding, Cooper rubbed at his temple which was now beginning to throb with a headache. He should be home in bed right now.

“Dammit, Tom. What game are you playing here?”

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