Page 23 of Claws and Feathers

Cooper turned the music down when she approached. Abby poked her head inside, her hands gripping the side of the door. “You know, Daphne has this really cute porch I never use. Want to have coffee with me?”

She had never invited him inside before. She’d always just left him alone in his car. Mostly because she didn’t know how to even go about such an invitation, but also because alone time with Cooper unnerved her. And not in a bad way – in a confusing way. She felt…things.

Things she couldn’t quite explain.

Maybe it was something in the enticing June air that nudged her over to Cooper’s open window. Maybe it was the mix of music coming from his radio and the nest of songbirds overhead. Or maybe – justmaybe– it was simply because she wanted to.

Cooper studied her as he allowed her words to sink in. There was a moment of indecisiveness on his face, possibly due to the abruptness of her offer, or possibly because he was also feeling…things. Cooper was difficult to read.

“I could do coffee.”

Abby flashed him a smile as she stood up straight. “Cream or sugar?”

“Just black,” he replied.

As she made her way inside, Abby thought of Nana and her love for coffee.

“You can tell a lot about a man by how he takes his coffee,” she’d said to her one morning as they lounged on the back patio with hot mugs in hand. “If he takes it black, he’s a simple, no-nonsense fella. He won’t play games with that beautiful heart of yours. Remember that, dear.”

Abby chuckled to herself, running her fingers through her hair as she traipsed into the kitchen. Jordan hated coffee. She wondered if that was why Nana had never approved of him.

A few minutes later, she met Cooper on the front porch. He was already seated on the porch swing, his ankle propped up on his opposite knee. His eyes followed her as she handed over the ceramic mug. “I’m not exactly a barista, but I’m sure you’ve had worse.”

“I honestly think I run on black coffee alone.” He grinned as he accepted the mug. “It’s hard to disappoint me.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Abby cringed at the double innuendo in her tone. Was that her pathetic way offlirting? She eyed the pistol in his holster and silently begged it to put her out of her misery.Just make it quick.

She took a seat beside him, careful not to allow the swing to move too much and prompt the scalding coffee to go splashing over the sides. Although, third degree burns sounded like a welcome distraction to the awkward silence she had inevitably incited.

Cooper cleared his throat. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate the hospitality.”

Abby turned her head to gaze at him as she sipped delicately on her brew. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for not offering sooner. “It’s the least I can do. I’m sure you’ve been bored out of your mind sitting in the driveway for hours on end.”

“I don’t really get bored,” he told her. “My mind is always moving. Besides, I have an endless supply of podcasts to listen to.”

“What do you like?” she inquired.

His eyes trailed over her, and Abby couldn’t help but tingle under his innocent perusal.

“Mostly murder.” He let a smile slip as he brought the coffee mug to his mouth.

Abby puckered her lips, nodding her head. “If you were anything but a cop, I’d be borderline creeped out.”

“I guess it’s good I’m a cop then.”

His eyes lingered, forcing her to turn away. Abby smoothed out the fabric of her halter dress and leaned back against the swing. It swayed at a languid pace as she collected her thoughts. “So, Cooper McAllister. Tell me about yourself. You seem to know an awful lot about me – I’d say it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

He matched her movements, leaning back and placing his unoccupied hand on top of his knee.

He had nice hands.

Ugh.

“Born and raised in The Crow,” Cooper began, using his feet to gently glide the swing. “Not exactly something to brag about, but it’s my home. I had grand plans of moving to New York and becoming a fancy F.B.I. agent, but I never made it past ‘small-town cop’.”

Abby could sense a sliver of disappointment in his voice. She tried to subdue it. “Well… I can’t say I’m sorry about that.” She was referencing his heroic rescue mission, but her tone managed to teeter on the brink of flirtatious innuendoagain. She braved his stare and gulped. His hazel eyes were gleaming with amber flecks. Traces of amusement reflected back at her as his mouth pulled into a smile.