Page 22 of Relief Pitcher

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

“What would you normally do on a stormy Sunday in the murder forest? Polish your tree stethoscope?”

“I only do that every third Wednesday,” he deadpanned.

I laughed. Maybe that was why I wanted to stick around. I enjoyed hanging out with people who could keep up with—or at least tolerate—my humor.

“Probably dozing off while watching TV. It’s a thrilling life I lead.”

I ignored his self-deprecating tone. “Well, since you’ve got a day off, what do you want to do?”

I licked my lips at the heat in Coop’s gaze. He popped up from his chair, and instead of striding toward me, he left the bedroom again.

“I want to check something. Be right back.”

“Sure. I’ll just lie here looking hot then.” I reached under the blanket and gave my dick a stroke.

Coop came back with folded material in his hand. He walked over and handed it to me, then rubbed the back of his neck.

“I hand-washed them earlier and laid them in front of the heater to dry, in case you’d be more comfortable in your own underwear. Your other clothes are in the dryer. I googled how to wash these and read not to put them in the machine.”

I stared at my clean and pristine panties, then looked at Coop. “You washed these for me?” I struggled to process the gesture.

He frowned. “Is that weird? That’s probably weird. I shouldn’t have touched your underwear. I didn’ttouchthemtouch them, but—” He let out a resigned groan.

I grinned. Coop not only accepted that part of me but encouraged it. There was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable sensation in my chest. Probably heartburn from too much coffee. The doubt on his face made that feeling in my chest sharpen. I yanked the blanket off to reveal my naked body. “How about you put these on me so we can get them all dirty again?”

* * *

“Of course thehusband did it. He was ‘conveniently’ out of town on a ‘business trip’ when she was killed.” I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

“But it could be that creepy guy at her work. See? He’s got a murdery look about him.”

Our fuck fest had turned into true-crime time when neither of us could get it up again. But if Coop wanted to try again, I would do my best to rally. A piece of him seemed to unwind with each orgasm.

I hadn’t expected to lounge on his couch in our underwear with a giant bowl of popcorn between us, but I didn’t hate it. Turned out to be a relaxing evening, which I needed after a stressful few weeks at work.

“My husband and I used to place bets on who the killer was. A couple of shows are written to keep you guessing until the end.”

I might have to ask and make a note of them for later.

Coop tensed next to me. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

He frowned. “Bringing up Aleck.”

I frowned. “Why are you apologizing for that?”

“Because it makes people sad when I talk about my dead husband.”

“Not me. I didn’t know him.” I replayed the words in my head at Coop’s wide eyes. “Okay, that sounds like something a heartless murderer on these shows would say. I mean, since I didn’t know him, it doesn’t hurt me the same way. I’d like to hear about him.” Which was true. I had to admit I was curious about the guy who had lived with Coop in the middle of nowhere.

Coop tilted his head and studied me before turning back to the television. “Aleck was the reason I watched this stuff initially. Well, his sister, my best friend, Danita. She made us watch true crime and Hallmark movies. She says she needs the balance of good and evil. He started liking them, and then I was outnumbered.”

“Majority rules will get ya every time.”

A corner of his mouth curled up in a faint smile. “He was obsessed with crows too.”

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