Page 30 of The Cowboy Complication

11

Isla

“YOU JINXED ME with all your poop talk.” Isla came out the front door of Betty’s house feeling a little frazzled as she skipped down the steps toward where Cooper was waiting to take her home. “I think two of them shit their pants on the drive here.”

“I’m not the one who took them for beans and margaritas.” He hooked one arm around her shoulders, directing her to the passenger side of his cruiser. The weight of it was warm and grounding after the chaotic fifteen minutes she’d just gone through. “I’d say they should know their own limits, but if they don’t have a healthy respect for their bowels at this point, it’s never going to happen.”

Isla’s head tipped back on a laugh, relaxing even more now that it was just her and Cooper again. “I guess it was a good test for my driving skills. If I can stay on the road while a car full of retirees are farting it up and trying not to fill their pants, I should be able to handle most of what comes at me.”

“That’s a great way to look at it.” Cooper opened the door, waiting as she dropped into the seat. “The question is, will you be their DD again?”

“I don’t think being their DD is a one-man job.” She wiggled her brows at him. “So next time you have to help me.”

“Deal.” He said it without hesitation then closed her in, rounding the front of his car to take his place behind the wheel.

“Plus, I was bored in there without you.” She buckled up, her eyes moving over the computerized interior. “If you come, at least I’ll have someone to talk to while they fight about who the hottest Jeopardy contestant was this week.”

Going out was something she’d always imagined as exciting and fun, maybe even a little wild. Her time at The Creekery wasn’t what she would call exciting—or fun, really—but it could qualify as wild. Especially the last—pants pooping—bit.

“Out of curiosity, who was the hottest Jeopardy contestant?” Cooper flashed her a grin.

“I left to come find you halfway through the argument because I didn’t care.” She groaned, feeling like a jerk. “I love them and they are fantastic, but man that was a lot.”

Cooper shifted into reverse and backed out of the short driveway. “I get it.” He aimed for downtown. “But you’re stuck with them now. They’ve decided they love you, so there’ll be no getting rid of them.”

That made her smile. “That’s okay. I love them too.” She wrinkled her nose. “They just never get beans again.”

Cooper laughed, the sound filling a little of the rough edges ground in from all the noise and congestion at The Creekery. “I think that’s a good rule to put into place.”

A voice filled the car, listing off a location and a set of identifying numbers.

Cooper’s gaze sharpened, his whole demeanor shifting as he reached for the mic strapped to his shoulder. He responded, giving their approximate location before saying he would be on his way in five minutes.

She waited to be sure he was done talking before asking, “Is everything okay?”

“Just a normal Friday night.” He sped up a little, coasting faster along the dark road. “We’ve got a reported break-in right outside of downtown and they want backup. I’m the closest, so as soon as I drop you off, I have to head there.”

He made a few more turns then they were coming at her building from the back side. Cooper pulled right up to the entry door she used and jumped out, staying right beside her as she unlocked the door leading into the small vestibule separating the restaurant from the staircase leading up.

“Thank you for taking me home.” She turned, expecting to find him rushing back to his car to get to the call, but Cooper was still close, his eyes scanning the lot like he was worried someone might step out of the shadows. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. The break-in was just pretty close to here.” He tipped his head toward her apartment. “Go inside. Lock the door and text me when you’re done.”

She nodded, wishing she could linger with him a little longer. “Yeah, okay.”

Going in, she locked the main door then rushed up the stairs, letting herself into the apartment Mae, the owner of The Wooden Spoon, rented to her month to month until she got her feet under her.

As soon as the deadbolt was in place, Isla rushed through the space, going to the window in her bedroom that overlooked the back lot. She pulled out her phone and sent Cooper a message, peering out into the darkness to find he was still there. The phone in his hand lit up, likely with her message. He looked at the screen then his eyes lifted to where she stood watching him. Isla automatically waved, feeling like an idiot for staring at him yet again.

And getting caught, yet again.

But then Cooper waved back, offering a wink that had her heart skipping a beat, before climbing into his cruiser and pulling away. She watched as his taillights faded into the night, her chest going tight as he raced right toward a potentially dangerous situation.

He was strong. He was smart and careful. He was experienced and wouldn’t purposefully put himself in a bad situation. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything when the individual on the other side of the situation wasn’t a good person.

Worry for his safety had her pacing the floor, going back and forth so many times she started to get dizzy. Not a good plan of action. She needed to distract herself. To occupy her body and her mind until he sent her a text. He would text her the first second he could. He always did.

So she went to take a shower, deciding it was a good idea to wash the bar off her skin and out of her hair. Her cell sat silent on the counter as she scrubbed down, each passing minute twisting the worry in her gut tighter.

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