Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(22)

“I wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping around with some Garnet clone. I do have an image to protect.”

“Right, of course. Wouldn’t want anyone confusing you for a man of taste.”

He bites back a smile, and in that fleeting look, I see all sorts of bad intentions. I see blurry nights and wild regrets. Heavy breathing. It’s enough to make my pulse spike and my toes go numb.

This guy is dangerous.

“Coop!” someone calls from the jobsite. “You coming to the bar or what?”

He glances over his shoulder. “Go on without me.”

Knowing laughter tickles our backs. I’m glad Cooper’s coworkers can’t see my face because I’m fairly certain I’m blushing.

“Why’d you have to do that?” I grumble.

“Do what? Tell them I’m not going to the bar?”

“Yeah. Now they’re going to think you stayed behind to bang me on the beach or something.”

He gives a deep chuckle. “I guarantee they weren’t thinking that. But now I am. Would you like to bang here, or should we go under the pier?”

“Go to the bar with your little friends, Coop. You’ll have a better shot of getting laid there than here.”

“Nah. I’m good where I am.” He lifts one hand and rakes it through his dark hair, and I can’t help but stare at his flexing biceps.

“So you guys are fixing up that restaurant?” I force myself to stop gawking at his very sexy muscles. “It looks like a huge job.”

“It is. And once we’re done this one, we have about, oh, half a dozen more buildings to renovate.” He waves that sculpted arm toward the boardwalk, highlighting the destruction left by the hurricane.

“Do you like working in construction?”

He nods slowly. “I do, yeah. Evan and I work for our uncle’s company, so we don’t have to deal with some jackass boss who tries to rip us off or does shoddy work to cut costs. Levi is a good man, fair. And I’ve always been good with my hands.”

I gulp. There’s no overt innuendo in his tone, but I’ll be damned if my gaze doesn’t shift to his hands. They’re strong, big, with long fingers and callused palms. No dirt under his nails, even after a day of manual labor.

“What about you, princess?” He tips his head, curious.

“What about me?”

“This is the second time I’ve walked up to you and seen that look on your face.”

“What look?” Apparently, I just repeat everything he says now. But the intensity in his eyes has triggered a rush of anxiety.

“The look that says you want more.”

“I want more …And what more do I want?”

He continues to study me. “I don’t know. Just more. It’s like … a mixture of boredom, dissatisfaction, frustration, and yearning.”

“That’s a lot of shit packed into one look,” I joke, but my heart is beating faster now, because he’s pretty much summed it up. That’s been my state of mind since I got to college. No, even longer—dare I say, my entire life.

“Am I wrong?” he asks roughly.

Our gazes lock. The urge to confide in him is so strong I have to bite the tip of my tongue to stop myself.

Suddenly, amidst the crashing waves and screeching seagulls, I hear a faint yelping.

“Did you hear that?” I look around for the source of the pained, desperate noise.

Cooper chuckles. “Stop trying to distract me.”

“I’m not. Seriously, don’t you hear it?”

“Hear what? I don’t—”

“Shhh!” I order.

I listen, straining to discern another clue. It’s getting darker, with the lights from the boardwalk overtaking the dwindling dusk. Another yelp rings out, this one louder.

I jump to my feet.

“It’s nothing,” Cooper says, but I ignore him and follow the sound toward the pier. He jogs after me, his voice frazzled as he assures me I’m imagining things.

“I’m not imagining it,” I insist.

And then I see it, the source of the yelps. Beyond the pier, on the jetty, I make out a shape stranded on the rocks as the tide comes in.

Heart pounding, I whirl around to face Cooper. “It’s a dog!”





CHAPTER NINE


COOPER

Before I can blink, Mackenzie tears her dress off.

As in, this chick is actually getting naked.

No, not naked, I realize when she doesn’t remove her bra and underwear. My disappointment over the strip show ending prematurely is dimmed by the fact that she looks pretty goddamn good in a bra and underwear.

But as she runs into the rising tide and is quickly swallowed up to her neck, the rational part of my brain kicks in.

“Mac!” I shout after her. “Get back here, damn it!”

She’s already swimming away.

Awesome. She’s gonna drown trying to get that mangy stray back to shore.

Grumbling curses under my breath, I strip out of my jeans and shoes and chase after Mackenzie, who has reached the rocks and is now climbing up to the dog. I swim hard against the current, as the waves try to throw me against the pier’s pylons or slam me into the rocks. Finally, I grab on to one of the boulders and haul myself out of the water.