Cooper (Wild Boys After Dark, #4)(14)

But no. That wasn’t about to happen.

Even when they’d spent every minute of every day together, he’d never been the least bit jerky.

Damn him.

She pressed her hands, and her forehead, to his chest and sighed. How could she feel so conflicted? She wanted to stay right there against his warm body and pretend that this was reality. That they’d somehow traveled back in time to when they’d first met and had never gone their separate ways. Maybe then she could have helped him through his father’s death and the attack on his mother.

Oh God, your mother. She’d been so busy that she hadn’t fully processed the magnitude of everything his family had gone through. His father’s death was weighing heavily in her thoughts, but his mother had been blinded, left for dead—and she’d lost her husband. That poor woman. She couldn’t imagine the emotional or physical recovery she must have gone through. When Cici finally looked into Cooper’s eyes, he was still smiling, though his blue eyes darkened and his grip around her waist tightened, and suddenly everything she felt—betrayal, loneliness, anger—seemed selfish.

“We’ll talk,” he said quietly. “I promise. You and me. Tonight. We’ll talk until every question is answered.”

“How can you possibly know that’s what I needed to hear?” The feel of his arms, strong and sure, and the confident, loving gaze he set on her, coalesced, and she knew the answer. He’d always known.

Which made her wonder, with their deep connection, how could he have gone so long without contacting her?

***

THE DAY WAS a blur of running from photo call to photo call and hitting the press lounge in between to review the pictures they’d taken. They’d photographed celebrities as they’d arrived at the after-parties, and now it was almost eight o’clock and they were back in their separate hotel rooms, getting ready for their evening together.

Being back at the festival, and spending the day with Cici, reminded Cooper of how his life used to be—how it had been when they’d met, when he was still chasing every dollar. He’d come so far since then. His life was a world away from being one of two hundred photographers on a photo call. His and Jackson’s studio hosted exclusive photo shoots of these very same celebrities, along with top models and accomplished executives in every industry. Going back to his roots should make him feel all the more proud of his accomplishments, but he hadn’t had room for pride today, not when every time he looked at Cici he could see hundreds of unanswered questions haunting her.

She’d been hot and cold all day, at times falling into a kiss, her body melting against his, and then, as if she’d remembered the silent years between them, she’d pulled away. He couldn’t blame her. Hell, he’d have thought it odd if she didn’t react that way, but that didn’t mean it didn’t burn anew each time.

He’d loved watching her this afternoon. She’d been relentless in her pursuit of the perfect picture. She’d moved around pedestrians, unobtrusively snapping shots of A-list actors, always thanking them with a gracious smile. Unlike many photographers who moved like thieves, stealing what they could, Cici was proud of every shot she took. She had the same energy, the same enthusiasm for the business she’d had when they’d first met. Back then she’d had big plans. Every shot she’d taken she’d hoped would land her in the big leagues and enable her to open her own studio in a bigger city, where she’d specialize in taking pictures of children and families. He wondered what had happened to those plans and whether his break from reality had caused a shift in them.

Before heading over to Cici’s hotel room to pick her up for dinner, Cooper called his mother to see how she was doing. He’d taken photographs today of some of her favorite actors. Before the attack, he would have texted a few to her. Now he would describe them to her and hope he did them justice. She’d lost so much more than just her sight and the man she loved to the murderous intruder. Cooper had taken for granted his ability to see, to drive, to decide when to cross a street based on nothing more than a quick glance, but no more. Now he appreciated all of it.

His mother answered on the second ring. “Cooper, sweetie, how are you?” He and his brothers had added distinct ringtones on her phone, so she would know who was calling.

He smiled at the sound of her voice, which had always had a way of centering him. She’d been a stable force in his life, just as his father had been. He fisted his hands against the ache of loss he felt whenever he thought of his father and focused on the call.

“I’m good, Ma. Did Heath come by tonight?” Heath was a doctor, four years older than Cooper. He’d recently gotten engaged to Allyson Jenner, who was a lab tech at the hospital where Heath worked.

“Yes. He and Ally are here now, and we’re going to that new Italian restaurant in town,” she answered. “How is the festival? Are you boys having fun? Is Erica enjoying herself?”

“I haven’t seen them today, but we’ve texted, and she seems to be enjoying it. It’s crazy, but a good kind of crazy. You know how these things go.” In the early days of his career everything had been a thrill, and he’d shared much of what went on at these events with his mother. “I was just calling to tell you about some of the pictures I took of your favorite actors.”

He spent the next half hour describing the celebrities, what they were wearing, their facial expressions, and the looks in their eyes. Their mother had a thing for eyes. She believed you could tell everything about a person by their eyes, and it was one of the things Cooper knew she missed most. Being able to rely on those visual clues to gauge others. Namely, her sons. But she’d honed her other senses, listening to the cadence of their steps, their breathing, touching their faces and reading their expressions that way.