Cooper (Wild Boys After Dark, #4)(3)



He’d intended to tell the world about Cici after he’d returned home from the festival four years ago, but the attack on his parents had changed everything. He’d grown since then, though, found his footing, reconnected with the man he used to be. And this weekend he was on a mission. Now that they were here, he was glad he’d revealed the truth to Jackson and Erica. He couldn’t have kept the nervous buzz traveling through him from either of them. They’d have seen right through whatever smoke screen he tried to erect.

He’d planned on coming to the film festival alone, but after he’d told Jackson about Cici, Jackson had gotten that older-brother worry in his eyes and had said he’d always wanted to photograph the festival. They were used to photographing the elite who came to them, not climbing on board a gravy train that half the photogs on the East Coast were taking part in. Jackson’s excuse was a load of shit, and they both knew it, but Cooper also knew how hard he’d fallen after his father had died, and the Wild brothers were steadfast in their protectiveness of one another. He couldn’t have dissuaded Jackson if his life had depended on it.

But Cici was here, and that was all that mattered.

“I wish you had a picture of her so I could help scope her out,” Erica said. “Jackson wouldn’t even let me search for her online.”

He’d checked the photographer list and had seen her name. She still had the same last name, thank f*cking God. At least there was some hope she hadn’t gotten married. He could have had Logan, his oldest brother and a private investigator, check her out and give him the full scoop, but he wasn’t about to breach her privacy that way.

“Thank you for respecting my wishes with regard to not searching for her,” he said to Erica.

“I still wish you would have at least called her or gotten in contact with her somehow,” Erica added. “I mean, after the way you said you left things...”

Cooper downed his drink and pushed the glass across the table. Erica had warned him that while he was still feeling all those warm and wonderful feelings about Cici, she sure as hell might not be feeling anything even close to that for him. He got that; he really did. But now that he’d come out from under the fog of grief, he wasn’t about to let Cici go without a fight. If there was the slightest chance she’d take him back after all these years, he was going to fight for it.

“You won’t need a picture. She’ll be the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with hair as black as mine and eyes so blue they’re nearly translucent. And her smile.” His chest warmed at the memory of her sexy-as-hell smile, which gave away all of her emotions. “Her smile could knock a man to his knees.”

How many times had he conjured up images of Cici—straddling him in the hotel room, her full breasts and rosy nipples pulling him over the edge as she arched back, lost in pleasure? Or lying naked beneath him, gazing up at him like he was her world—and holy f*ck did he ever want to be. He could still feel that pull now, lust and love brewing low in his gut, making him feel powerful and vulnerable at once.

And like the giant prick Cici probably thought he was.

He closed his eyes, uttering a curse beneath his breath as he tried to get ahold of his emotions.

“You know what? This is a lot f*cking harder than I thought it would be.” He couldn’t sit there for another second hoping she’d show up. He rose to his feet and tossed a handful of cash onto the table. He wanted to do this right, and right wasn’t waiting around for a coincidence to happen. There was only one reason he’d come back to Bay City, and he was going to find her.





Chapter Two


CICI NIXED TEGAN’S idea for a drink and a quick f*ck. She hadn’t had a quick f*ck since…well, since Cooper, and she wasn’t about to start now. She had a stable life with her daughter and a heart that was locked away behind steel doors, and she liked it that way. She kicked off her heels and dug through her carry-on for her Kindle. Not having had many nights to herself since giving birth to Melody, she was excited about relaxing with a little room service. A bottle of wine, a cheese plate, and a side of French bread—her favorite foods—add in a little quiet and a hot romance novel. Heaven. Book boyfriends were the best kind of men in the world. No fuss, no small talk, no lies, no broken hearts. She brought them out when she needed them and put them away for later.

Like a good sex toy.

She eyed her bag, debating taking that little friend out to play for a while, when a knock on the door startled her brain back into submission.

My wine awaits!

As she pulled the door open, her stomach immediately took a nosedive, her legs nearly giving out at the sight of Cooper Wild looking hot as sin. Her breath left her lungs in a rush as she tried to get her brain to fire. He was here. All six-foot-three, thickly muscled, darkly handsome inches of him standing before her. Here. Now.

Holy crap.

She’d thought about this moment for four long years. She’d even mapped out what she’d say, but now, as she struggled to remember how to breathe, her brain had gone to shit.

“Celeste.” His lips curved up at the edges, bringing his closely cropped beard with it.

Lord, hearing her name slide from his lips sent shudders of heat rippling through her. How the hell did he do that after all this time, after all the tears? And that beard? When did he grow that? And why did it have to look so freaking hot? Like ten days’ scruff so perfectly manicured that she imagined it scratching her thighs.

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