The One Real Thing
Page 84

Jess didn’t spend every night in his bed. The times she worked the evening shift at the inn she usually spent the night there. Sometimes he’d go to her; sometimes he didn’t. Most times she came to him, though. And for the past four times that she’d spent the night with him in the last week she’d had nightmares.
Nightmares she wouldn’t talk about.
Well, Cooper was done not talking about it. “Tell me what’s going on.”
To his disappointment and frustration Jess pulled away and sat up, running shaking hands through her hair. “Nothing is going on.”
He tried not to let that burn.
But fuck, it burned.
The only spare time he hadn’t spent with Jess since she’d moved to Hartwell permanently was when she insisted on him having his alone time with his nephew. The kid had been despondent since his audition for the fancy tutor in Dover hadn’t gone so well. To all their surprise Joey had gotten a severe case of stage fright and mucked up his piece. The tutor had been kind, told Cat that he saw great potential, but said that Joey needed to be exposed to more public performances to build his confidence. They were to bring him back to the guy in a year.
But kids were kids and they were impatient. Joey was crushed.
Joey needed him—Jess saw that and was happy to step aside even though things between them were intense and it was hard not to want to spend every moment with each other.
It just reinforced everything Cooper already knew: Jessica Huntington was the opposite of his selfish ex-wife in every way. She was kind, considerate, and generous.
And he’d never felt this way about anyone before.
He couldn’t stop thinking about her, he wanted to touch her all the time, and he just felt . . . full of her.
The problem was that the independence and self-reliance that he’d so admired in her was now the thing that was keeping her from him. He’d thought when they first started seeing each other that not having to be responsible for her would be refreshing. Now Cooper realized he was just that guy. Caretaker guy. He didn’t want her to give up who she was, but he wanted her to let him at least look after her a little. To let him in so he could help with whatever the fuck it was that was bothering her.
But she wouldn’t let him.
And that shit stung.
He tried to rein in his annoyance. “It’s not nothing, Jessica. I make that the fourth nightmare in a week. And that’s only when you’re with me.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him, her expression completely closed off. Her voice was flat when she said, “I told you I’d stay at the inn tonight, that I didn’t want to bother you.”
His annoyance hit full-on anger. “It isn’t about fucking bothering me. It’s about what’s bothering you.” People didn’t have these kinds of continued nightmares over nothing. He already knew there was something in Jess’s past that she was hiding, but now he was really starting to worry about it. She’d refused to be emotionally involved with a guy before him; she’d had nothing to hold on to back in Wilmington; her empty life . . . her secret past . . . that was starting to bother him. He feared there was something big she wasn’t telling him.
“Nothing is bothering me,” she said in that same flat tone.
“You’re lying.”
She sighed and looked away. He saw the muscle in her jaw flex. “Fine. It’s something.” She stared back at him, her eyes hard. Anytime he probed about her past she got cold and hard and he didn’t like it, not one bit. “Not something I want to share with anyone.”
“Fuck’s sake, Jess.” He threw off the covers and got out of bed. “I’m not just anyone.” He reached for his underwear and sweats. He needed space. He needed to run.
“Coop.” He heard the desperation in her voice, felt her hand curl around his wrist to stop him. She looked up at him then with big, sad, tired eyes. “I . . . It’s just about my sister, okay?”
At the confession, relief began to move through him. “What about your sister?”
She tugged on his wrist and he lowered down onto the bed beside her. Jess immediately melted against him, pressing her cheek to his bare chest.
Just like that, all his anger drained from him when he felt how badly she was trembling. Cooper held her close, brushing a thumb over the silky skin of her upper arm. “What about your sister?” he repeated.
“I . . . I get these bad dreams around the anniversary of her death. But I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Come on, Jess, you’re a doctor. Surely you know talking about it might help with the nightmares.”
She shook her head against him, her hair tickling his chest. “I don’t want you to think I’m shutting you out. I don’t talk about this with anyone.” She pulled back to look at his face, her expression pleading. “Please . . . the nightmares will go away. Trust me.”
Disappointment flooded him. And he couldn’t hide it. The problem wasn’t him trusting her. If she couldn’t trust him, they had big problems. He let her go, brushing off her touch as she tried to pull him back. “I’m going for a run.”
“Cooper,” she pleaded.
It took everything within him not to look back at her.
Jessica
Overwhelming panic.
That was what I felt as I watched Cooper walk out of his bedroom.
I didn’t want to lose him over this, over my secrets, but I felt him slipping away every day I held things back from him.