herself up and dusted herself off, made a good life for herself. The one thing she hadn’t done was let go of her resentment for Cooper. Funny how she’d been able to put Scott in the past and not miss him a bit, but not Cooper. She supposed it came from staying in the same town and being faced with seeing him on a regular basis, even from a distance.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Coop.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Forgiving isn’t the same as forgetting. You’re right. It’s over and done. But you know the old saying, ‘Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice…’”
“‘Shame on me’,” he finished.
“Our friendship as it used to be is over, Cooper. We can’t go back. It’s how I’m built. Once someone hurts me, they don’t get a chance to do it again. Once I learn a lesson, I don’t forget it. So maybe we can just call a truce, okay? I can live with that. If you’re expecting more…”
She didn’t finish the sentence, but she didn’t really need to, did she?
Cooper took a step back, out of the circle of lamplight. “You should go in. It’s getting late.”
She didn’t like how they were leaving this, but knew there was no other way. “Thank you for the walk home.”
She’d turned and taken two steps along her walkway when his voice stopped her once again. “Mel?”
Her heart quaked. Why did this feel like goodbye? Why did it feel final? Final had been three years ago when she’d said she never wanted to speak to him again.
The words had been extreme, but that had been an extreme period in her life.
“I lost two best friends, you know. You might think I sided with Scott, but I didn’t. I hated what he was up to and begged him to do the right thing. It was the end of our friendship. I did not condone or support his behavior in any way. You need to know that.”
Sadness swept over her. “You didn’t stop it,” she whispered. “To me, you condoned it by doing nothing.”
Silence spun between them, until finally Cooper gave a curt nod and turned, walking away. She watched until the sound of his boots faded and his tall form turned the corner, out of her line of vision.
Only then did she realize that she was still wearing his jacket. She curled her fingers around the edges and pulled it close, drawing in the scents of hay and fresh air and the cologne he’d worn for as long as she could remember. The smell of it was imprinted on her brain, bringing a wealth of memories and emotions. It took her back more years than she cared to count.
She’d worked so hard to put the past behind her, but as the scent of him wrapped around her, she grieved just a little bit for the life she’d nearly had and the dreams she’d lost.
CHAPTER THREE
COOPER SAT IN HIS TRUCK a half block from her flower shop, trying to muster the courage to go in. The other night he had come this close to telling her the truth. It had all been going so well. Not quite like old times, but at least they’d been talking. He’d gotten the impression that she’d be open to his apology, so he’d made it.
Only it hadn’t gone quite according to plan. She’d pushed. He’d thought for a long time that she hadn’t spoken to him for years because of simple pride. The longer the impasse, the harder it was to swallow pride and end it, right? It was difficult to take the first step. But he’d miscalculated. It wasn’t just pride with Melissa. He had truly, honestly hurt her.
He’d never intended for things to get so intense the other night. With any other woman he could try flowers to ease his way back into her good graces. Considering Melissa owned the flower shop, he’d had to come up with something else. Besides, she’d see right through that sort of thing.
So a plastic container of his mother’s peanut butter chocolate chip cookies sat on the seat beside him as a peace offering. She’d always had a weak spot for those.
He was still trying to figure out what he hoped to achieve by mending fences. Was it simply a need to put the transgressions of his past behind him? To receive absolution from his guilt for the part he’d played in the breakup of her marriage?
Then there was the problem of his feelings for Melissa. They’d been good friends since junior high school. By the time he’d figured out he wanted more, she’d only had eyes for Scott. What was worse, Scott had known how Coop felt, but had never said anything to him. It had been an unspoken rule—that they didn’t talk about it. To Scott’s credit, he had never rubbed Coop’s nose in it. Not until Coop backed him into a corner. Then Scott had shown what sort of man he truly was. And what sort of man Cooper was, too. The kind of guy who would choose to save his own skin rather than do the right thing.
So what did he really want? Coop drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He considered the idea that maybe he should let her go. Until he did, he couldn’t move on. And he really should at some point.
He was twenty-seven years old and he’d never had a serious relationship. All because of Melissa Stone. It went beyond his mom and dad asking when he was going to settle down and give them grandbabies. He wanted that, too. He loved his business, but he wanted a wife and a few kids running around his big empty house. He wanted to teach them to ride and coach their hockey team. More than that, he wanted a partner to share things with. A meal at the end of the day. A beer while watching the football game. A woman he loved waking up beside him in the morning.
It was just that it seemed impossible to make the connection from his life as it was right now to his vision of the future. Melissa—and their unfinished business—was in his way.
So he’d go in there and give her the cookies and get his jacket back and wish her well, and finally, finally, move on.
Resolutely, he shut the door to his truck and gripped the dish in sweaty hands. This was stupid, wasn’t it? A grown man going home and asking his mother to bake special cookies, of all things. She’d even remembered Melissa’s fondness for them. His pulse beat at his wrist and the muscles in his chest tightened with nervousness as he reached for the door. Dammit, he felt about fifteen years old and not anything like a man preparing to let someone go.
Amy Wilson stood behind the counter, a cordless phone pressed to her ear when he walked in. She looked up and smiled, and his pulse jumped again—not because he was particularly fond of Amy but because she was a notorious flirt and gossip. The last thing he needed was her overhearing anything he’d come to say.
“Cooper?”
He turned to his right and there stood Mel, dressed in a soft sweater the color of red wine and a pair of gray trousers. The sweater draped over her body like some sort of shawl, and it was utterly feminine and flattering. She held a finished bouquet in her hands, an arrangement of red roses, white carnations and baby’s breath. Her brown hair was caught up in some sort of clip that left little pieces sticking out. It was one of those casual, purposefully messy looks, and it suited her perfectly.
“Hi,” he said, so struck by the sight of her that he lost the few words he’d put together in his mind. Instinctively, he reached for his hat, then remembered he’d left it in the truck.
“Something I can do for you?”
“Um…”
