Games We Play (32 page)

“I have.”

“I hear Cooper is the holdup.”

“There are several holdups. The committee hasn’t discussed it yet.”

“Don’t seem right that Cooper should get in the way. Not given his past,” Hugo said.

“You’re good friends with Cooper, right? I see you in here drinking his beer, you and your funny friends,” Stanley said, and chuckled, as if he’d told some big joke. Hugo laughed too.

The Colonel remained silent.

“I bet you wouldn’t be so quick to be Cooper’s friend if you knew some of what he’s done. He ain’t the angel you think he his.”

“I don’t think he’s an angel, but he is my friend.”

“But would he be if you knew the kinds of things he’s done?” Hugo asked, and he and Stanley spent another twenty minutes giving him an earful of history, the town’s and Cooper Three’s. They toned it down a bit, like Hank had asked them to do, plus it was better not to sound too gleeful about the old stories, not in mixed company, anyway. When they were alone, or with others like them, they’d have a hell of a time talking about the good old days.

Friday night

“H
ave you read all of those books on your shelf?” Kendall asked, pointing to the shelves in Cooper’s home. The area near the living room was filled with books, from floor to ceiling. It was closing in on 12:00 a.m. She’d spent an hour or two at the pub before closing, sitting at the bar, meeting more of the townsfolk before ending up at here. They were catching their breath after having completed their first round of lovemaking.

It was now time for talk, her attempt to know more about the man who loved her aunt so much. She lay on her stomach, he on his side, watching her as she looked around his home.

“The books are for show, really. I’m always on the lookout for a professor to seduce and bring home. They are almost always impressed by books,” he said, running his hand over her back.

“Cooper,” she said, laughing at his teasing.

“I like to read, and if you’re not in a hurry for me to finish, I will. School had those pesky deadlines and tests, which I detested. After school, I realized I could read on my own schedule and about things that interested me. So I do.”

“Beer, beer, and more beer. You have quite the collection of beer books and magazines. Did you ever want to do something different?”

“No,” he said, smiling at her, his arm holding up his head, his other hand continuing to roam and caress her body, absentminded in its movement.

“Do you think I need a guy who likes to read? Do you think it’s necessary for me, the professor, to be happy?” she asked.

“Don’t know, only you can answer that,” he said, running his hand along her back, then down to her ass. “Does it bother you that I didn’t go to college?” he asked, his hand still continuing its ministrations.

“No,” she said, looking at his face again. It was filled with skepticism.

“Really?” he said.

“It doesn’t. Really. No, not at all,” she said.

“Why doesn’t it bother you?”

“It used to matter, if I’m being honest. It was one of my many requirements. The man I needed had to be an intellectual, a fellow professor, or, in the case of Houston, a professional businessman.

“One day a friend of mine, single like me, a fellow professor like me, said something similar to me. She said that if a man didn’t read or wasn’t interested in reading, it was a relationship nonstarter for her. She said the man she married didn’t have to be interested in the same things as her, but he had to be interested in something, interested enough to want to read about it. He had to be what she called intellectually curious.

“At the time, I thought she sounded like a snob, like if you don’t do what I do, then you must not be worthy of my time, and that sounded a bit shallow, right? The idea that the only people of value were the ones who were like us.

“Meeting and getting to know my dad changed me in so many ways. Now I think what’s most important is having or sharing the same values as your partner. Values like commitment, honesty, believing that hard work pays off, that we are responsible for one another and our families, that we should support and nurture our children and take care of those we love. Those sorts of thing are important to me. So I’ll need someone that thinks along those lines. You know?” she asked.

He nodded his head in agreement.

“I’d be happy to marry a man like my dad. He works hard, and he wanted the best for his daughters, his family. He would have loved my mother forever if she had stuck around. He never remarried. The wedding vows meant something to him, for better or for worse. Not all who are successful attend college, and not all who do are successful.”

“What about you? You grew up wanting to be a professor?” Cooper asked, pensive now.

“You mean after I let go of the idea of being a princess with my own kingdom to rule? Not at first, no. I wanted to get into politics, maybe run for office, you know, that whole change-the-world thing.”

“What happened to that goal?”

“The world is harder to change than I originally thought. It’s slower, at any rate. Nothing really changes overnight, like I’d hoped. It’s all unrelenting effort over the course of many years. That can be very discouraging for an idealist.”

“Or discouraging for someone who thinks and wants things to change overnight. Most things require time. But why be a professor?” he asked.

“Even with all I know, I can’t give up the dream of trying to make the world a better place, however difficult. Teaching allows me to believe that I’m at least shaping the students I teach, influencing them before they become lost in the push to acquire at all cost.”

“Fighting back against your mother,” he said.

“Yes, although it took me a while to understand that she was the source of why I wanted to be different. There is no emotional in between with my mother. You either like her or you don’t. You’ve met her, what did you think?” she asked.

“I try to limit my judgments. I don’t really know her,” he said, smiling.

“A very PC, safe answer,” she said, and smiled. “Yes, to answer your question, I guess pushing back against Vivian is a part of who I am…the result of growing up under her tutelage. So yes, to answer your question. It was hard not to push back against her.”

“Not everybody wants to acquire at all cost,” he said.

“I heard that you wanted to give away your family’s fortune,” she said, smiling at him.

“Who told you that?” he asked, surprised.

“Nobody. I read it somewhere, I think. Honestly, I’m not sure,” she said, at the look on his face. “Don’t bother denying it. I wouldn’t believe you anyway. There’s more to you than you like to let on,” she said, running her hand over his chest. “But, back to me and wanting to be a professor,” she said, pointing to herself, deciding to change the conversation. He’d weirded out there for a few seconds.

“My students give me hope, and they help me remember the ideals and dreams I had coming out of college. I’ve learned that changing the world doesn’t have to be this huge undertaking. It doesn’t have to be all Gandhi or MLK big. You can do small, make a difference with what you do and who you are.”

He was silent still.

“It’s what you do with Aunt Myra,” she said, still not giving up on getting him to admit the part he played with helping her aunt and the town. He wasn’t taking her bait tonight either. “Yeah, yeah, you’re not helping, blah, blah, blah.”

“Why is that so important to you?” he said.

She shrugged. “It’s not, and it is.”

“Whatever that means,” he said, and leaned over and placed his lips to hers. He liked touching her, whether it was her lips or her ass or wherever. He just liked the feel of her. “So what happened to Houston?” he asked after a bit, changing the subject.

“We are two very different people, even though we were raised by two similar people. His father is a lot like Vivian. They even dated—or whatever it was they did—for a while. We want two different lives.”

“Like?”

“He was all for spending, acquiring, and living large for the sake of it. He made six figures and he loved to point that out to anyone who would listen, as if that was all that was required of him. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking that. It just wasn’t for me, and it reminded me too much of living with my mother. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life tied to the male version of her,” she said.

“He was that bad?”

“No, he wasn’t, but I knew that being with him would mean I’d have to live that life.…Anyway, enough of this serious stuff,” she said, and ran her lips over his chest. She glanced up at him before she kissed his body further down this time, in the vicinity of his navel.

She glanced at him again and smiled, laughing at the smile he gave back, sexy and turned on, and she slid lower, kissing the area at the top of his right thigh. He inhaled this time, sharp and sweet-sounding to her ears, and his hands found her hair. She looked up one final time at the handsome picture he made, naked and male, and listened as he made another deep inhale. She loved the sound of him, here in the heat of things; nothing sucked her in more than to hear how pleased he was by the things she did to and with him. He’d closed his eyes, so she kissed him again, on a spot that caused him to groan in pleasure this time. She smiled and closed her eyes, content to enjoy this moment with him.

Saturday morning

“You’re here early, Colonel,” Cooper said from his spot behind the bar. He was stacking glasses under the bar, prepping for the day.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” the Colonel said, walking over to stand in front of Cooper.

“Sure, sounds serious, though.”

“It is.”

“Shoot. It’s early, and no one’s here but me and Alex,” he said, smiling, hoping to lighten the Colonel’s mood. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his friend this serious, this stressed. Maybe it had been when they were waiting for the election results to come in.

“I’d rather we talk in your office,” the Colonel said.

“You’ll have to give me a minute then,” he said.

“Sure, no problem,” the Colonel said. He walked away, over to the brew room. He stood just outside of it, waiting for Cooper to put away the last of his bar glasses.

“Ready,” Cooper said close to ten minutes later, leading the way to his office. He took a seat behind his desk, waiting for the Colonel to sit in front of him.

“Okay, what’s up?” Cooper said, smiling.

“There are some things being said about you.”

“Okay,” he said.

“The Proctor brothers are spreading some malicious things around town about you, things that you might have done while growing up here. They’re targeting the residents who are new to town, the ones you and Myra have helped in some way.”

“You mean the ones Myra has helped,” Cooper said, correcting the colonel.

“Last night they told me…” the Colonel began.

“I don’t need to hear the specifics,” Cooper said, interrupting him.

“I thought you would want to know.”

“No, I don’t. I was there growing up with them. So no.”

“I see.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Cooper said.

“You’re different now?” the Colonel asked, or said; Cooper wasn’t sure which.

“Was that a question or a statement?” Cooper said, offering his first sincere smile since this discussion had started.

“A statement. I know who you are.”

“You sure about that?” Cooper asked.

“I’m sure,” he said, staring back at Cooper. “This was what I was worried about from the start. Not everyone plays nice and fair, Cooper. We have to fight back.”

“No, we don’t.”

“You don’t mean that, do you?”

“I do.”

“So you think we should leave them alone, allow them to continuing spreading their malicious stories? You could talk to the Proctor men. They’d listen to you. They’re here often enough, and I think they respect you for what you’ve built here. It’s obvious that Hank’s egging them on.”

“I’m not going to ask.”

“I see.”

“It’ll work itself out,” Cooper said, and smiled. “If that’s all, then I’d better get back to the front. It gets busy here, but I don’t have to tell you that.” Cooper smiled as he followed the Colonel out of his office and back to the front.

“If you’re sure,” the Colonel said, standing by the front door, preparing to leave.

“I am. Really, don’t worry about it,” Cooper said.

First week of July, Tuesday evening

Kendall sat at the bar, watching Cooper clean up. This was the newest addition to her daily routine. She’d spend all day with Myra, have a nightcap with her, then head over to Cooper’s for a different type of nightcap. It had begun last week, Thursday. He’d asked her to stop by. Friday the same, and then it had changed to see you later, and both of them had known what that meant—here at the bar at the end of the day and his home later.

They seemed so in sync with each other, both of them game with everyday sex, except for that one time, when she’d had too much beer and fallen asleep. Early the next morning, she’d awakened to his nude body at her back, curled into hers, arm thrown across her waist. She hadn’t wanted to move; she’d wanted to remain there forever if she could. She’d closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of his home, thinking she could get used to this. And, yeah, she knew what that meant.

After a while, his breathing had changed, and he’d moved his hand to her hip, placing his mouth to her neck, and seconds later, she’d felt the hardness of him entering her, and God it had been perfect, beautiful even—soft, slow, early-morning lovemaking.

He’d cooked breakfast afterwards, and then it had been home to Myra’s to shower and whatever Myra had planned for the morning. Who would have thought that there was so much to do, so many people to help?

“What are you going to do with him?” Kendall said, pointing over her shoulder at a man who had clearly had too much to drink and was sleeping it off. “Surely you’re not going to let him drive himself home.”

“No, I’ll call Jeremiah.”

“Who’s Jeremiah?”

“He runs one of the local taxi services. He’s on standby for some of our regulars. A lot of them have standing orders to be picked up and delivered home.”