The Risks We Take Duet Box Set

14. Cooper

COOPER

I thought Carys and I would have a chance to finish our conversation before the night was over. But I should have known better. Axel dominated her attention for the next few hours. And while at first it pissed me off, I started paying closer attention to her reactions to him. Once I realized she was tolerating him the way she does her brother, it was easy enough to laugh along and let go of my jealousy.

Even if I’m gonna put an end to that shit real soon.

Every time Axe called her “future baby momma,” I wanted to kill him.

Never felt that way over any girl before.

But Carys isn’t just any girl. She’s mine. Soft and strong, with a heart bigger than anyone I’ve ever known. And if I really want to give this a shot... If I’m right and she feels the same way, this won’t be like any other relationship has ever been. It can’t be.

Carys Murphy isn’t a girl you hook up with—she’s the girl you spend your life with.

She’s been yawning for the past hour, trying to hide her exhaustion. So, when Linc and Emerson head upstairs to Em’s room, the guys and I call it a night. But as the others walk away, I stop and look at the woman curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Hey.” Taking her hands, I pull her to her feet. “Go to bed. Don’t make me worry that you’re falling asleep out here, okay?”

She covers another yawn, then leans her forehead against my chest. Her hair falls forward, covering her face, and the sweet fruity scent of her grapefruit shampoo catches in the wind for a moment. But it’s long enough for me to realize I want more.

I need to know if her skin tastes sweet too.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” I ask.

“What?” She pulls back, and sleepy, soft green eyes blink up at me through long dark lashes. “I’m singing at the Rathskeller tomorrow with the band.”

That could work. “What time do you guys go on?”

“Eight o’clock. Why? Are you and the guys gonna come?” She yawns again, and I turn her toward the back door, a plan forming in my head.

“Go to bed, Carys. Lock the door behind you.”

Her head swings around, and those green eyes sparkle under the moonlight. I swear I can tell exactly what this woman is thinking from her eyes. They show everything. “You’re awfully bossy, Cooper Sinclair. How did I not know that?” She might be giving me hell, but she’s enjoying it, so I don’t care.

“Lock the damn door, Carys.” I shove my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out to her. I need to stay exactly where I am, because if I move now, I’ll be crossing a line I want her wide awake for. And I need to see if we’re both on the same page before that happens.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Bossy and moody. Night, Coop.”

“Goodnight.” I stand with both feet firmly planted until she’s closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her. She doesn’t look back as she moves up the stairs. And I wait until she’s completely out of sight before I leave.

When I walk in the front door of my house, Trick’s in the kitchen filling Wanda’s water bowl with Axel nowhere in sight. “Axe already gone?”

“Yeah. He went home. Sometimes I think Wanda’s better trained than he is.” He puts the bowl down in front of the dog and scratches behind her ears. “Isn’t that right, girl?”

Wanda cocks her head, and I swear, one of these days, that dog is gonna answer him. I shake my head at that thought. “Okay well, I’m going to bed.”

“Hey, man. Wait. Axe asked me to pass along a message.” He straightens and leans against the wall behind him. If he’s waiting for me to squirm, he’ll be waiting a long damn time. “He said to make your move or lose your chance. Think he was talking about Carys.” Trick smiles a crooked fucking smile, and I have to remind myself not to punch the messenger.

Fucking Axel thinks he’s got a chance with my girl.

Not happening.

I might have needed to work through a few things before I figured my shit out, but I’ll fucking kill him before I let him near her. And when I empty my pockets on my nightstand and see my phone lit up with a text, something in me settles.

Carys

Text me when you get home, bossy.

Coop

Now who’s worrying about who?

Carys

I’ve worried about you since you joined the Navy, Coop.

Coop

Don’t worry. I’ve got this. I’ll always come back.

Carys

Who are you coming back to?

Coop

You going to be waiting for me?

Carys

Maybe.

Coop

I’ll see you tomorrow night, Carys. Sweet dreams.

Carys

Good night, Cooper.

T he Rathskeller is packed when I walk through the door Friday night, but it’s easy to find the guys at the bar. Even Rook is here tonight. And he’s not big on... well, he’s not big on people in general. When I join Rook, Axel, Trick, and Linc, Axe eyes me like a bug he’d like to squash.

“No flowers for our girl?”

“She’s not your girl.” I slide in next to him and flag Brenda down for a beer. “And it’s not a dance recital. You don’t bring flowers.”

“What the hell do you know about dance recitals, Sinclair?” Rook eyes me skeptically.

“More than you. My twin has been dancing since she could walk. And my sister-in-law owns a ballet studio. I know more than any man should ever have to about dance recitals. Just trust me.”

Rook shivers. “Yeah... not something I had to worry about growing up.” He’s one of six brothers who, according to him, have been trained to be military men since they were little. Guess dance wasn’t exactly part of his life.

Emerson struts toward us, her eyes locked on Linc, and you’d think, based on how she practically runs to him, it had been more than a few hours since they were together. But before I have time to give that too much thought, the band takes the stage, and I zero in on their lead singer.

She looks... holy shit. I have no words.

Carys is wearing another miniskirt, like last week, but that’s where the similarities end. Instead of leather, today’s skirt is denim. She switched last week’s knee-high boots out for a pair of pink Doc Martens, and stretching tight across her chest is a cropped, pink Philadelphia King’s t-shirt with a sparkly gold logo in the middle. Her shiny hair hangs in curls down around her shoulders, and it shimmers under the lights as she takes the front of the stage.

The guy she doesn’t live with starts off with a familiar guitar solo, and Carys sways back and forth to the music before she takes the mic in her hands and opens her mouth. The first few words of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” float throughout the bar, and the crowd goes wild just before Jack and Theo join in. A roar flows through the crowd, and her responding smile warms somewhere deep in my soul.

She dances around the stage as she sings, moving from each guitarist to the drummer and back. Then, she’s holding the microphone out to the crowd for them to sing along with the chorus. “She’s fantastic,” I say to no one and everyone, completely in awe.

“So, you manning up and taking baby momma home with you, or am I?” I know Axel’s kidding, but I throw my elbow back into his gut anyway and enjoy when he doubles over, coughing.

“Ooh. Guess it ain’t you, Axe,” Trick laughs.

“Lay off the baby momma shit, and I’ll let you walk out of here tonight. Call her that again, and we’re gonna have a problem, brother.” I cut my eyes to him, and the fucker’s eyes are watering as he decides which he wants to do more—breathe or laugh.

Once he catches his breath, he stands tall and looks around at the guys. “Pay up, assholes. I was right. It took a week.” He opens his palm and shoves it in the guys’ grumbling faces as each one pulls a twenty out and slaps it down. “Told ya.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Emerson asks as Linc moves her from his lap to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

Axel drops the money down on the bar and wiggles his eyebrows at Brenda. “Brenda... love of my life. Drinks are on me for the team tonight.” He stretches over the bar like he’s going to kiss her until she smacks him with her towel.

“Drinks are on Axel, boys. What are ya having?” She lines up a row of shot glasses, knowing us all too well.

“Well, since you asshats are betting on me, I think this calls for some Don Julio.”

Once the tequila is poured, we raise our glasses.

“To claiming the girl,” Rook offers. “It’s about motherfucking time.”

“To claiming the girl,” the guys repeat.

“Woo! I’ll drink to that.” Emerson throws her shot back, then grimaces from the burn before her eyes grow wide as they catch on something across the bar. “Oh my God. Dad?” She jerks away from Linc and runs over to Stone Madden and his entourage, who just walked through the doors of the Rat. He’s wearing a hat pulled low over his eyes. Guess it’s his attempt to go unnoticed. Shame it’s not working. Everyone in the back half of the bar noticed him as soon as he walked through the door.

Rook stands from his stool and stares hard at Linc. “Her dad is Stone Madden? What part of low profile do you not understand?”

Linc watches his girl. “Relax, man. My profile is low. Em isn’t the famous one.” His argument doesn’t satisfy Rook, but the team’s number two doesn’t push it for now because Emerson walks over with her dad, followed by the lead singer of Black Stone, Eddie Black.

Ho-ly. Shit. They’re rock royalty.

Stone’s girl from the other day is attached to his arm, and Emerson has hers linked through Eddie’s as she makes the introductions.

But before she can finish, Eddie whistles. “Wow, look at Jacky boy up there. He remind you of us at that age, Stone?” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and watches the stage with an eagle eye. “Who’s the singer?”

“That’s my roommate, Carys. Jack’s trying to convince her to join the band.” Emerson beams with pride for Carys. “And he hates when you call him Jacky.”

Her dad orders a round of beers and hands one to her, not caring that she’s not twenty-one. “What do you mean trying to convince? She’s a fucking natural up there. Great voice. Great look.”

“Great legs too,” Eddie laughs, and rock royalty or not, I want to punch him in his pretty-boy face.

“She sings for fun. She doesn’t want to be in a band. Carys is helping the guys out while they try to replace the last guy.” Emerson runs her fingers over the lacey black shirt she’s wearing. “She wants to design clothing. She made me this last weekend.”

Stone’s girlfriend rubs the ribbons between her fingers. “She made this?” She looks questioningly at Emerson. “This is fantastic. Where does she sell her designs?”

Before Emerson can answer, Eddie does. “Fuck designs. That girl was born to be a star. You can’t teach what she’s got.”

Emerson pats his chest condescendingly. “I’m telling you, this isn’t what she wants. She’s just filling in.”

“We’ll see about that.” He stares at Carys like he’s judging one of those contests on TV and he’s got her golden ticket in his pocket.

I want to tell this guy to back off, but I’m not going to be the guy who causes a scene while Carys is on stage. Instead, I remove myself from the crowd and move down the bar to stand next to Rook.

“Ignore him, Sinclair. Dude’s an overprivileged asshole. Trust me, I know the type.”

“Yeah . . .”

We’re quiet for a minute while we watch the band.

Carys transitions to a P!NK song. Her voice builds, and she closes her eyes as she reaches for the high notes, sending goosebumps over my skin.

“That’s my baby momma,” I hear yelled into the crowd, and if it weren’t for the smile gracing her beautiful face when she hears it, swear to God, I’d fucking kill Axe.