Читать книгу Nine-Month Protector - Julie Miller - Страница 6

Three months later

“What do you mean, we’ve got nothing on Theodore Wolfe? I thought Wolfe International was history.” Seth Cartwright’s question fueled an outburst of debates around the KCPD headquarters briefing room.

“Their money-laundering setup here in K.C., yes. And we’ve put a serious dent in their drug profits by shutting down their Kansas City base. But we’ve still got some loose ends to tie up,” replied Captain John Kincaid in his typically cool, calm and collected tone. The grumbles subsided. He gripped the desktop podium and leaned forward to make sure every detective and uniformed officer in the room understood how serious he was. “Understand this. I intend to nail the big boss and give KCPD the credit for his arrest before they kick me upstairs to the deputy commissioner’s office.”

Leaning back in his chair at the front table, Cooper Bellamy crossed his long legs at the ankle and sipped his coffee as another round of should-haves and what-ifs and let’s-do-its ensued. His own partner, Seth, turned to the long table behind them and questioned Kincaid’s second-eldest son, Sawyer, another young detective, to see if he had any insight into his father’s plans for the case.

Coop seemed to take it all in with half an ear. His disinterest was deceptive, though. He was as frustrated as his partner to hear how progress had stalled on their investigation into Wolfe International’s illegal activities.

Captain Kincaid, the man who’d recruited Coop and Seth from the Fourth precinct to work on his organized-crime task force, raised his hands and quieted the room with little more than a stern fatherly look. Coop sat up straight, remembering that same look from his own father. A gung-ho Marine until the day his job took his life, Clint Bellamy had high expectations from all five of his children, especially his oldest son, Coop. And though he’d managed to inject plenty of laughter into their lives when he’d been home, Clint’s rules for living had been drilled in hard and often.

Respect for authority went without saying. And Captain Kincaid had earned it.

Being there for the team—whether that meant backing up his partner or taking care of his mother and younger brothers and sisters—was another tenet in the Bellamy code.

But the rule that had him sitting up and waiting for the captain to explain their next plan of action was that no matter what it required of a man, failure on a mission was not an option.

Coop thumped his partner’s shoulder, urging him to ease up on the second-guessing. “Let’s hear what the big dog has to say.”

The room quieted, and the captain recapped the task force’s accomplishments and remaining goals.

Theodore Wolfe’s son, Teddy, Jr., had been killed in a shootout with Seth when Teddy had tried to murder the woman who had since become Seth’s fiancée. Although one of Teddy’s partners appeared to be a legitimate K.C. businessman, their casino had been temporarily closed until the Treasury Department could straighten out the books. And Teddy’s right-hand man and Wolfe International enforcer, Shaw McDonough—the man Sarah Cartwright had identified as a cold-blooded killer—had gone AWOL.

McDonough had skipped the country. His plane ticket out of KCI said Bermuda, but authorities had had no luck tracking him down there. They couldn’t even confirm that he’d actually gotten off the plane. The bastard could be anywhere on the planet. Spending his money in the Caribbean. Living under an assumed name back in London, still doing his boss’s dirty work. Murdering someone else if the price was right.

Coop set down his coffee as the taste went bitter. That fateful night when Sarah had witnessed the murder of Teddy’s mistress had changed his life, too. And not for the better. He’d screwed up when he’d gone to check on her. He hadn’t been thinking with his brain. He’d misread signals and moved way too fast. At the very least, his timing had sucked. He’d risked his heart and gotten it thrown back in his face for his troubles—and jeopardized his friendship with Seth should the whole truth of those twenty-four hours together with Sarah ever come out.

“So what are we supposed to do, Captain? Sit back on our heels and let Wolfe International peddle its influence somewhere else?” Seth’s question was a welcome interruption to Coop’s self-damning thoughts.

His gaze strayed to the photograph posted on the screen at the front of the room. Theodore Wolfe, Sr. Black hair, silver temples. He could have been a member of Parliament with that high-class suit and demeanor. But there was a much darker side to the multimillionaire mob boss who ruled a gambling empire that touched four continents.

Wolfe was controller of everything he touched. Rich as Midas and as feared as Hades himself. Not a nice guy.

KCPD may have put a stop to his son’s criminal career, but Daddy and his number-one henchman remained untouched.

“No, Cartwright.” There was no doubt that the captain had command of the room. “I intend to nail Wolfe on our turf. We’ve got unfinished business with him here. He’s responsible for ordering the death of crime reporter Reuben Page—” the father of Seth’s fiancée, Rebecca “—and Danielle Ballard, the intern who was feeding Page information on the bribes Wolfe offered key economic development and zoning committee members.”

“So that disk Rebecca and I found at the Riverboat casino proves Wolfe’s influence?” Seth asked.

Captain Kincaid nodded. “Absolutely. Plus, Mac Taylor from the forensic lab says he’s got a clean bullet from Dawn Kingsley’s body that matches the one he took from Reuben Page three years earlier. If we can get him McDonough’s gun, we can link him to both murders and send McDonough to death row.”

Along with Sarah’s eyewitness testimony.

“Captain?” Coop had to pipe up with a smart remark sooner or later, or Seth would suspect that something heavy was weighing on his thoughts, and start asking him questions he didn’t want to answer. “You really think Wolfe and McDonough are stupid enough to return to the scene of the crime?”

“Not stupidity. Arrogance. And family honor.” Coop had to admire the captain’s thorough profiling of their targets. “If one or both of those men don’t show up to avenge Teddy’s death at the hands of KCPD, I’ll be surprised. Even if they think Teddy was an embarrassment to the family and Cartwright did them a favor, they’ll be back. Sooner or later. Since Wolfe assumed power of his company, he hasn’t had a failure.”

Cooper grinned. “Until he ran into us badasses here in K.C.”

“Something like that.” Captain Kincaid chuckled, making it okay for the snickers in the room to erupt into matching, stress-relieving laughter. “On that note, let’s start wrapping this thing up. We’ve got eyes on Wolfe in London, and McDonough’s picture is on every airport, shipyard and border crossing watch list. If he tries to re-enter the country, we’ll nab him. We’ll…”

While the captain began outlining the task force’s strategy through the end of the year, Seth leaned over and whispered, “Nice one, buddy. So you think Wolfe is going to come to the States to stick it to us?”

Coop shrugged. “A good businessman is going to want to show some kind of victory for his investment here in the U.S. Between us and the Treasury Department, we’ve locked up Wolfe’s money. He doesn’t want to walk away from here empty-handed. Kincaid’s right. One way or another, he’ll be back.”

Seth sat back with a grin. “You’re smarter than you look.”

Coop didn’t miss a beat. “You’re taller than you look.”

“Wiseass.”

“Pee-wee.”

To his credit, Coop’s shoulder-high tank of a partner had mellowed in his emotional moods since finding a woman who could go head to head with him in any battle of words and wills. They could give each other grief, and Seth would walk away smiling with a genuine sense of peace he hadn’t known for a long time.

Coop hid his pensive smile behind another swallow of his tepid morning coffee, swallowing the guilt that nagged at his conscience right along with it. His friendship with Seth Cartwright went deep, and he wouldn’t begrudge the tough guy his well-earned contentment.

Funny how finding a soul mate could reform even the hardest of hearts. Seth and Rebecca Page deserved their happily-ever-after. And come Christmas time, he’d proudly stand up as best man when the two of them got married.

Coop’s mind wandered from the captain’s spiel about timetables and task force goals.

Serving as best man might be as close as he’d ever get to a wedding himself. Not unless he could find a way to purge Sarah Cartwright from his thoughts the same way she seemed to have erased him from her life so quickly and thoroughly.

It had started as a simple kiss that morning in July. Coop had stood by Sarah while a uniformed officer had taken her statement and gotten contact information. He’d held her hand while the officer had promised to post an APB for both a man named McDonough and the blond girl’s body. Sarah had witnessed a murder at the Riverboat Casino. She’d tried to tell Coop something about her father setting her up, something about Teddy Wolfe using her.

And then she’d started crying again before everything made sense. When she’d walked into his arms a second time, Cooper had welcomed her, held her tight. When she’d asked for a kiss, he hadn’t been able to resist.

That kiss had seemed to go on and on. Instead of stopping, it had altered, deepened—demanded—and comfort had given way to passion.

It had been quick that first time. Crazy.

She needed him, she’d said. Needed that affirmation of life, of normalcy. She’d needed that soul-deep connection to another human being that making love could provide. And Coop had wanted to help her so badly—had wanted her so badly—that he hadn’t been able to summon the common sense to refuse her anything she asked.

“I’m sorry.” She’d started apologizing before they’d even had all their clothes back on. “I took advantage of your kindness, your caring. I’m no better than—”

“Hey, that wasn’t completely unexpected between the two of us, was it? Things have been simmering for months. Trust me, kindness had nothing to do with howmuch I wanted you.” He’d tried to draw her back into her bed, had tried to gentle her nervous discomfort with another kiss.

“No. This was a mistake. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

She’d been out of his arms, out of the room before he could get a straight answer about where he’d gone wrong. Then he was out of her apartment, and out of her life before he could really get his head around the idea that Sarah Cartwright had only wanted a warm body to get close to that morning.

She hadn’t been looking for a relationship.

And she sure as hell hadn’t been looking for him.

“Watch it, buddy.” Seth nudged Coop’s arm, wrenching him back to the present. He nodded toward Coop’s hand on the table.

Lukewarm coffee dribbled over the back of Coop’s knuckles, leaking from the paper cup he’d crushed in his fist. Damn. Way to not let this get to you, Bellamy. But he managed to cover his thoughts with half a grin. “Oops.”

“We’ll get these bastards. Don’t worry.” Seth had misread Coop’s frustration, but his reassurance offered an easy excuse.

“I know. We’ll get ’em.”

While Coop mopped at the mess with a paper napkin, John Kincaid finished his briefing. “I’ll contact you individually with your assignments as they come up. In the meantime, return to your normal duties at your home precinct.” Coop tossed the cup and napkin into a nearby trash can as the captain dismissed them. “And remember to keep a twenty-four-hour line of contact open. We want to be able to mobilize our team the instant something new breaks on this case.”

“Yes, sir,” Coop answered, joining the chorus of responses from the task force members as they stood and filed from the room. Wadding up a handful of paper towels from the sink near the exit, he traded gibes and snippets of friendly conversation with his fellow cops as they walked past. Soon it was just him wiping down the table where he’d spilled his coffee, and Seth, waiting at the door for him so they could ride back to the Fourth Precinct building together.

A soft knock at the door echoed in the room’s sudden quiet.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Coop recognized what Seth’s familiar greeting meant. He braced for the figurative punch in the gut, even before he turned around to see his partner swallow up his twin sister in a hug.

“Hey, Seth.” Sarah planted a kiss on her brother’s cheek as she pulled away.

Coop stood back and watched, remembering, comparing that chaste kiss to the brazen thrust of her tongue in his mouth. Damn. Muscles clenched in hidden places, and he was suffused with a sudden heat that made him itchy beneath his skin.

He turned away while the brother and sister, who obviously shared such a deep connection, caught up on the past couple of weeks since they’d last seen each other. He couldn’t deny them the joy this impromptu reunion gave them, not when Coop shared the same kind of bond with his own family. But he didn’t have to stand there and watch and want, and wonder how he could be jealous of Seth—Sarah’s brother. Coop’s partner. His best friend.

Feeling like an unwanted fly at a picnic, Cooper concentrated very hard on carrying the coffee-soaked towels to the trash and dumping them. If there was a back door to this tenth-floor meeting room, he’d already be gone.

“Hey, Coop.”

Was that a hesitation he heard in Sarah’s voice? Or was that just his own reluctance to act like nothing had changed between them when everything felt different—twisted—inside him. Of course, he’d made the effort to call her, to stop by her apartment. But her absences and lack of response had made it embarrassingly clear that he was the only one interested in making something happen between them. Or, at the very least, he was the only one interested in making sense of what had felt like a real relationship to him for about twelve hours or so.

So hell, yeah. If she could pretend nothing had happened that morning, then so could he. Coop strolled over to the doorway to join them, grabbing his KCPD ball cap and pasting on a grin along the way. “Hey, Sarah. So what brings you to Cop Land?”

“I was hoping I could take you to lunch.”

She was still a pint-sized ball of pretty. Neither time nor distance nor three months of a cold shoulder that could have raised goose bumps diminished that fact. Today she wore a denim jumper over a deep-green turtleneck that brought out the color of her eyes. Her wheat-and-honey-colored ponytail was the only evidence of the tomboy she’d once been, because there was nothing boyish about the slightly crooked, all sexy mouth beneath the peachy tint of her lipstick.

“I’ll leave you to it. If you need a ride back to the precinct, Seth, just give me a call.” Coop circled around him and tried to slide out the door without touching Sarah. “See ya.”

“I meant you, Coop.” He paused at the tug on his sleeve. But when he turned to look down at the hand on his arm, Sarah quickly folded her fingers into her palm and tucked her fist back under the jacket she’d draped over her forearms. “My treat.”

The upturned eyes pleaded but didn’t explain the out-of-the-blue request. What the hell?

“Hey, what about me?” Seth protested. “Don’t I rate an invitation?”

Sarah turned back to her brother, leaving Coop to quiz the possibilities on his own. “I happen to know that Rebecca is picking you up downstairs at noon. She said she has plans for you today.” She cocked her head to one side. “Something about china patterns and silverware?”

Seth groaned and reached over her to clasp Coop by the shoulder. “Save me.”

“Hey, don’t look at me. You’re the one who proposed.” It was easier to joke than to let anything get too serious with Sarah standing between them. “I see you as sort of a ‘pewter goblet’ kind of guy myself.”

“I am wearing a gun, remember?”

“Cut it out, you two,” Sarah chided them both. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, Rebecca did say something about being able to get the job done in twenty minutes and then having the rest of her lunch break to do whatever it is you two do when you have…free time together?” The wink-wink teasing in her voice was obvious.

And Seth was eating it up. “Hmm. I think pickin’ out dishes just got a little more interesting.”

“You wish, Cartwright.” Coop had rarely seen a smile on his partner’s face during the eight long months he’d worked undercover at the casino and gotten cozy with the mob. He wasn’t about to douse Seth’s well-deserved happiness by bringing up anything like the fact he’d slept with his sister and then hadn’t spoken to her for twelve weeks. Even if the latter hadn’t been his choice.

Seth was already anxious to leave. “So what are you two going to do? If you’re ganging up as best man and maid of honor to pull some kind of prank at the reception or the bachelor party, you can just forget it.” He pointed a stern finger at Sarah. “I know you’re a good girl, but you…?”

Coop threw his hands up in mock surrender at the accusatory finger now pointed his way. “I’m a good girl, too.”

“Yeah, right.” Seth’s laugh demanded that Coop and Sarah join in, too. “You guys have fun.” He kissed his sister’s cheek, then poked that finger against Coop’s chest. “Not too much fun, though. You mind your manners.”

Sarah nudged her brother down the hallway. “I’ll make sure he does. Now go. Don’t keep Rebecca waiting.”

Seth spared them a glance over his shoulder. “I guess I won’t be needing to bum that ride back to the Fourth. I’ll have Bec drop me off after we…lunch.”

“Braggart.”

With a laugh, Seth strutted off toward the elevators. The hallway outside the briefing room was awkwardly quiet, now that Coop was alone with Sarah.

“Wow.” Sarah hugged her jacket to her waist and watched her brother all the way until his parting salute from behind the closing elevator doors. “I haven’t seen Seth this happy in months. He’s like the young guy he used to be before…” Her voice trailed away as though she was surprised to discover just how distasteful the end of that sentence was going to be. She leveled her shoulders and turned back to Coop. “Who’d have thought his arch-nemesis Rebecca Page would turn out to be so good for him?”

“Yeah. Who’d’ve thunk?” Coop agreed. Sarah’s gaze danced to the left. He studied the corduroy collar on her jacket. Yeah, this was awkward. “Don’t you have school today?” he asked, needing to hear something besides strained silence.

Green eyes met his. “I took the morning off. I had a doctor’s appointment.”

A flare of genuine concern made him lean in half a step. He understood bad news from the doctor better than most. “Are you sick? Hurt?”

She inhaled and slowly released a deep breath that did nothing to ease his worry. “Is there someplace private we can talk?” she asked.

“This is KCPD headquarters. Someone’s always watchin’ around here.”

His lame attempt at humor earned nothing more than a blink. “I’m serious, Coop.”

Yeah, that was reassuring.

So, had she finally gotten around to analyzing what had happened between them? Maybe this was the clean break he’d been hoping for, yet dreading at the same time. And if there was truly some bad news…

Cooper looked beyond her to the noise and bustle of administrative support staff working at their desks in the floor’s main room. With pairs and groups of blue suits and detectives still standing around and discussing the task force meeting and other business, he and Sarah weren’t going to find any privacy out there. He looked back toward the row of reinforced glass windows that formed the near wall of the briefing room. Even if they went inside and closed the door, anyone could look through the windows and see them together. And too much time spent alone with Sarah—in deep conversation or a possible argument—would surely get back to Seth. And Coop didn’t want to answer to that one.

The sun was shining outside. The air was crisp but not cold. Coop angled his head toward the exit. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Turning, Sarah led the way to the elevator. Coop pulled his hat over his bare head and, hanging back far enough so that he couldn’t reach out and touch her, followed behind.

SARAH WAS AFRAID THE QUEASY sensation in her stomach had nothing to do with the elevator ride or the secret she carried inside her.

Instead, she worried it had a lot to do with the tall, lanky detective leaning against the railing on the far side of the elevator. There was a guarded awareness to his deceptively relaxed stance. A curious introspection to the hooded blue eyes that watched the buttons light up with each floor they passed. Cooper Bellamy’s unnatural silence on the ride down to the main floor was all the proof she needed that she had done him a terrible wrong.

She’d traded a friend for a lover that morning when she’d been so afraid, so confused, so desperate to cling to his sheltering strength. And now she had neither. She’d felt more wanted, more necessary to someone in that first long kiss she’d shared with Cooper Bellamy than she’d felt in the weeks or months she’d spent dating anyone else. But the discovery couldn’t have come at a worse time.

She’d been fooled once by Teddy Wolfe. Fooled more times than she could count by her own father. How could she believe anything a man told her? How could she believe in anything she felt?

Humiliation was a hard thing to admit to, and losing that last shred of trust in her father had been a painful lesson to learn. Sarah’s shameful silence these past weeks had been about curling up in a hole and licking her wounds. It was easier to be alone—to work and sleep and nothing more—than it was to doubt other trusts she had given, to fear the consequences of other choices she had made. At least alone, she could inflict no more damage on her own fragile sense of self, or on anyone else she dared to care about.

But then the naps had become more frequent, had lasted longer. She had caught a feverless flu bug that hit about the same time every morning if she didn’t snack between breakfast and lunch. A blue dot on a little plastic stick had confirmed what she’d already suspected. The report from her Ob/Gyn this morning had made the dreaded news official.

Sarah couldn’t hide anymore.

A woman was dead. Her murderer had skipped the country. Sarah’s deposition was on record, but without a killer to put on trial, her testimony was useless. Teddy Wolfe was dead, by her brother’s hand, so there was no way to confront him for what he had done, no satisfaction to be gained by exposing him for the player he was. And even if she hadn’t severed every connection with her pimp of a father, there was no helping him with his addiction.

Sarah was helpless. Useless. She could do nothing to make things right.

But she could be honest.

As she stole a glance at the man reflected in the elevator’s polished steel doors, she knew she owed Cooper Bellamy that much.

They’d left the elevator and crossed through the security checkpoint on the first floor before Coop said his next word.

“Here.” After shrugging into his own Army-issue camo-print jacket, he pulled her canvas barn coat from her twisting arms and held it so she could switch her purse from hand to hand and slide her arms into the sleeves.

“Thanks.”

He pushed open the door that led to the building’s granite steps down to the sidewalk and street. When a trio of uniformed police officers met them coming up the steps, Coop touched his hand to the small of her back and guided her to the side, out of their path.

His gentlemanly considerations surprised her. The speed with which he did the job and broke contact with her did not. Feeling the chill of his aversion to her as much as the bite of the autumn breeze on her cheeks, Sarah buttoned her jacket and thrust her hands into its deep pockets.

The touch of his fingers at her elbow burned through canvas and cotton, but only long enough to dodge traffic as they crossed the street and headed north toward a clearing dotted with trees and benches and modern sculptures. “The park looks pretty empty. We can walk through it up to the courthouse and back.”

“That’d be fine.” The city block that had been cleared of condemned buildings and reclaimed to offer a spot of beauty in the midst of downtown renovations should have been a balm to her frazzled nerves and traitorous stomach. The oaks and maples were studded with red and orange leaves, while the shrubs surrounding each seating area had turned a rich yellow. But even though a couple shared a bench and a picnic lunch and a pair of women power-walked over its concrete paths, Sarah couldn’t share an appreciation for the safety and beauty of the place. She fisted her hands around the strap of her purse and debated how she was going to start this conversation. None of the words she’d been rehearsing seemed adequate enough.

They were halfway to the courthouse when Coop broke the silence for her. “So, are we just gonna walk and pretend we’ve got nothing to say to each other, or is there a point to this exercise?”

Sarah counted the steps off in her head. One. Two. Three. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

Oh, God. She’d skipped every preamble. Every explanation. Every apology. Was the blood draining from her head? Or was the sidewalk suddenly spinning for some other, more logical reason? “I’m going to have a baby.”

“I know what the word means. Do you want me to say congratulations?” He stopped her with a hand on her arm and the world quickly righted itself. But his grip was as tight as the clip of his words. “Or are you lookin’ for backup before you tell your old-fashioned brother that you’re having a baby without benefit of a husband first?”

“Don’t joke, Coop.” He pulled away and she took that as a cue to keep walking. “I’m three months along. That makes you the father.”

She took four more steps before she realized he’d stopped. When she turned to face him, she saw cold-eyed suspicion filling the laugh lines on his face. “Impossible.”

Sarah curled her arms around herself, around the innocent beginnings of life growing inside her. She’d never seen that kind of hardness in Coop’s expression before. “You and I didn’t use protection that morning. And I wasn’t on the pill because I’m not…I wasn’t…sexually active.”

“It isn’t mine.”

“Why are you…?” Sarah checked her temper. He had every right to be angry, though she hadn’t expected this flat-out denial. “Look, I’m not telling you this because I expect something from you. I’m not looking for a wedding ring or child support or anything.”

“Hell. Those things I can give you.” He turned and headed back toward headquarters, his long legs quickly putting distance between them.

Sarah hurried to catch up. “You’ve always been a good friend and I wanted to be up-front about it. Before my belly starts to show and people start asking questions. I didn’t want you to think I was hiding it from you.”

He whirled around and Sarah backpedaled to keep from running into him. “You slept with someone else.” His statement of fact sounded like an accusation. “Or was I the fling? Old Coop wasn’t good enough? Being together didn’t mean a damn thing to you, did it?”

Old? Try virile. Wonderful. Loving. Sarah tilted her head back to absorb every bit of hurt and accusation he hurled from those dark blue eyes. She tried to bring back the familiar kindness with the truth. “It meant everything. I needed you. I needed…But it was too soon. I wasn’t ready for emotions to kick in. I couldn’t handle anything serious. I may never be able to give you…to give anyone…”

Oh, God. Sarah’s strength faltered. Coop’s face swam out of focus and her stomach churned. She’d missed her morning snack, lunch was late, the growing baby made such demands on her body. Guilt made such demands on her soul.

She had slept with one other man. But they’d used a condom.

Squeezing her lips shut against the roiling protest in her stomach, Sarah opened her purse and fished for the bag of snacks she carried inside. She found the bag but couldn’t see the opening, couldn’t find the zipper, couldn’t get it open. “Damn it.”

She swayed. She was falling. She was going to be lying on the grass, losing her breakfast—and Cooper still wouldn’t understand the obvious truth. The hopeful truth.

“Sarah?” Strong hands grabbed her by the elbows and took her weight. Her cheek hit soft flannel, and a harder warmth underneath. “C’mon.”

Then she was twisting, floating. Sitting on a solid bench with two hands at her waist to steady her, and a firm shoulder in front of her to brace herself against. The spinning in her stomach calmed to a manageable level, and she blinked Cooper’s face into focus. He knelt in front of her, his angular features softened with cautious concern. Sarah pulled her hand from his shoulder and traced the line of his jaw.

“You have a good heart. You’d make a wonderful father.” But the honest observation turned his concern into a scowl. Feeling an imagined frostbite in her fingertips, Sarah quickly retreated and pulled the bag of fruit and pretzels from her purse. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this on purpose. I need to eat.”

“You should have said something. Here.” He took the bag from her fumbling grasp. His fingers worked more surely than hers to open it and pull out a bag of pretzels and an apple. “Which do you want?”

He opened the pretzels she reached for and zipped the apple back into the bag. The salty snack was tasteless on her tongue and dry going down her throat. But the effect on her stomach was almost instantaneous relief.

Coop waited for her to eat a palmful before speaking again. The bite of sarcasm had left his voice, but an unfamiliar hardness shaded his eyes and aged his expression. “Look, I knew you were upset about sleeping with me. But I thought it was because you preferred to have me in your life as a brother—or you were worried about it messing with Seth’s and my working relationship. I had no idea you regretted it because you were already sleeping with someone else.”

“Stop saying that. I wasn’t seeing anyone. I mean, you weren’t…” Sarah stopped chewing and swallowed. No, no, no, no, no. She and Teddy had done it once. Thankfully, she’d made him use a condom. It had been embarrassingly quick. Awful. A terrible mistake. But accidents happened. She and Coop had thrown caution to the wind. It had been beautiful. Natural. Redeeming. Perfect. She curled her arm around her stomach and looked deep into those blue eyes, willing him to understand. This had to be Coop’s baby. “We spent all morning in bed, making—”

“I can’t father a child.”

Sarah shook her head, desperate to make sense of Cooper’s hurtful words. Tears stung her eyes, but she blamed the hormones and swiped them away before they could fall. “It has to be you.”

“I didn’t use protection because we didn’t need to.” Coop pushed to his feet and sat beside her with a resigned sigh. He pulled off his cap and rubbed his handsome, shiny head. Not a style choice. A consequence. “You know I had cancer, right?”

She nodded. “Sure. Seth talked about it. He said you were in college at the time—before he knew you. But he said you were okay. I mean, look at you. You’re a strong, strapping…” Suddenly stricken with real compassion, Sarah reached out and curled her fingers around his forearm. “Oh, my God. You’re not sick again, are you?”

He shrugged off her touch as if it repulsed him. “No. My cancer’s history. I take care of myself. I go in for regular follow-ups. I’ve been cancer-free for five years now. With surgery and radiation, I beat the damn monster. But not without some collateral damage.”

Sarah tilted her gaze to the top of his head. “So you can’t grow hair.”

“And I can’t make babies.”

Coop was raw inside. He never talked about this. But Sarah’s news hurt so damn much. It was like the army officers at the front door. The no-nonsense doctor in the tiny exam room.

Sarah wasn’t his—never had been. Still, he felt betrayed.

In a perfect world, he’d be the only man in her life. But there was nothing perfect about his dad being killed in action, then finding out the same month he had a tiny tumor growing in his prostate gland.

He’d had to beat the cancer. Not for his sake, but for his mother’s. And for Katharine, James, Grace and Clint, Jr. His family needed him to step up and be the man of the house. He had to be the strength, the financing, the discipline, the love and support in his father’s place. Sure, there were government benefits. Every Bellamy worked, from part-time jobs to paper routes. His dad’s older brother, Walt, now a retired professor from the University of Missouri, had sent money and offered help however he could.

But he had to be the man. He had to be there for the day-to-day stuff. Sacrifices had to be made. And Coop, a young man who hadn’t even reached the prime of his life yet, had done it willingly.

The urologist had warned him there’d be a change in his sex life. Oh, the plumbing all worked now, worked just fine. But there was something like a ninety-nine-percent chance he could never make the miracle of life happen. All his little Coopers had been sacrificed so that he could live.

To take care of his family.

To become a cop.

To love and lose out big-time.

Sarah needed to hear the truth. He needed to hear the reason why he’d kept his distance from a woman who seemed so crazy-right for him that, even now, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and kiss some color back into her cheeks. But he wouldn’t be that much of a fool. He needed to remind himself why he should have walked away that morning instead of giving in to what he thought they’d both wanted. “I’m sterile.”

“Sterile?” she echoed. If possible, her skin grew even more pale.

“You may be pregnant…” Maybe some bastard had broken her heart. Maybe the father didn’t mean any more to her than Coop did. But the sympathy she wanted, the acceptance she’d expected, wouldn’t come. “But that baby isn’t mine.”