The last thing he wanted was Dawn thinking that the two of them could become friends.
* * *
This was not how Dawn had expected to be spending her wedding night.
Letting the hotel room door swing shut behind her, Dawn leant against it and surveyed the small double bed, the tiny fridge in the corner and the TV on the wall. The window looking out over the street was ajar and she could hear the noise and laughter of downtown Reno filtering up through it.
Not exactly the four-poster bed in the luxury boutique hotel on the Californian coast that she’d booked for her and Justin’s first night as man and wife.
Dropping her carrier bag of meagre belongings on the floor, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and stared at the screen. No missed calls. No messages. No voicemails.
No word from Justin at all, except that infernal note he’d left her.
Dawn tossed the phone onto the bed and sank down to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was exhausted, but she knew she wouldn’t sleep, even if the hotel bed wasn’t as uncomfortable and the blankets as scratchy as they looked.
What was she doing? Racing across the country to try and find something to make herself feel better? To restore her broken confidence?
After picking herself up and starting again so many times before, when was she going to accept that this just wasn’t the life she was supposed to lead? She should have known better than even to try again after the last time, and the time before that.
And Justin. Gorgeous, rich, successful, happy Justin. How could she have imagined for a second that he could really stay that happy spending the rest of his life with her?
She’d tried so hard to fit in with his lifestyle, to be the sort of woman he’d be proud to have on his arm. She’d filled her wardrobe with those neat but expensive shift dresses he liked her in and binned all her old jeans, especially the ones with the holes in the knees. She’d stopped scraping her hair back and started spending time actually styling it in the mornings, wearing more make-up than a brush of powder and some lip balm when she remembered, or brightly coloured lipsticks when she wanted to make an impact.
She’d favoured neutrals over colours, even though they made her feel washed out and bland, because he’d told her that his mother believed that bright colours on a woman looked trashy. She’d read up on things he was interested in and learned to understand the markets and investments well enough to follow conversations at dinners in fancy restaurants. Hell, she’d even gone skiing with him and his friends, running up her credit-card balance even more to buy all the required equipment for the week, despite the fact that she hated the cold and had never skied before.
She’d given him her all. And it hadn’t been enough.
She wasn’t enough.
Sighing, Dawn pushed herself up off the floor and rummaged in the carrier bag for the new toothbrush and toothpaste she’d bought when they’d stopped. She hadn’t wanted to waste any of her remaining dollars on non-essentials, so there wasn’t much else in the bag, but at least she’d thought to pick up a cheap charger for her phone.
Now, when Justin didn’t call, she’d know it was because he didn’t want to speak to her and not because she’d run out of battery. Yay.
Okay, she wasn’t going to think about him any more. Not tonight, anyway. She was going to wash, get changed and get into bed. She needed her sleep if Cooper wanted her to drive again the next morning.
Of course, as soon as she’d finished cleaning her teeth and stripped off her skirt and tee shirt, she realised the thing she’d forgotten to buy at the shop.
Pyjamas.
‘Damn it.’ Frustration taking over, she threw her bag towards the bed, missing and sending the bedside lamp crashing to the floor as the ceramic base smashed. The light fizzed and went out, and she stared at it in the semi-darkness, the room only lit now by the illuminated signs outside her window.
Her anger drained away. She’d have to pay for that. Literally. With money she barely had.
This whole thing was a mistake.
‘Dawn?’ The banging on the door accompanying her name snapped her out of her reverie. ‘Are you okay in there?’
Cooper. Of course—his room was right next door. God only knew what he thought she was doing in there.
‘Fine!’ she called back, kneeling to gather the pieces of the lamp. ‘Sorry, just knocked something over. Nothing to worry about!’ Her voice was too high, too desperate, and he obviously heard it.
‘Open the door, Dawn,’ he said after a moment.
Sighing, she pulled on her pink tee shirt again, hoping it was long enough to cover at least the top of her legs. She might not know Cooper well yet, but she knew enough to be certain he wasn’t going away until she opened the door.
‘I broke the lamp, that’s all,’ she said, pulling the door wide to show him. He hadn’t changed yet, she noticed, so was still wearing his jeans and tee shirt, making her feel woefully underdressed. ‘I’ll pay for it myself when we check out.’
She watched as his gaze took in the darkened room, the lopsided lampshade then, very briefly, her bare legs. Clearing his throat, he stared at her face instead.
‘You’re not hurt?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Just been a very long day.’
Cooper gave a short nod. ‘Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
And he was gone, leaving Dawn alone with her broken lamp and her imaginings of what might have been if Justin had only showed up that afternoon.
CHAPTER SIX
SOMEHOW, COOPER FELT more tired the next morning than he had when he’d fallen into the lumpy hotel bed the night before. Ideal for a long day of driving, really.
He’d like to blame the poor-quality mattress, or the noise from the casino below, or even the tiny bottle of rum he’d liberated from the mini-bar before he’d fallen into bed. But, if he was honest with himself, he knew exactly what had kept him awake the night before.
Dawn Featherington.
Not the woman herself, of course—there’d been no sound from her room after the almighty crash that had had him worrying she’d thrown herself though the window without opening it. His heart had raced as he’d stormed out of his room and into hers, only to find her pink-cheeked and embarrassed but unhurt. At least, physically.
She hadn’t been able to hide the tear tracks on her cheeks, though, or the redness around her eyes. Her long, bare legs might have distracted him for a second—really, who wouldn’t have been distracted by those?—but mostly he’d seen her distress, even in the poorly lit room.
And he knew, absolutely, that it had nothing to do with a broken lamp.
Ever since he’d read Justin’s note, he’d been assuming that Dawn was just like Rachel. His ex-wife had set the bar for unfeeling, manipulative gold-diggers, but after seeing Dawn last night he was sure there was something more to this story.
Maybe it was just the frustration of seeing all her efforts come to nothing when Justin hadn’t shown up for the wedding. But Cooper couldn’t help but feel he was missing something about her. Could she really have loved him?
Groaning, Cooper rolled out of bed and prepared to meet Dawn down in the lobby. At least he had another few days on the road to figure out what he was going to do when they finally caught up with Justin.
A shower and a change of clothes helped him feel a lot more human, and seeing Dawn waiting for him by the reception desk, looking through leaflets for local attractions, relaxed him a little too. He hadn’t really expected her to run off on her own this time, but there was always the chance. He didn’t want her going after Justin alone. Not until he was sure about her motives.
She was wearing the same skirt she’d bought yesterday with a bright, sunny yellow tee shirt this time—one that didn’t look as if it would cover any of her legs. Not that he was thinking
about her legs. Much.
Engaged to your brother, Coop, he reminded himself. Also probably after the family money. Forget the legs.
‘Ready to go?’ he asked, lifting his own bag as she turned around. ‘We can grab breakfast on the road.’
She nodded, shoving a couple of leaflets into her plastic bag as she picked it up.
‘I spoke with Reception about the lamp,’ she said as they stepped out into the sunlight. ‘Gave them my credit card details.’
‘They probably have breakages like that all the time. I wouldn’t worry.’ Although she clearly was, for some reason. Some reason he suspected that was bigger than just a broken lamp.
And it was up to him to figure out what it was. To understand this woman before they reached the Hamptons.
Good job he had plenty of time and an enclosed space to do it in, otherwise he’d have been screwed. Understanding people, and their motives, had never been his strong suit. As evidenced by his marriage, if nothing else.
They stopped at a coffee shop to grab to-go cups and doughnuts before heading back to the car.
‘It’s going to be a hot one today.’ Dawn stared up at the bright blue sky as he opened the door. ‘Shame the Caddy was built before air-conditioning became an automatic add-on.’
‘The Caddy is a classic,’ Cooper said, instantly defensive. ‘Besides, it’s a convertible. No need for air-con. Not when you have the wind in your hair.’
‘And bugs in your teeth,’ Dawn muttered.
Cooper ignored her. Clearly this Brit couldn’t understand classic American design.
He took the first shift behind the wheel, wishing that the car had cup holders, instead of him needing to hold his coffee between his thighs. Not that he’d mention that disappointment to Dawn, of course. She had too little respect for the car as it was.
‘You should name her,’ Dawn said as he pulled back onto the interstate minutes later.
‘Name who?’ he asked, not taking his eyes off the road.
‘The car. Since you love her so.’ There was a forced sort of jolliness to her voice, and Cooper wondered if she was trying to put the previous night behind her.