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No way would his parents let the Rawlings suggest getting rid of the baby if he claimed it as his. They took care of their own and would find a way to fight Jo Ellen’s mighty family to help her keep her child.
Her eyes had widened with disbelief and even more hope. “So, we…we…”
He nodded and lied, “Yes. We did.”
Air rushed from her lips in a soundless gasp. She shook her head slightly as if to argue. “I…but I don’t remember it at all.”
He gripped her hands tighter in a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”
After they’d talked about what they were going to do from there, he’d walked her inside and stood supportively by her side as he told her parents he—not Travis Untermeyer—was the true father.
He had expected fireworks, and he got them. But not the kind he’d expected. Not one member of the Rawlings family believed him, not Emma Leigh, not Grady, not even Jo Ellen’s parents. He’d opened his mouth to argue with them, but Jo Ellen had turned to him, her eyes searching and confused. He folded like a goddamn house of cards, and she saw the lie in his gaze.
“We didn’t have sex, did we?”
He winced but refused to give in. “I can still help you with the baby, Jo Ellen. Whatever I have to do, I’ll do it.”
He’d meant those words from the bottom of his heart. Hell, he still would’ve meant them to this very day if she found herself in the same situation.
But she had shaken her head, refusing to let him throw away his future because she’d done something stupid, as she called it, and gotten herself into trouble. He tried to argue, telling her he didn’t care whose baby it was, he’d love it and raise it as his own.
In response, Jo Ellen doubled over in pain, clutching her abdomen as she moaned an un-human sound of misery.
He still felt guilty about that, worried he’d been the one responsible for upsetting her into having the miscarriage.
“Man, you’ve really buffed up in the past ten years,” Em said, drawing him back from a conversation that had potentially induced the girl of his dreams to lose her baby, and to the conversation in Tommy Creek’s bar ten years later.
Damn it, why had he tried arguing with her about raising the child, why had he upset her even more?
Coop patted his belly and forced a smile. “Yeah, Mom’s fattened me up since I moved back home.” But his nerves strung themselves stiff with irritation as he mentioned his mother. After finding that damning letter, he’d yet to talk to his mom.
But he didn’t want to think about that right now, even though it was another reason he’d been craving a night out, away from home.
Emma Leigh snorted. “Fat! What fat? You’re pure muscle, boy.” She reached out to squeeze his bicep only to gasp as she prodded his taut flesh with investigative pokes. “Good God, Coop. That’s rock solid right there. Do you eat straight iron for breakfast or what?”
“Okay, okay,” Branson cut in, laughing nervously as he grasped Em’s wrist and manually removed her hand from Coop’s body. “That’s enough of touching the nice man’s muscles, dear.”
Coop chuckled as he studied her husband. Decked out in a prim and proper polo shirt with Dockers pants, the guy had city written all over him, yet Cooper found himself liking him anyway. He’d never pictured Em settling down with anyone in the first place, but if he had to pair her off, a man with this kind of staid, preppy look about him would definitely not have been his first guess. And yet, his friend seemed extremely content.
Cooper shook his head. Fate didn’t let you choose who you fell in love with; that was for damn sure. Just ask his mother.
“He seems more like the type to hook up with the princess,” he told Em before realizing what he’d just said.
Emma Leigh propped her elbow on Cooper’s shoulder and studied her own husband. “Yeah,” she fully agreed. “But I love him anyway.”
Branson glanced from Em to Cooper, scowling. “Huh?” he said. “Translation please.”
Emma swept away from Cooper to kiss her husband full on the mouth. “Coop says you look like you belong more with Joey than you do me.”
Arching a brow, Branson slid his gaze over her shoulder and grinned almost guiltily at Cooper. “Well, actually,” he started, the tops of his cheeks glowing with a light blush. “I tried for Jo Ellen first. But this one tricked me, so I ended up stuck with her instead.” By the satisfied gleam in his eyes, he didn’t seem too upset about the deception.
But his account of events had Emma glaring at him, obviously not amused. “I did not trick you.”
Snorting, Branson crinkled his brow and with a very bland voice, stated, “If you’ll recall, the only reason I kissed you that first night was because I thought you were Jo Ellen.”
Emma jerked away from him and set her hands on her hip. “What I recall is that you didn’t kiss me at all. I kissed you, moron. And the only reason you pulled away was because you thought I was her.”
“Well, what the hell were you doing, parading around as her anyway? If I’d known it was you, I might’ve—”
