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CHAPTER THREE
Cooper had driven straightthrough, and he’d made it in one piece. He was so tired and wired he was practically hallucinating, but he’d made it to his newly purchased home.
Having a little trouble backing the truck and trailer onto his driveway, but it was his driveway, he was sure about that.
Pretty sure. There was the sale sign, complete with shiny new ‘SOLD’ sticker. Yep, his place.
But what a complete pain in the ass it was to back a trailer from a U-Haul.
He checked his side mirror and saw enough of the trailer to see that it had turned onto the gravel ‘lawn’ and missed the driveway itself completely. Again. Okay. Try number ... four, maybe? Yeah. Four. Or maybe five. Whatever. Third time had not been the charm, he knew that.
Ready to put the truck in drive and straighten everything out, Cooper faced the windshield.
There was a woman standing in front of the truck. Pink plaid pants and a baggy grey hoody. Bare feet.
She was squinting against the glare of the headlights, but despite that, she had a little pistol aimed at him. Squared shoulders, spread legs, two-hand hold. Somebody had been to the gun range and gotten some lessons.
Wait. Hold up. Hold the fuck up. A chick was aiming a gun at him? In the same twenty-four hours that Rooty-Tooty-Trooper-Rudy had pulled his piece on him, some rando blonde was gonna threaten to put a hole in him, too? What thefuckwith this trip?
Fuck that bullshit right in the ass.
He threw the truck in park, shoved the door open, jumped down to the street and stomped toward the front of the cab. The woman held firm, her aim following him.
He got all the way in front of the truck, like eight feet away from her, when it finally dawned on him how completely stupid he was being.
Hey, Coop. Maybe don’t rush the chick aiming a gun at you like she’s that hot cop fromLaw & Order.
“Iwillshoot you if you come closer,” she said to underscore the point his brain had finally made. Her voice was surprisingly calm and assertive. Steely little chick.
It was a little gun, but it looked like a .38. That could stop him just fine. So maybe take a beat and not get shot, huh?
Pulling up short, he put his hands up and dredged up a smile he was not at all feeling. “Hey there. I don’t think we’ve met, but it looks like we’ve got a problem already?”
“Yougot a problem, buddy, yeah. It’s three o’clock in the morning! What are youdoing?”
Her voice was both forceful and oddly muffled—and with that observation, Cooper realized how loud the music coming from the cab was. Tumblers started falling into place in his overtaxed, overcaffeinated brain. Three a.m. Loud music. Big truck. Quiet neighborhood.
Oops. Heh.
Carefully holding up one finger in a gesture he hoped she was smart enough to understand asHold on a sec, Cooper backed up to the cab, stepped up, grabbed his phone from the console, and shut the music app down. Silence dropped like a thunderclap.
Trying for a more sincere and conciliatory smile, he hopped down and said, “Sorry about that. Been listening so long I didn’t realize how loud it was.”
His apology bounced off her. She neither moved nor changed her expression. Her aim remained fixed.
“Okay. Maybe I’m an asshole, but I’m not a threat. Promise. Pinky swear. You can put the gun down.”
She did not. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Just trying to move in.” He nodded to the house that was his. He was pretty sure it was his. Had he missed a turn or something? This neighborhood was like a maze, with every house looking basically the same. Shit. Was he trying to park in the wrong driveway?
