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He looked at her over his shoulder. “See how sweet you’d think they are, city girl, if you’d been six years old and had those two-hundred-pound porkers charge you whenever you went into their pen. One slip, and you’re lunch. They’ll eat anything.”
“Well, we eat them, so . . .”
“I’m not saying there isn’t some kind of divine justice at work, but kids and pigs don’t belong together.” He pulled out a chef’s knife. “I still have nightmares about them.”
“Let me get this straight. You, Cooper Graham, five-time first team All-Pro, two-time NFL MVP, are afraid of pigs?”
“Yep.” The blade hit the cutting board.
She laughed, then remembered she wasn’t here to be entertained. “I went to see Dell this morning. Not a single bruise on him.”
“Are you back to this again?”
“Did you know your close pal Keith and his girlfriend Taylor moved out of their place without leaving a forwarding address?”
He pointed the tip of the knife in her general direction. “For the last time. It was a mugging, not some preplanned attack.”
“I’m sure you’d like to think so. Help me sort through it, will you, so I can stop obsessing about it?”
He scraped the back of his hand over the beard scruff on his jaw. “Keith’s a hothead, but the two of us already had it out.”
“That was before Taylor got fired, right?” She located the eggs.
“Staging an ambush isn’t his style.”
“You have more faith in your old pal than I do.” She rummaged for some cheese and found a chunk of imported cheddar.
“While you’re sorting things out . . .” He gazed across the counter at her. She wished he’d pull up his pants. Or zip his sweatshirt. Or go bald. Except he’d still look great.
“Aren’t you overlooking a couple of more obvious villains in your imaginary scenario?” He carried the leeks over to a chopping board. “Starting with that mysterious client who hired you to follow me?”
“If I had any doubts about my former client, don’t you think I would have acted on them?” She located a skillet and cheese grater. “I promise you, my mystery client isn’t a threat.”
“Exactly. Nobody is. It was a random crime. Some thug who was lurking in the alley looking for easy prey.”
She wasn’t getting any more out of him now, and she temporarily backed off. “How are things with Deidre coming along?”
“Slower than I’d like, but she’ll come through.”
“You’re sure about that.”
“She’d be crazy not to. I have a great concept and the right connections to carry it off.”
She didn’t miss the determined set of his jaw. In Coop’s mind, once he’d decided on something, it was as good as done.
After that, they worked together without saying much other than “Stop hogging the sink” and “Where’s the sriracha?” She sautéed the vegetables in a little olive oil, tossed in the eggs she’d beaten, and topped them with the herbs he’d chopped along with a generous handful of grated cheddar. He took plain white plates from the cupboard and extracted the bread he’d put in the toaster.
By the time everything was ready, the domesticity of the scene had started making her itchy. She wished she didn’t like him so much, but how could she not? Coop was the man she’d have wanted to be if she’d been male. Setting aside his money and fame, he was smart, he understood hard work, and, except for being stubborn and dictator
ial, he was rock-bottom decent.
“Let’s eat outside,” she said as he poured them coffee. “But only if you zip your sweatshirt first.” She needed a good reason other than the real one. “Those bruises aren’t exactly appetizing.”
“Your sympathy for human suffering warms my heart.”
“I’m a giver, all right.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled.
