The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 5

  “Okay, partner. Then how about respecting my decision to pursue the suspect as I saw fit?”

  “I—”

  “Because you know I’ve been doing this a hell of a lot longer than you have.” He could see Park’s frustration growing. His corneas were expanding slightly, the carefully contained animal within waking up at the blatant disrespect.

  Good.

  Get angry, Cooper thought. He wanted Park as furious as he was. He was so sick of always being the one to lose control. Of being the one left trembling and unraveled at Park’s feet. The one who had to run and hide his emotions behind closed doors because god fucking forbid he share himself with someone who wasn’t willing to share back. Who even now was trying to retreat behind the same blankly professional mask he gave everyone else.

  “I know you’re a good agent. I didn’t say you weren’t. But sometimes—” Park shook his head.

  “This has really not been your night for finishing a sentence. Sometimes what?”

  Park’s eyes flashed, and if possible his face got stonier.

  “I, the senior agent, made a call, and you know what? It got us Fasser.”

  “It got us this,” Park countered, holding up the torn jacket.

  “What, a ripped jacket? I was planning on getting that let out in the shoulders anyway.” Cooper shrugged as blasély as he could. “Saves me a trip to the tailor.”

  “Don’t joke about that.” Park threw the jacket across the room.

  Cooper’s heart raced. Fuck hayrides, the thrill of a good argument was burning through his veins. Vaguely he knew he should stop, turn back before he broke something irreparable. But the moment he stopped feeling angry, the hurt would set in.

  “What’s this about really? Is it what happened before? With...” He could hardly say the name. “With Je-Jefferson? You really don’t trust me on my own with a suspect? Just like the rest of them.”

  “Of course I do,” Park said, sounding exasperated. “That’s not it at all. If I don’t trust you with anyone, it’s yourself.”

  Cooper stopped short. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that to me.”

  Park eyed the scratches on Cooper’s shoulder and then glanced down, lingering on the four thick scars across Cooper’s belly peeking out of the towel around his waist, still prominent well over a year later.

  “Sometimes I worry you aren’t being careful. Like you need to prove something or”—Park gently took Cooper’s hand and squeezed—“like you don’t care what could happen.”

  Cooper blinked, shocked enough that his anger disappeared for the moment, like a cloud passing across the sun. “You think I’m, what, trying to get myself killed?”

  “No. I did not say that,” Park said firmly.

  “But you think I take unnecessary risks. You don’t think I handle myself properly in the field.” Cooper hesitated, but this time Park didn’t argue. “That doesn’t sound like you respect me as an agent.”

  Park shook his head and stroked Cooper’s hand with his thumb. “No, I do. I just want to protect you.”

  Cooper laughed quietly, frustrated that Park was toying with the line that he himself had drawn not five minutes ago. “But that’s not how this works. We’re partners, remember? Just partners. I don’t need you to protect me. I don’t need you to worry about me and feed me. I am a grown-ass man. I don’t need you.”

  Cooper’s breath caught as the last words slipped out. But it was too late. Park’s face had gone carefully blank. He let go of Cooper’s hand.

  “Park, that’s not what I—”

  “No, I understand. And look, you’re right. Of course.” Park looked away. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I don’t respect or trust your abilities. That was never my intention.”

  “Oliver—”

  “Cooper, please. I’m tired.” Park hesitated, and Cooper couldn’t breathe waiting for the rest of that sentence. Tired of having this conversation? Tired of taking this shit? Tired of you? “I just want to sleep.”

  Ah. That kind of tired. Either that or he’d changed his mind. Because, some people actually, you know, think before speaking so as not to hurt others. Park pulled off his clothes quickly, tossing them across the room with uncharacteristic messiness.

  “Can I...” Cooper didn’t even want to ask because he didn’t want to be denied. He cleared his throat. “Can I stay?”

  “Of course,” Park said. Soothing words, but the tone was flat and he didn’t quite look at Cooper as he said it, busying himself with getting under the covers.

  Cooper settled in beside him, not touching, and turned off the lights.

  The sudden darkness counterintuitively made the room feel less intimate than before. Lights and shadows from the road invaded the space and danced across the ceiling. The occasional voices of people in other rooms drifted in through the walls. Cooper felt exposed and alone. He wanted to reach for Park, to reassure himself of that connection, that he was still...there. But the potential pain from Park pulling away from the touch or, god, outright rejecting it, far outweighed the slightly sickening feeling of being shut out from him.

  Cooper put his hand tentatively in the space between them in bed and watched his own fingers play with the sheet for a while. Then he studied Park’s profile from under his lashes. His mouth looked soft and relaxed, and Cooper longed to brush his fingers over it. Park’s eyes were still open but unfocused, awake but not really here. Obviously lost in thoughts that Cooper could only guess at but did not seem particularly pleasant.

  The fear of what those thoughts could be pulled Cooper’s hand back from the middle ground and rolled him over so his back was to Park. He curled up slightly and didn’t dare move again until morning.

  Chapter Three

  Cooper listened to the sounds of Park in the shower. His eyes were itchy from a long night’s shitty sleep. Well, that was one way to clarify a relationship status. Get the other person to break up with you. Christ, what a fuckup.

  The shower stopped and Cooper’s heart beat double time. He had the absurd urge to run out of the room, like if Park didn’t see him he wouldn’t remember what an asshole he was.

  The bathroom door opened and Park slipped out with a cloud of steam, scrubbing his wet hair with a towel, another slung low on his waist. Cooper followed the drops of water running down his muscled torso, some of them catching in the dusting of hair beneath his belly button, others making it all the way to the towel’s edge before being absorbed.

  He licked his lips. Even when Cooper was anxious, overtired, and upset, Park managed to turn him on.

  “Good morning,” Park said, interrupting his staring. He was smiling slightly and sounded normal enough, but his eyes were shut off in a way Cooper hadn’t seen in a while. Not since they’d first met and Park had been keeping secrets. It was the first time Cooper realized just how much Park had relaxed around him since then.

  Well, not anymore.

  “Good morning,” Cooper said, wincing at his own scratchy voice.

  Park started rooting through his carryall. Cooper knew he should get up and go to his own room to dress and pack, but the tension, Cooper’s or Park’s or both, was like a third guest in the room, and he was afraid of leaving Park alone with it.

  He cleared his throat. “Uh, Oliver?” Park looked at him, and Cooper struggled to get his tongue in position. To say something, anything. “Are you upset? About...last night?”

  “No.” Park smiled but then quickly turned back to his bag.

  “Okay.” Cooper watched him for a moment. “So, are we good?”

  “At what?” Park replied, voice a little wry. It was an obvious joke but cut Cooper off at the knees. “Checkout’s in an hour. Will you be ready to head out by then?”

  “Yes, of course.” Cooper winced, sitting up and glancing at the clock. For not feeling like he slept at all, he’d
certainly slept in.

  “I figure we can get breakfast on the road. Or not. DC isn’t that far.” Park shrugged.

  Park not caring about food? Cooper’s gut, which rarely had problems these days, cramped viciously, and he doubted it was from the possibility of not getting fed. The slight anxiety he’d felt before blossomed into full-on fear. He was suddenly convinced that if they went back home without fixing this, he’d never see Park again. Not like this. Not like he wanted to. They wouldn’t be going back to Cooper’s together, that seemed sure. Park would disappear to his own place to freshen up or check up on some things, and while he was gone he would think about just how not worth it Cooper was.

  He didn’t even know where Park lived. Generally, yes, but he’d never been there. It was always Park calling Cooper up, always Park stopping by, or picking him up, or coming home with him. Park making the effort while Cooper had obstinately refused to show the slightest interest in Park’s life, too afraid to show his cards. Well, now he’d bluffed too far and Park didn’t want to play anymore.

  “Oliver—”

  Park looked at him, waiting. A flicker of something behind those hard amaretto eyes that gave Cooper the tiniest bit of hope. If he could say the right thing, find the right words to explain, maybe—

  Somewhere on the floor, his phone started vibrating. Cooper scrambled for it distractedly, and when he looked up again Park’s expression had closed.

  He answered the call. “Dayton.”

  “Coop? It’s me.”

  “Dad, hey.”

  Park tossed his towel over a chair and started getting dressed.

  “I finally caught you before coffee, huh?”

  “What?” Cooper blinked, trying to refocus from Park’s firm ass and his morose wondering if this would be the last time he got to see it. Could he continue working as partners with Park, having him so close but untouchable? A daily reminder of his screwup?

  “Only your pre-caffeinated brain forgets to screen my calls.” Sheriff Ed Dayton—no, recently retired ex-Sheriff Dayton—laughed too loudly.

  Cooper winced. “It’s not like that, Dad. I’ve been on a case—”

  “Sure, Coop, sure,” Ed interrupted dismissively. “Just checking what you’d decided on for this weekend.”

  “This weekend?” Cooper repeated dumbly. Trying to salvage his relationship, digging his way out of thirty plus years of emotional repression, spilling wine and tears at an unimpressed Boogie’s feet like a sacrificial offering if the above didn’t work out.

  “Your brother and Sophie’s bash. Don’t tell me you’re screening your mail now, too. The bureau of whatever lending you out to the NSA?”

  Cooper grunted, tuning out his dad’s usual ribbing. He’d completely forgotten about his brother’s engagement party, writing it off as sometime in the fall and to be worried about then. Well, technically it was fall now and the party was this weekend.

  “Shit,” he muttered. Park paused in pulling on his shirt and looked up at him concerned. Cooper shook his head to communicate everything was fine.

  Except nothing was fine. He hadn’t been to Jagger Valley since last winter. Not even when Ed had called him a month ago to tell him he had stepped down as the county sheriff, catching Cooper completely by surprise. Dean had chewed him out about not coming to visit after that. But he just...couldn’t. Not with Park and work and everything slipping through his fingers at home. Not after the last disastrous visit.

  He’d told himself he’d see his dad soon enough at the engagement party, and by then his own life would be figured out.

  “Shit,” Cooper repeated with more feeling.

  Park made a move toward him and then stopped. The memory of last night’s argument still drifted between them.

  I don’t need you to worry about me.

  Park jerkily forced his gaze away from Cooper and continued dressing.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot.” Ed’s voice was steely with disapproval.

  “No, of course not. I just—I’m heading back from Ohio today.”

  “Then you have to pass by home anyway. Come early. I could use you on a few projects I’ve got going.”

  “I’m with Oli—my partner, Park.”

  “Well, bring him along,” Ed boomed, his voice echoing in the room. “I’d like to get to know the man sharing my son’s cubicle.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “Coop, please. Dean wants you here. The whole town’s coming, practically. You know Dean. What are people going to say if his only brother doesn’t even show up to his engagement party? They’re going to think you have a problem with Sophie.”

  “What? Why would I—”

  “They’re going to think you’re sore ’cause you still love her.”

  Park’s whole body twitched at that, wolf hearing picking up every word of the conversation whether he wanted to or not. He grabbed the motel coffeepot and carried it into the bathroom to fill with water.

  Cooper groaned and pushed the phone tight to his ear. “Dad, we were twelve.”

  “So? It’s not exactly like you’ve brought anyone else home to meet me.”

  “Yeah, well.” Sophie Odell was his first and last girlfriend. She’d moved away after high school to go to some prestigious college, gotten married, had a kid, gotten divorced, moved back to Jagger Valley, opened a veterinary clinic and, in Cooper’s opinion, was way out of Dean’s league. Still, he wasn’t exactly pining, no matter what his dad said. “I think I’ve moved on.”

  “Good. Then there’s no reason you can’t be there,” Ed said cheerfully. “Bring Bench.”

  “Park.”

  “Yup.”

  “I don’t know. I’d have to talk to him.” Cooper glanced toward the bathroom.

  Part of him rebelled at the thought of introducing Park to his family and mixing the two halves of his life, his two selves. He wasn’t out in Jagger Valley, and despite the inevitable fantasy of just showing up with a man like Park on his arm and an “accept me or fuck you” on his lips, he wasn’t sure this was the practical time to change that.

  Dad, Dean, I’m gay. And this is the man I’m having sex with. Is he my boyfriend? I’m not sure. Partner? Well, we work together. Though frankly that part of our relationship has been showing some problems as well, and now I’m not sure if he even wants to be with me as a fuck buddy anymore.

  Yeah, no. He wasn’t doing that. Not until he fixed whatever was happening now. But Cooper feared if he left Park in DC and spent the weekend in Jagger Valley with this uncomfortable tension left between them, by the time he got back there would be no semblance of a relationship left to fix.

  Maybe...maybe if Park was with him in Jagger Valley it would be easier to talk. It was overambitious to work on a personal and professional relationship at the same time. That was the problem with covering someone’s ass in and out of the field, in different capacities. All their issues were getting muddled up. Away from work maybe Cooper could see if Park cared about him just as a partner or as a...partner.

  He imagined Park at his side for the inevitable hours of fishing and hiking with his family. Having his warm, steady arm around him at night, keeping back the gloom his childhood home always seemed to invade upon his mind.

  “Coop. Cooper, are you listening to me?” his dad was saying.

  “’Course.” Not.

  Ed sighed, not fooled. “Coop, listen, this weekend is...important. Okay?”

  “Yeah.” It was. Because hell if he was going to let Park slip away without a fight. And if there was one thing Cooper was good at, it was fighting.

  He promised his dad he’d get back to him and said goodbye.

  He could still hear the sink running in the other room. Either Park was washing the hell out of that coffeepot—not a bad idea—or he was trying to give Cooper some semblance of privacy.

>   Cooper knocked on the partially closed bathroom and pushed it open. Park was standing at the sink, overflowing pot in hand.

  “That’s enough for me, thanks. But what about you?” Cooper said. Park twitched a smile in the mirror, turned the water off, and fiddled with pouring a reasonable amount out. “Did you catch most of that?”

  “I apologize. I wasn’t trying to intrude.” Park always sounded a bit prep school when he was uncomfortable. A result of being raised by wealthy-as-sin grandparents who had always kept their family separate from the local kids. Park had once joked his grandparents still operated on the feudal system. As the biggest, oldest pack around, they taught their children to be responsible for the town but did not allow them to get close to the “regular people,” human and wolf alike. He’d laughed when he’d said it, but Cooper’s heart had ached for the little Oliver who craved companionship and attention but was constantly denied both.

  “It’s fine,” Cooper said hurriedly. “Good, actually. Now I don’t have to go over it again. So.”

  “So?”

  “Do you, uh, want to come?”

  Park met his eyes in the mirror. “You don’t have to invite me just because I overheard your father say so.”

  “I know,” Cooper said, a little peeved. “I want you to come.”

  Park frowned at that. “You do?”

  “Yeah, ’course. I mean, my dad will probably grill you on whether you played ball, any ball, in high school, Dean will slap your back a couple hundred times, everyone in Jagger Valley will show up to the party, invited or not, because everyone loves golden boy Dean Dayton, and all down time will be dedicated to hiking and fishing or talking about hiking and fishing. It will probably be awful. So really, if you were smart you’d stay the hell away, and it’s pretty selfish of me to even ask. But I’m selfish. What else is new? Yeah, I want you to be there.”

  Cooper felt a little out of breath and his heart was beating unusually fast. God, he’d babbled through that.

  Park turned around so he was face-to-face with Cooper, his expression a little unsure but warmer than before. “I played basketball freshman year of high school. Does that count?”