The Girl Next Door. Cynthia Eden
didn’t want to cross that threshold. She didn’t want to, but Gabrielle still needed Cooper’s help. “Yes. I am.” She offered her hand. “Gabrielle Harper.”
The woman’s shake was firm and warm. “I’m Rachel.”
You weren’t supposed to dislike people you didn’t know. She’d just met pretty Rachel. Rachel seemed friendly. Rachel also seemed to be eyeing her with a gaze that was a little too assessing.
Then Cooper appeared. He strode down the hallway, a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. No shirt. His hair was wet. Fresh from the shower.
When he saw Gabrielle, he came to a very fast and hard stop.
“Company,” Rachel murmured as she dropped Gabrielle’s hand. A faint smile curled her lips. “I was just getting acquainted with your nice neighbor.”
Cooper’s blue gaze narrowed. Then he started walking again, a determined stride that carried him right to Gabrielle. “How’s your head?” His hands lifted, as if he’d touch her head. “I’m sorry I left you at the hospital—I’m not family, so the doctors wouldn’t let me stay with you.”
She caught his hands, flushed. “I’m fine. My dad always did say that I had a hard head.”
He didn’t smile. “You were unconscious in that alley. When I first saw you, I was afraid that you were dead.”
She was still holding his hands in front of his girlfriend. This scene was so awkward. She stepped back. “I didn’t mean to interrupt when you had company. I can come back later.” She sidled toward the door. “It was, uh, nice to meet you, Rachel.” Total lie.
Cooper gave a rough bark of laughter. “Rachel isn’t company. She’s—” But then he broke off, frowning. “Wait, who do you think she is?”
That was a weird question, but Gabrielle blurted, “Girlfriend?”
Rachel was the one to laugh then. “He should be so lucky.” She bent and scooped up a designer bag. “We’re just friends. No worries on that score.” She winked at Gabrielle. “Maybe that makes it nicer to meet me?”
It did.
Rachel inclined her head toward Cooper. “And maybe you can meet up with me and Dylan later? I know he’d love to get an update on you.”
Cooper gave a quick nod. “Will do.”
It had to be her imagination, but Gabrielle could have sworn the enthusiasm in his voice was faked.
Rachel slipped away a few moments later, and Cooper locked the door behind her.
Gabrielle’s hands twisted in front of her. It had been almost two days since she’d last seen him. She’d thought about him plenty during that time.
Especially when the flowers arrived at the hospital—lilacs, her favorite. There hadn’t been a card, just the flowers.
“You sure that you’re okay?” He took her elbow and guided her to the couch.
She’d be better—less distracted—if he put on a shirt, but Gabrielle nodded. “I needed to thank you, both for finding me in that alley and for the flowers. I, um, lilacs are my favorite.” She wore a lilac-scented body lotion, because she loved the smell so much.
His blond brows lifted. “How do you know they were from me?”
She blinked. Embarrassment burned through her. Since she wasn’t dating anyone, she’d just assumed they were from him. “I—”
He laughed. “You sure are pretty when you blush. And, yes, they were from me.” His fingers brushed back a lock of her hair. “I’m glad you liked them.”
She had those lilacs upstairs, sitting in a vase on her kitchen table. Every time she looked at them, she smiled.
But you’re here on business. Don’t get distracted. Gabrielle cleared her throat. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
His hand lowered. She was hyperconscious of the strength of his body next to hers. “Sure. Give me just a minute, okay?” He rose and disappeared down the hallway.
She didn’t move. She wanted to move. She wanted to pry and search—
Hold that curiosity back.
She stayed locked to the couch. He returned quickly, pulling a black T-shirt over his head. The man certainly seemed to enjoy wearing black.
“I was about to make some dinner. Want something?”
Gabrielle shook her head.
A half smile lifted his lips. “Come on, I make a mean spaghetti. It’s a recipe I stole from Rachel. Her family’s Italian, and no one does spaghetti better.”
Her stomach growled.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured.
Then he headed into the kitchen. She heard pots and pans clanking. Gabrielle rose and followed after him. “I didn’t come here so that you would fix me dinner.”
He already had the water set to boil. Tomatoes were spread out on the counter.
“That’s right,” he said easily. “You came here to ask me questions. So ask.”
While he cooked? She’d expected something a little more...businesslike.
“Ask.” He sliced the tomatoes. Fast and with almost fanatical skill. She’d never seen anyone be so good with a knife.
“I...um...” She exhaled slowly. Stop being frazzled with him. “Did you see anyone else in that alley with me?”
He stopped slicing. He glanced at her, held her gaze. “It was dark. I could only see you.”
That didn’t mean that no one else had been there. “Did you hear anything?” Gabrielle asked carefully.
He dropped the pasta then came toward her while the sauce simmered. “No, I didn’t hear anything.” He propped against the counter and studied her. “Why?”
“Because I don’t remember falling.”
“After a head injury like yours, I know it’s common to forget—”
“What I do remember,” she said, speaking quickly and cutting through his words, “is a man’s voice.”
“What?”
“I told Lane—Detective Carmichael, but he said the alley was searched thoroughly, both before and after my ‘accident,’ and there was no sign of anyone else there. Anyone else other than you, anyway.”
Lane wasn’t exactly a fan of Cooper’s. In fact, he seemed pretty suspicious of Cooper. But then, Lane was suspicious of most folks. That was his nature.
“If you’re trying to ask me if I slipped into the alley and slammed your head against a wall...” She saw Cooper’s knuckles whiten as he clenched the edge of the countertop. “The answer is no, I didn’t do that.”
Gabrielle quickly shook her head. “That wasn’t the question I was asking. I know you didn’t do it. You’re the guy who keeps rushing in to save me, not hurt me.”
He blinked. A furrow appeared between his brows. “That’s a whole lot of trust to give someone. You don’t know me that well.”
“I know you well enough to realize you aren’t a killer.”
He gazed steadily back at her. “Do you?”
What kind of response was that? It almost sounded as if he were trying to scare her. “Look, it wasn’t your voice.”
Cooper held up a hand. “You’ve lost me.”
“I remember hearing a man’s voice. It wasn’t your voice.”
Now