“The nearest nunnery would probably be best.”
Coop caught her arm, holding her in place. “I’m not playing games with you tonight.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Before he could answer, Butch joined them on the other side of the bar. “How you feeling, Coop?”
Coop let go of Natalie’s arm, catching her hand instead and holding tight.
She looked down at their entwined hands. He was breaking her rule about holding hands in public. Then again, last night she’d been willing to have sex on the back patio with him, blasting her sabbatical vow to smithereens.
Criminy, Kate wasn’t the only one flirting with bouts of insanity.
“Like I was used for target practice this morning,” Coop answered Butch.
“Dick Webber called me this afternoon. He wants to pay for your ER visit and offered up his new mixer as a peace offering.”
Coop chuckled. “Tell him I know it was an accident and not to worry about the bill.”
“And the mixer?”
“I don’t need his mixer. I’m between houses at the moment. I’d rather have his Remington shotgun.”
“You’ll have to pry that antique out of his cold dead hands.” Butch took a drink from his glass of soda pop. “Did you change the bandages like the nurse told you?”
“No.”
“I can help you with that,” Natalie offered before her brain realized what her big mouth had done.
Coop scowled. “I don’t need a nurse.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “You could certainly use someone to remove that rectal thermometer.”
Butch laughed.
Coop tried to hold a straight face, but his grin surfaced. “Fine, Beals. You’re hired—for the bandages.”
Mac joined them, inquiring about Coop’s injuries. After that, the conversation moved to cars. Natalie left to collect money from one of her tables. Her hand stayed warm from Coop’s touch long after she’d pulled free of his grip.
An hour later, the bar had a smattering of customers left, including Coop. Kate had given up on her quest to expose the killer for the night, keying in some Fleetwood Mac hits on the jukebox. Claire was working behind the bar with Mac while Butch sat next to Coop, picking his brain about being a small town detective.
“You should take him home,” Kate told Natalie as they cleared a table.
“Butch? He’s your problem.”
“Funny girl you are not. I’m talking about your cop.”
“He’s not my cop.”
“If you say so, but he’s tired and winces every time he moves.”
Kate was right. Natalie had noticed the signs of Coop’s pain, too.
“I think he’s waiting for you, though,” Kate said, taking the tray of dirty drink glasses from Natalie.
It had been a long time since a guy waited for her. “But I need to help clean up.”
“Butch, Mac, and I have this, and Claire already cleaned the kitchen. The rest is a breeze. Take Coop back to the RV park. He needs some rest.”
“Can I leave my pickup in the lot overnight?”
“Give me your keys. Butch and I will drop it off at the General Store on our way out of here and leave the keys behind the counter.”
Natalie handed them off. “Thanks.”
Kate sniffed, leaning closer. “You smell like a drunken floozy. Take a shower before you try to sex him up.”
“Shhh. I’m not going to sex anyone up,” Natalie said under her breath.
“Of course you’re not,” Kate said, clearly full of disbelief.
“You’re the one who stumbled into me and spilled the pitcher of beer down my front.” Luckily, Natalie had caught Kate before she hit the floor along with the beer pitcher. “You need to wear safer shoes, preggo. No more slippery-soled boots.”
“For the hundredth time, I apologize about the beer and I promise not to wear boots to work anymore. Happy? Now get out of here before I dump the next pitcher over your head.”
“Don’t even try it, spaz-o-matic.” Natalie took off her waitress apron and stuffed it partway down the back of Kate’s pants, making her cousin squeal.
She joined the group at the bar. “I’m tired,” Natalie said when there was a break in the conversation. “Kate says I can leave for the night.” She waited for Coop to make eye contact with her. “You ready to go? I have bandages to change while you snarl and bark at me.”
“Sure.” He finished off the glass of whiskey he’d been nursing for the last hour and stood, his movements stiff.
“Don’t let him close enough to bite,” Claire said, grinning wide. “He’ll chew through your chastity belt.”
“That’s it, Slugger.” Mac looped his arms around Claire from behind. “You’re coming with me.” He carried her off through the batwing doors.
Natalie waited for Coop by the door, not offering to help with his coat because she knew it would only make him growl at her again.
With a wave good-bye to Kate and Butch, she followed Coop out to his uncle’s pickup.
“Let me drive. I’ve had less to drink than you.” She held out her hand for the keys.
He shrugged and handed them off, opening the driver’s side door for her. He rounded the front of the pickup, joining her in the cab as she started the engine.
“What are you doing, Natalie?”
She turned onto the road leading to the park, the headlights illuminating the cholla cacti and tumbleweeds lining the ditch. “Taking you back to the RV park so I can practice my bandaging skills.”
“I don’t need a nurse.”
Natalie didn’t feel like butting heads with him, so she came at him sideways. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
For a few seconds, he didn’t answer. “On the couch in the fifth wheel.”
She made a buzzing sound. “Wrong answer.”
“Okay. Where am I sleeping tonight?”
A glance in his direction found him watching her. “On the queen-sized bed in my grandfather’s Winnebago.”
He focused out the windshield.
The tires thump-thumped over the tar strips lining the asphalt. “City of New Orleans” played on the radio, Willie Nelson crooning in the dark. Natalie nudged the vents so they didn’t blow her way. She was plenty warm just being alone with Coop, no help required from Harvey’s rig.
“Am I sleeping there alone?” Coop asked.
Well, that was the big-money question,
