Jess immediately relaxed against him. “Thanks. Me, too. Although”—she shot him a grin over her shoulder—“I need more wardrobe space. Your second bedroom maybe?”
“Wait.” Cat stared at them, astonished. “You moved in together?”
Cooper hugged Jess close, giving his sister a look that said, Back off. “We didn’t see any point in waiting.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Cat shook her head in disbelief. “It’s never been slow with you two so I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“Are you mad?” Jess said.
“Who cares if she’s mad?” Cooper huffed.
Jess frowned at him. “I care.”
At that Cat gave her a big smile. “Did I mention lately that I like you?”
“Me, too!” Joey cried. “Are you going to be my aunt?”
Now it was Jess’s turn to blush a little. “Not right this second.”
Cooper wrapped his arms around her shoulders and drew her back against his chest. “Someday, Joe. And you’ll be my best man.”
Joey smiled. “Really?”
“Of course. Who else?”
His nephew cocked his head to the side. “Will I have to wear one of those stupid penguin suits?”
Cooper flicked a look at Cat. She shrugged. “What? They are stupid penguin suits.”
“Probably,” Cooper told Joey.
“Oh. Okay. I suppose that would be okay.”
There was mirth in Cat’s eyes as she studied Jess, who had gone absolutely still in his arms. “Maybe you should stop freaking your girl out with the wedding talk.”
He winked at his sister and then pressed a kiss to Jess’s neck. “Okay. No more wedding talk. At least for a while.”
Jess relaxed at his teasing tone and shook her head. “It’s a good thing I’m a little crazy because you all”—she gestured around the bar—“are more than a little crazy.”
“Ach.” Cat grabbed Joey’s hand, striding toward the door. “What’s life without a little crazy?”
“Boring,” all three of them said.
Cooper grunted in amusement as his sister and his woman burst out laughing, his nephew looking up at his mom, happy whenever she was happy because he was a good kid who loved his mom.
And that was when it hit him.
The piece of the puzzle that had been missing . . . he’d found it.
Because right then, standing in his bar with them, he finally felt like he had everything he’d ever need.
EPILOGUE
Jessica
To say the chair of the city board of licenses appeared extremely uncomfortable with what Cooper and I had to say was an understatement.
“I can assure you that no one on my board would take a bribe,” Christine Rothwell said sternly.
“I’m sure you know that what we’re suggesting is not outside the realm of possibility,” I said.
She looked down at her desk. “And who are you proposing is bribing someone on my board?”
I found her avoidance of my gaze more than a little disconcerting. I hoped like hell that whoever had taken the bribe wasn’t the freaking chair of the board.
“You know we can’t say who,” Cooper said. “That opens us up to slander.”
“So let me get this straight.” Christine sat back in her chair. “Everyone who has signed this petition”—she gestured to it on her desk—“will close their doors if Mr. Lawson’s liquor license isn’t renewed?”
“Exactly.”
“This is blackmail. You could be arrested for this.”
“Maybe so,” I said. “But along with a huge hit to the town’s economy, there will be a media frenzy. That media, as well as the police, will look into our concerns and I’m not exactly convinced you want them looking into your board.”
“We have nothing to hide.” She lifted her chin in defiance.
“Are you sure about that? Because we’re sure someone on your board has taken a bribe and we’re sure we know who paid them off. And we’re willing to risk everything on this. Are you?”
Christine considered us, her eyes hard with anger. “Give me a moment while I retrieve your file, Mr. Lawson.”
They waited patiently as she typed away at her computer. She studied her screen, her eyebrows pinching together. “You reapplied a few weeks ago . . . and there is a notice on the application.” She shot us a wary look. “It has been denied.”
Cooper tensed beside me. “Any reason on there for it?”
“It states here that the police have been called to the bar on a number of occasions in the past year for antisocial behavior.”
“That’s bullshit,” Cooper said, sounding calm even though I knew he wasn’t.
I glowered at Christine Rothwell. “I’m sure all you have to do is make a few calls to the police for them to deny any such claims.”
“And all Mr. Lawson has to do is appeal to the state to have his license renewed.”
“That’s months in court,” Cooper said, sounding less patient. “Perhaps a year. I can’t lose out on a year’s income, Ms. Rothwell.”
“It’s the legal way to do this,” she bit out. “Not barging into my office to blackmail me.”
“We’re not blackmailing you,” I said. “We’re giving you a heads-up. Have you heard of Vaughn Tremaine, Paradise Sands Hotel? He’s signed the petition.”