Free Faithful by S. A. Wolfe Page B

expression.
    “I’ll see you around. I’m going to get some work done,” I say joyfully in a rehearsed manner. That’s not like me, making me fully expect my phoniness to cause a little fire and brimstone action; perhaps my hair will start smoking or my head will turn into a swarm of hissing snakes.
    “Humph,” Cooper grunts and grabs my shoulders, pulling me in for a quick kiss, enough to nip my lips.
    Hot damn.

 
     
     
    Eight
     
    How does this keep happening?
    Is it really possible that my one drunken episode has caused this domino effect so that every time Cooper sees me he feels entitled to kiss me? It’s not like I’m fighting back or cursing him out. I realize I’m letting this happen. I keep talking friend-zone shit and boring myself to death with my pithy rationalizations, and then I let my tongue do whatever it wants when Cooper touches me.
    Leo looks unperturbed by the incident as he jumps in the truck and waits for Cooper.
    Cooper cups my cheek. “You’ll probably see me sooner than you think.”
    “I guess,” I concede since he’s clearly outmaneuvering me at every turn.
    While they drive off to go back to the Murphy estate, I trudge into the house, replaying the last few days with Cooper over in my mind. It was my kiss and bold behavior at the party that started this whole series of events. I changed our relationship from that of a standoffish acquaintance on my part to something more potent that’s brewing in both of us.
    I drop my purse on the front hall table and kick off my shoes before walking upstairs to the workroom where Lauren is finishing the designs. She’s quite a talented artist when it comes to drawing the details of each necklace pattern. She lays them out like a blueprint where each bead is marked with a code that correlates to a specific bead size and color. Her drawings look like paint-by-number pictures in that respect, and it makes it very easy for us to fill the bead trays and see what the actual necklace will look like before we string them on the various jewelry wires and add the hooks and closures.
    “You’re going to love what I got,” I exclaim as I take the items out of the bag and reveal the exquisite pieces to her.
    “They’re gorgeous.” She picks up the necklace with the largest black, faceted teardrop and fifty smaller carved black beads. It has some engraved silver balls interspersed and some muted, chipped gemstones. The clasp is broken and some of the beads are missing, but we’ll remove the good parts and incorporate it into some of Lauren’s new designs. That’s how each piece of jewelry we design becomes one-of-a-kind. We can’t replicate a single necklace with the exact same beads because we only have one of everything when it comes to the vintage pieces. When they are strung together with new Swarvoski crystals or vibrant gemstones, they become our own little masterpieces.
    “The broker there gave me this whole lot, all ten pieces, for seven hundred.”
    “You did great. I’m so excited about this new batch of designs. Sasha’s is going to love it. Seriously. I bet business will take off.”
    “I hope you’re right.” I sit down next to her, ready to get to work.
    “There’s something I have to tell you.” Lauren’s eyes have sort of glazed over, hiding whether she’s about to tell me something sad or if she’s holding back enthusiasm.
    “Is it bad?”
    A smile spreads slowly across her effervescent face. “No, it’s really good,” she beams. “It wasn’t planned, and it wasn’t exactly prevented, but now … I’m pregnant.”
    My jaw drops, a joke about protection immediately coming to mind, but then I see she is serious. My best friend is pregnant. Lauren is going to be a mother. If anyone plays her cards right in life, it’s Lauren. She doesn’t do anything half-assed, and frankly, I’m lucky to have a friend like her giving me advice and confiding in me; as a result, I have to be happy for her.
    Her face watches me