Faithful (38 page)

When he returns the following week, pulling his truck into the parking lot, I stop what I’m working on and look out the window to watch him. He unloads a box from the back of his truck, holding it in one hand and closing the gate with the other. He pauses and looks directly at me. With a single wave, he looks away and walks inside the factory.

“Kcuf,” I say softly.

“What’s wrong?” Lauren asks from the table where she’s working with Anita on a complicated necklace.

“Nothing.” I return to my seat.

“Cooper is back,” Tracy says for Lauren’s benefit.

“Good,” Lauren says as she searches for a bead that fell from her hand. “We’ll have to invite him over for dinner soon. He needs his friends around him.”

With Lauren’s baby bump finally showing, she has taken on a more motherly tone overall, as though it’s her duty to act older.

“He has a lot of friends at work. He’s very comfortable in that factory,” I remind her.

If she invites him over for dinner too soon, it may be awkward for him, for us. I feel like I’ve rejected him twice, although my heart would disagree. Does he really want to be around me when he’s still grieving? My presence may spark some hostility on his part, or maybe I’m jumping ahead again. Maybe Sofia is back in his life and my feelings for him aren’t relevant. Considering my position on future commitments is entirely the opposite of Cooper’s; it would be easier to suffer the heartache now rather than later, get him out of my system and love him like a brother.

I can’t stand our separation; as a result, two days later, I get up the nerve to take a homemade pie to Cooper’s house. I have to see him. I have to talk him. I have to know if this is all there is or if there’s more for us.

My nerves and emotions have gone haywire since Lauren’s wedding. A thousand times, I’ve talked myself into pursuing him and then talked myself into forgetting him. You can’t pursue someone who doesn’t share the same basic fundamentals about being a couple, and worse, you cannot forget someone if your heart is holding on with a Titan’s grip.

I drive up to Cooper’s house, the surrounding autumn colors giving me a little boost. I’m wearing my new, tall boots and a fitted, leather jacket while hoping I don’t come across as trying to look like Sofia.

As I lift the apple pie off the passenger seat, it’s still warm in my hands. Cooper’s front door is open and I hear pounding, the sound of some type of construction. I only see his bike and truck, no other vehicles, so I’m hoping he doesn’t have visitors, namely one beautiful doctor. I walk through the doorway and head down to the kitchen where I find Cooper smashing his cupboards and counters with a sledgehammer.

I’m too enthralled with the way he throws his whole body into the destruction of the woodwork and orange Formica to say anything, and besides, nothing can be heard over the deafening sound of the splintering wood. When he turns for another swing, Cooper notices me. He stops mid-swing and lowers the sledgehammer.

“Hey,” he says in a neutral tone.

“Hi. My grandmother made you an apple pie.” I hold it up higher. “You’re working on your house again. That’s certainly one way of removing the old cabinets. Or is this a Dylan Blackard method of working off aggression?”

“It’s a good release, yes.” He tosses the sledgehammer into a pile of debris. “But if Bonnie makes me pie, I’m eating pie.” He walks towards me and takes the pie then pulls two forks from the silverware drawer.

I notice boards with swatches of stones and wood, so I peruse them more closely. “I like this stone for the tiles, and I like the cherry wood for the cupboards.”

Cooper looks at my color scheme choices and then holds up the pie. “Let’s eat this thing.” When he nods towards the porch, I follow him.

Since I was last here, retractable glass panes have been added over the screens. “You made it a full-season porch?”

“Carson convinced me to do it. The screens are removable and the glass opens like a gas station door.”

“I see that. Good idea. Very cool.”

He places the pie on a coffee table and tosses two cushions from the new wicker couch on the floor. They’re still encased in heavy plastic, so when we sit down on them, they make a ruckus.

“I suppose it’s time to set up this room,” he says, looking around.

“It’s time to eat pie.”

He digs in with his fork and takes several mouthfuls. “Fucking good,” he growls.

“I should have brought vanilla ice cream to go with it.”

“Pie this good doesn’t need ice cream. You better have some of this, or I’m going to eat it all.”

I take a bite and the warm, soft apples ooze together with the cinnamon and brown sugar, a familiar taste from my grandma’s home.

“Culinary perfection. I love your grandmother’s food.” He polishes off half the pie without my help and then puts his fork down. “Why couldn’t anyone bring this kind of food to the grief buffet?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have thought of that.”

Cooper smiles. “I’m joking. I can’t remember what we were eating at my mom’s house. It was a never-ending supply of food. It was nice that all those people came through the house and brought us food, but I don’t think any of us could really taste anything. We were eating because we were supposed to. I feel like I’m tasting food for the first time. This pie is incredible. And so is the woman who brought it.”

That feels good to hear, and I shiver like a little girl. At least I don’t giggle. “How is your family doing?”

“Better. It helped to have my mom at home and everyone in the house every day. It was tiring, though. We all talked until we were sick of each other, but it made the funeral easier. And it’s better knowing she’s not in pain anymore.”

“I like your family. Greer is really something. She was taking care of everyone. You, too. You’re a natural with people. The big ones and the little, poopy ones.”

“Yeah,” he says with a laugh. “I’ve changed a lot of diapers over the years. Greer liked you, too. So did my mother.”

I toy with another bite of pie, pushing it around in the pie tin.

“What’s wrong? You’re not talking as much as you usually do, and you haven’t said anything snarky yet.” He quiets my fidgety hand and removes the fork.

“Being snarky to someone who just lost his mother isn’t really appropriate. Am I that bad?””

“I need someone to make me laugh. I’ve been fucking miserable without you these past few weeks.”

“Me, too.”

As I reach out to stroke his cheek, he catches my hand, holding it against his leg.

“I didn’t think I would ever feel that way about you,” I say. “And I didn’t think you could do it. But you did—you broke my heart.”

His expression darkens. “You ripped my heart out, Imogene. How many times have you walked out on me? The last time I saw you, you left me standing in the street.”

“Then let’s make each other feel better. I won’t mention how much you love your family and how everything you do revolves around them and that your opinion on marriage is bullshit.”

Cooper scoffs with a faint smile.

“I won’t mention any of that.” I get on my hands and knees and crawl a breath away from his face. “For tonight, you can have my body, and we’ll make each other feel good. Tomorrow, we’ll go back to being frenemies and won’t mention it.”

“You’ve propositioned me when I’m at my weakest, and I want you more than anything I’ve ever wanted. I accept your terms, only because I’ll most likely renege later. But you know that.”

“I do, and I’m willing to take my chances because …”

“Because you want me inside of you.”

“Yes.” I’m unsteady at the thought of his naked body.

Cooper unzips my boots, pulls them off, and then strips my jacket and blouse off as he kisses me hard. I fall to the floor where he straddles me, helping me to remove the rest of my clothing. I undo his zipper and discover he’s not wearing underwear. Then, after he removes his work boots, T-shirt, and jeans in a matter of seconds, I wrap my hand around his hard cock.

“I’d carry you to the bed, but I recall that you have a thing for the floor.”

I shut him up with my mouth, pulling him down by the neck and kissing him until I have control over him. My other hand strokes him and rubs him against the wetness building in me. He’s ready to push into me, and I want him to. I want it hard and fast, and I don’t want to think about words like
love
and
forever
. My legs have him where I want.

As he’s about to enter me, he jerks back. “I don’t have a condom. Shit!” He’s instantly a bundle of tense, knotted muscles above me.

“I’ve been on the pill since I was seventeen, and I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

“I’ve never done it without a condom, either,” he grits as though his composure is hanging by a thread.

“What about the pretty doctor?” I ask mostly to toy with him, although also out of a warped, jealous curiosity.

Cooper looks like he’s being strangled. “Sofia? It’s been at least six years. I always used a condom. I haven’t been with anyone except you in the last six months.”

That makes me smile, and I stroke the tip of him until he’s slick and pulsing in my hand.

“Christ, can we do this?” He watches my hand fondle him. “Now?”

“Yes.”

With the magic word, he thrusts into me with enough force to push the rug a foot backwards. I yelp as he fills me.

“Ah! God,” he bellows. “This feels better than I expected. Jesus, why did I ever use condoms with you?”

“Because I told you to.”

“Right.” He smiles at me as he gains stability on his arms and tries out a few thrusts. “It’s very different without armor. Let’s make use of this.” He lifts one of my legs and throws it over his shoulder. “You’re very flexible, and I can think of quite a few things I want to do with you.”

He adjusts his body so he’s thrusting into me at an angle, slow at first with a circular motion. While I’m so wet and delirious with lust that my limbs feel detached and lifeless, Cooper is lost in his own nirvana over his newfound discovery, the raw contact between us as though he’s losing his virginity … to me.

He kisses his way down to my breasts and takes one peaked nipple in his mouth, sucking until I feel the sensation in my wet core, making me writhe against him. Then he moves to the other nipple and sucks it even harder before biting his way back up my throat. I shudder and moan and finally move my hands to grip his shoulders.

With him getting harder and stretching me, it sends me into a hysteria of need. I buck against him as he begins pounding into me, hitting that sweet spot. I cry out as the orgasm builds.

“Like that,” I say breathlessly. “Harder … faster. I’m almost there.”

Someone or something growls; it’s either Cooper or a bear in the woods. I hold on as if I need to get closer to him as he keeps striking that beautiful spot. Then I arch up as the eruption builds in me. Cooper drops to his elbows and furiously pounds into me with short, fast thrusts that send me over the edge, spiraling into bliss.

He shouts my name and empties into me with three more thrusts before collapsing on top of me.

“Home run,” I whisper, feeling spent.

Cooper chuckles but doesn’t move.

“You’re getting heavy,” I say dreamily.

“Sorry. This feels so good. I don’t want it to end.”

“The night’s not over.”

He props himself up and puts his weight on his arms again then slowly detaches himself from me as if we’re a fragile coupling. Then he looks at me with that beautiful, forlorn expression that makes me swoon for him. I close my eyes to shut out his beauty. I don’t want a broken heart tonight; I just want to feel him again.

“I’m going to get us some water.” He kisses me then grabs his boots.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

“You have to put on your shoes if you’re going to walk through the kitchen. There are nails and sharp broken things everywhere.” He stands up, wearing only his steel-toed boots. I stare at him.

“Kcuf. You look hot like that.”

“Hold that thought.” He grins and goes into the kitchen.

While he rummages in the fridge, I slip on my knee length black boots and make my way across the kitchen to the bathroom. When I return, Cooper is leaning against the counter, chugging from a water bottle. As he sees me, he spits up some water and practically chokes. His eyes travel from my boots up my naked body, his cock springing to life and giving me a full salute. I put my hands on my hips and watch him with amusement.

“Shit, Imogene. You look like a naked Wonder Woman.”

“It’s the boots.”

“It’s the woman.”

“Thank you.”

He puts the bottle down and strides towards me, climbing over a pile of debris. Dressed, Cooper can be an intimidating figure; naked, in his big heavy boots, he looks like an imposing god who misplaced his toga.

He cradles my face in his hands and kisses me with a loving gentleness, as though something he lost has now returned. Those romantic thoughts swim through my head, and I should shut them off, tune them out. However, I may only have this one night with him, and I damn well am going to make the most of it. I will suffer the consequences later.

“Put your hands here,” he commands as he places my palms on the edge of the remaining countertop. “Step back and bend over.”

I do as he says, and he pushes my legs farther apart with his knee, his erection pressing against my ass as he palms my wet clit. It doesn’t take much for him to make my legs weak in the knees as he circles and plays with my wet folds slowly, tauntingly, and with expert control considering how hard his cock rubs against me.

When he slips his fingers inside me, my head flops down and I grip the counter and let my hips go wild, undulating in ecstasy. I gasp as a sharp spasm of pleasure ripples from my center to the tips of my breasts. I am so close to climaxing, but Cooper is keeping it slow and steady, torturing me so I can’t reach my happy ending.

“Cooper!” I say desperately.

He thrusts in from behind, almost knocking the wind out of me. I’m holding onto the counter at a ninety-degree angle as he holds my hips and jerks me back towards him with each thrust. The gentle giant is gone. Cooper is all power, forcefully gripping my hips to the point of pain and pulling me harder to bury himself deeper.