Page 60 of Not Our First Rodeo
“Why?”
“It’s distracting,” he says.
My breath catches in my throat when his thumb slips beneath the hem of my shirt, touching bare skin.
“How?” I manage to ask, mortified at the way my breath comes out like a pant.
“I won’t be able to think about anything else,” he answers, his finger tracing the line of my waistband until it gets to where it’s folded down just below my belly button. My stomach jumps beneath his touch, and I know he has to notice, but he doesn’tremove his hand, just keeps tracing his thumb there. I have to hold in a gasp when he hits the top of my underwear.
“It’s not a cute look,” I say, my voice embarrassingly breathy. “I’m getting more stretch marks, and I look like a can of biscuits after you crack it open in these jeans.”
My breath hitches when his entire hand engulfs my stomach, moving upward, stopping just before he hits anything interesting.
“I like the bump,” he says, and it sounds like a scrape of sandpaper.
“Really?”
He shakes his head. “No, that’s a lie. I love it.” His mouth moves closer, right next to my ear. “I like knowing my baby is growing inside you. I like knowing I did it. It makes me feel oddly…possessive.”
“Oh,” I gasp.
“Does that bother you?” he asks, again right in my ear, so close I can feel the heat of his breath, the brush of his lips.
“No.”
He smiles then, and even though I can’t see it, only feel it against the shell of my ear, I know it’s wicked. He’s so close that I wonder if he can feel my heart race, thumping wildly in my chest.
How the hell did we end up here? In the coat closet at his parents’ house, having this conversation?
“Elsie baby,” he says, sounding a little desperate and a lot wild.
My heart somehow ratchets up incredibly faster. “Yes?”
“Can I—”
I don’t get to hear what he’s going to say because the door to the closet is yanked open, and there is Cooper, grinning at us maniacally.
“Hello, brother.”
Beau groans against the side of my head, and with a palpable reluctance, slips his hand out from beneath my shirt.
“Elsie, you’re looking well,” Cooper says, leaning on the doorframe. “Rather flushed.”
“Shut up, Cooper,” Beau says.
“And you’re looking pretty har—”
“How have things been with you, Coop?” I interrupt, trying to will the blush from my face.
“Oh, things have been good,” he says, grinning at me. “Not as good as the two of you seem to be, of course.”
“Coop, did you find them?” Lottie, Beau and Cooper’s mom, yells down the hall.
Cooper holds our gazes for a long moment, drawing out the tension, a smirk playing at his lips. Finally, he answers, “Yeah, they forgot something in the truck. Just walked back in.”
I heave out a sigh of relief.
“Come on, you two,” Cooper says before spinning on his heel and heading down the hall toward the massive living room.
