Page 12 of The Love Lie
He purses his lips as he thinks over what she said. But it’s a good plan—the only fix, and they both know it. Still, he cocks his head to the side.
“There’s only one problem as I see it,” he murmurs, tone serious. “We have to spend five days together. Five days sharing this bungalow. Five days playing engaged…” He trails off with a deep exhale. Just as a concerned line forms between her brows, he breaks the tension with a sudden twist of his lips. “Think you can keep your hands off me for that long?”
His gaze drops to where her wayward palm has landed back on his chest and he snickers.
What the hell?
When did that happen?
She snaps her hand back—This is getting ridiculous—and sneers. “You know, my sister told me you were the nice one.A complete and total gentleman, I believe were her exact words. But I see you, Cooper Kelley. I. See. You.”
“And what exactly do you see, darlin’?” he murmurs, laying his accent on thick and leaning closer.
Sam doesn’t shy away. She’s no shrinking violet. Instead, she follows suit, not stopping until their noses are a hair’s breadth from touching. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing, but don’t worry, buddy. It takes one to know one, and my teeth are bared.”
“Aww. That’s cute. But I’m not a wolf, Cuj,” he whispers. The touch of his warm breath sends a ripple down her spine. Her every nerve stands alert, buzzing underneath the surface of her skin. A sudden gleam enters his eyes, laced with promise, with innuendo, with challenge. The dimple in his cheek deepens. “I’m a cowboy. Think you can handle it?”
“Oh, I can handle it,” she promises as she slides her hand up his chest, deliberately this time, letting her fingers drift over hard muscles and hot skin, all the way up to the back of his neck. Desire flashes in his eyes. She smirks and snatches that hat off his head, before taking a step back. Then she plops it right down on hers, holding his gaze as she says, “The real question is, can you?”
Not giving him time to answer, Sam spins on her heels and marches toward the bedroom door. Halfway there, fully aware of his eyes still on her, she reaches back to unzip her dress.
You want to play, cowboy?
Let’s play.
The sequins have been scratching her all day, and it’s nothing but a relief as she wriggles the straps from her shoulders. The material drops straight to the floor without even a hitch in her step. Cool air brushes over her exposed skin, sending a wave of goose bumps across her flesh. She’s in nothing but a thong, high heels, and his hat.
Cooper sucks in a sharp breath.
Sam grins.
“I’m taking the bedroom,” she calls over her shoulder, not bothering to glance back as she slams the door in his face.
CHAPTER FOUR
cooper
Well,fuck me if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Two minutes since she slammed the door and he’s still rooted to the spot, picturing the round curve of her perfectly grabbable ass. He wonders if she even knows what it means in his world to take a cowboy’s hat—that you want to take him for a ride. And damn if that doesn’t sound like a wonderful proposition. Too wonderful. He’s hard as a rock and though half of him wants to charge after her and call her bluff, the other half—the sane half—is exactly what she said. Too much of a gentleman to invade her privacy like that.
So instead of barging into her room, he takes another minute to collect himself before walking stiffly into the living area. He’ll make it into her bedroom soon enough, he has no doubt. There’s too much fire between them to last five days in the same suite without combusting. But he sure as hell won’t be the one to break first. So tonight, he’ll have to make do with the couch.
It’s comfortable enough, but no cushion in the world is soft enough to stop his fidgeting. Every time he closes his eyes, all he sees is her bare skin in the moonlight before she disappeared behind the door, nothing but a slim white strip of fabric to blockhis view, and the challenge in her eyes as she settled her hat on his head. To say his balls are blue by the time he falls asleep is the understatement of the century. He may as well be a Smurf.
I’ll play your game, Samantha Peters, he thinks just before consciousness slips away.But I sure as shit don’t plan on playing fair.
The next morning, Cooper wakes with the dawn. A lifetime of rising alongside the sun is hard to overcome. It’s ground into him. Innate at this point. But it works in his favor. He sits for an hour drinking coffee and secretly plotting while pastel colors dance over the sea. By the time he hears a rustle on the other side of the bedroom door, he knows exactly what to do.
Before Sam emerges from the room, Cooper strips off his shirt, pants, and socks, until nothing remains but his boxer briefs. Then he walks through the sliding glass door and onto the small deck suspended over the water. After pausing just long enough to stretch his arms over his head to awaken his tired muscles, he dives headfirst over the side. The water swallows him like a warm embrace, almost on the wrong side of refreshing compared to the frigid Nebraskan rivers and lakes he’s used to. He drifts there for a moment, completely at peace as the world slips away. There’s no current trying to drag him downstream, no weeds trying to pull him into murky depths. He can see all the way to the sandy bottom as the ocean holds him close, rocking him side to side with the gently flowing tide. It’s so different from home—so marvelously different he wants to soak in every second. Who knows when or if he’ll ever be in a place like this again?
No matter how much he wishes his motives for joining the show were purely about the ranch, it was about this moment right here too. He can’t lie. The chance to travel was just as much of a draw. Since the day he was born, he’s known exactly where he’d be for the rest of his life and exactly what he’d bedoing. It’s an odd way to live. Growing up, he’d listen enviously to his friends speak of their lives like uncharted maps, no set destination, no chosen path. But as an only child, his destiny was the ranch whether he wanted it or not. Oh, he’d rebelled, of course. Ran away from home at sixteen. Joined the rodeo after high school. Went to college and threatened to never come back. Then his mom got sick. She’d needed him. So he came home, simple as that. He worked beside his father. He learned the business of the ranch, not just the hard labor. And he loves it. He really does. The horses. The cows. Sunsets over the open fields. Stars as far as the eye can see. It can be backbreaking, but also exhilarating. And when it boils down to it, the ranch is home. It’s deeper than a legacy. It’s in his blood. Yet no matter how hard he tries, beneath the weight of the responsibility hides an itch he’s desperate to scratch—to see the world, to be free.
Trish had been Eve with the apple when she made her offer to do the show, and he’d been Adam, unable to stop himself from taking a bite. They’d gone from Los Angeles to London to Paris to Rome to the Okavango Delta—places he thought he’d never see outside of his dreams—and selfishly he still wants more.
Maybe my father was right after all.
The thought makes his chest burn.
