Page 102 of The Love Lie
He pats Duchess on the rear and the horse takes off running toward a whistle in the distance. Wes, she suspects, but Sam doesn’t have the energy to look. It’s too comfy being snuggled up against Cooper’s chest while that word rings in her ears.
Home.
Why does it sound so right?
Cooper drops her off at the house to shower before he brings Nutcracker back to the stables. By the time she hears his truck pull up out front, she’s wrapped up in one of the flannels from his closet, scouring the kitchen for ingredients. The front door creaks open. Boots thud. He leans against the doorway and crosses his arms over his chest as a dimple slowly digs into his cheek. When it becomes clear he’s not going to say anything, she finally turns to stare back.
“What, cowboy?”
“Nothing.” His grin deepens. “I just like watching you, here in my kitchen, wearing my shirt, making my dinner.”
“Who said I’m making your dinner?”
“That’s a lot of food for just one.”
“All right,” she relents with a laugh. “Maybe I am making you dinner. But I have a confession.”
“Shoot.”
“I’ve never cooked a steak in my life.”
He puts a hand to his chest as if he’s been shot. She throws a towel at his face.
“Shut up.”
“I’ll show you how. Just give me twenty minutes to get cleaned up.”
He disappears down the hallway. Her gaze follows him, lingering on the empty air even after he’s gone. Pressure builds in her chest. It’s too normal, too domestic, too much of a view into the future she knows they can’t have, even if she wants it.
And she does want it.
She can admit that much.
She wants it more than she ever thought possible.
So she decides right then and there that for tonight, she’ll let herself have it.
By the time Cooper comes back, her guard has disintegrated into nothing. They cook together, then eat together, all the while touching and talking and sharing meaningful glances that say so much more than words ever could. If he can sense the change in her, he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t ask about the future. He doesn’t question what the morning will bring. It’s as if he understands on some level that stepping outside the here and now will ruin everything. They watch in comfortable silence as the sun sinks below the horizon, the official start of their last night together, even if for the first time it feels like the beginning of something else. Cooper holds her against him as they cuddle beneath a warm blanket on a lounge chair, his chin resting on her hair. Dusk settles, bright yellows, reds, and pinks replaced by a soft mauve sky. As the stars brighten, his promise from the Maldives comes simmering back.
The next time I kiss you, Sam, it won’t be because of someone else. It won’t be because you’re upset. It won’t be out of fear. It’ll be because you want it. It’ll be because you’re begging for it. It won’t be for anyone’s benefit but our own.
She can’t help but think,Damn it. He was right,as she spins in his arms and places her palm over his cheek. He glances down at her curiously. She wets her lips and says the only thing on her mind.
“Kiss me.”
He furrows his brow, as if concerned he heard wrong. She slides her leg over his thighs until she straddles him, the blanket still around them like a safe cocoon. His hands settle on her hips as though they belong there. She runs her fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment, a pleasured sigh rumbling through his chest. When he reopens them, it’s as if the stars fell down to earth just to live in his gaze. It’s not just heat, not just fire. It’s that same brilliance she felt when she woke up this morning, purer, more peaceful, not raging but radiant.
Everything within her screams to give the feeling life, to just say the words, but it’s the one line she won’t let herself cross.
“Kiss me,” she whispers instead. “Please, Cooper. I need you to—”
He doesn’t give her time to finish.
He arches up, closing the distance, and takes her mouth with his. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he holds her in place and grips the back of her head with his other hand, tilting it the way he wants, opening her up. He moves with slow, deliberate purpose, claiming her with his fingers, his lips, his tongue. It’s everything she knew it would be, everything she was afraid of, the sort of kiss that rewrites the timeline. Her life shifts on an axis right here in his arms. What came before no longer matters. What comes after is too painful to bear. She wants to live in this moment forever, live in his touch and his kiss and the feelings he stirs deep inside her soul.
She can’t say how long they stay on the lounger, making out beneath the blanket like a couple of teenagers with no responsibilities, no concerns, no place to be except lost in eachother. Eventually, the cool air turns biting and Cooper carries her inside, keeping her legs wrapped around him, their mouths connected, their bodies close. He moves them seamlessly down the hall to the bedroom, not breaking the kiss, then lowers her down onto the bed with tender ease. Piece by piece, their clothes fall away. Each time, their lips find their way back, two magnets unable to fight the pull. Even after they’re finished and she lies wrapped in his arms, she brings his fingers to her mouth, needing to taste him. When he kisses her shoulder, her eyes grow heavy with absolute repose.
Just before she falls asleep, cocooned against his chest, his mouth beside her ear, she hears four little words that shatter her heart into a million little pieces.
