The Off Limits Rule: A Romantic Comedy (It Happened in Nashville Book 1)

by Sarah Adams

  Neither Lucy nor I expected that—not after three weeks of silence and then not hearing from him once over the past few hours of Levi’s surgery. Therefore, we both stay quiet, stunned.

  Drew runs the free hand that’s not clutching enough balloons to carry a small child into space through his hair. He then takes three big, fast steps forward, shoves the balloons into my hands, and grabs Lucy to pull her in for a bear hug. “I’m so sorry, Luce. I’ve been the worst.”

  “I’m glad you can see it too,” she says, stiff in his arms, not yet ready to reciprocate the hug. He doesn’t seem to care, though, just holds her tighter.

  “I would have been here sooner, but my phone was in my locker at the hospital while I was attending a birth, and then when I was finally able to check it, it was dead. I didn’t have my charger, so I didn’t realize Levi was in the hospital until I showed up at home to your friend I’ve never met before ready to fight me in my driveway.”

  Lucy pulls away to look at him. “Jessie?”

  “Yeah. She’s scary. And this was definitely the first time I’ve ever had a pregnant woman threaten to use her baby bump as a weapon.”

  “Oh my gosh. I love her.”

  His face skews up. “Really? Can’t say I’m a big fan. And she seemed to really hate me.”

  Lucy laughs. “Yeah, she does not like you.”

  “That was definitely communicated.” He pauses for a moment, and his face turns serious. “But she was right about a few things. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” I say, standing and inserting myself into the conversation. I can see that Lucy is wavering and her arms are itching to give in and hug Drew, but I’m not there yet. He pissed me off, treating Lucy the way he did these past few weeks.

  Drew lets go of Lucy and turns to face me. He looks remorseful, but I’m ready to fight him anyway. We’re about the same height, so it would be a fair match. “I know. I’m sorry. It started with good intentions of protecting Lucy and Levi, and then…” He shrugs like he’s embarrassed. “I might have gotten my pride hurt a little that you went behind my back. In the beginning, I really was worried that you didn’t have it in you to commit, but then I think I started to worry more about what would happen if you guys split. Then, admittedly—and thanks to Jessie for so violently pointing this out to me—I don’t think I liked the idea of losing my wingman to my sister. No offense, Luce.”

  “Lots of offense taken,” Lucy says in a dry tone that makes my lips twitch.

  I stare at Drew for a heavy minute, because my feelings are twisting together. Anger is fusing with understanding, and the large part of me that hates confrontation is just ready to move on. If he sees the error in his ways, I’m good with that. Sometimes men need time to process, so I’ll let it go. “Cool,” I say, reaching out to do a bro-high-five-hug thing. Our hands clasp, and our shoulders bump against each other, and we’re good now. Water under the bridge.

  We pull apart to find Lucy standing directly beside us, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “That’s it?! After everything we’ve all gone through, y’all are just going to do whatever that was and move on?”

  Drew and I both look at each other and shrug. “Yeah,” we say in unison.

  Lucy is not okay with this. She folds her arms and stomps a foot defiantly. It makes me smile and want to do something stupid like pick her up and spin her around. Drew moves first, though. Lucy must know what’s coming, because her eyes widen, and she turns like she’s going to bolt out of this room, but he catches her first, bending down to wrap his arms around her thighs and flipping her upside down. Some change falls out of her pockets and clangs against the ground.

  “UGH. Put me down, you big dummy! You’re such a jerk. I bet you’re going to steal my change next and run out of here.”

  “Say you forgive me,” Drew says with a big grin.

  The tips of Lucy’s hair are brushing against the floor, and she folds her arms. She’ll stay like this all day if she has to. She will pass out in this pose before she gives in to him. “Never. You said mean things to me.”

  “I’m sorry, Lucy. Really. It was a bad move, and I won’t do it again. And I don’t think you’re making a bad decision with your life. I wish I had never said that. But I’m so tired of fighting with you. I miss talking to you.”

  “What happens when you tell me not to eat the pie on Thanksgiving and I do anyway? Are you going to freeze me out again?”

  “No,” he says, indulging her and speaking in his most serious tone. “I’ll respect your decision to eat the pie.”

  Her arms soften a smidge—maybe because she’s about to pass out. “And you need to apologize to Cooper for insinuating that he’s a sleazeball, incapable of becoming a family man.”

  Drew’s eyes rise to mine, and I raise my eyebrows like a snooty teenage girl waiting for her due apology. “My darling Coop, please accept my sincerest apologies for doubting your character. I will never do it again. But also…if you leave my sister, I will beat you into dust.”

  “Fair. I accept.”

  Drew looks back down to Lucy. “There, see? We made up. Will you forgive me now, Luce?”

  “Yes. But only on the condition that you owe me ten nights of babysitting.”

  He chuckles and turns his eyes to Levi. “Deal. I’ve missed that kid. Is he mad at me?”

  “Nah,” I say, all too happy to rub a little salt in his wound. “He’s had me.”

  Drew’s eyes slowly cut to mine, but there’s humor there underneath the tough facade—also maybe a little gratitude. He gives me a silent nod, and that small gesture feels loaded with more meaning than any words ever could. I nod back. It’s settled. I’m officially welcomed into the family.

  “Hey, guys,” Lucy says from her inverted position. “Is the room starting to get darker to you?”

  Lucy doesn’t pass out, but she does wobble adorably when Drew sets her back on her feet. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, pull her back against my chest, and kiss the side of her face. It feels good to be openly affectionate like this in front of Drew. His gaze definitely still hitches on us for a fraction of a second, but he forces a smile and turns to Levi.

  He takes my seat beside the bed and takes a shift sitting with the kid so I can take Lucy to get some food. She never ate dinner, and I know she’s starving but unwilling to leave Levi. Now, with Drew here, she finally lets me guide her out of the room. In the cafeteria, we find Lucy’s parents and end up spending a whole hour laughing and getting to know each other over Jell-O and nasty, plastic-wrapped turkey sandwiches because the kitchen was closed.

  Despite the less-than-mediocre food, it’s good. Her parents are hilarious, just like her and Drew. Claire takes my hand from across the table and thanks me for being so good to her daughter—which makes Lucy’s cheeks turn my favorite shade of raspberry sorbet. Then, her dad leans back so Claire can’t see him and mouths, “Respect my daughter,” which is terrifying on so many levels, and I will definitely have a nightmare about it tonight.

  After the frightening threat, Drew calls to say Levi is awake and asking for us. Us—as in, me and Lucy. It’s the craziest thing, going from a life of bachelorhood and late-night drinking to having a four-year-old in a tiny hospital gown wrap me around his finger and ask me to sing him “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” eighteen times and me doing it gladly.

  Around midnight, I look across the hospital bed where Levi is asleep holding my hand, to Lucy who is passed out, legs curled up in the seat with her, wearing one of my sweatshirts that pretty much swallows her whole. It’s a sight I don’t think I’ll ever forget and certainly never want to.

  It’s been a few days since Levi’s surgery, and thankfully, he is recovering quickly. I have barely left the house since we got home from the hospital, but since he’s feeling more like himself today, I left him with Drew and headed for Cooper’s house to finally put together his new furniture.

  “Hellooooo,” I call out as I struggle to sho
ve the front door open. It feels like a sumo wrestler is on the other side, and when I get through, I see why.

  My eyes widen at the enormous wall of brown furniture boxes piled up all around the entryway, and I can’t help but feel a little guilty at the sight. Did I really order this much stuff for him? Felt like a lot less in the online cart.

  “LUCY!” Cooper yells from somewhere past the cardboard tower. “You got some ‘splainin to do!”

  Ladies and gentlemen, if you are looking for Cooper’s fault, I have found it. He uses this I Love Lucy joke more times than anyone ever should. I forgive him his faults, though, when his handsome faces peeks up over the row of boxes and I can tell he’s not wearing a shirt. Suddenly, I’m in a ninja warrior competition and scaling these boxes because I WILL WIN MY PRIZE.

  I crest the top of the tower and spot Cooper on the other side. He’s wearing black gym shorts slung low on his waist and no shirt. He is sort of a nudist, I’ve learned. If he’s home, that shirt is coming off.

  He takes my hand and yanks me down off the box wall, and I land in his arms. He smiles down at me, nose to nose, and then his eyes drop to my mouth. That—the moment where his gaze settles on exactly what it is he’s after—never fails to make my stomach leap. The freshly showered, damp-hair look he has going on doesn’t hurt either.

  “Hi,” he says in this low, delicious, grumbly way. “How long do we have until you have to get back?”

  “A few hours.”

  He lifts a brow, his smile turning devilish. Maybe Jessie was right about how little furniture we would actually end up putting together. “Hmm, well, we’re going to have to get to it, because we have a lot of work to do in the bedroom.”

  Cooper bends down and hauls me up over his shoulder like a brute. I love it. I especially love the view of his back as he carries me through his living room and down the hall. My stomach is buzzing with nerves, and I’m anticipating a lovely evening—until Cooper finally sets me down and makes a sweeping gesture with his hands toward the frightening number of boxes stacked against the walls in his room.

  That’s when I remember the extent of my late-night shopping spree. Cooper told me he was ready to commit to furniture but wanted me to pick it all out for him. The gesture was not lost on me since he once told me he would wait until he’d found the woman he wanted to marry to make all the big purchases, and oh boy did I! I don’t think he meant to buy everything for the house at once, but that’s on him. He should have been more specific.

  I make a hissing sound and turn my eyes to a glowering Cooper. He folds his arms, which is really unfair of him because it makes his biceps bulge out and the sexy veins in his forearms pop, but judging by the look on his face, it would be ill-advised to touch him at this moment. Or maybe it would be the perfect time to touch him?

  “So…just to be clear, you actually meant we have work to do back here?” I say, pouting.

  He shakes his head slowly like a disappointed parent. “I thought you were ordering a few things for each room.”

  “Well, it started that way.” I take a step away from his grumpy look and bump into a box. “But then I saw a lamp I thought you would really love and would go great with your wall color…which then reminded me that you didn’t have a bedside table, so naturally I had to order you one.”

  “Naturally. So where does the…” He trails off to read the tall slender box in front of him. “…faux fiddle leaf fig with matte blush planter come into play?”

  I widen my eyes like he’s absolutely stupid for not seeing the answer on his own. “Once we get the new drapes hung on this side and put your new dresser over here, that corner would have looked ridiculously bare.” I put my hands on my hips and lift a brow. “You don’t want to look ridiculous, do you?”

  “Tell me now, woman—are you a compulsive shopper?”

  “No, but I just couldn’t stand how empty it was in here—and I already know you make tons of money, so you’re not hurting from the extra expense. I hated the thought of you living in here all by yourself with no furniture or things to make it a home. Don’t be mad. Are you mad?”

  He takes a step closer. And then another. His hands drop to his sides, and his head tilts as he takes yet another step forward. His hand flexes like the sexiest scene ever filmed (aka the Darcy hand flex from Pride and Prejudice…you know what I’m talking about) and the room heats to 80 million degrees. My skin is ready to melt off my bones from the intense look he’s giving me.

  When he gets close enough to touch me, he stops. I can feel the heat rolling off his chiseled chest like waves, and I imagine if I were wearing thermal goggles, he would look like a ball of fire. I want to place my hand in the center of his abs and burn.

  He leans down, and I tilt my head back, exposing my neck, ready for my favorite trail of kisses. Instead, his lips brush, soft as a paintbrush, all the way up my neck, barely touching, so he can whisper against my ear, “Until all of this is put together, no kisses for you, Miss Shopaholic.”

  My mouth falls open as I watch Cooper’s retreating back. “Ugh! You’re kidding, right?”

  He smirks at me over his shoulder. “Afraid not. You order, you assemble. Get to work, Bob the Builder.”

  “But where are you going?”

  “To put together my new dining room table and EIGHT matching chairs for my imaginary giant family.”

  “WHICH YOU LOVE, RIGHT?!” I yell because stupid Cooper has already left the room.

  Frankly, I think he’s being ungrateful of my very thorough design services. Then again, as I look around the room and sigh, this does look like a lot.

  An hour later, Cooper comes to find me. I’m lying on the floor, holding my phone above my head, watching TikTok dance videos, and when I spot him, I chuck it across the room and pretend to be tinkering with something under the bed. “AH—there we go. Much better.”

  He stands above me. “Whatcha doing?”

  I slap my hand against the bottom of the bed. “Oh, you know, just tending to a few other things while I’m here. I noticed your bed screws were loose, so I thought I’d give them a little tightening.”

  “With your bare hands?”

  “Don’t be jealous of my strength.”

  He glances around the room. “Lucy, it’s been an hour.”

  “And?”

  “You put together the lamp.”

  “It was difficult to screw the shade on.”

  He bends down to grab my ankles and slide me out from under the bed, a knowing smirk on his mouth. “You’re not going to put anything together, are you?”

  “No, I am! I really am. I just got distracted.” I crack my knuckles. “I’m ready to get down to business so I can get those kisses. Here, hand me a Jerry.”

  Cooper’s eyebrows rise quizzically. “A what?”

  “A Jerry. You know, one of those little doohickeys they include with the furniture so you can tighten the bolts up.” I’m miming the gesture of screwing something in, and Cooper is looking at me, dumbfounded. How is he not getting this? “You know, it’s a right angle. It looks like a flat star on each end?”

  Cooper rubs the back of his neck, and I have made a POOR choice not getting this stuff built because, honestly, he looks so good it hurts. Dang those distracting TikTok videos. “Do you…do you mean an Allen key?”

  “What’s an Allen key?”

  He bends down (hello, fantastic backside) and then picks up the exact tool I was talking about. “Allen key.”

  “Ohhh, is that what it is? Yeah, I call it a Jerry.”

  He frowns, looking torn between amusement and horror. “Why?”

  I shrug. “Because I can never remember Allen.”

  “But you can remember the name Jerry?”

  “Mmhmm. Why are you laughing like that? Seriously…do you really need to double over so dramatically? Oh, you’re going to slap your thigh now. Okay, yeah, laugh it up, Mister Chuckles. Lucy doesn’t know the names of tools because she’s not Mrs. Fixit! Hardie-har-har.”
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  Cooper finally controls his laughter enough to come over to me and yank me up off the ground. His arms go around me, and he hugs me tightly to him. “Lucy, you’re the craziest person I’ve ever met.”

  “Rude.”

  “I love you.” He cups my jaw, and his lips crash into mine. Just like that, he caved on his own no-kissing rule. I knew this would happen, which is why I didn’t take the furniture assembling too seriously. Cooper always tries to withhold physical affection from me when he wants me to do something, and it never works. It does the opposite. It makes him twice as passionate when he gives in, but I’m impressed, because an hour is definitely the longest he’s made it.

  “Would you say yes if I asked you to marry me right now?” he says in a gruff voice with an intoxicating smile.

  I freeze and meet his gaze. “Are you asking me?”

  “Maybe. Give me your answer first and I’ll tell you.” The way his eyes are twinkling almost has me complying. It’s very difficult to not give in to Cooper right away.

  “That’s not how it works.”

  “Allen keys are also not called Jerrys.”

  “That’s different…those are tools. This is a proposal we are talking about!”

  He grins and drops his hands away. “We don’t do anything the normal way. Tell me—would you say yes?”

  My breath constricts in my lungs, but I have to be honest with him. “I don’t think I could. We’ve only been seeing each other for, like, two months.” I say it casually like I don’t know exactly how long and I’m not the kind of girl to tick off every single day on the calendar and mentally celebrate things like week-iversaries. “And some of those days, we weren’t even official! Imagine what people would say if we got married. They would think we’re insane. You haven’t even known me long enough to really decide if you want to spend every day for the rest of your life with me. We need more time together so you can realize I stick my stray hairs to the side of the shower wall so they don’t go down the drain and then forget to clean them off.”

  It’s terrible that I’m not saying yes right away, especially given the fact that his last relationship ended because his girlfriend didn’t want to marry him. But it’s not that I don’t want to marry him—it’s that I’m scared to.