It had grown late, and Willow insisted that Lily, who was clearly tired because she rubbed her eyes so often, stop waiting by the door for Coop. Lily fussed, unwilling to go to bed.
Willow brought the radio into her room. They couldn’t get many stations at night, but she spun the dial until she picked up a Tejano station from across the border, one with mariachi music and little talking. It seemed to satisfy Lily enough to allow Willow to read two children’s books. Worn books she’d bought long ago at the grocery store, although Tate thought books were frivolous, unimportant. Willow forced her mind off Tate. It did no good to remember. In fact, it made her wonder if, as Coop had intimated, she’d been cowardly not to leave Tate when Lily was first diagnosed. And it was true that by then Tate had destroyed any feelings she’d ever held for him. She’d made so many mistakes when it came to Tate. Her biggest had been to marry him, thinking she’d grow to love him. She’d done them both a disservice. But when they were kids, Tate had been fun. He used to slip funny cards and small gifts into her book bag. During high school he walked her home when Coop wasn’t around. In college she was involved with Coop, but Tate was always around in the background. After Coop went off to rodeo, Tate had consoled her, and he was particularly kind to her and her mother at the time of her dad’s death. She’d mistaken his attention for love, she realized with a sigh, bending to kiss Lily’s forehead before starting another story.
Midway through The Tale of Peter Rabbit, Lily fell asleep. Willow set the book aside, turned down the radio and shut off the light. A princess night-light her mother had sent for Lilybelle’s first birthday glowed rosily along the baseboard. It was a shame her mother came up with one excuse or another not to visit. Although it took a while, Willow eventually figured out that her mother preferred to be a grandmother from afar. Willow walked out of Lily’s room, leaving the door ajar.
Should she put Coop’s plate on the porch, store the remaining meat loaf and go to bed? Willow couldn’t resist going to the window for one last check to see if Coop had gone while she was reading to Lily. The Dodge Ram hadn’t moved, nor had he attached the horse trailer yet. Relief ricocheted through her, even though it probably just meant that he was too tired to hit the road tonight. With luck she’d catch a final glimpse of him in the morning, although watching him drive off would hurt.
As she removed his still-warm plate from the oven, she heard heavy boot treads on the front porch. Willow froze. Her stomach churned, then her heart leaped at his sharp rap on the front door.
Unsure what to do, she set the plate on the counter. The knocking grew insistent, forcing her to hurry. The old living-room wall clock ticked loudly, although her heartbeat seemed, to her own ears, even louder. “I’m coming,” she called, keeping her voice down. “Stop pounding, or you’ll wake Lily,” she admonished as she flipped on the porch light and opened the door.
She held her breath as Coop braced a hand on the casing. He must have bathed in the pond, she decided, since his hair was damp and spiky. He wore different clothes than he’d had on when she confronted him earlier. A whiff of soap wafted through the screen, tickling Willow’s nose. The picture he presented including his crooked smile, evoked an image of Coop naked in her pond. Her stomach tensed as Willow harked back to happier days when they could hardly keep their hands off each other. Days when Coop knew and loved every inch of her body. Steeling herself against those memories and the longings they brought, Willow gripped the door tightly, reminding herself that she couldn’t afford to think only about her needs and desires.
“It’s late, Cooper. Lily’s in bed asleep,” she said in a hushed voice. “If you’ve come to say goodbye, there’s no need. I thought we handled that earlier. If you want a meal, I’ll bring it out.”
Coop jerked open the screen and stuck the toe of his boot firmly in the crack to prevent Willow from slamming the door in his face. “I had all afternoon to think about your carefully prepared orders giving me my walking papers, Willow. There was a time I was sure we’d always be together, you and I. All those days and nights we talked about our future, it never crossed my mind that I’d ever lose you.”
“Coop.” Willow sagged against the door, pressing it hard against his foot. “We both made choices that took us in different directions. What’s done is done. We can’t go back.”
“Are you telling me you never think about the plans we made together?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Those plans never included you running off to rodeo. The first time you said a word to me about it was two weeks before your college graduation. That was a deal-breaker for me, Coop, and I never hid my feelings.”
“I know, but my going off to rodeo had nothing to do with you—with us. I did it to piss off Sullivan as much as anything. That sounds immature…but my brother still thought he could manage my life. Going on the circuit gave me breathing room. And you were planning to attend summer school. I figured you’d have your degree and be waiting by the time I came back. I didn’t intend to stay on the circuit so long.”
“You never asked me to wait! You sold your horses and took off for Mesquite. Sullivan’s the one who told me where you’d gone when I called you at the Triple D to let you know my dad started having seizures, and Mom asked me to drop out of college to stay with him.”
“When was that? Sully never said a word about you calling me.”
“Yes, well, he seemed to think I’d given you an ultimatum—marry me or go rodeo. I felt you didn’t care what I thought, Coop, and you certainly never asked me to wait.”
“Would you have waited if I had asked?”
Willow lifted her eyes and met his dark, steady gaze. Thunder rolled overhead. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I loved you, Coop, but it ripped my heart out to know you could be injured like my dad. I tried telling Sully that later, when he accused me of not loving you enough to keep you from going off. He all but called me selfish. In hindsight, maybe I was. Your leaving practically destroyed my world.”
“What do you think happened to mine the day I heard you’d married Tate?”
She shook her head. “I hadn’t heard from you once after you left. You didn’t even call when my dad died.”
“I was at the finals. But I sent flowers. By then I’d heard you were seeing Tate, and that made me crazy.”
“We weren’t exactly seeing each other. He turned up everywhere I went.” She released the door and gestured with one hand. “What’s the point of rehashing all of that now? You slept your way through a dozen rodeo groupies before I married Tate. Don’t deny it—your exploits made the covers of rodeo trade magazines.”
Coop clenched the hand still braced on the door. “None of the women I hooked up with for a night meant anything to me, Willow. I never knew why until it hit me today. I measured all those women against you. You’re who I dreamed about, Willow.”
“You also dreamed of becoming a rodeo champ. God, Coop, how many times did you watch me feed Dad, who was paralyzed from the neck down? I knew only too well where rodeo dreams led.”
“You’re wrong. I never dreamed of being a champion bronc rider. It’s like I just told you. I thought you and I were solid, and I had to get away because Sully tried to take Dad’s place and he wasn’t Dad.” He paused. “I’m sorry, but I assumed you understood that.” Coop straightened and spread his hands, forcing Willow’s gaze to travel the length of his long, lean body. She glanced away, but the pressure she applied to the door eased, and Coop pushed his way into the house with little resistance.
“I promise you I’m done with rodeo now. I have a suitcase filled with championship buckles, but they make cold bedmates.”
“Is that what’s on your mind tonight? Getting into my bed? I’ve grown up, Cooper. I’m no longer starry-eyed. Life’s taught me some valuable lessons when it comes to priorities. You left Hondo five years ago, just walked away. I don’t know what you expect now, Coop. And don’t look at me like that.” The intensity in his eyes made her knees go weak, but Willow
raised her chin, standing her ground.
He touched her chin, running his thumb over the slight cleft. “I let you go once. I’m not inclined to walk away again. You say you want me to leave, but your eyes tell a different story. We have a lot of history, Willow. Most of it was good.”
“Some of it wasn’t,” she said, jerking her chin away from his hypnotizing touch.
“I can’t undo what I did in my youth.”
“Would you change it if you could? If we could go back, Cooper, would you not go off to ride bucking horses?”
“I can’t say that. Even if I’d stayed at the Triple D back then, my life would have revolved around raising horses, and green horses buck. If you want to know if I have regrets about how I handled myself with you and Sullivan, that answer is yes. I shouldn’t have left you without doing a better job of explaining my reasons. And I regret blowing my winnings when I could’ve saved so I’d have some money to show for those years. But maybe things happen for a reason. If I’d had cash to, say, invest in breeding stock, I wouldn’t have ended up here asking you for a second chance. Will you give me one, Willow?” He stepped closer, holding her gaze as thunder rumbled overhead and the first raindrops blew in the door.
Cooper had never lacked charisma, Willow thought. He drew her. His energy. His heat. The security he offered. Long-term security was something Willow hadn’t let herself want for a long time. But while she analyzed Coop’s motives, he closed the gap between them, kicked shut the door and took her in his arms.
He mumbled words that sounded like I love you. She couldn’t be sure if he’d said it or if she’d imagined he had. Either way, the past suddenly seemed to melt away. There was only the here and now. And it wasn’t so difficult to believe he’d spoken the words. Coop had always said he’d loved her; deep down she’d always loved him. She set her hands on either side of his neck where his pulse beat fast. “You never left my heart,” she murmured, pressing lightly against him. “You’re still there.”
*
HER TOUCH WAS WARM and honest, but Coop didn’t want to move too quickly. He wanted to be sure she was giving him the green light. This was happening fast even though the time and distance that had once separated them seemed to disappear. In the muted lamplight spilling into the living room from the kitchen it was as if Willow hadn’t changed. The look of her, the feel of her soft skin under his fingertips as he stroked her neck, sent Coop reeling back in time.
His mouth covered hers. First, like a whisper, then demanding—and receiving—a response. Coop’s thumbs skimmed her cheeks with restless abandon, as his hands tilted up her face.
Willow wanted him with a never-forgotten hunger. It felt right, natural, to pick up where they’d left off five years ago. In a rush of hot kisses and hastily discarded clothing, they tumbled together on her living-room carpet.
Coop hauled in a deep breath. He braced himself on hands and knees and planted wet, openmouthed kisses on her skin, moving from the pulse that beat frantically in her neck to her navel. There he traced her belly button with his tongue.
She shook so hard she fell back and let Coop take the lead. Their initial coupling, out of necessity, was hurried. As the old familiar heat enveloped Willow, she opened for him.
Coop gave, too, and Willow took. It’d been so long since she’d felt anything toward a man but duty. And after Lily’s birth, her love life ended because Tate started coming home so drunk he passed out. She sensed that Tate had used sex to punish her during the early days of their marriage; there’d been little pleasure and less love.
Now, with Cooper, Willow felt cherished. She felt equal. Powerful. Coop had been her first teacher, her first lover. She was glad she hadn’t forgotten how to participate. How to be a giving partner. Kissing him, she slid her hands down his leanly muscled waist to his tight butt and back up his narrow hips. “It’s not fair that your skin feels like silk.” She sighed, nipping his earlobe.
Coop groaned and drove deeper.
Willow cried out and Coop reared back. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.
She shook her head wildly and urged him on until a series of spasms rocked her from head to toe.
Rolling over, Cooper flopped both arms out to his sides. “I feel like a jellyfish,” he said. Edging up on his elbows, he asked again if she was okay.
“If a rag doll can be fine, I’m great. I shouldn’t add to your ego, but the word cataclysmic comes to mind,” she said, ducking her head to press tiny kisses to his chest.
He laughed and Willow felt the rumble in her ear.
“You can’t be comfortable, Coop. Why don’t we move to my bedroom where there’s a soft bed?”
Coop ran his hands up and down her bare back, but he didn’t respond to her question.
Willow lifted her head and in the faint light noticed him frowning. “Is something wrong?” she asked, scraping back her long hair, which had come loose during their lovemaking.
“I vote for the couch,” he said. “It’s closer.”
“And lumpy.”
“Your bedroom is next to Lily’s. We don’t want to risk waking her.”
Willow was beginning to get the feeling that Coop was protesting too much. She wriggled, trying to get off him, but he clamped his arms around her waist to hold her in place.
“The truth is, Willow, I don’t want to make love to you in Tate’s old bed. If you want my opinion, we did fine right here. Or I’m game for the couch.”
She didn’t like the fact that he was still hung up on Tate. Especially now, after the way she’d given him all she had to give, which was much more than she’d ever shared with her husband. The glow began to fade. Would Tate always come between them?
Coop stopped her retreat with kisses and caresses. His onslaught this time was more deliberate, more languid.
Willow shivered when he kissed his way up her neck and coaxed a response from her lips. She loved kissing Coop. She always had. To finally have him where she could touch him and be touched by him made her a prisoner of her own desire.
Their second round of lovemaking was slower but more thorough. When it was over, Willow rested her head on Coop’s broad shoulder. “This time was more than cataclysmic,” she murmured. “I feel like the whole house just shook.”
Cooper traced the narrow bridge of her nose. “It did, sweetheart. That’s serious thunder. The storm just broke.” As he spoke, lightning flashed outside and lit the room through the uncurtained front window.
Willow sat up and reached for her shirt and shorts. “That was close. The last storm scattered my herd. They smashed down the fence in about five places. It took a week to find them all.” She’d turned her back to him, but had her clothes on by the time Coop sat up and reached for his pants.
“I’m pretty sure the fence will hold this time, Willow. My guess is they’ll take shelter under the trees. It’s where most of them went during the branding.” He was much less self-conscious about dressing in front of her. He didn’t put on his boots or shirt, but smiled and took her in his arms for another kiss. “I love the energy that comes with a storm, especially the first storm to hit after a drought. Let’s go sit on the porch and watch Mother Nature’s handiwork, shall we?”
“I’d like that,” she said shyly. “You go on out. I want to check on Lily.”
“Is she likely to wake up and be scared by the thunder?” he asked as another long, loud roll rattled the windows in the house. “If so, we can stay here, or go sit by her bed.” He trailed a hand down Willow’s arm and linked their fingers.
That small act of thoughtfulness released a gush of warmth inside her. Any sign of caring had been missing for all of her marriage. It endeared Coop to her as nothing else could. Rising on tiptoes, Willow kissed him. “Thank you for your concern, Cooper. Lily generally sleeps like a log. But I always check on her several times a night. She sleeps. I’m the insomniac.”
“Hmm.” Coop helped himself to several more kisses before he drew back, patted her backside and let her go. “
I can think of several ways to spend a wakeful night,” he said. “Or we can work on finding new ways,” he promised with a wink. “After the storm passes.”
She shooed him toward the door.
As soon as she emerged from the house they cuddled together on the porch and watched the fury of the rain, thunder and lightning.
Willow felt safe cradled in Coop’s arms. She told him that and added, “I didn’t realize how off-kilter I’ve felt the past several years. I slept with one eye open, worrying about Tate’s erratic moods. After his death I worried about danger from other people. I slept poorly any time I had hired cowboys on the property. I had to discourage a couple of them with one of Tate’s old shotguns. It only dawned on me, Coop, how much better I’ve slept since you showed up.”
“And yet you were ready to toss me off the ranch.”
She released a heavy sigh. “Because I know you can’t stay, Coop. You haven’t resolved anything with your brother. And there’s still the Triple D. It’s partly yours.”
The arm around her tightened. “Yes, but you’re going to sell your herd and your ranch. Then you’ll be free to go north. Any news from your Realtor, by the way? Has he received any inquiries since the day we saw someone giving the place a once-over?”
“I left him a message—I haven’t heard back. But then I’ve been outside painting, and maybe missed a call. I don’t have an answering machine.”
Coop traced her lips with one finger. “If you don’t hear by the time the trim’s finished and I get the herd to market, we’ll drive into town and make sure he’s actively working for you. Hey, this storm’s petering out. What do you say we go back inside and take up on the couch where we left off on the floor?”
“Coop,” she said, head bent. “You are way more open about sex than I am.”
The Maverick Returns Page 11