I was done waiting.
Skin to skin, a mutual hunger exploded between us as we became a tangle of passion, desire, and need. There was no way of knowing where he ended and I began. Nips, licks, kisses, and heated touches pushed us onward—savoring each taste before moving on to the next temptation.
I cried out from the maddening throb when Cooper stopped teasing and drove himself into me. Completely joined, there was no time to catch my breath before he started to move—slowly at first as he introduced me to every blessed inch of his erection. As he picked up the pace, our bodies gradually slamming harder and harder into each other, every strike spiked my arousal until the only thing left to do was to free fall into the maelstrom of pleasure.
“Cooper!” I screamed, my nails scoring his back as he pushed us both over the edge.
“Caylee!” My name sounded so guttural, primal, and I hooked my leg around his, hoping it would keep me from completely shattering.
Collapsing on top of me, his weight comforting after what we’d just shared, I didn’t stop my arms from encircling him and holding him close. There was an intimacy between us now, despite the way we struggled to control our breathing, our sweat slicked bodies still connected. As the last of the trembles faded, we remained silent.
“Thank you,” he finally whispered, his head buried in the crook of my neck.
I didn’t respond, choosing instead to run my fingers up and down his back. I couldn’t have formed a sentence even if I’d tried. No words seemed enough after this.
Sooner or later, however, I knew we’d need to talk. But for now, I was content just to hold him in my arms and sleep.
****
“Good morning.” I was surprised to find Cooper awake and sitting at the edge of the bed. His shoulders were hunched over, his head in his hands, and I tentatively reached out to touch him. Even though we’d slept a few hours, he’d tossed and turned, eventually getting up to go sit in the chair.
“Morning,” he answered, not looking at me.
Scooting up, I kneeled behind him and wrapped my arms gently around him. His muscles tensed slightly, but still, he didn’t move. Something was wrong; his body language all but screamed it.
“Did you sleep okay?” Placing my hand over his chest, I knew it was stupid to ask, but I couldn’t shake the irrational need to fill the void, to reclaim the Cooper who’d been in my bed the night before.
He barked out a laugh. “Define okay.”
He’d yet to touch me, and my heart sank. I hadn’t been sure what to expect this morning, but this wasn’t it. He seemed distant again, hopelessly out of reach, his vulnerability locked up tightly.
I let him go, choosing instead to move around him so I could look into his eyes. They would reveal the truth more than anything he could tell me. “Talk to me, Cooper. What’s wrong?” Taking hold of his hand, I squeezed it before he slowly slipped it out of mine. It was a very clear message—he was withdrawing, putting up barricades between us.
“Don’t. Just don’t.” He scrubbed his face with his hands, letting out an exhausted sigh. “Last night can’t happen again, Caylee. It was a mistake.” His voice was void of any emotion.
“It was?” Surprise filled my words, my heart in my throat. This wasn’t the response I’d envisioned.
“Yes.” Our conversation had been reduced to one word responses.
“Cooper, why are you acting like this?”
He finally turned and faced me, the hardened gaze making me gasp. “What did you expect, Caylee? That we’d wake up snuggling and happy about how one night changed everything? That it would remove the fact that we both come with an insane amount of baggage?”
“No, but I didn’t think you’d be so indifferent.” I willed the tears threatening to fall to stop. There was no way I wanted to show him how much this hurt. If this had been some horribly cruel game to him, I refused to give him the satisfaction of crushing me.
“Don’t be so naive. Last night was nothing more than fulfilling a need.” Cooper looked away, shaking his head.
“You wanted something real.”
“And I got it. The moment’s over.”
“So, you’re not going to even discuss this?” My bruised ego was rapidly transforming into annoyance. If he thought he was the only one here with anything to lose, he was about to get a rude shock.
I’d bitten my tongue and said nothing about his asinine belief that he was somehow responsible for Owen’s death, choosing not to prod at the sleeping bear until he was ready. I’d done my best to give him the space he claimed he needed, even agreeing a little that this—whatever it was—required careful thought instead of rushing in all willy-nilly.
That was until we’d made love.
It hadn’t been sex.
And I wouldn’t let him reduce it down to something so seedy. I wouldn’t become another notch in his belt—another name in his black book of one-night stands.
“What is there to say?” He sounded just as exasperated as I did.
“You keep spouting off all these reasons why it’s imperative to hold me at arm’s length, but I was there last night. You needed me. And not to toot my own horn, but you enjoyed it just as much as I did.” If we were going to have this discussion, I was going to lay all our cards on the table. “Don’t we deserve the chance to see whether we have more than mere chemistry?”
"How do you know I won't hurt you? How can you be sure that, by pursuing this, we won't ruin our friendship?" The earnest reflection in his eyes was heartbreaking. Cooper honestly thought he was damaged goods, unworthy of taking a chance on.
"If you're asking for physical proof, I don't have that for you." Taking his hand and placing it lightly over my heart, I fought hard to hold his gaze. He was closing down, and if I didn't move fast, he'd lock on to those crazy beliefs that to be with me meant he'd eventually hurt me. "If I could, I would show you how I feel. That's how I know."
"So you're basing our entire future, the possibility of this being more than just a one-night occurrence, on your feelings?" I'd never heard him sound so bewildered. It was as if I asked him to do the impossible, something totally outside the realm of his imagination and understanding.
To me, being with him was as easy as breathing. It made sense. It felt right in a hundred ways that still amazed me. When Owen had died, I'd given up on ever feeling this way again—the exhilaration of falling.
"That's where you're wrong, Cooper. I'm not asking you to take this leap of faith with me based on my feelings." When he ducked his head, breaking eye contact, I grabbed hold of his chin, lifting it again. I needed him to see me say this. "We're doing this because of how we both feel."
I let that last statement sink in a little before continuing. "Or are you trying to tell me last night meant nothing?" I wanted to shake him, his stubbornness infuriating. “Answer me, Cooper. At least respect me enough for that.”
“Is that what you think? That my reluctance in giving you what you want is some kind of reflection of how I feel? Do you?”
“Don’t turn this around on me,” I exclaimed, shaking my head. He had me spinning in circles. “Please, just be honest. If you truly don’t want anything to change, if you don’t look at me that way, say it. Say it now so we can move on. If you want nothing from me other than friendship, let me go.” The tears I’d worked so hard at withholding broke free, trailing over my cheeks.
“Let you go? I don’t have you, Caylee. You’re not mine to have.”
“Bullshit. Yes, you heard me. I call bullshit. You might be a lot of things, but right now, you are one big, fat liar!” I didn’t know what shocked him more—me cussing at him or accusing him of being full of crap. “You might not be as open with how you feel, but you’re not some innocent bystander, either. I’m not blind, Cooper. I catch you staring at me. You might think you’re being honorable, that this martyr attitude of yours is commendable, but . . .” I could feel my face reddening, heating up with each passing moment. Judging from his stoic exp
ression, there was no telling whether any of this was reaching him. “Kiss me.”
That shook him. “What?” he stammered, obviously caught off guard by my swift and sudden change in direction.
“You heard me. Kiss me. If all you feel is that brotherly sense of obligation, then consider this topic closed forever. I won’t ever ask again. We’ll chalk this all up to some momentary lapse in judgment, of being swept up in lust. Insanity, even.”
“That’s not going to help the situation, Caylee. If anything, it’ll confuse you more.”
“Oh, I’m not the one confused here. I know exactly what I want, and I’m not afraid to fight for it. Can you say the same?” I straightened my posture, the gauntlet between us thrown, a challenge issued. The next move was his entirely. “Or are you content with being afraid?”
“I’m afraid of nothing,” he answered, hotly. “And I don’t need to defend myself to you.”
“Again, I call bullshit. You do. And you’re very much afraid. Last night terrified you because in order for you to say yes, you’ll need to let go of that protective case you’re smothering yourself with. You can’t be the victim of circumstances and be happy. Right here, right now. Choose.” It was a risk, but I knew I couldn’t keep hanging by this tether connecting us.
When he cleared his throat, I braced myself for him to argue back, to dig his heels in deeper. If he did, we would be over, our brief spark of passion lost. I’d meant what I said—I wouldn’t be diminished to begging. I had more self-respect than that.
“Kiss me,” I whispered. “Do something.”
Again, he sat there, staring down at his hands, an invisible clock ticking away each second.
He’d made his choice. His fear had won.
“I’m going to go grab some breakfast.” I had no idea how I found my voice. Inside, I was dying—having gambled on an outcome that had horribly backfired. Stiffening my spine, I would survive this. It was better this happened now and not before I fell even harder for this man.
Standing, I made it only a few steps away from the bed when he tugged on my hand, pulling me back to him. The look on his face instantly wiped away any trace of heartache and disappointment.
Cooper Hensley was a man of action, and the blistering heat in his gaze told me everything I needed to know.
He was about to give me an answer that would turn me inside out and upside down.
There was no gentleness or hesitation. He’d heard the dare in my ultimatum.
Cooper kissed me like the very fate of the world rested on it.
Threading his fingers in my hair, he took claim to my mouth, erasing the past ten minutes and replacing it with pure, sweet, vulnerable everything. He had something to prove, that he wasn’t the coward I’d insinuated, revealing a glimpse of the Marine I knew he’d been.
Marines didn’t give up so easily. They fought tooth and nail, going beyond their limits to achieve the impossible. While he wasn’t on the battlefield, fighting an enemy, this morning had been his own personal war zone—his head and heart butting heads repeatedly.
With each stroke of his tongue, hope sparked. This wasn’t the kiss of a man who wanted to play it safe.
It was the kiss of a man who knew he was on the brink of something incredible—if he would get out of his own damn way.
“Caylee,” he breathed, slowing pulling away, his hands now cradling my face. “What if—”
I refused to let him finish that thought. “Then we’ll figure it out together.”
“Owen.”
“He’s not here, Cooper. He’s gone. Denying this won’t bring him back.”
“I . . .” And still, his uncertainty remained.
“Please.”
The seriousness that had clouded his expression faded away as he slowly grinned. The softness made my heart melt. “Have I told you lately that you talk too much?”
“Yes,” I chuckled, tension slowly ebbing away. “And you know how to fix that, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Leaning in, he brushed his lips over mine—wrapping his arms around me like if he didn’t, I would disappear. A new sensation descended over us—not the same fiery intensity from before, but breath-stealing all the same. He had nothing to prove now. He’d accepted my challenge and now stood victorious.
“I’m not going anywhere, Cooper,” I murmured, realizing we were finally going to be okay.
And we would be.
The worst was over.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cooper
I was exhausted—like deep in my bones, falling asleep on my feet, unbelievably weary. Not because of the performance or even from the mind-blowing night I’d spent making love to Caylee in our hotel room.
Making love.
The newness of those two words still freaked me out a little.
All those things were manageable. I’d learned years ago just how much pressure and strain my body could take—both from being a Marine and the recovery period afterward when I’d returned home injured. I knew what it meant to push myself and get things done.
No, I was feeling drained from the incessant second-guessing I’d been doing since our talk this morning. The long drive home had been yet another one of comfortable silence, because it was all I could do to focus on the road and process the bomb that had exploded between Caylee and me.
Bomb was probably the worst word to use right now, but it fit. Our relationship had taken a dramatic turn in a different direction—I wasn’t quite convinced it was for the better, though.
If it hadn’t been for the conviction in Caylee’s voice, in how passionately she pled her case, I almost let her walk away, determined to classify the incredible sex we’d enjoyed as a temporary lapse in judgment and mistake.
In my heart, it would never be a mistake, but I didn’t care about me.
It was all about her.
It would always be about her.
Caylee had bared her soul, laying herself vulnerable before me, and who was I to ignore it? I’d lost myself the second she’d opened her arms, holding me tightly as I shook with every repressed emotion inside me.
In that moment, I’d ceased being Cooper, the asshole who’d destroyed her dreams and failed to save my best friend. In his place, stood a new me—a glimmer of the Cooper who still believed in second chances.
That’s what this was. I recognized it for the gift it was. I just hated knowing my shot at happiness came at a price—Owen’s life.
“Hey, girl,” I crooned, dropping my overnight bag by the door and carefully dropping to my knee as Lola bounded over to me, tongue hanging out her mouth. She didn’t like it when I went places without her.
Burying my face into her neck, I peppered kisses over her soft fur, soaking in the love she freely gave.
“You wanna go for a run, sweetheart?” I asked, placing pressure on my sore thigh to stand. I was used to the persistent ache that never went away. It was part of every day life—just as the pain pills I had would take the edge off. Jogging would help stretch those muscles and hopefully loosen them enough so I could get some sleep.
Lola glanced up at me, as if she knew I had something big to share. Damn dog was intuitive. Following closely behind me, I grabbed my gear and headed to my bedroom. The house was still, Bryce, no doubt, at the office wrapping up last minute work.
“So,” I began, stripping off my dirty T-shirt and tossing it into the laundry basket. “I guess you could say something big happened while I was away.” Lola sat patiently, giving me the time I needed to find the right words.
Hell, everything was jumbled up in my head. It would do me good to vocalize it.
Obviously, she wasn’t that tolerant, her loud whine telling me to quit procrastinating and spill the beans. When I ignored her, choosing instead to walk into my closet, she growled even louder.
“I slept with Caylee,” I blurted out, heat blasting over my skin at the confession. “I slept with her, and I’m going to keep sleeping with her.”
/>
Wait, that came out all wrong.
“I’m still not quite sure when it changed between us, or how we ended up in my hotel room together. ” I crashed onto the bed and let out a loud sigh. “I mean, I know how we did . . .” It was this next part that proved harder to admit.
Lola rested her head on my knee, and I scratched behind her ears. With a look of complete faith, she gave me the strength to continue.
“We’re dating. Like boyfriend and girlfriend.” Man, that felt foreign to say. “I’m still not sure that’s a good idea, but we’re going to give it a try—whatever that means.” Rubbing my hand over my face, I tested the words on my tongue again. “We’re dating.”
I waited for the precise second guilt would come crashing down, but this time, there was nothing. No yelling at myself for wanting what I couldn’t have, of reminding myself that somehow being with Caylee disgraced the memory of Owen.
When I couldn’t muster up those old familiar emotions, I opened my bedside table and pulled out the only thing I’d kept from that last patrol.
Owen’s nameplate, the Velcro on the back still good.
I’d ripped it off his uniform before his body had been taken away, steps needing to be taken so he was prepared to travel home one last time. I still wasn’t sure why I’d done it—only that the need to have it was overwhelming.
Actually, that was another lie.
Seemed all I did lately was lie to myself.
I’d taken it so I would never forget how it had been my fault. Every morning when I saw it and every night I took it out to brush my fingers over his embroidered name, I remembered each painful detail—the sound of gunfire, the scent of his spilled blood, how he looked as his life drained from his eyes.
I hadn’t kept it as a tool to help me heal.
I hadn’t believed myself worthy of such a miracle. Forgiveness was a dirty word, and I’d spent years defending my guilt. No one had ever been able to convince me it was simply a cruel result of war.
Until Caylee.
She was my miracle, one I scarcely allowed myself to accept.
Bittersweet Melody Page 26