by Kage, Linda
“You just…you left me in awe,” Cooper finished. “You were perfect.”
“I got pregnant at eighteen.” Her voice was brittle and dry. “Then before I’d even found out about that, I got drunk and cheated on my boyfriend, kissing his archenemy. Trust me, I was anything but perfect.”
Cooper shrugged. “So you made a mistake.” When she sniffed, he grinned wryly and amended, “A couple mistakes. You were young. It happens. You were still perfect to me.”
“Uh huh, and what if the tables had been turned?” she pressed. “What if I’d been your girlfriend but got drunk and kissed Travis? Would you still be so forgiving now?”
He opened his mouth, looking blank. Then he shut it. “Okay, that would’ve been harder to swallow,” he admitted. “But I would’ve gotten over it. Yes. Because you would’ve been my girlfriend.” Something stirred in her stomach as he continued to watch her. Then he went and whispered, “Mine.”
She glanced down at the beer in her hand, feeling hot and bothered by simply sitting there listening to him. Cooper had been the kindest, sweetest, cutest boy in her class. If she hadn’t thought he was more interested in Emma Leigh than he was in her, she probably would’ve let herself grow a crush on him in return. But telling him that now felt wrong as well. She should probably remain silent, but before she knew exactly what was happening, a confession spilled from her mouth.
“I had dreams about it. Afterward.” When she dared to glance his way, she saw he didn’t comprehend, so she added, “About the night of Bose Eden’s party. I dreamed about the parts I remembered, about kissing you and feeling you through your jeans.”
Cooper stared at her steadily. “Me too.”
Unable to tear her gaze away, she rasped, “Sometimes, I still do.” Like last night.
His eyelashes fluttered closed and then open. “Yeah.”
Her blood surged a little faster through her veins. Her breathing grew choppier in her chest. “Do you ever wonder…” She spoke so quietly he leaned forward to hear her. Licking her lips, she spoke up. “Do you ever wonder what would’ve happened if…if you hadn’t stopped me?”
Cooper sucked in a loud breath. “Jesus, Jo Ellen. What’re you doing to me?”
Guilty, she focused on her sandaled feet, her pink toenail polish totally out of place among the dirt and rock shoreline. She didn’t belong here either; it’d only land her into trouble, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “I’ve never been this turned on while fishing before.”
Cooper laughed, then groaned. “Don’t say that.”
“I’m sorry,” she immediately apologized, flushing, then glanced over her shoulder at him. “I just…I find I keep saying things to you I would never say to anyone.”
He studied her, his brown eyes piercing and intent. “But you mean them?”
She couldn’t immediately speak, so she dipped her head down, then back up. “Every word.”
A heavy breath shuddered from his lungs. Glancing across the water toward Emma Leigh and Branson, he pitched his voice low. “If I asked you to follow me now and go somewhere private, would you do it?”
She didn’t even have to think the question through, though she had to wait to gain the nerve before whispering, “Yes.”
His Adam’s apple jerked and his gaze grew fierce. “Jo Ellen,” he started, his voice so hoarse she could barely hear him. “Would you—”
A jubilant cry across the lake broke into his question.
Jo Ellen was never so disappointed yet relieved to see her brother-in-law hop up and down, exclaiming he had a fish hooked on his line while Emma Leigh tried to calm him down enough to talk him through the process of reeling it in.
Forgetting his conversation with Jo Ellen, Cooper sprang to his feet and raced around the edge of the bank to assist the new fisherman.
Chapter Fourteen
By the time they stopped fishing for the day, dusk coated the countryside. At final tally, Jo Ellen had caught two fish and the married couple had snagged five between the two of them—Emma Leigh being kind enough to let an over-zealous Branson reel in the crappie that found her bait. Cooper had been so busy helping everyone else that he’d missed the one time anything had nibbled at his line. He came away from the evening empty handed.
As their party made its way back to the house, Emma Leigh was in a rush to get home to her baby. “We’ll see you,” she called to Jo Ellen as she shut her door and Bran started their car.
Jo Ellen waved them off but dallied by her Kia, loath to climb in it just yet. Entranced by the sunset, she wandered a few feet to the nearby white picket fence lining Cooper’s driveway. Crossing her arms over the top rail, she breathed in the summer air, taking in the scent of sweet corn and wildflowers.
The taillights of Em’s car glowed red in the distance before they disappeared and still, Jo Ellen lingered, exhaling a silent sigh of relief and excitement and fear when Cooper joined her at the fence.
Finally. They were alone.
Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She knew she should go; she could never put enough faith in him to trust him with her heart. But the temptation to draw closer to him was too heady to resist.
Maybe…
Maybe a short meaningless fling would do her good, maybe boost her self-confidence.
“Pretty amazing scenery, huh?” His low voice sent a tremor of nerves through her.
She nodded. “It’s beautiful. This is what I miss most about Tommy Creek…besides my family.”
“When I was a kid, I used to camp out every night during the summer and bunk up in the hayloft so I could fall asleep to the setting of the sun. There’s a great view of the entire farm up there.”
Jo Ellen bit her lip before glancing at him. “Can I see it?” She rushed the words, all the while wondering what the heck she was doing, inviting disaster this way. Yet deep inside, she didn’t regret her request in the least, was even eager to have it all play out.
Cooper glanced sharply at her. “You…you mean the hayloft?”
“The view from the hayloft,” she corrected, barely managing to hide a smile. But he looked so startled, so hopeful, her insides turned to liquid mush, preparing for what her body already knew was to come.
He opened his mouth a good five seconds before his answer came, and when it did, the word, “Sure,” sounded like it’d been slathered in a thick coat of rust.
He turned toward the barn and she followed. When he slowed his pace for her to stroll next to him, she glanced over and smiled. He returned the glance but not the smile. It killed her, not knowing what he was thinking. But he hadn’t rejected this, so she didn’t back out either.
“Watch your step. I’d flip on a light, but you can’t see the sunset quite as well with it on and there’s no switch up there.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find my way.” When he took her hand to help her locate the ladder, she held his warm fingers a second longer than necessary. Then she climbed. Once she reached the top, she paused in the dark, waiting for him.
He took her hand when he joined her and led her to the opened loft door, where he regretfully let go. Her fingers felt chilled without his large, rough flesh wrapped around hers. Their knees almost touched as they dangled their legs out the opening of the hayloft and stared out at the moon and stars. Well, Cooper stared at the moon; Jo Ellen couldn’t take her eyes off their bare hands. A scant inch separated their pinkies as they both clutched the edge of the barn wall.
Wishing he’d make a move, she suddenly realized why the term nice guys finish last was so typically true. With a total jerk, at least she knew whether he was or wasn’t interested in her. With a perfect gentleman like Cooper, however, he was too polite to press his suit. She figured he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or insult her in any way; he wouldn’t pressure her where he wasn’t completely sure she wanted to be pressured.
He cleared his throat. “See that beam sticking out up there with the cables on it?”
Confused by the que
stion, she squinted through the dim night, focusing on what he’d pointed to above them, dangling from the outmost tip of the barn roof. “Yeah. What is that thing?”
“It’s an old horse-drawn track system, or in other words, an old-fashioned hay bale elevator. The track runs the length of the barn and to the back of the loft. And a wheel, called a trolley, would roll back and forth along those cables to move the bales. You’d lever four hooks into the hay bale and have a horse down on the ground draw the line forward, making the trolley move, and pulling the bale up off the ground into the loft.”
Jo Ellen glanced back into the dark recesses of the barn, envisioning the picture he described. She could see a lot of hard-working men, sweat streaming down their sunburned faces managing to get such a job done, one on the ground to hook the bale and another to lead the horse back and forth with two in the loft to catch and unhook. Sending a sideways grin to Cooper, she chuckled. “I didn’t realize I’d get a history lesson when I came up here.”
She could actually see him blush through the dark. He ducked his head. “Sorry, I—”
Bumping her shoulder against his, she interrupted, “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed it.”
Biting her bottom lip as she watched his Adam’s apple bob while he stared up at the moon, she silently slid her hand over and covered his warm fingers. He didn’t say a word but looked down at their connection before he twisted his wrist around to press their palms flush against each other. Their digits naturally intertwined, and Jo Ellen let out a shuddered breath of relief.
“I think I could listen to you talk about farming all night.”
His gaze lifted to hers. Arousal swirled up from the pit of her stomach, filling her with tight, achy pressure.
Cooper swayed close. Jo Ellen lifted her chin and let her lips part slightly.
When his mouth brushed against hers, a jolt surged through her, slamming a vibrant energy across her skin. She’d never experienced such an awakening before. But suddenly, she felt very alive and very aware of how truly talented a kisser Cooper Gerhardt was.
He opened his mouth and she followed, meeting his tongue in the softest caress. When he groaned a low, masculine sound, the noise vibrated between her legs, titillating her. He reached for her, curling his hand around her nape to draw her closer. She followed the coaxing direction of his touch and scooted the last few inches to him. And his mouth didn’t once leave hers.
To brace herself, she grasped his shoulder, but as her fingers encountered the quivering play of taut muscle under her grip, she began to knead him through his shirt, wishing she had the courage to run her hands over the rest of him.
He broke the kiss and pulled back enough to study her face. His intense gaze flowed over her, searching for something, but she didn’t know what. She waited for him to say whatever was on his mind but he didn’t speak. When his attention drifted down to her mouth, she licked her lips and leaned closer. It must’ve been exactly what he’d been seeking because he crashed his mouth back to hers.
Whimpering out her need, she buried her fingers in his beautiful corn silk locks and clutched his head, afraid to touch him anywhere else in case she did something he didn’t like.
But he certainly seemed to like how she did touch him. With a groan, he clutched her waist and swung her from the entrance of the hayloft further inside where he could lay her down on the warm planks of the floor. Covering her with his large, hungry body, he hovered above her and rested his weight on his shins and forearms as he devoured her mouth, probing his tongue deeper until she arched up her hips, seeking more.
He gave in, settling his legs down to tangle them with hers. The hardness under his fly prodded her hip. She butted at it twice before she realized how provocative she was acting. But he didn’t seem to mind. He pressed more snugly against her and even let his heated palm wander down until it found the outside of one thigh.
His touch on her bare flesh made her gasp. As their mouths stayed fused, she willingly let him lever her knee up to cradle his hips, and oh God, he nudged the very center of her femininity, right through her clothes. She arched tighter against him. His hand worked back up the outside of her leg, sending tingles of arousal skating over her. Upon reaching the hem of her jean shorts, he paused.
Jo Ellen held her breath, waiting, anticipating. Her fingers tightened in his hair and she found herself shifting so the tips of his fingers disappeared into the gap between her shorts and leg.
He shuddered on top of her and followed her urging, moving again, letting his short fingernails barely scrape her flesh as he worked higher, higher—
He stopped dead when he encountered her panties.
Breaking his mouth from hers, he panted against her neck and rested his temple against her chin. “Jo Ellen.” His voice cracked on the desperate whisper. “Is this okay?”
Her eyes flared open. Okay? Couldn’t he tell it was better than okay? It was ecstasy. Heaven. She bobbed her head. “Yes, yes. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He groaned and breached the sacred elastic band. They didn’t return their mouths to each other but continued to press their faces together, both too intent and anxious to experience the feel of his palm on her bare bottom. With the rough texture of his work-hewed hands edging across a soft cheek, they both sucked in a breath.
“Oh, God. You’re wet.”
She gave a husky laugh. What did he think she’d be?
“I…I didn’t think I could…didn’t think I was capable of—” Explaining himself seemed to take too much time because he broke off to press his mouth back to hers. The moment his tongue thrust between her teeth, his fingers sank deep.
She bowed up, startled by the shocking sensation. It was so…so…divine. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, the sweetest invasion.
“Cooper,” she sobbed, her hands balled tightly with fistfuls of his hair as she restrained the urge to release them on his body. “Cooper…please.”
Dang it, she couldn’t stop herself. She let go of his blond locks and reached down, fumbling between their bodies to free the zipper of his jeans.
At her touch, he lurched on top of her and slapped his free hand onto the wooden floor by her head. Trembling above her with all his weight braced against the floor around her, he heaved shallow breaths against her temple before, saying, “I…are you…protection?”
Her hand froze. “I…no. Sorry, I…I don’t…”
“It’s okay.” He slurred out the words thickly, his voice full of desire. “I have…inside…I…I’ll be…be…” Without further ado, he scurried off her. “Right back.”
Cooper nearly shredded the drawer under his bathroom sink as he searched for his box of condoms. It had been so long since he’d last needed them, he wasn’t even sure if he still had the box around or if he’d pitched it when he’d packed up to come live with his parents again. Please, God, he hoped he hadn’t thrown them away—
Oh, thank you, Lord.
He jerked the crumpled box out from under a package of disposable razors and dumped a handful into his unstable palm. Damn, he wished he could stop shaking. But seriously, his ultimate teenage fantasy was about to come true. Ten years late or not, nerves wracked him from head to toe.
After stuffing his pockets, he concentrated on stabilizing his breathing. He lifted his gaze to the mirror above the sink and almost jumped out of his skin to find his own reflection staring back. But seriously, he did not feel as if he inhabited his own body. This did not seem real, couldn’t honestly be happening.
Jo Ellen was outside, waiting for him to—
Holy shit, she was out there, waiting! He kicked his ass into gear.
Heading out of the bathroom, he paused in the hall when he glanced at the linen closet. Wondering if the army green sleeping bag he had used when he would camp out was still on the top shelf, he opened the door and almost wept with relief and nostalgia when he saw it.
How many nights had he wrapped up in this old thing and stared at the st
ars, wishing he could be lying there with Jo Ellen Rawlings?
“What am I doing?” he muttered under his breath. “This is insane.” If he slept with her, he was only going to fall for her all over again, like he always did, and she was going to break his heart whenever she left.
Like she always did.
But if he didn’t go to her right now, he’d spend the rest of his life—just as he’d spent the last ten years—wondering what if.
He reached up and snagged the sleeping bag.
“Camping out in the hayloft again?”
Cooper nearly pissed himself when his mother’s voice startled him from behind. He whirled around, expecting a lecture about pre-marital sex. But then, Loren had no idea he had a woman waiting for him in the loft or how condoms lined both his pockets.
Her smile was soft even if it was filled with bitter sadness. It reminded him why he was on the outs with her in the first place, and made him wonder if he should return to the barn at all. His mother had never loved his father, and Jo Ellen didn’t love him. If he did this tonight, he’d end up like just his father, living the rest of his life in unrequited agony.
Once upon a time, he would’ve been proud to follow Thaddeus Gerhardt’s footsteps. But these days, the idea of becoming the wrinkled old mindless man he visited every week at the nursing home scared the bejesus out of him.
“It’s just like old times.” The aging skin around Loren’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Every full moon in the summer, out you’d troop with your sleeping bag and lantern.”
Conflicted as he always felt when he looked at her lately, wanting to return to normal around her but unable to do so, he lifted his eyebrows. “Where is that old lantern?”
A mischievous spark lit her eyes, showing him a glimpse of the woman she used to be before his father had taken ill. “It’s sitting on the kitchen table, waiting for you…fresh full of oil.”