This Time Around

by Stacey Lynn

  She mixed mimosas in glasses three times the size socially acceptable for day drinking, ushered us upstairs, and before I could tell her where the clothes were — the messy pile obvious — she crouched down and got straight to work.

  I opened and taped the boxes and left the packing to Kelly and Brooke. It was harder to throw Joseph’s belongings inside them.

  Kelly chatted to me about nothing and everything, mindless conversation done only to keep my mind off the task at hand, and it worked for awhile.

  At least through the first four boxes where we managed to get most of Joseph’s clothes loaded and some of his shoes. At some point, Brooke took a couple boxes over to the dresser and started filling those as well.

  Every toss of his clean, folded clothes, flying through the air sent a dagger of pain to my chest. The mimosas barely dulled the sharp edge slicing through me.

  A stack of plaid pajama pants sailed through the air and the flash of green and blue made me jump off the bed and grab them.

  Joseph’s pajama pants.

  The ones Cooper had worn.

  I gripped them in my hand and stared at them. I’d let another man wear my husband’s clothes. I’d liked seeing another man wear my husband’s clothes. I’d kissed another man, a man I was attracted to, and this morning when I woke up with that memory, regardless of how hard I tried to tell myself it wasn’t right, I couldn’t find it in me to wish I wouldn’t have done it.

  Perhaps Cooper was that good of a kisser where he could kiss away my regret.

  “Rebecca?”

  That came from Kelly. Without looking up, I felt both of my friends staring at me.

  “I asked him out on a date for tonight.” My voice was barely louder than a mumble. The green and blue pants burned my palm and I dropped them, wiping off the stinging sensation on my bare thigh. “I invited him over for dinner.”

  “Dinner sounds nice,” Brooke said. She was using her soft tone. Her placating one she rarely pulled out. “Do you know what you’re thinking of cooking him?”

  “You should make your enchiladas. They’re amazing.”

  I shook my head, stood from the bed and went to the bathroom. My friends. They were nutty.

  I grabbed Joseph’s toothbrush from the counter and walked out waving it in the air. “I haven’t been able to throw away my husband’s toothbrush, and last night, in this very room, I kissed Cooper and now he’s coming over for dinner.”

  Brooke plucked the toothbrush from my hand and tossed it into the box behind her. “Joseph’s gone, Rebecca. He’s not your husband anymore.”

  Her hands wrapped around my shoulders as she spoke. She was speaking kindly.

  Every word still felt like an ice pick straight to my skull.

  I blinked away tears. “I didn’t hate the kiss. I liked it.”

  She grinned softly. “That’s okay. Kissing is good.”

  She was no help. I turned to Kelly. “I think I like him.”

  Her grin was sassy and said everything she was thinking. “There’s a lot to like.”

  “You’re such an ass,” I said, laughing through tears. Freaking Kelly. “I didn’t mean his body. I meant him.”

  Her grin faded. “I know. But I also know that if you liked him enough to kiss him, there has to be a lot to like about him other than the fact his jeans make his ass look oh-so-utterly amazeballs.”

  Good grief. The woman couldn’t be serious for three seconds.

  I loved her.

  I flew my hands in the air and slapped them against my thighs. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “None of us do,” Brooke said, shaking my shoulders gently. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to figure it out either.”

  “I love him.” She knew I meant Joseph. “I loved him with everything I had and every minute he’s gone I think of him and if a minute passes where I don’t, I feel like utter crap that I’m maybe forgetting him and it’s only been months and now I’m kissing another man like my marriage meant nothing. But I’m also, really, really pissed at him.”

  They didn’t understand. They thought they did, but they didn’t. Mostly because I’d never told them the full truth. Only Ryan knew and he’d never said a word to Kelly.

  “Woah,” Kelly said. She pulled me out of Brooke’s arms and into a hug. Kelly’s hugs were famous. She was goofy and crazy but so freaking wonderful and she always smelled like lavender. I collapsed into her arms. “Slow your roll there, woman, and let’s focus on one thing at a time, okay?”

  “Okay.” I sniffed.

  “Today, we’re here helping you clean out Joseph’s clothes and bathroom stuff because you realize it’s time, right?”

  Did I? Everything was changing so quickly. And yet dragging on forever. “Right.”

  “Then we’re doing that. After, we’re going downstairs and you’re going to throw away all of his magazines and boots. Getting rid of his stuff isn’t getting rid of him.” She pressed her hand to my sternum. “He’s here. He always will be. This is just crap he kept lying around when he was alive that drove you insane because you always had to pick up after his lazy ass.”

  I’d done that. I’d bitched a lot about Joseph’s inability to toss pants into the hamper or recycle a magazine or kick his boots off in the mudroom instead of right by the door.

  He’d driven me crazy with his forgetfulness as much as he’d driven me wild with the way he touched me.

  “I can get rid of magazines and boots.”

  “Good.” She pulled back and went to crouch down at the pile of his shoes. “Get a box and load up his bathroom crap and we’ll get to work. And then after, we’ll move on to the next item on our agenda.”

  I was afraid to ask. I still did. “What’s that?”

  That time it was Brooke’s eyes that gleamed. “You telling us how good of a kisser Cooper Hawke is.”

  If I’d still been holding the toothbrush, I would have flicked it at her face.

  I grabbed a box and went to the bathroom. She didn’t bring enough champagne to get me talking about that.

  * * *

  I made the damn enchiladas. I made both chicken and shredded beef because I didn’t ask Cooper what he preferred.

  After Kelly and Brooke and I loaded up almost all of the boxes, they left the remaining ones stacked in my office. Kelly told me about the calves Cooper had been concerned about, so I went out and rode around, found them, and found them all up and moving. Just a little skittish, but they seemed fine.

  I didn’t see Cooper all day. He was either out doing something or hiding out in his guesthouse and I was glad for the space.

  At least I was until it came time to begin cooking dinner, showering, and getting dressed.

  I might have gone a little overboard with the dinner. Not only did I make two kinds of enchiladas, still baking in the oven, my kitchen island was so filled with a spread of sides and toppings and chips and guacamole, it looked like I was hosting a dinner party for twelve, not two.

  “Crap,” I muttered, scanning not only the disaster I’d made but the abundance of food. I pulled my hair back and dropped it. I’d spent way too much time on everything. My hair was curled, something I did only a few times a year. My makeup was fully done, and it’d been so long since I’d actually done that I didn’t know if my mascara or eyeshadow were still good.

  And worse, I hadn’t thrown on jeans or shorts and a tank top like I wore almost every single day.

  Nope. I brushed my hands down the sides of the racerback maxi dress I’d thrown on. It’d even required a strapless bra. It fit me perfectly, hugged the curve of my breasts and my hips. It was so long it swished on the floor as I walked barefoot from the counter to the kitchen sink where I dropped in a slew of dirty mixing bowls and forks and spoons.

  I’d made a mess and gotten dressed up in one of my favorite dresses and it was all ridiculous.

  It was Cooper. It wasn’t the first time we’d eaten together.

  It was no big deal.

/>   Telling myself all of that, repeatedly, didn’t settle the unease in my stomach. Or maybe it was anticipation.

  I pressed my hand to it and glanced out the kitchen window, and saw the man who was currently making me feel like I was either losing my mind or at risk of losing my lunch.

  He hopped up the stairs to my patio and my mouth went dry.

  Cooper in jeans and a T-shirt was a beautiful sight. Cooper in black boxer briefs was unparalleled.

  Cooper dressed in khaki dress pants, sandals on his feet and a pale blue polo shirt that showed off his tan and his muscled arms was something I couldn’t comprehend.

  He’d made an effort. He’d made an effort like I had and he went beyond that and held not only a small bouquet of flowers in his hand but a bottle of wine in the other.

  This wasn’t just dinner.

  It was a date. A real-life date.

  I was definitely going to throw up.

  Nineteen

  Cooper

  After Rebecca’s friends left and I saw her head out to the pastures, presumably to check on the calves, I went into town.

  Halfway there, I removed my wig and pulled my hat farther down. If people recognized me, I quit caring. I no longer wanted to hide out on Rebecca’s ranch. I wanted a chance to see where our attraction could take us. I couldn’t do that if I was constantly looking over my shoulder.

  So screw it. People recognized me, my location got out…I’d deal with that fallout.

  I’d half-expected Rebecca to call me or find me and cancel dinner after her day. It was a huge step for her. I headed toward her place, knowing at any moment, I could open that door and she could turn around and close it in my face, telling me she wasn’t ready.

  Instead, she met me at the back, pulling open the screen door as I was almost ready to knock.

  My hand holding the bottle of wine I’d grabbed at the liquor store was frozen in the air as she filled the doorway.

  “Hey,” she said, that bottom lip disappearing between her teeth.

  Jesus. She stole my breath. Her curled hair framed her face and the curls bounced as she stepped back. I had the childish urge to tug on one of them, just to watch them bounce again.

  But it was her smile, hesitant but determined, and her damn body in that dress that held my attention.

  It swooped down low, barely concealing her full breasts and then clung to her slim waist, hugged the flare of her hips just as nicely, if not more so than the rest of her body, before draping to the floor.

  Classy, beautiful, but simple. She gave off the same vibe in that dress as she did when she was in cut off jeans and boots.

  The dress was still a thousand times better.

  “You look incredible.” Her shoulders jerked back as I barked it out.

  I hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but I couldn’t contain it. My hands stung with the need to have her hips in them, where I could run my thumbs along the soft flesh inside her hip bones.

  “Thank you.” She stepped back, bringing the door with her. “You clean up nice, too.”

  I’d wanted to look good for her, show her how much this invitation meant to me. I hadn’t expected her to do the same. A burn swelled inside my chest as I stepped inside. “These are for you.” I handed her the flowers and that burn spread as she brought them to her nose, closed her eyes and inhaled.

  Pink stained her cheeks and her eyes fluttered open. “Lilies are my favorite. Thank you, again.”

  Her sweet pink lips spread wide.

  “You’re welcome, I saw them and thought of you.” Delicate, pure, elegant but classic. I’d almost rammed into the car in front of me in my hurry to swing into a parking spot in order to buy them when I saw them in a window shop in town.

  She had stepped back but still hadn’t given me enough room to enter. I stepped over the threshold, directly in front of her. It gave me enough space to hold the wine in front of me. “I also brought you some wine, but you’ll have to invite me in to get it.”

  “Right. Of course. Come in.”

  “Because I have wine?” I teased.

  Her hand ruffled her curls as she gave me room to enter. “Well, yes. I might need it.”

  I walked into her kitchen and as she closed the door and turned, I was right there. Her hip landed right against my palm. “Oh.”

  “Relax, Rebecca. It’s just dinner.” I pressed my lips to the top of her head. She shivered in my hold as I kissed her and that burn in my chest continued to spread. “This can be as relaxed as you want it to be.”

  I let her go and moved farther into the kitchen.

  Holy crap. My eyes popped open. The spread of a Mexican fiesta all over her counter wasn’t dinner, but a feast. “Did you invite the whole town?”

  “No.” She slapped my bicep as she passed, laughing. “I guess I got carried away.”

  “It looks delicious, smells even better. And it will go great with the red I brought. Want me to pour you a glass?”

  “Yes, please. I have a few last minutes things to do to finish dinner. Make yourself comfortable.”

  I already was. Her house screamed home and comfortable living and relaxation. Every time I stepped inside, the weight of all the stress I was still trying to put behind me in California melted away.

  As she moved toward the stove, slipping oven mitts over her hands, I went in the other direction.

  I found her wine opener, set on the shelves with the wineglasses, opened the bottle and poured two glasses of wine, emptying the rest of the bottle into a decanter on the top shelf.

  After I set that on the kitchen table, already set with cream and pale blue striped placemats and matching blue plates, I brought her glass of wine to her.

  Since she hadn’t kicked me out, told me this was a rotten idea, and slammed the door in my face, I figured it’d be best to get the rest of the hard stuff out of the way immediately.

  She pulled two glass-baking dishes out of the oven and the aroma assaulted me immediately. Red sauce, mounds of melted cheese, they smelled so good I suddenly missed this food truck that was so damn amazing, I risked traffic jams on the I-5 just to have their burritos or tacos. Churros.

  My stomach growled from the memory and the food in front of me.

  Rebecca laughed, a soft, musical laugh while she was shaking her head. “You okay there?”

  “Hungry. It smells amazing and looks even better.”

  “Thank you.”

  She slid off the oven mitts and picked up her wine. “It needs to cool for a few minutes but then we’re ready to eat.”

  “How was your day today?”

  I didn’t give her time to close down on me. It had to be hard. Hell, it had to be one of the most painful things she’d done since Joseph died, but last night she let me in, and I wasn’t ready to get kicked back out to the guesthouse.

  I went to her, tucked her hair behind her ear and watched her fight countless emotions.

  “Are you okay?”

  “No.” She shrugged. “But I was proud of myself, I guess, and that sounds stupid, but Brooke and Kelly helped me and I wish I would have taken them up on that months ago.”

  “Friends are good to have.”

  “I have some of the best and am realizing how much I missed them lately. They always called, you know, but I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t want to deal with their concern or their worry or their ideas on what I needed to do. I just wanted quiet.”

  “And Joseph.” I finished for her.

  “Yeah. And him.”

  Her smile flattened and she sipped her wine. I took a drink too.

  “It’s okay to like kissing me, and still love him.”

  I wanted her to be okay with liking me. Something told me she’d be okay with the physical—that didn’t involve hearts and souls and emotions—more so than she would be admitting she liked me.

  “Dinner’s ready.” She twisted away from me, taking the glass dishes to the kitchen counter and once they were settled, all excitement or nerves had
evaporated from her expression. “We should eat.”

  “Rebecca—”

  “I liked the kiss,” she whispered. Her head was down, hair blocking my view of her. “I liked the kiss and I like you being here, and even though it’s all really strange, I still like it. You don’t have to keep worrying about me, just know that I’m trying.”

  I did worry. Nothing good would come from letting her know it.

  I grabbed the blue plates from the kitchen table and brought them to the counter where all the food was laid out. “Then let’s eat.”

  * * *

  “So tell me about your life growing up. You know all about mine.” She shot me a sheepish smile and dipped back into her enchiladas.

  I didn’t know nearly enough about her life I wanted to, but the dinner conversation so far had been spent mostly talking about the animals. Next weekend, she was planning on a large hay baling party. Her friends and Jordan would show early in the morning and work until the hay was all baled. She said last year it took them until ten o’clock at night to finish. I was looking forward not only to the day of work but seeing her friends come to help her. This week we had to mow and prepare all the hay and while she’d explained the process, I was excited as hell to see her working the large green tractor out back, and maybe even use it.

  I finished the bite of enchiladas I was working on. They were delicious, some of the best I’d ever had.

  “Mom stayed home all her life, Dad worked. He traveled a lot, doing sales for a window manufacturer company, so it was mostly Mom raising my younger sister and me. They’ve been married for almost forty years and they still act like they got married yesterday.”

  She grinned and took a sip of her wine. “That sounds like my parents, too. How old’s your sister?”

  “Katelyn’s a year younger than me. She drove me crazy growing up, always trying to date my friends. It sucked more when her friends started getting hot and I wanted to date them.”

  Her laughter filled the room. “Those Buffalo girls that taught you to kiss?”