by Stacey Lynn
I wanted more of her and not just her body, as sweet and sexy as it was.
“I’ve already got my private jet in the air. It’ll be in Lawrence in a couple hours.”
It would take me at least a half hour to get there. “Can you hold her off a day or two? I’ll get there, I swear, I’ll meet her on her terms, but today is a shitty day.”
“Why? Something wrong?”
I was not telling Max his niece had my cock in her mouth last night.
“Rebecca and I had plans today, ranch stuff, you know?” I finished before he could get the wrong—or very correct—idea.
“Actually, no.” He laughed that fatherly laugh I was most used to. “Diane used to go on and on about it, but to tell you the truth, I never paid a lick of attention to her.”
“Nice brother.”
“And the clock’s ticking. Will you make the plane? I need to call Camilla’s lawyer, but my guess is if you’re not on it, she’ll be on one to you by the end of the day.”
“Yeah.” I scrubbed my hand through my hair. “I’ll be there. Let me know if anything worse than this comes up.”
“Hits just keep on coming for you, but I bet you do this and it’ll be done.”
“Yeah. We’ll see. See you soon.” I disconnected the call. It better be done. If Camilla didn’t stick to her word on this, I was done playing the nice guy.
I grabbed the rest of my clothes off the tile floor and didn’t bother putting them on since they were dirty from yesterday. As much as the idea of spending the day in bed with Rebecca sounded like the best idea ever, getting rid of Camilla was smarter.
Hurrying down the stairs, I made sure to move quietly, and I slid into my boots where I left them inside the back door. Dressed enough to make it to the guesthouse, I went straight there and packed.
I’d brought four suitcases of clothes with me, an entire wardrobe I’d barely worn except for a few T-shirts and jeans, but I’d ordered almost all new work shirts that first day I was here. I stood in front of the wardrobe hanging in the closet, debating, and quickly decided.
Screw meeting Camilla in dress pants and shirts and fancy, shiny polished shoes. She wanted to meet me, she could meet the guy I was today, the guy I’d been not only for the last month but for the first twenty-one years of my life.
I grabbed a few shirts and a pair of jeans, just enough to take in a small bag for a quick trip. I’d stay the night if I had to, maybe two, but I wasn’t staying.
A quick flick at the clock told me I needed to get moving.
I still needed to tell Rebecca what was going on, but that could wait until after my shower. And once I called an Uber. Shit, I hadn’t even thought of how I’d get to the airport and it wasn’t like Carlton had their own taxi company. Getting a ride could take awhile.
“Damn it,” I cursed, while I scrubbed my hair in the shower. Maybe Rebecca would let me borrow her other truck. It was old, rusted around the wheel rims and I knew without asking the truck was Joseph’s. The Iowa State decal in the background was a dead giveaway. Also the mess in the cab. Rebecca wasn’t a neat freak, but she cleaned. She was always picking up her house, de-cluttering it. No way would she leave food wrappers, receipts, and other items haphazardly strewn all over a truck. Plus, she hadn’t driven it since I arrived.
It was just the reminder that while she might have cleaned out his clothes and some other random items around her house of him, and she’d invited me into her bed she’d shared with him, he was still very much a part of her life.
Not that I expected different, but was it possible to compete with a dead, well-loved man?
And was I the guy to even try?
Until a few weeks ago, I’d never second-guessed my career despite all the drama and ridiculous bullshit I had to deal with. Like paparazzi caring about where I was or strangers who had no problem shoving their way into my personal life because they saw my face on the big screen.
I put up with all of it, willingly and happily, even thankful because it meant if I was wanted by the masses, I’d been wanted in Hollywood. It meant I was successful.
I still couldn’t shake the rot in my gut at the thought of leaving Rebecca, even if it was for just a few days.
* * *
She was still asleep when I returned to her room. My bag was by the back door and I’d brewed a pot of coffee before I came upstairs. Last night had been incredible.
I wasn’t the guy who took it lightly when a woman gave herself to me, and even before Camilla, I wasn’t the guy who filled his weekends with meaningless one-night stands. I was raised better than that, had seen my parents happily married for over twenty-five years before I left home. I’d been too busy to date when I moved to California and got my first large role, and even when my publicist tried to get me to date another actress for the PR opportunities, I refused.
I wouldn’t fake it and I refused to make my career by giving up my morals the first time I had the chance. Then, I’d been married to Camilla. I wasn’t just faithful, I thought I had all I wanted, would ever need. But damn, sometimes life threw you one hell of a curveball.
Much like the woman currently sleeping in her bed, one hand flung to the side. She was on her back now, covers lifted to her chest but her leg was bent, knee and thigh exposed.
And hell if I didn’t want to run my lips and fingers up the silky cream of her thigh right to her sweet spot. Bury myself inside her. Taste every inch of her beautiful body.
I went to her and sat on the bed next to her, in the curve of her body. Leaning over her, I brushed my lips over her mouth lightly. Her eyes fluttered open and she flashed me that same sleepy smile she’d done last night.
I hadn’t imagined it after all. “Hey. Good morning.”
Reality hit me like a knockout punch to the jaw. This. This was what I thought I had with Camilla from so early on and I had never been more wrong. I’d take Rebecca’s sleepy smile, her laughter, her body, and her ranch every day for the rest of my life and never feel I was giving up a damn thing.
Shit. She wrecked me in all the best ways, but this was not the time to make such ridiculous, life-changing decisions.
“I gotta get going, Rebecca.”
She stretched, the sheets falling so the swell of her breasts appeared. My mouth watered at the sight. Yeah…maybe it wasn’t so damn ridiculous.
“Yeah, I should get moving. There’s work to do. Would you mind getting the eggs today? I feel like cooking some omelets.”
“I’d love to.” I trailed my finger down her temple, around the curve of her ear. “But I can’t stay. I need to get back to L.A.”
Her sleep cleared with the speed of a rocket launch. “What?”
Twenty-Six
Rebecca
It usually took me until coffee cup number two was complete before all synapses fired correctly. As Cooper spoke, I hoped my confusion came from the lack of caffeine.
“I’m sorry.” A yawn hit me, and I covered my mouth. “Can you repeat that?”
Cooper’s hand was at my temple, sliding down to cup my neck. “I’m sorry to wake you, but I got a call from Max earlier. I need to get home.”
Home. My eyes closed from the force of those words and my chest went hot.
He was leaving?
“Why?” And worse, why did he look okay with this? Happy, almost. Last night, the bath—afterwards— all of it rushed through my mind. It had been incredible. The connection between us almost otherworldly. I had never thought of allowing another man to touch me and yet at the first kiss from Cooper last night, Joseph had never once entered my mind.
Only hours after offering Cooper more than my body, my heart was being put through a food processor.
“Camilla’s throwing a fit and refusing to sign the divorce agreement until I meet with her. And worse, there are photos of you and me at Down Home last week. Someone must have recognized me and snapped a picture.”
Oh, snap. I shot up in bed, brushing my hair off my face. Cooper’s hand
fell to my lap and then rose, bringing sheets with him. “What are you talking about?”
“Cover yourself,” he teased, holding the sheets to my chest until I took them from him. “Or I’ll never get out of here.”
That was the last thing I wanted. A lump lodged in my throat. My heart pounded. This was not fair.
“Tell me what happened.”
His smile was beautiful. A bit sexy with a side of cute and I stared at his mouth. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I couldn’t let him see what was swimming in mine. He was leaving and it was happening too quickly.
“Max said Camilla saw it. She said I either fly back to L.A. and deal with her there or she comes here, and trust me, no way in hell is she stepping into Kansas.” He quirked his lips. “A house might fall on her.”
I didn’t smile. This was no joking matter.
“You’re leaving,” I whispered. My voice was dry from sleep and my fear coming true. God, why had I thought I could be with him and keep my heart out of it?
“I’ll be back in a day or two. As quick as I can.”
That made no sense. “Why?”
“What?” He shook his head as if my question was ridiculous. “But I do have a favor to ask. Do you mind if I take the truck in the garage? It’ll take too long to get an Uber.”
Maybe this was a dream. A really, really bad one. Like the kind I used to have after Joseph died, that he was still alive. I hadn’t had one in weeks, months. But this felt like the same, agonizing pain.
Now he wanted to drive Joseph’s truck, something I’d been debating recently about selling. Maybe donating. Or just giving to a high schooler in town. I didn’t need it, but Joseph loved it. He treated it like a queen and I often teased him that it was in incredible condition for being fifteen years old, minus the garbage he couldn’t be bothered to clean.
“Yeah, you can take it. But…” This was all happening so fast. I wasn’t prepared to steel my heart against the possibility of saying goodbye to him. “Why would you come back? You sign those papers and your divorce is over. Camilla will go away and the paparazzi will move on to someone else. There’s no need—”
He slammed his mouth to mine. I tasted mint and inhaled a whiff of his cologne. Plus, he was dressed, freshly showered. He’d gotten ready in the guesthouse and came back to say goodbye. Had he had to debate it?
“I’ll be back,” he stated, eyes narrowed as he spoke. “And I’ll call you while I’m gone. Then we’ll talk. But I gotta get going. Max already has his plane in the air and the sooner I get there, the sooner I put this bullshit behind me.”
And the closer he was to being able to return home for good.
“Cooper—”
“You’re sleepy. We’ll talk when you can make sense of what’s happening here.”
He kissed me again, his hand at the back of my head, one on my shoulder. His tongue slid inside and I pressed against him. If this was our last kiss, it had to last me for a long, long time.
“Bye, Becca. I’ll call you.”
His hands fell from mine, he pushed off the bed and stood, and my head was spinning as he walked out my bedroom door.
I hadn’t even said goodbye.
Cooper was wrong. I knew exactly what was happening. He was taking steps to put all the attention behind him and soon, he’d leave and wouldn’t need to return.
Then, I would have to say goodbye. And it might destroy me.
* * *
“He didn’t leave us, Pepper.” The goat bumped against my knee and whined again. “I swear it. He’ll be back.”
Even if it was just to say goodbye. I wasn’t telling the goat that. He was acting almost as morose as I felt. I’d spent the day alone on the ranch. It was the first time I’d had to do everything by myself in weeks and the day was dragging on slower than molasses.
It had taken me more than my regular cup of coffee, at least three, to finally comprehend everything Cooper said to me before he left.
We’ll talk when you can make sense of what’s happening here.
It was that statement he casually dropped in my sleepy and decaffeinated lap still making my head spin as I gave the goats more water. It was as hot as the dickens out and sweat dripped down my neck into my shirt. My hair was pulled onto the top of my head and I was beyond certain the sun beating down on me was giving me heat stroke with the way my thoughts were drifting.
Did he mean he wanted to stay longer?
What was happening?
I knew that since Cooper arrived, sauntering up to me like he owned the land and everything around it, I’d been on a whirlwind, tossed and thrown about, and yet I knew, if it were to end today, if this morning was goodbye, there was nothing I regretted. What we had last night wasn’t what he so callously called being fuck buddies weeks ago.
It was deeper than that. When he wasn’t around, I thought of him. When he was around, I caught myself watching him when he didn’t see me, and when he caught me, I smiled and turned away, heat searing my cheeks. When we talked, I did everything I could to bring out his smile, his laughter a bonus.
And that night in the kitchen. Last night in the bathroom.
I couldn’t remember a time my body responded with such frenzied have to have you now passion. Maybe I had with Joseph when we were first together. Maybe it was an explosion of chemistry from going without for so long mixed with his of the same as he’d told me.
Maybe it was something different…something different than Joseph and I ever had.
And was that bad? To be able to experience something new and exciting and powerful? Different was good, right?
Pepper bumped my knee again, making an almost groaning sound. “Shh, Pepper. I miss him too.”
It surprised me to hear myself say that. Almost eight months ago, I’d buried my husband. I’d spent the winter in grief and anger and doing the bare minimum to maintain the ranch. Now, only weeks after meeting Cooper, I was hopeful, looking forward to something new, looking forward to someone.
And wasn’t that just the kick in the pants?
Because he might return to me in a day or two, but he was still leaving.
I locked up Pepper and the rest of the goats once I finished filling their troughs with water.
Then I drug my feeling-sorry-for-myself-behind inside, where it was safe to wallow alone.
* * *
Showered and dressed in black yoga shorts and a tank top, I was heading down the stairs to cook myself some dinner when my phone rang in my back pocket.
A pinch hit my chest when Jordan’s name flashed on the screen and not Cooper’s.
He’d said he’d call, and yet I hadn’t heard from him. I was beginning to worry, not only about his safety on the flight but the fact he didn’t bother letting me know he’d arrived. Max would call though if there was an emergency, wouldn’t he?
I answered the phone with that question niggling in my mind. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey kiss ass, you and Hollywood busy tonight? You’ve been all over town and haven’t yet come to my restaurant. Get your asses here and dinner’s on me.”
I was smiling when he called me my childhood nickname. Jordan never wanted anything to do with the farm. He helped because he had to, but the man always had a ball of some form in his hand while doing chores. On the other hand, I was sitting in the tiny passenger seat, watching Dad work and waiting for my turn to drive the tractor before I took my first steps. When Jordan and I were teenagers and argued, he always threw out me being a kiss ass to become dad’s favorite.
As if I needed it. I was Dad’s favorite the day I was born.
My smile faded by the time he was done talking. “Cooper’s not here, but thanks anyway.”
I flipped through leftover containers in the fridge, trying to find something that sounded good. Cooking for one was hard and I’d forgotten how good company was. Me and my pity party for one were perfectly fine with leftover steak.
“What do you mean he’s not there? Did he run into town? Got a
ll night for dinner.”
A strange pinch pricked at my chest. “He’s in California.”
“What? Why?”
His voice took on that strange, guttural sound I was used to hearing after he’d lost a baseball game. Or when he was being a prick to my boyfriends.
“Jordan—”
“No way. He worked with us all day. And I saw you with him. He can do that, act like a member of your crew and then disappear? What the fuck?”
My brother. He was younger but mighty protective. He always was but became worse after he moved back and then our parents died. And then Joseph. Every time I lost someone important, his protectiveness magnified. I wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.
“Max called. It’s no big deal. There was something with Camilla he had to see to. He’s coming back when it’s done.”
“He’s coming back.”
“Well, yeah. That’s what he said. And he took the truck to the airport.”
“Joseph’s truck?”
His shock wasn’t a surprise. I hadn’t driven the truck since last fall. Hard to drive a truck your husband died in. I hadn’t done anything except get it repaired after the accident. Actually, Jordan had handled all of it, although I vividly remembered the day the truck was brought to my place. Jordan was there, and I was still living in a fog and not having showered for who knew how long. I’d lost my mind when he took the vacuum from my house to clean it out.
“Yes,” I admitted, that familiar prickle deep in my throat whenever memories of Joseph hit me hard and fast. “Listen, I gotta run—”
“Don’t run,” Jordan said, his voice harsh and commanding. “And don’t hide out on us. Bring your girls to the restaurant. Dinner and drinks on me. I don’t want you sitting alone in that house tonight.”
Again…. He left the word unsaid but it came through crystal clear. I wanted to wallow. To consider what was happening to my life. With me and Cooper. If there was anything happening.