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“What do you want to drink?” she asks and again I find myself grinning.
I drop my head down so that our lips are barely a space apart. “You,” I murmur and then I kiss her.
I meant it to be a light kiss, but the moment my tongue slides between her lips, hers comes up to glide against mine. I capture her moan in my mouth and I have to have more. The kiss deepens, becomes hungry, hot and consuming. Jo’s body slacks against mine as she gives me her mouth, her hands circling around my waist, her nails biting into my back. I’ve never experienced anything like it and I know that’s because it’s Jo in my arms.
Somewhere in the back of my mind a thought takes root.
I’m never going to let her go.
When we break apart, she still holds on to me, her body trembling.
“That was probably a bad idea,” she whispers, her lips swollen from my kiss.
“I think it’s the best fucking idea I’ve ever had and I can tell you something else, baby.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s one I’m going to be repeating.”
“I… I’ll just go get us some drinks,” she murmurs. I let her go and she walks away on unsteady legs. She glances over her shoulder at me before going through an open doorway beside a breakfast bar. She doesn’t say anything, but she swallows and my eyes are glued to the movement of her throat.
Fucking gorgeous.
She comes back in with some paper plates and drinks, and we get settled. I ignore the plate and just grab a slice of pizza. I take a bite, all while watching her. She carefully puts her piece on a plate, then takes a fork and methodically plucks off every mushroom on her pizza. Once that’s done I have to hold back my laughter as she uses a knife to cut off a little corner. I wonder if the knife is going to cut through the paper plate too. I shake my head rather than laugh. I’ve never seen anything like this woman in my life, but damn if I don’t like her more and more all the time.
“What?” Jo asks, looking up at me, no doubt catching the expression on my face.
“You’re eating pizza with a fork,” I mutter.
“Uh … yeah.”
“Babe, you don’t eat pizza like that,” I laugh, taking another bite of mine.
“It’s how I eat pizza,” she mumbles.
“I can see that. I take it you don’t like mushrooms?”
“They’re slimy and taste like dirt.”
“I’ll make note for next time.”
“And you just assume there will be a next time, Cooper?”
“Absolutely.”
“If you say so,” she says, an eyebrow going up and doubt laced in her voice to show her skepticism.
“You need to stop that, Jo. Right now.”
“Stop what? I just asked a legitimate question, Cooper. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, you and I don’t exactly mesh.”
“Keep it up and I’ll show you exactly how well we mesh,” I warn her and at this point I’m not kidding.
This woman just can’t keep from busting my balls. I’m going to have to figure out a way to show her that I’m not like the other men she’s met at the gym. I don’t know how I’m going to do that exactly, but it’s imperative that I do because I really like Jo.
She’s funny, she has a quick wit that I love to spar with, she’s also sweet, so damn sweet she makes me ache. She’s direct and will tell you how she feels, but then she’ll go shy and I find the mix intriguing as hell.
“I’m just being honest. We’re completely different, Cooper.”
“I happen to like our differences,” I say and shrug.
“You live in an apartment in town, right?”
“Yeah? So? Do you have some ridiculous rule about not dating guys who live downtown?” I tease.
“Do you know why I picked this specific house and bought it, Cooper?”
I put my pizza down and look her in the eye, because whatever it is she has on her mind feels important and I want to give her my complete attention when I straighten her out.
“Why don’t you tell me?” I invite.
“It’s in a good school district.”
“Come again?”
“I told you that I wanted kids. I want it all. The house with a white picket fence—”
“You don’t have a white picket fence,” I point out, picking my pizza back up.
“I can have one put in,” she mumbles. “I made sure this place had four bedrooms. Four, Cooper. I want every one of those rooms filled.”
“Man, you’re really trying hard, aren’t you?” I shrug, then I take a bite of my pizza.
“Trying hard?”
“To push me away,” I say after I’ve swallowed my bite.
“I’m being honest.”
I look at her face. She’s working herself up and I need to get this out of the way. It probably wouldn’t help my case if I told her that she’s beautiful when she’s aggravated.
