A too-short three minutes later, there’s a knock on my door. Pulling it open, I find Cooper on the other side.
A Cooper that I don’t think I even could avoid touching tonight if I wanted to. He’s wearing jeans that showcase the tight ass muscles I’ve spent way too many hours admiring today as hesquatted down to take photos, and a sweater pushed up to his elbows amplifying the strong arms I know he could use to toss me around the bedroom like a ragdoll. I clench my thighs together in response to letting my thoughts wander.
“Hey.”
I swallow hard before responding, stunned by his grin. “Hey. I’m glad you made it.”Idiot. He lives next door. Of course he made it.
Extending a very sweaty hand, I pull it back quickly before he can touch me and realize what an absolute disaster I am. And how terrible of an idea it is to get involved with a widowed single mother who is still dealing with her husband’s debts.
“Come in. I’ve set the table. But I still only have plastic plates.”
“We can just use the takeout containers. Then we won’t have dishes.” He sets the paper bag on the table and begins to pull out food. “Clark had two specials tonight so I got both. One was a smothered steak with salad and baked potato, and the other was a chicken piccata.” He places both containers between the two seats across from each other, the seats that have been dubbed ours each time he’s eaten here. “Oh, and a chocolate raspberry cake that I can’t figure out if Violet made or not.”
I peek in the dishes and my mouth is instantly watering. I don’t often let myself enjoy takeout, instead trying to save what little money we have because I refuse to let Aggie and Tommy pay me for my help around the farm when they won’t accept rent.
“Oh my gosh this all looks so amazing.” I take my seat when he pulls out the chair for me.
“Yeah, I almost had to get three cakes so I could eat one in the car. Even though I did also eat one while I waited for our food. So I can confirm you will love it.” He gives me a sheepish smile when he admits he ate one already.
“Dessert before dinner?” I jokingly chide while laughing.
“Sorry. I had to be bad once.”
“Just once?” I ask.
He stares at me as he takes his own seat and his eyes drop to the low cut V in my sweater. “Maybe more than once.”
My thighs squeeze together once again at the heat in his gaze along with his words. We each grab the silverware, foregoing the plates, and dig into the dishes together.
Could my life be this easy as it is with Cooper?
Why am I so fucking awkward with women? Seriously. Why can’t I channel my inner Wyatt when it comes to dating. All he has to do is look at a woman and say, “Wanna fuck me?” like it’s a privilege for them, and they fall for it.
Meanwhile, I did the whole romantic date night idea and we’re still sitting with a foot of space in between us, both our hands fidgeting in our laps. I can’t make myself reach for her.
I’m just going to go full highschool on her. Why not?
I scooch over on the cushions just a little and then stretch my arm out behind her on the back of the couch. She stills, waiting for the contact and I chicken out. Leaving my arm where it is.
Rolling my eyes at myself in disappointment is the only next move I have. Until she moves over closer to me. Closing the gap to maybe only a four inch space between us.
Now it’s my turn to freeze. Is this her letting me know she wants me? I mean, it’s my arm around her. It’s not like she’s agreeing to be my wife. Does she want that—to be a wife again? Have more kids?
“Stop thinking so hard. I want you to touch me, Cooper.”
I swallow hard.Now or never, asshole. Make your move.
Dropping my arm to her shoulders, she looks up at me. Words are on her lips ready to leave when I just go for it.
Unceremoniously smashing my lips to hers. I use the arm around her shoulders to hold her close to me while my free hand cups her cheek. I gain control of the kiss and part her lips with my tongue. Letting them tangle together with, I hope, a little more finesse than I had in high school.
A moan leaves her lips, giving me the confidence to keep going as her hand rests on my ribcage, like she wants to pull me closer, wants more of me. Fuck, do I want more of her too.
Pulling her across my lap she settles with her thighs on either side of mine. Her center resting perfectly across the top of my semi-hard cock bulging in my jeans. I try not to think about how perfect she feels because I’ll come in my pants right here and now. I don’t do casual hookups like Wyatt, so it’s been a while since the last woman who touched me, even through my jeans.
She feels so fucking good in my arms, her soft skin brushes against mine. Our breaths are ragged and panting as we continue to make out like horny teenagers. She’s riding me still with too much denim between us.
Her breathing is frantic and her movements are no longer fluid, they’re jerky, uncontrolled.
