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She grinned. “Yeah, we must be.”
His hand stroking her hair put her in a liquid state of slumber. She felt too good, too limp to fight it.
“Cooper?” she murmured one last time before she was out.
“Hmm?” he asked, his voice growing distant as sleep filtered into her head.
“Thank you.”
She wanted to keep talking all night, but before she knew it, it was morning and she’d fallen asleep in the arms of a man she already knew she didn’t want to leave at the end of the week.
Chapter Sixteen
Coop woke to the crow of his mother’s annoying rooster. The damn thing sounded like it was in his bedroom with him. Squinting his closed eyelids against the morning light pouring through his window, he reached for his pillow to cover his face, but couldn’t find it. The hard boards under his hand reminded him where he lay, nestled in his old sleeping bag.
Again, he began to pat around him, searching for Jo Ellen this time. When he realized she wasn’t there, he lurched upright, wide-awake.
> His lungs squeezed in tight around his heart. He should’ve known she’d run and—
“Good morning.” Her quiet voice had him veering his attention to the opened hayloft doors. Dressed in the same jean shorts and tee she’d worn the day before, she sat at the edge of the loft opening with her legs dangling over the side. She’d twisted her torso to glance back at him with a shy smile.
A relieved breath whooshed free, and he knew. He was in deep trouble. Ten years hadn’t separated them at all, he was still just as crazy for her as he had been at eighteen. Maybe he was even worse off this time around. After last night, the stir of longing inside him made every muscle in his body clench painfully.
He nodded, ignoring the fear coursing through him. “Morning.” The most insignificant greeting he’d ever given anyone. He wanted to say so much, but the words clogged in his throat.
She held all the cards; she could break him or make him with the slightest hint of her affections.
When she turned back to watch the horizon brighten as the sun rose on the other side of the barn, he winced. Trying not to read anything into her actions, he searched for his jeans and slid them on before crawling the last few feet toward her. He wanted to kiss the back of her hair, wanted to sit behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, maybe rest his chin on her shoulder so they could watch the farm greet the day together.
But he didn’t want to press his luck, so he politely swung his legs over the side of the barn wall as well and settled next to her with a good foot of space separating them.
After a minute of silence, she pulled in a quick breath. “I better get home before everyone at Mom and Dad’s wake up.”
So she wanted to bolt already, huh?
His hands balled into fists. He told himself not to take it personally, but he did anyway. If she wanted to make the most magical night of his life her dirty little secret, fine. It was no skin off his nose.
Except it was.
He cleared his throat and mumbled, “I’ll walk you to your car.”
He hoped he masked his thoughts sufficiently enough. He didn’t want her thinking he was so delicate she could wound him with a simple sentence. But damn. With her, his freaking pansy feelings were so delicate she could wound him with a simple sentence.
And she must’ve known it too because her brow puckered before her face drained of color. “I just…I meant, I’d feel it would be better if I didn’t give anyone the opportunity to ask questions, because…because I’m not too sure what the answers are.”
He bobbed his head. Right.
That would make two of them. He was full of questions, and didn’t know a single answer.
What had last night meant to her? What did it make them now? When could he see her again? Did she want to see him again?
God, he could drive himself crazy with all the questions. But he instinctively knew nothing would scare her off faster than bringing them up.
He shook his head and scrambled to his feet. “Just let me get the rest of my clothes on.” He busied himself, pulling his shirt over his head and sitting to jab his toes into his boots before he rolled up the sleeping bag. He’d just reached for his hat when he realized she’d been watching him, and he couldn’t read a single thought from her pensive expression.
Damn it. He didn’t like this. He did not like feeling more for a woman than she felt for him; especially this woman. If she wasn’t as into him as he was into her, he wished someone would just shoot him now and put him out of his misery.
Ignoring his own inner turmoil, he pushed to his feet. Offering her his assistance, he silently held his hand out. When she took his fingers, he felt the tremor in her and wondered what it meant.
