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I shove that desire down because I have a different desire to satisfy. Coop. I order an Uber, fix my makeup, and change into my favorite black lace lingerie under a simple maxi dress. I feel beautiful and sexy, and most of all, confident.

When the car arrives, I dash down the stairs and leave without a farewell because my stomach is full of butterflies, and I am a ball of nervous energy by the time Coop’s small house near the Port comes into view.

This is it. Either Coop is going to welcome me inside with open arms, or he’ll scowl at me in that sexy, slightly intimidating way of his and tell me to get the hell away from him and stay away.

I let out a sigh as I open the door of the Uber and put one foot on the ground and then the other, pushing out of the back of the car. It takes all the effort I can muster to perform that small task and command my legs to move one foot in front of the other.

Each step closer to the house feels like an eternity, but finally, I reach the front door and raise my fist to knock. My heart hammers in my chest as if powered by an industrial pump, so loud and all-consuming that I don’t hear the locks disengage or the knob turn.

The door yanks open, and I look up and right into the barrel of a gun.

“Shit. Kelsey.”

I gasp and take a step back. “I guess this was a bad idea.”

My heart races for a different reason his time, and my heel catches on a rock, sending me falling backward until Coop’s strong arm reaches out and hooks around my waist. “Whoa!”

He flashes a sexy, flirty smile. “I gotcha.” His words might make me feel better if he wasn’t waving around a giant gun.

I push at his chest. “Thanks.” Smoothing my hands down my hips and then my hair, I flash a nervous smile. “Expecting someone else?”

His smile vanishes. “Always. What’s up?” Coop steps back and waves me in, casting a cautious look left and then right before closing the door and locking it tight.

“I’ve been trying to reach you, and you weren’t answering, which I know means I should probably just take a fucking hint, but I didn’t. So, here I am.” I’m rambling, and I know it, but I’m nervous. Fucking terrified, actually.

“Kelsey.” That’s all he said for a long, eternal moment. My name accompanied by an anguished smile.

I take in the sight of Coop again, hoping this isn’t the last time I get to lay eyes on his beautiful face, dotted with freckles from too much sun exposure. His hair looks like copper fire in the dim light of the living room, his blue eyes dark and troubled.

I look closer the second time, noting the signs of strain around his eyes and mouth. And then I notice what I miss at first glance. A bruise on his jaw, a cut on his lip that’s already starting to heal. A bluish half-circle on the outside of his left eye.

“My God, Coop, what happened?”

Before I can think better of it, I’m right in front of him, one hand on his chest and the other brushing gently at the bruises marking his beautiful face.

Coop lets out a groan and closes his eyes as one hand wraps around my wrist to stop my hand from brushing against his skin.

“Kels.”

I take a step back, and his grip tightens. “I guess I should…go.”

“No.” His eyes open to mine, and my breath catches in my throat. “Don’t go.”

I shake my head, wanting to step in closer and wrap my arms around him, but knowing that I’m not wanted here. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” He sighs and pulls me closer, forcing my feet to do what my mind has been trying to get them to do for the past thirty seconds. Move.

“I don’t need you to say that, Coop. You haven’t called. Texted. Dropped by unexpectedly. I’m a big girl, and I know the signs. I just want to be sure.”

And usually, I let those signs guide me, but with this man. I ignored good sense and came here anyway.

“I’ve been busy, Kelsey. Really fucking busy.” The words come out on a soft, exhausted sigh. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole the other day. It’s no excuse, but I really did have a lot on my mind. My plate too.” He flashes a weary smile and looks over my shoulder. “No food this time?”

“No. I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I would get.”

“You’re more than enough,” he whispers and brushes a kiss against my cheek that’s so chaste and so intense I feel my heart beating faster with each beat.

No one has ever said those words to me. You’re more than enough. Those words sound even better than those highly sought-after three little words, and my heart stutters to a stop and kicks back into gear in double-time. Each time I look at him, I see something else. Something different. There’s a darkness in his eyes that I don’t recognize.

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