AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was a gentle kiss, accepting of nights spent in, of comfy clothes put on to roam about the house, of textbooks and dusty volumes sharing bed space. All of which was silly. It was her fantasy, not his.
He ended the kiss slowly. “We’ve met before. A long time ago. You may not remember but it was here in the Hamptons. I hung out at the gelato place a lot that summer. You know the one I’m talking about, don’t you?” At her nod, he continued. “And one of your sisters sent you over to me to administer the Kissing Test.”
“What?” Vi searched her memories for that night but she drew a blank. “Are you sure?”
“You had long brown hair.” He ran his palm over her windblown locks. “You were wearing a yellow polo shirt and a blue skirt with matching blue, high top sneakers.”
That sounded like the way Violet used to dress. Preppy. Bright colors.
Coop grinned. “And after you kissed me, you blew a bubble with my chewing gum.”
Violet gasped, suddenly remembering. “You didn’t pass the test.”
“No. And I’m not sorry.” Coop brushed his nose tenderly across hers before drawing her close. “And if that isn’t enough proof of fate, there’s something else. This house? The one where Xuri’s boat docked? It belongs to my parents.”
She gasped once more, wiggling free of his embrace. “Which explains your clean, dry clothes.” He was no longer wearing his wet chauffeur suit. She hadn’t noticed until now.
“Yes.” Coop took her hand. “We’re meant to be together, Vivi. You loved Shakespeare enough to make him your life’s work. Trust in his belief in fate.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And if you can’t trust him, trust in me and my belief that our love was always meant to be.”
Love.For such a short word, it carried powerful connotations. Love. It could change everything for her.
Violet stared into Coop’s eyes. He was a playboy, a charmer, from a family that could just as easily make the news as hers could. On paper, he was everything that a Harvard associate professor up for tenure should avoid.
But fate…
And love…
They could be found in Coop’s steady, brown eyes.
“I love you, Vivi.” Coop gave her hands a gentle shake. “I’m the man who quotes Shakespeare because it’s as deeply ingrained in my consciousness as it is in yours. I’m the man who enjoys both a little adventure and a little stability. I’m the man who wants to help people and animals. I’m the man…” He stroked his thumbs over the back of Violet’s hands. “…who wants you to be happy and not completely lost in your books 24/7. And I’m the man who knows you aren’t happy unless you get uninterrupted time with those very same books. I’m telling you that I know you and you know me. I’m in it for the duration no matter what happens between me and my dad or you and Harvard.”
I’m in it for the duration.
I could love this man.
He’d brought Violet smiles and coffee this week, looking past her groggy crankiness. He’d expressed interest in Shakespeare and her grandmother, both of which could be trying. He’d come to her grandmother’s rescue and hadn’t complained. Nor was he bailing now. He was saying that he’d stick with her no matter what. And she… And she…
Violet felt the same. She loved him.
“Say you believe in fated, true love, Vivi,” Coop said softly. “Say it and I’m yours.”
The wind had died down. The waves rolled gently to shore. The moon’s glow reached them in their small haven. It was as if the very world around them was waiting for Vi to acknowledge the truth.
“I believe in fated, true love.” She was going to have to rewrite her paper, gosh darn it. “And I believe in you, Charles Cooper Pearson the Third. I love you. So very much.” Violet reached for him as if she’d been reaching for him forever.
*
“I can’t believe the sun’s coming up.” Coop walked out of his Hampton’s home, one arm draped over Vivi’s shoulders. The sun was indeed rising, shining on a day that held the promise of love.
The rest of their group followed them out—Dotty, who’d fallen asleep on the living room couch, Simon and Kelcie, who walked hand in hand.
“Coop?” a masculine voice called to him from near the garage.
Coop slowed. Turned. “Dad?”
His father crossed the crushed gravel driveway, looking thinner yet healthier than he had two months ago. His button-down shirt and slacks hung in rumpled, awkward excess. “Was there a party here last night?” He gestured to the catering van that trundled toward the main road.
“Yes.” Coop felt the energy drain right out of him because he knew what his father would think—that Coop had hosted the event.
