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Cooper frowns. “I don’t get it.” I turn to him, my mouth gaping and my eyes wide. “No, no, no, I’m kidding,” he says, as quickly as possible, and then instantly regrets his farce when I reach over and pinch his nipple with all the strength I possess, making him shriek.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “Jesus Christ, you bastard.” He rubs his nipple. “I think I’m bleeding.” He lifts the collar of his shirt and peeks inside.
I roll my eyes. “That’s what you get for making me think you forgot our first date.”
He smiles. “I could never forget our first anything.” He leans in for a kiss, which I dodge with a huff, climbing out of the car.
Cooper climbs out and follows me, walking up behind me and slapping me hard on the ass, making me yelp. I turn towards him and kiss him. “Race you to the counter,” I say, and take off.
I win just barely, and hand the man my credit card. “Two please.”
“Wes, I can pay for myself.” Cooper’s voice is stern.
“What part of “date” don’t you understand?” I smile at him and poke him in the nose. I hand Cooper a blue ball and pick a brown one for myself, and he grins. Although this isn’t the same golf course we’d gone to on our first date and many of the dates that had followed, it feels really good to be reliving old times with him. We’d gone mini golfing on a regular basis as teenagers and always chose golf balls that matched each other’s eyes. Now that I think of it, that was probably a dash more creepy than it was romantic, but eh, hind-site is twenty-twenty. And am I gonna stop now? Nopety-nope. It’s totally our thing.
“I think we should make a deal,” I say. “Loser has to kiss the winner.”
Cooper smiles. “I can live with that.”
There are eighteen pars and on each one we do our best to screw each other over, nudging into each other, poking each other in the ass or the ribs, or the groin, or making a loud noise when the other is about to putt. We do silly things on purpose like putt bent over backwards, with our head between our legs, or while giving the other person a piggy back ride, or we kick the ball instead of using the putter. It takes us forever because of our antics and we have several groups of people go past us (most of them amused) but we laugh like crazy and flirt the whole time, and I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. When we finally make it to the last hole and both get our balls in, we cheer and hug each other.
“So, who won?” Cooper asks. We are both sweaty from being out in the sun for the last two hours and smiling profusely.
I pull out the score sheet and show it to him. It’s completely empty. “We both did,” I say, smiling.
Cooper grins and slides his arms around my waist as I wrap mine around his neck, and we kiss right there, on the eighteenth par, in front of God and everybody.
CHAPTER 10
COOPER - 10 YEARS EARLIER
“Okay, we just have to put the frosting on, and then it’s done.” Wesley slides the cake out of the oven and sets it on the pot holders that are sitting on top of the counter. Then he reaches over and turns the oven off, before looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. “And then we’ll have a perfectly delicious celebratory cake.” He steps forward and presses his lips to mine, cupping my cheeks with his hands which are still covered in oven mitts. I had shown up half an hour ago with the news that I’d finally saved up the money to start the training for my private pilot’s license, and this is our way of celebrating. It’s been a year since I got my job at the bakery but it’s been slow going, saving up since I can only work a few hours a week between school, sports and wanting to still have time with Wesley.
I chuckle and pull him away. “Can you get rid of those?” I ask.
“What?” Wesley says, mock-affronted, looking at the oven mitts and then back at me. “Don’t you think they’re sexy? They have turkeys and everything.”
That just makes me smile even more and bring Wesley’s face back to mine. “You are sexy. And adorable.” I press my lips to his and slide the oven mitts off sequentially, feeling Wesley’s lips smiling against mine.
He kisses me again, and it gradually intensifies as we keep coming back to each other. Finally, I grab his thighs and he jumps up, wrapping his slender legs around my waist, combing his fingers through my hair as I turn and place him on top of the counter. God, kissing him is intoxicating. We’re moaning into each other’s mouths when I hear someone clearing their throat behind me and we break apart. Wesley’s legs drop from around my waist as I turn and see Greg in the entryway to the kitchen. My cheeks heat and I feel Wes pressing his forehead into my shoulder, his hands gripping my forearm.
“Hi, Mr. Hall,” I say. “We were just, uh...celebrating.”
“Yes, that’s what it looked like,” he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“Cooper starts his flight training next week, Dad,” Wesley adds. “We made a cake.” He gestures to said object with his head, his cheeks a rosy pink. I do laugh now, because it’s totally adorable that he’s trying to prove to his dad that we were in fact doing something other than making out. He smacks my arm and flushes yet again, biting that gorgeous bottom lip.
“Well, congratulations, Cooper,” Greg says. “Don’t let me keep you from ‘celebrating.’” He puts the word in finger quotes and turns his gaze to Wesley. “Just remember that your mom and I are in the next room and we’re not as old as you might think. We still have our hearing.”
Wesley’s face flushes an even deeper shade of pink and he runs his fingers through his curls. “Yeah, sorry, Dad.”
Greg crosses to the fridge and opens it, grabbing a soda and popping it open. He takes a sip and then leaves, a grin on his face. I’m sure it’s not the first time he’s walked in on one of his children while they were making out. Wesley is the youngest of three, after all. All things considered that could have gone a lot worse.
I turn back to Wesley who is still biting his lip and blushing fiercely. I brush his nose with mine. “You’re adorable,” I tell him, and his blush deepens. Then we’re kissing again as we wait for the cake to cool.
It’s a few days later when I’m lounging on the sofa in front of the television, trying to distract myself, that I hear a knock on the door. I’m not expecting anyone. Mom is at work, but she’ll be home any minute. I’ve been in a mood all day, and no matter how much I hate it I can’t seem to help it. I get like this every year at the same time. It’s a hard day for Mom and me, remembering when Dad left us, and we both get a bit melancholy. On top of the anger, grief and depression I also feel immense guilt. It’s always there, lingering under the surface, but normally I’m able to push it down. Today though, not so much. And I need a distraction. I know I was only five but there’s a part of me that still can’t shake the fact that I’m the reason he left. That I’m the reason Mom has to work so hard to take care of both of us, that I’m the reason she’s alone. I’ve never told her this. I’ve never told anyone this, how much it affects me, but there are days when the guilt washes over me so fiercely it makes it difficult to breathe.
Wesley asked if he could come over but I told him I wasn’t in the mood for company. A huge lie. I need him here morethan anything, but I don’t want to drag him down with my problems, and I’m honestly not sure I deserve him. He’s always been so sweet about being there for me every year on this day but he deserves a break and doesn’t need to deal with me. I should be able to handle it on my own. God, I sure could use his kisses, though. They make everything better.
