Chapter 3 #2
She was close to saying no. Because maybe he needed a break from her, and she needed one from him.
“Eliana.”
The way he said her name snapped her focus to his gaze. And her heart hit her breastbone hard.
“Please come to dinner.”
Her throat went dry, and she suddenly felt like the foolish girl who’d longed after him at homecoming, and the silly woman who’d wanted to kiss him that night on his ranch, all rolled into one. “Okay.”
Then he tipped his hat and turned away from her, and she felt like that simple motion had flipped her stomach over right along with it.
She did her best not to ruminate about that interaction for the entire rest of the day.
She didn’t do a great job. Why had she told him all that?
It was like the curse was now working to make her terminally un-bangable.
Because not that Cooper would ever, not with her, but if there was a possibility of it, she had well and truly killed it by announcing to him that she was a lame, cursed virgin.
As she closed up, she flexed her fingers, trying to do something with all of the extra energy coursing through her body.
She took a couple of crystals off the shelves and held them close to her heart chakra.
Then she did some breathing and shoved the crystals into her pockets, hoping that they would protect her from her own idiocy.
She was definitely pushing the boundaries of magic.
Because lame was lame. No matter what plane of existence you were trying to be on.
She closed up shop and got into her little car, heading out toward Cooper’s ranch.
It had been years since she’d been out there.
She had been to a few barbecues and things with her brother ages ago.
But it had been so long. She had no reason to go there now.
She knew the way by heart, though, taking the winding road east, away from the beach and from the heart of town, heading toward the mountains.
It was one of the things she loved about Wild Rose Point. There were lakes and rivers, glorious mountain views, and the stunning Pacific Ocean. It was every great and beautiful thing found in nature, at least, in her opinion.
She didn’t have a lot of memories from before living here, which was too bad.
Because it swallowed up memories of her father, too.
She could still see his smile. If she thought about it really hard.
Though mostly, they were just freeze frames from photographs that she had, rather than actual memories.
She couldn’t remember what his voice sounded like.
If she tried really hard, she could hear notes of his laughter echoing in her mind. But that was all.
It was why she’d gotten a tattoo done by Jack at Queen of Tattoos about six months earlier. An ode to the signs she attributed to her dad. Blooming flowers and hummingbirds. If she couldn’t have memories, then she had to ink them on her skin.
She wondered if she didn’t have those memories as a form of self-protection, or if it was part of a curse.
That even the great and beautiful love she had for her father was destined to be erased from everything.
Because he was the man her mother had loved, and therefore couldn’t be part of their lives.
Or maybe life just wasn’t fair.
But that was almost scarier than curses.
A curse felt personal, but at least there was some sense to it.
A pattern. She could keep herself safe by staying away from all of that.
If the world were desperately random, how could she ensure her safety at all?
She pushed that thought away. It was strange and melancholy, and wasn’t going to help her get through the rest of this evening, where she was now going to be decorating a wagon with a man who knew she was a big old virgin.
A very hot man, who made her extra warm every time she was around him. How nice.
There was nothing quite like thwarted sexual attraction.
If she were honest, she had never really been as attracted to anyone as she was to Cooper, but Cooper was more off-limits than anyone else. She couldn’t take that kind of risk with him. God, if she caused an accident with him…
No. She would never be able to bear it. Also, it would make things weird around town. She and Cooper were always in each other’s sphere.
At least with all those other guys, she didn’t have to see them again. They had either moved away or had never lived right in town to begin with, and certainly were connected to her via a very close relationship with her brother.
She opened her mouth and let out a long, low note to try to ease some of the nerves inside of her as she pulled her car up in front of Cooper’s house.
She knew that he and his siblings all had houses on the ranch, but Cooper had been in his place for a long time, and she had been there several times, so she knew just how to get there.
Hank was like Cooper – but even more severe.
She liked Lindsay, Cooper’s younger sister, who was even younger than Eliana, and had a vivacious and cheerful personality, and an affinity for crystals.
She would’ve been happy to see Lindsay. But the idea of going to their main house and having only Hank being there…eh. She figured she’d swing by Cooper’s first.
Although with all the strange sparky embarrassment that was still lingering from this afternoon between herself and Cooper, maybe not.
Might be easiest. Might be for the best.
She got out of the car and propelled herself up the steps, unwilling to pause. Because if she did, she might just shrink back in embarrassment.
It was best to just not think in these situations, at least, that was her experience. She had ample experience embarrassing herself around men, so that was fine.
She was about to knock on the door when it opened, and she found her fist hovering right above Cooper’s impossibly broad chest.
Thankfully, she didn’t actually smash her hand into it.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi. Come in?”
Her stomach went tight. “Sure.”
His house was ruthlessly clean. It surprised her, honestly. But then, maybe it shouldn’t. It was easy to think in terms of him being a cowboy bachelor and assume that there would be a lot of clutter, muddy boots on the floor, and all of that.
But Cooper was one of those steady men. The kind who did exactly what he said he was going to do.
The kind who followed through. He worked his family’s land tirelessly and had, in many ways, become a man at a very young age because of his father’s death.
It was interesting the way those kinds of losses could shape a person.
Marcus had not become a steadfast caregiver in the absence of their dad.
Instead, they had all sort of gotten caught up in the chaotic whirlwind of living a life that was all Sanderson, and not influenced by anyone outside of that.
They’d just absorbed their mom’s energy twofold.
And that was all fine and good; Eliana didn’t need for it to be different.
She was just observing.
“We’re not eating here,” he said.
“Oh, I figured.”
“You could’ve just gone to the house.”
“I didn’t want to end up trying to make conversation with Hank.”
She thought for a second he might be offended by that, but instead, he burst out laughing. “Okay. Fair enough. Though funny that you’re willing to make conversation with me.”
“Isn’t there some saying about the devil you know?”
He shot her a glare. “I guess so.”
“You guys don’t have to fix me dinner.”
And she didn’t have to come. She knew that. She didn’t have to take them up on the offer that was too generous anyway. But at this point, she just wanted to be around Cooper even if it was foolish.
She had seen him more in the past few days than she had probably in the last year, all added up.
It was nice. With Marcus flitting here, there, and everywhere, they just didn’t have the opportunity to see each other quite as much.
Sure, they encountered each other around town, he and Lindsay came into the Water Witch to shop, but…
You just have a crush on him.
She didn’t like to think of it that way because a crush sounded childish. And… Her feelings for him were physical. Because she wasn’t a teenage girl. Because she did no better than to get all wound up about feelings and crushes, et cetera.
“Have you actually ever ridden in a wagon before?”
His question felt like it came out of the blue. She blinked. “I… No.”
“We might as well hitch the horses up after dinner, and I’ll give you a ride. It can be a little bit bumpy. And if you’re going to ride up on a haybale in the back, you might see how that feels to you first. Since you’re going to be telling stories and all that.”
“Oh. Yeah. That sounds good.”
It was one way they were very different. He was, of course, thinking practically, while she had been thinking aesthetically. About how it would look, about the people that they would get to go on the ride, about the clothes she would wear. “We make a good team,” she said.
“Yeah. Well. I don’t know how you figure that.”
“Because. I would absolutely launch into this without ever having been in a wagon before. And you think of the practical things.”
“Wow. Practical. What a compliment.”
“I would think for a guy like you it would be.” There was a strange expression on his face, and she couldn’t quite figure out what it was. She was going to ask when he seemed to kick into a higher gear. “Come on. We’d better get to dinner.”
“Oh. Sure.”
“I can drive us over there.”
She nodded.
She scolded herself, even as she allowed herself to check him out while he walked in front of her out of the house, down the stairs, and toward her car.
She followed after him and had instant, advanced anxiety about being closed in a tiny vehicle with him. Which turned out to be very merited, once they got the doors closed, and she could smell him. His skin, his aftershave, everything.