Chapter Nineteen
I flip to my side, blowing out a frustrated breath in the darkness.
It’s 2:30, and I haven’t had an ounce of sleep.
I never had this problem before Cooper, but it seems a side effect of falling for the man is insomnia.
My hands flop onto the bed sheets, nothing disturbing either Tom or Cooper as they sleep soundly on the other side of the massive king-size.
Mr. Grumpy Butt has set up camp alongside Cooper’s bare back, stretched out so much that his front paws rest near Cooper’s hip and his tail curls up over Cooper’s upper back.
If Cooper woke up, he’d probably pretend to hate his new cuddle buddy, but I know better, and the realization that I know that much about him crashes into my stomach and makes it that much harder to sleep.
He’s a stomach sleeper.
His muscular back rises and falls with his heavy breathing and the comforter rests across his hips.
If I wasn’t afraid of waking him, I’d stroke a finger down the line of his spine and trace over the hills and valleys of muscle that cover his body.
Imagining it alone has my thighs clenched together, but what’s more concerning is the fact that it isn’t his muscles at all that have my heart pitter-pattering and my mind refusing to shut down.
It’s because when I touch him, he gets a twitch in the corner of his mouth that is so freaking adorable that it makes me want to touch him any chance I can get.
It’s the hopeful, childlike look in his blue eyes when I agree to whatever mundane task he’s asked me to do for him.
It’s the word vomit he spouts at the most random of moments that make me blush and take my breath away.
It’s watching his nose wrinkle when one of my cats jumps up on his lap.
It’s the wince that pinches at his forehead when I stick my cold feet on him.
It’s the content and joy that rests in his eyes when he held my nephew or when he had tea with my niece.
I reach out, but stop halfway to his back and quickly flip onto my other side.
How did this happen?
A couple weeks with him and a lifetime of views have flipped on its head.
I push the comforter off of me, flinging Kat to Cooper’s side of the bed and causing Tom to let out a low growl.
I stand at the foot of the bed and wait, watching Cooper until I know for certain I haven’t woken him up.
There’s a smile on his lips, and he’s totally snoring.
He’s even adorable while sleeping.
Damn him.
I tiptoe across the carpet and sneak into the hallway.
The house is so big, so quiet.
It feels weird to me, suddenly, even though this was essentially my dream.
Make money, buy a huge house just for me.
No kids to make noise, no relationship outside of the one with my cats.
A place to have cocktail parties—if that’s even a thing anymore—or to entertain people, but mostly to just have all this space to myself.
As I listen to the silence—minus Cooper’s cute snores—that seems so empty.
“But I’ll travel,” I whisper out loud, like I’m trying to convince myself that I haven’t changed my mind.
“I won’t have to find babysitters or compromise on where I go and what I do when I get there. It’s going to be so great.”
But even putting a voice to it doesn’t make it sound so great.
Cooper’s snoring isn’t helping things either because suddenly I feel like I could listen to that sound every night for the rest of my life and that would be great.
I shake my head and start down the stairs, putting as much distance as I can between my ears and his snores.
I need a wake-up call—some cure for the love bug bite.
After rummaging through the fridge and cupboards and coming up with nothing that sounds good, I wander around the house, going from floor to floor, from room to room, arguing with myself the entire time.
When I step into basement and hear water lapping, I slip off my slippers and push open the door to the pool.
The air in here is sticky and humid, but it clouds my head, so I already feel better.
The pool is surrounded by windows, all fogged from the heat rising off the water.
I can’t see any stars, the night sky either clouded over or the windows too foggy to clearly see through.
I rub my arms, not from being cold—I’m very much the opposite even in my pajama shorts and cami—but to try to rub out the jittery feeling running under my skin.
I’ve spent two weeks with Cooper here in this house, a house that is neither of ours, and as determined as I was that I wouldn’t fall, I feel myself slipping off the edge.
Thoughts of a future with him keep invading my mind, keeping me awake, making me equally excited and terrified .
I’ve been with other men for much longer, and never did I entertain the ideas that have been running wild in my head.
I’ve found myself wondering what our house would look like someday, if I can convince him to build one, and then I shake myself out of it, shocked that my mind went in that direction so naturally.
I’ve paused at wedding magazines in the checkout, doodled his name on Post-Its in my office, wondered about when I should let him meet the rest of my family.
And now, as I sit on the edge of the pool and dip my feet in the surprisingly warm water, the thought that enters into my head is that if I’m meant to have babies, I want them to be his babies.
I bury my face into my hands and try to breathe.
For years I’ve argued my point, driven it home to all my family and friends who asked.
It’s okay to not want kids.
It’s okay to want to stay single.
It’s okay to have fun and live my life the way I want to live it.
Admitting that I’m starting to see something different, want something different, feels like I’m admitting that I was wrong.
I don’t think I was wrong at all.
Some people don’t want a family, and that’s okay.
But wanting a family isn’t wrong either.
Wanting the wedding, the house in the suburbs, the kids running wild…
That’s not insanity.
It’s not a false hope.
It’s just someone else’s dream, and seeing Cooper want it so badly, and falling for him not despite it, but because of it, now makes it feel like my dream, too.
A low grumble escapes my lips, and I slide fully into the water, clothes and all, just to see if it’ll jolt me back to the person I used to be.
My head dips below the surface, and I try to sit on the pool floor, but I’ve never been much of a sinker.
So I float around for as long as I can hold my breath.
As much as I want the water to make my mind shut up, now I’m chuckling to myself at the thought of Cooper trying to clean a pool by himself instead of letting a professional do it.
No doubt he’s tried before, if he has a pool in any of his numerous properties.
I don’t think I want a pool.
It seems a little scary, to be honest, not to mention the maintenance on one of these things.
What if I forget to lock the door or something, and one of my kids finds their way into the water?
My heart squeezes just at the thought, and then it jumps as if it just realized that I’ve pictured kids in my future again.
Because honestly, I’d want a pool if it weren’t for that.
So I guess I want a pool?
Ugh, what has that man done to me?
I lift my head and take a deep breath before settling back into the water.
I watch my clothes float around me, my blonde hair curtain out on the surface.
This is relaxing; maybe I should flip to my back and sleep here.
The water jostles around me, a flurry of bubbles popping right next to my body.
Next thing I know there is a tight grip on my stomach, whirling me around and making me gasp in a mouthful of water.
“Maya, Maya!” Cooper rushes out as I sputter water in his face.
His hand frantically wipes droplets from my cheeks, his other arm holding me so close that even if I tried to cough away from him, I’d hit his skin anyway .
“I’m fine,” I choke out.
“Well, I was until you scared the crap out of me.”
“ I scared you ?” His blue eyes flash with fury, and I jolt a little in his arms. “Damn it, Maya. What are you doing down here?”
“I… I couldn’t sleep.” I blink a few times, trying to get the water out of my eyes and catch up to his mood.
“How’d you know where I was?”
“Security cameras.” He reaches up, the anger in his eyes slowly dissolving as he smooths my wet hair back.
“Scared the hell out of me.”
I give him an apologetic look, biting my bottom lip.
“Sorry.”
He shakes his head.
“Like hell you are.”
“You’re… really mad. I’ve never seen you mad before.”
“Picture this,” he says, tilting his head.
“It’s three a.m. and the security alarm wakes you up. Your groggy eyes open to check out the camera, and you see your girl face down in the pool, fully clothed.”
“You’re a good story teller,” I tease.
“Ever thought about writing a book?”
His hand drags down from the small of my back to my butt, and he gives me a pinch.
“You can’t do that to me.”
My playfulness starts to dissipate, and I put a hand on his chest. His heart pounds under my palm, and I kick myself closer into his embrace.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him sincerely this time, but his brow tilts in skepticism as he runs a wet finger across my smile.
“Yeah… you sure look it. ”
“I am.” I tap my forehead to his.
“It’s just… Well, you called me your girl. The smile cannot be helped.”
I thought he’d be happy about that admission, and I think a part of him is, deep under all the concern swirling in his baby blues.
We bob in silence for a bit, the water the only sound around us until he says, “I’m surprised it makes you smile. The endearment.”
“No one’s as surprised as I am.”
The corner of his mouth twitches in that adorable, magical way.
He moves in close, his breath a warm wave over my lips.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he says.
“Go for it.”
“I’m not gonna stop.”
“Fine with me.”
“I’ll probably tell you something…”
I tilt my head at him.
“Like…?”
“Like I’m falling for you.” His fingers knot up in my hair, his eyes closing as he blows out a long breath.
“I’m falling hard, Maya, and I know you don’t want to hear that, but my mouth just likes to tell you every thought in my head.”
My heart jumps up on a cloud, and I float up there with it.
He has no idea… none…
just how much I like that he tells me his thoughts.
How I feel like I know so much about him and yet he still manages to surprise and shock me.
I want to do this every day for the rest of my life.
I want to let go of the edge and fall right alongside him.
“Okay,” I say, and he jerks back and blinks .
“What?”
“I’m okay with that.” I lift my arms out of the water and wrap them around his shoulders.
“Tell me again.”
His fingers dig into my back, clutching me close to him, his smile full and almost disbelieving.
“I’m falling in love with you, Maya. It cannot be helped.”
I bite away a grin.
“Damn it.”
His brows pull in, and he flings his hand up and out of the pool.
“You told me to say it!”
I bat his hand back down.
“I know. I was saying… damn it, you win.”
Confusion looks good on him, too.
“I win what?”
“I really did try to stop it,” I tell him, trailing a finger over his shoulder.
“But you have to be so cute, so charming, so fun and funny and sexy and honest and real and I’m falling. Damn it, I’m falling for you, too.” I let my voice take on the best impression I can of his.
“It cannot be helped.”
He stares at me, his eyes wide with shock and his lips slowly turning up as my words sink in.
He lets out a long sigh of relief, his body collapsing as he reaches for the edge of the pool behind me for some sort of sturdy ground.
With one arm tight around my waist and the other propping himself up, he presses a pattern of kisses up and down my neck, over my cheeks, on my nose, my forehead, my lips.
He nips at my ear and kisses away the specks of water on my chest. I can feel his beaming happiness in every press of his lips, in every stroke of his tongue.
It lights up under my skin, making me just as anxious to kiss and touch him.
I did this. I made him this happy, caused such a loving and joyful reaction and it is powerful, exciting, humbling.
And my trepidation for a family, for a husband and kids is gone from my head.
I want to give him all of that.
I want to see him this happy always.
I would give up everything I’ve ever wanted just to see this look on his face again.
I’ve always thought of myself, and he’s making me want things for him, and my brain is losing its power as his hands and lips touch me all over in the heated pool water.
I pull myself up on his hips, grateful for the way water makes a person feel weightless.
His hard length presses against me, and I ache to push away my shorts, to pull down his boxers.
I want to make love for the first time in my life.
I want to love him like no one ever has.
I want to look into his eyes and tell him that they are the only ones I want to look at during sex from now on.
I want to tell him how lucky I feel, how I want to give him everything he’s ever wanted, how I’m so glad he took a risk on me.
He must want me naked just as much, his hands skating up my ribs and wriggling my wet camisole up and over my head.
It slops against the edge of the pool, the sound oddly arousing.
I cradle his face in my hands, words never finding their way to the surface as I look into his eyes and hope and pray he can see my every thought.
He covers my mouth in a seductive, hot kiss that sets my entire world on fire.
I’m in love with him.
There is no falling—that part is done and over with.
I’m deep in the pools of love, and I don’t ever want to crawl my way back out.
He pushes me up on the edge of the pool, his fingers tucking into my shorts, and I frantically try to help him pull them off.
He flings them behind him, and they land somewhere in the water as I scramble back along the floor, watching the water drip and pour off his muscular, lickable body when he pushes himself out.
He drops his boxers, kicking them into the pool alongside my bottoms before he sticks his hand out for me.
I tuck my fingers in his palm, and I severely underestimated his strength.
He pulls me to my feet, bends his knees, and a giggle escapes the back of my throat and echoes around us as he hoists me over his shoulder.
I get a glorious view of his ass—and smack it for good measure—while he walks me over to the hot tub.
Thank heavens we aren’t walking too far away; I want him inside me asap.
He lowers me in the center, and for once in my life, I’m not too concerned about how much flab is going on.
He doesn’t mind it, and I don’t think I do either.
Not when he’s looking at me like he is.
“Come here?” he asks, slowly sitting in the hot water and hitting the jet button on the side.
I love that he asks, that he’s a guy who knows what he wants but respects what other people want, too.
I slide onto his lap, slipping him inside as I settle.
I hate being on top.
There was always that self-conscious bug that bit me every time.
I’m too much boob, too much hair, and my cardio and stamina is not anything to write a book about.
But I want to be on top now.
I want to show him just how much he means to me.
I want to keep that look on his face for as long as possible.
I rock my hips, the first satisfying rub sending a tingly flush under my skin.
His own body is red, wet, and the steam rising around us only adds to my arousal.
But it’s the joy in his eyes, the loving caress of his fingers on my jawline that is making me feel so good.
I make love to him for a lifetime, yet not long enough.
When I feel myself tumbling over the edge, throwing my head back in ecstasy, a small part of my mind is sad that it’s almost over.
Cooper is saying something, his voice muffled through the clouds in my ears.
There’s pressure on my hips, on my thighs, and as I blink myself into coherency, I realize he’s pushing me from his lap, desperately shoving against the stone grip I had on his waist.
“Maya, I—”
I kiss him as hard and strong as I can in the aftermath of the orgasm.
His hands are still urging me off of him.
“Maya,” he says around my lips.
“You’ve gotta… You have to get off.”
My head is still foggy, and I grasp for the reason for his request. It can’t be my weight, can it?
I’m light in the water, and he picked me up without breaking a sweat.
But as he softens inside of me, the realization hits like a sobering bucket of ice water, and I all but leap off his lap.
We’ve been making love for so long that the jets have stopped, and I can see his release in the water.
My heart trips and heat rushes through my cheeks.
“Maya…” he says, his eyes polar opposite from the joy that was in them not ten seconds before.
He reaches out to me, and I easily go back to him, wanting to feel the comfort of his skin as my body starts to shake with panic .
“I pulled out as fast as I could,” he tries to comfort me, but I can feel the evidence between my legs, and I don’t know if its him or if it’s just the hot tub water.
“It’s gonna be okay. I heard… I’m pretty sure you can’t get… not with the hot water.”
I shake my head against his, silently letting him know I don’t need him to comfort me with words.
I don’t want this moment ruined by a lapse in judgment.
I press my lips against his, soft and gentle, but hard enough to let him know that I still have fallen for him, that this isn’t going to change how I feel.
But I wonder if he can sense how scared I am now.
I never forget a condom.
Never.
He wraps his arms around me, and he pushes us up and out of the hot tub.
We sit on the edge, wrapped up in each other until finally sleep takes me over.