Chapter Twenty-four
“Maya, you have a call on line three.”
I run a hand over my forehead, hoping I can rub out the little drummer boy who’s made a permanent home there.
“Take a message?” I ask Sarah.
“I think I’m gonna head home.”
The corners of her mouth turn down, and her lips part like she wants to tell me whatever thoughts she has on my sour mood, but she thinks better of it and ducks out of my office.
It’s been a painfully long twenty-seven days of seeing Cooper and not being able to touch, kiss, or tell him how I really feel.
And he seems in just as much pain as I am, jaw always ticking as we wander around houses, like he’s holding back everything and nothing all at the same time.
Each showing ends the same—Cooper finding one imperfection with the place and asking if I know of anywhere else.
Part of me wonders if he’s truly dissatisfied or if it’s a roundabout way of spending more time with me.
We have another appointment in a few minutes, and I’m about ready to tell Sarah to take the lead on it.
It’s become more painful than exciting to see Cooper and help him pick a house he wants to start a family in.
The message light on my cell blinks, and my fingers slip off my drawer handle as I try to get some aspirin in me.
He’s early again. Always early.
It’s probably the only thing we have in common, aside from the fact that we’re absolutely and totally in love with each other.
I quickly toss back the Advil and wash it down while clacking a response to Cooper.
This better be the house he wants.
Then it’s very little face time until he signs everything.
“Maya?” Sarah pokes her head in so cautiously I wonder if she’s caught me crying or throwing things one too many times.
“Mr. Sterling’s here.”
I push my drawer shut.
“Feel like doing a showing for me?”
She humors me with a laugh, but she shakes her head and crosses the room.
Her hands clasp around my wrists, and she pulls with all her might to get my mopey butt out of my chair.
“Think Cabo,” she says, fixing my blazer.
“Warm sand and blue drinks and no drama.”
And no Cooper .
Ugh, now all my dreams of traveling and beaches involve not some random islander, but a particular blond-haired, blue-eyed hunk of a man with a solid gold heart.
I let out a long groan, and Sarah says, “No, no. We’re going to pull ourselves together.” She ignores my frowny face and reaches up to fix my hair and makeup.
Even if I didn’t know her, I’d know she was a mom with the way she handles me with equal amounts of tough love and concern.
A soft sting pokes at my stomach, and I chase away the jealousy before it overwhelms me .
“He’s just another client,” she says, adjusting my collar.
“He just wants to find a home. Help him out, and then it’s vacation and much needed R&R time.”
She’s right.
I’ll hand over keys and seal this puppy up and never see him again.
I’ll go back to fun and flings and dreams of traveling the world on my own.
And he can find his girl and have lots of babies and forget all about me.
Why does what I’ve always wanted sound so…
not me anymore?
I’m on the verge of a relapse, and I think I’ll fall face-first off the wagon into his lips if our professional relationship goes on much longer.
***
We’re standing outside a beaten-down mansion that—while still bigger than my house and my neighbor’s combined—is completely falling apart.
The previous owner’s must’ve taken a bat to the walls when the bank foreclosed, and there are wires hanging out everywhere, a floor missing in one of the bathrooms, and the basement is about ten percent finished while the other ninety is covered in spray paint.
“Thoughts?” Cooper stares at it with an interesting look on his face.
I take in a big ol’ breath and hold it, trying my best to figure out what angle he’s playing from.
“You still manage to surprise me.”
His lips pull up in an adorable grin, and he crosses his arms. “Well, maybe you have a point about building from the ground up.”
“You want to tear it down? Build on top of it? ”
He shakes his head.
“I was thinking more like marrying the two ideas.” He waves his arm out at the dilapidated house.
“I’ve got the foundation, great floor plan, and sweet view. Just needs a little bit of spit shine.”
“A lot a bit,” I say with a laugh, but it has a weird aftertaste on my tongue, like I shouldn’t be allowed to laugh with him anymore.
I can feel his gaze on me, the air between us growing thick and painful.
I purse my lips together, begging my words to stay professional, my hands to keep to themselves.
“I miss you,” he blurts, and I wish it sounded out of the blue.
I wish it didn’t make me miss not just him, but how he says however he feels whenever he feels it.
He lets out a breathless laugh, and I meet his gaze with a furrowed brow.
“Well, I made it twenty-seven days without letting that slip,” he says, and my heart flutters at the fact that he’s counting, too.
“A record for you.”
His hand twitches next to mine.
“Gah, woman. Don’t do that. Don’t be sexy and witty or I’ll get on my knees and beg you to reconsider.”
“Your definition of sexy is very skewed.”
He tosses his head back and growls at the sky.
“There you go again.”
I can’t look at him anymore.
I swear if I see those blue eyes and that gorgeous soul then I will crumble and fall into his arms and never leave the safety of them.
I keep my eyes fixed on the house and my thoughts on how sensible I’m being, even if my body is telling me I’m anything but sensible.
“Maya…”
“Don’t talk,” I blurt out, slamming my eyes shut and taking a deep breath.
“Don’t be so forward and blunt and charming or it’ll be just that much harder for me to walk away from you again.” I turn to him, watch the surprise swirling around in his irises morph into dwindling self-restraint.
“I’m a professional, damn it,” I say, my words strong, but the power behind them that of a baby mouse.
“I’m just helping you buy a house.”
He steps in front of me.
“True.”
“Our little detour into almost a relationship will just be a fun story we tell over future dinner dates with the people we’re meant to be with.”
He winces like I’ve slapped him but quickly shakes it off and takes another step into me.
His eyes drop to my lips, and I know he wants to kiss my babbling away.
I want him to want that enough to do it.
My fingers twitch at my sides, and my voice carries off into a whisper as I try again to convince him that I did the right thing.
“I’m only your realtor. I’m going to sell you this house, and then you won’t think about me again.”
His hand snakes up between us, his thumb brushing over my chin and his eyebrows pulling down.
“If you think I could forget you so easily, you’re crazier than I thought.”
I let out a shaky breath between us.
“Don’t kiss me.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not. ”
“What if I don’t care?”
My lips purse together, my heart beating to the rhythm of the most romantic and heartbreaking song in history.
I shake my head, unable to form words because the truth is, right now, I don’t care either.
But I will. I know I will.
I’ll let it go too far again and then I’ll have to tell the man I love that I can never ever give him what he wants.
I’d have to watch his soul completely crush to dust behind those eyes that can’t hide anything.
I’d live every minute with him wondering, worrying over if he wished he’d fallen in love with someone else.
His warm breath washes over me, clouding my mind, turning off my brain and turning on everything else, like little electric lights snapping and popping under my skin.
I move the smallest of centimeters toward him, enough of an invitation for him to take advantage of my moment of weakness.
His hands slide up to my cheeks, cupping my face and cradling me in a way I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much.
His mouth grazes mine, and I let out an involuntary moan, and then my ring tone cuts through my fuzzy thoughts.
I jolt away from Cooper’s lips, clutching at my heart and breathlessly laughing at the heat rushing through my cheeks.
He lets out a small laugh.
“Saved by the bell?”
A sigh floats off of my lips, and I reach for my phone.
Holland’s name flashes on the screen.
“I have to get this.”
He steps back, the air between us sobering me up like a bucket of ice water .
“Hey, what’s going on?” I ask into the phone.
Holland sniffs on the other end.
“Take me away, please? Can we just take off somewhere for at least the weekend? A week if you can. Maybe a month.”
“What happened?”
“I need time away, and Warren said he’ll let me go without a fight if you go with me. I’m going either way, but I’d rather not argue anymore. I’m tired of arguing.”
My teeth sneak out and pull at my lip, and I glance at Cooper, knowing that time away could be just the thing for me, too.
“When do you want to go?”
“As soon as humanly possible.”
“I’ll pick you up tonight.”
“Thank you, Maya.”
I slowly bring the phone down and tap the red hang up button.
There is a beat of silence before I flick my gaze up to Cooper, grateful he’s given me enough space to breathe air that isn’t filled with his scent.
“I have to run.”
He nods.
Looks back at the house.
“I want to offer on it.”
“How much?”
“Ten above asking.”
“I-I’ll draw it up and send it over tonight.”
He nods again, and we slowly head to our separate vehicles—his giant, muddy truck and my sparkly clean bug.
The moment is lost in the interruption, thank heavens.
I don’t think I’d be able to break it off with him again, no matter how right that decision is.
One time was hard enough.