Chapter 21
Mae
I’m in too deep. I can feel myself getting attached to him. Cooper is too good to be true. There has to be something wrong with him, right? No one is that perfect.
He’s right, we’re both holding back. I may have told him some of my story, but he hasn’t been entirely forthcoming with his.
I understand Naomi’s mother isn’t in the picture, but if this turns into something real, how do I fit into that? It’s too early to ask that question, and yet it needs to be answered.
The last thing I want to do is make Naomi feel like she is being put to the side because I’m there to take her place.
Though we both fit into two different categories, she’s had Cooper all to herself for her whole life.
Who am I to change that? I’m here for a year.
I have no business shaking her foundation for temporary.
Which brings me to the fear of having feelings for Cooper.
My past of being burned and forgotten continues to rear its ugly head.
What’s the point in diving in with him when it’s a short-term thing?
I’m not that girl. I don’t want to be here for a good time and not a long time.
I know I’m not here for a long time. I will have to go back to Colorado. Mom needs me.
The summer air breezes through my windows, blowing my hair all over the place, but I don’t care.
Today was a rough day at the shop. I didn’t have a single sale, and still haven’t made calls from my list of wedding venues.
I think a part of me is afraid of the rejection because if they say no, then I don’t see a way out of this hole, and the subsequent disappointment my aunt will have.
It also doesn’t help that my boss sent me another project, and this one is going to take a while.
I have to put my forensic hat on and start digging through this corporation’s books to find where all of their money is going because it doesn’t add up.
And I have to mow the grass today. Uncle Leo showed me how to use the zero turn riding mower, but I’m afraid I’ll throw myself off of it going too fast because I looked up videos on how to operate it better and of course found the videos of everyone using it the wrong way or accidents where people flip it or actually fling themselves off.
At this rate, I’ll be moving so slowly I won’t finish until midnight.
Turning onto the gravel driveway, I stop at the mailbox and get the stack before crawling up the hill to my longer day.
Gravel pops off my car, and I sigh coming up the hill as the smell of fresh cut grass wafts into my face.
What in the world?
Cooper’s truck is parked next to the barn, and I see him across the large yard, mowing my lawn.
Tears brim in my eyes at the relief and thoughtfulness of this man.
I go into the house and make him some lemonade and wait out on the porch for him to make his way back towards me.
He must have been out here for a couple hours. My aunt and uncle have quite a few acres. Not all of it is mowed, but a large area around the house and barn is.
Eventually, Cooper rides this way, moving too fast for comfort, and comes to a stop next to the house.
“Howdy,” he says with a smile on his face and his baseball hat pulled low. He’s covered in grass and looks genuinely happy to see me.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
Cooper shrugs. “You mentioned it and I came by to see if you got to it, found you didn’t, so I thought I’d help you out.”
“I made you lemonade,” I say in a watery voice because the tears are about to break through the dam and I feel beyond stupid crying over cutting grass.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, brows drawn together as he leaps off the mower and pulls me into his arms.
“How do you have time to mow my lawn, and take care of Naomi, and be a cowboy?” I ask into his shirt that smells like sweat, grass, and man.
Cooper chuckles and takes the glass of lemonade.
He downs it and makes a sound. “This is awesome, and to answer your question, when I was done being a cowboy, as you put it, I went to get Naomi, but a neighbor girl was over, and they we’re playing so I came over here while Aunt Dixie watched the girls.
I guess she set up the playdate, and I probably forgot. So that’s why.”
I take a step back and really look at him in his cut-off t-shirt, Wranglers, and his cowboy boots.
“Did I make you cry because I mowed the lawn?” he asks.
I snort and wipe my face. “No, I’m crying because I don’t have to, and it’s a relief.”
He snorts and takes another sip of lemonade.
“Why is this so much better than any other lemonade I’ve had?” he asks.
“Italian lemons,” I sigh.
He inspects the glass like he can see the difference in the lemon juice.
“How can I thank you?” I ask him.
Cooper grins widely and wiggles his eyebrows.
I almost say, that won’t happen, but then he surprises me, as he usually does.
“You can tell me if you’ve thought anymore about throwing caution to the wind.”
I sigh and sit on the bench. “Have you always been this persistent?” I ask him.
“Only for the things I want. But I think you already know that.”
I nod absently. But if I’ve learned anything over the years. It’s that I have to protect my heart, especially as it is now.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” I ask him. I was planning on leftovers, but I’m sure I could figure something out. It’s the least I can do.
“Let me call home to check, but I’m sure that would be fine.”
He dials his aunt, spinning his baseball hat backward before lifting the phone to his ear.
Oh boy.
He kicks at the gravel, and I stare at his bare arms and round butt.
The man is a specimen. There is no other word for it.
His body looks built and roughened from work — I know his hands are.
He’s lean, not too beefy, and I can’t stop looking at him.
His hair pokes out the back of his hat, and that mustache originally wasn’t attractive to me, but now?
Now, I can’t stop looking at it and replaying every time it’s brushed across my skin.
I was surprised how much I liked the way it feels.
“Keep staring at me like that and I might get ideas, stubborn.”
I glance up at him, as the sun shinning on his sweaty face. “Did you just call me stubborn?”
He grins widely. “It fits, doesn’t it?”
I purse my lips and narrow my eyes.
“You know it does,” he says on a laugh.
“What did Dixie say?” I ask him, ignoring the silly, yet unfortunately fitting nickname.
“She said the girls are in their own little world and to take all the time I need. But I need to be home before bedtime.”
“It’s five now.”
“So that means we have three hours,” he says, taking a step toward me.
“Well, I better get to making dinner then.”
“I’ll help, but are you sure? You don’t have other things to do? I really just came out here to help you with this.”
I stare at him a little longer and feel my wall cracking. “Yes, I’m sure.”
His eyes zip around my face until he says, “Sounds good, let me get this mower put away.”
Cooper spins his hat back around his head and hops on the mower to drive it back up to the barn.
Rummaging through the fridge, I look around for what I can pull together for dinner. I haven’t had a chance to run to TJ’s, so the pickings are slim. But I have cheese, sauce, and some frozen sausage I can thaw pretty fast. Pizza it is.
Glancing out the window for Cooper, I stop and take a deep breath.
What are you doing, Mae?
Digging yourself a deeper emotional hole you’re not sure you can get out of? Right?
Cool.
This is totally and absolutely fine.
I’ve been looking for this feeling my entire life, and I wasn’t sure if I was making it up in my head all along.
Part of me is so frustrated that I could have found it in a place I’m not staying.
So then does it make it right at all? Does it make it a waste of everyone’s time?
My first answer is yes. But the part I’ve buried deep, that wants what I’ve come to believe may not be possible for me, feels like a dangerous hope. It’s risky. It will probably fail, but…
The but says it all.
It makes me want to hold on to this hope with delicate, gentle hands because it could break at any moment. It’s far too presumptive to think Cooper is the one. But in my hope against hope. What if he is?
And if I don’t give what is toe-curling chemistry between us a chance, then am I not the same as those who didn’t give me a fair chance? It either makes me a hypocrite or a coward. I’m split between my commitment to my parents and yearning for a life of my own.
“I’m pretty sure I see steam coming out of your ears,” Cooper says, bringing me out of my spiraling mind and straight into his captivating green eyes.
“Hmm?”
He chuckles. “Are you okay?” he asks slowly.
I smile and nod, going back to the frozen sausage I need to thaw.
His hand comes around my waist and pulls me back into his chest. “I’m sorry I’m sweaty,” he says.
“I don’t mind,” I mumble unwrapping the package.
“So what’s for dinner?” he asks, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Pizza, I hope that’s okay. I don’t have a lot left in the fridge.”
“I’m probably the least picky person on the planet,” he says.
I smile and step out of his arms, dropping the frozen sausage in the microwave.
“What can I do?” he asks.
“Make the dough?” I suggest.
“Okay, tell me how to do that.”
I laugh and grab a bowl with the ingredients we need. After walking him through what to measure, he kneads the dough with his large hands. His thick fingers dig into the dough, and in the background the microwave dings, but I don’t fully register it, too focused on his hands.
“You’ve got that look on your face again, stubborn.”
I roll my eyes and break the trance with his hands, to cook up the sausage in the skillet.
Cooper gets the dough rising and starts on shredding the cheese while I finish browning the sausage.
“What’s next?” he asks.
I glance at the clock. “We need to wait at least another thirty for the dough to rise.”