For fox sake. I wasn’t as prepared as I thought.
“Let me help.” He came to grab the other two boxes. “Then I can take you on a tour.”
“I never knew you lived in paradise.” I looked at the forest of trees lining the driveway.
“I told you it’s different in person. I always wanted open skies and endless green. But wild, not manicured,” he clarified, and I didn’t miss the edge to his tone. There was no doubt he was referring to the monstrosity of a mansion he grew up in with his immaculate lawns and opulent castle-esque feel. This was far quainter, the house hugged by the surroundings, rather than pushing them aside.
“I need to see the kitchen,” I sighed, already knowing it was going to be everything I could have imagined.
“Come on, let’s put these in your room then.” He took the box from my hands, placing it on top of the other two, effortlessly lifting all three and I tried not to look at the way his back muscles pulled. The gold and black elastic of his briefs contrasted deliciously against the colour of his toned skin.
Something else you shouldn’t be noticing, I reminded myself.
I also definitely hadn’t noticed the lining of hair which moved down his stomach, disappearing beneath his waistband, or the way his face was lined with stubble which hadn’t been there the last time I saw him. All of those were not things I internally photographed or would look at again.
Definitely not.
Sheesh.
Stepping into the house, I gasped, unexpectedly impressed by the sheer beauty. The floorboards were glossed to perfection, the earthy feels of the woodgrain blending seamlessly with the surroundings. A smaller living area greeted me, a quiet space with a lounge, a television and an eclectic line of various bottles filled with amber liquid. A long hallway stretched ahead, lined with doors on either side. Coop gestured as we passed, explaining they were a junk room, the bathroom, and a spare room. Then hepaused at the last door and motioned for me to go first into what he said was my room. While the house itself wasn’t too big, this room was huge, with an adjoining ensuite and enough room to do cartwheels - if I wanted.
Which I obviously didn’t, but the space was there.
Spinning, I took a deep breath and smiled. It smelt like him - something else I was desperate not to notice.
“Wait. Is this the master bedroom?” I asked, turning away before my gaze lingered on the way his pants pulled taut across a firm looking backside as he lowered the boxes onto the floor.
“Yep,” he replied, a smile ghosting his face.
“What? Why? Isn’t this your room? Where will you sleep? Why would you give me your room?” I shot out in rapid succession, taking a large breath and instantly regretting it when the smell of leather and spice encased my lungs. If anything, the scent of Cooper Dane had only intensified as he got older and now, it was my kryptonite. I was going to need to invest in some nose plugs at this rate.
He leant casually against the wall like a damn model, the picture of calm with his arms folded across his still very much bare chest, one foot crossed over the other, exuding effortless self-assuredness. The knowing smile he was sending me sent a soft flutter through my stomach and I suppressed a groan.
Visibly crossing myself, I called on all the Hail Marys I could to give me the strength to resist lunging at him.
For frick sake. Leave some room for the rest of us regular folk.
“I spend most of my time at the distillery. Plus, if my parents stop by you need to have your things in here.” The confidence in his demeanour told me he knew the effect he had on people and the mild arrogance only made him sexier.
“Is that something they do often?” I asked, suddenly panicking at the idea of them arriving when I was here on my own. I didn’t have a great deal of memories of them but from those few I could recall, they were not the kind of people I would voluntarily spend time with.
“Not generally, no. But they have invited themselves over fora beveragein a couple of weeks,” he sighed heavily through his nose.
“A beverage?”
“Their pomposity knows no bounds. But it’s better than a meal, trust me. A meal means an unlimited amount of time. A beverage means my old man will have anything other than scotch and Ma will want a wine – which she will bring herself.”
“What do you mean?” I pressed.
“You’re going to have to be more specific with which part you want clarified,” he said with a laugh, before yanking me by the hand and leading me further into the house. I didn’t immediately remove my hand from his grasp, enjoying the way he linked our fingers as if it were an entirely normal move.
“So will we need to act like a coup-” My question was extinguished when we entered the most beautiful kitchen I’d ever stepped foot inside.
“Eeeeeek.” I clapped with renewed excitement. This was more than I ever could have hoped. “It’s incredible.” With the ideal amount of bench space, it was the perfect size and most importantly the oven was huge, meaning it was a home bakers heaven.
“I assume that means the kitchen meets your expectations?”
“Yes!” I squeaked. “It’s perfect. And I can definitely fake marry you if it means I can use it.” I stepped back and looked out over the deck and into a verdant canopy of towering trees. “While looking at this,” a gentle exhale of pure admiration escaped my lips as I took in the view.
