The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville 1)

“Hi,” he says in this low, delicious, grumbly way. “How long do we have until you have to get back?”

“A few hours.”

He lifts a brow, his smile turning devilish. Maybe Jessie was right about how little furniture we would actually end up putting together. “Hmm, well, we’re going to have to get to it, because we have a lot of work to do in the bedroom.”

Cooper bends down and hauls me up over his shoulder like a brute. I love it. I especially love the view of his back as he carries me through his living room and down the hall. My stomach is buzzing with nerves, and I’m anticipating a lovely evening—until Cooper finally sets me down and makes a sweeping gesture with his hands toward the frightening number of boxes stacked against the walls in his room.

That’s when I remember the extent of my late-night shopping spree. Cooper told me he was ready to commit to furniture but wanted me to pick it all out for him. The gesture was not lost on me since he once told me he would wait until he’d found the woman he wanted to marry to make all the big purchases, and oh boy did I! I don’t think he meant to buy everything for the house at once, but that’s on him. He should have been more specific.

I make a hissing sound and turn my eyes to a glowering Cooper. He folds his arms, which is really unfair of him because it makes his biceps bulge out and the sexy veins in his forearms pop, but judging by the look on his face, it would be ill-advised to touch him at this moment. Or maybe it would be the perfect time to touch him?

“So…just to be clear, you actually meant we have work to do back here?” I say, pouting.

He shakes his head slowly like a disappointed parent. “I thought you were ordering a few things for each room.”

“Well, it started that way.” I take a step away from his grumpy look and bump into a box. “But then I saw a lamp I thought you would really love and would go great with your wall color…which then reminded me that you didn’t have a bedside table, so naturally I had to order you one.”

“Naturally. So where does the…” He trails off to read the tall slender box in front of him. “…faux fiddle leaf fig with matte blush planter come into play?”

I widen my eyes like he’s absolutely stupid for not seeing the answer on his own. “Once we get the new drapes hung on this side and put your new dresser over here, that corner would have looked ridiculously bare.” I put my hands on my hips and lift a brow. “You don’t want to look ridiculous, do you?”

“Tell me now, woman—are you a compulsive shopper?”

“No, but I just couldn’t stand how empty it was in here—and I already know you make tons of money, so you’re not hurting from the extra expense. I hated the thought of you living in here all by yourself with no furniture or things to make it a home. Don’t be mad. Are you mad?”

He takes a step closer. And then another. His hands drop to his sides, and his head tilts as he takes yet another step forward. His hand flexes like the sexiest scene ever filmed (aka the Darcy hand flex from Pride and Prejudice…you know what I’m talking about) and the room heats to 80 million degrees. My skin is ready to melt off my bones from the intense look he’s giving me.

When he gets close enough to touch me, he stops. I can feel the heat rolling off his chiseled chest like waves, and I imagine if I were wearing thermal goggles, he would look like a ball of fire. I want to place my hand in the center of his abs and burn.

He leans down, and I tilt my head back, exposing my neck, ready for my favorite trail of kisses. Instead, his lips brush, soft as a paintbrush, all the way up my neck, barely touching, so he can whisper against my ear, “Until all of this is put together, no kisses for you, Miss Shopaholic.”

My mouth falls open as I watch Cooper’s retreating back. “Ugh! You’re kidding, right?”

He smirks at me over his shoulder. “Afraid not. You order, you assemble. Get to work, Bob the Builder.”

“But where are you going?”

“To put together my new dining room table and EIGHT matching chairs for my imaginary giant family.”

“WHICH YOU LOVE, RIGHT?!” I yell because stupid Cooper has already left the room.

Frankly, I think he’s being ungrateful of my very thorough design services. Then again, as I look around the room and sigh, this does look like a lot.

An hour later, Cooper comes to find me. I’m lying on the floor, holding my phone above my head, watching TikTok dance videos, and when I spot him, I chuck it across the room and pretend to be tinkering with something under the bed. “AH—there we go. Much better.”

He stands above me. “Whatcha doing?”

I slap my hand against the bottom of the bed. “Oh, you know, just tending to a few other things while I’m here. I noticed your bed screws were loose, so I thought I’d give them a little tightening.”

“With your bare hands?”

“Don’t be jealous of my strength.”

He glances around the room. “Lucy, it’s been an hour.”

“And?”

“You put together the lamp.”