I stop, covering my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. Cooper’s standing behind the counter with a muffin in his hand. Speaking to a girl, he says, “Trust me, it’s better than the croissant.”
“I wanted the chocolate croissant,” she insists, whining, reminding me of Veruca Salt in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I expect her to stamp her foot for emphasis. She doesn’t, fortunately.
Cooper grins. “This blueberry muffin won’t disappoint. I promise.”
She stammers and then sighs, batting her eyelashes. I get it, girl. I totally get it. “Fine, blueberry it is. How much?”
Lou stands. “I don’t think you should be behind the counter.”
Rushing forward, I say, “It’s okay, Lou. Thanks.” I go to the register. Lou hesitates and then returns to his table. I eye the to-go cup on the counter in front of her. “Is that coffee or tea?”
“Americano and a muffin,” Cooper replies.
My eyebrows rise in surprise. “I’m impressed.” His talents extend further than his coffee skills.
There’s no amusement in his eyes, but he smiles, putting on a front like there is. “People always underestimate me.”
His words sink in, but it’s the sadness clouding his usually bright eyes that have me feeling guilty as charged. I want to take it away while making sure his happiness returns.
Two days.
Impossible.
How could I feel so much for someone I met only two days ago?
I reach up and run the tips of my fingers along his jaw and then caress him like he touches me. He turns and kisses my palm. The light returns to his eyes, and a small grin along with it.
That’s when I know.
I didn’t underestimate him. I underestimated the storm. It didn’t just bring the rain with it. It brought Cooper Haywood to my door.
12
Story
Tucking the keys into the bag at my hip, I step down to the sidewalk to join Cooper, who’s been quietly waiting for me to lock up for the night. The night air is cool but bearable without all the winter accessories. “It turned out to be a pretty day,” I say, making small talk.
“It did.”
Still, a chill decides to run up my spine. Reaching between us, he takes my hand.
Our fingers wrap around each other’s, and we walk without acknowledging the elephant, the third wheel in our relationship. Relationship? Is that what we’re in now?
I don’t think it’s ever happened so easily. It just slipped on like a pair of favorite cozy slippers and felt so right from the beginning.
Granted, I’ve not had many, so I may not be the right one to judge these things. Nevertheless, I like this—his hand wrapped so reassuringly around mine like I didn’t have a meltdown earlier inside the shop from a little glass. “You know, I think we should just talk about this and get it over with.” I have other issues that will probably scare him away, so I’m hoping this won’t be one of them.
“What’s that?” he asks.
I’m tempted to roll my eyes, but I shouldn’t when he’s only being polite. He’s not pushed me for answers or to explain. That means a lot to me when it comes to this . . . situation . . . incident? I’m not sure what to call it anymore. It’s morphed from reality to a nightmare to a past I’ve tried to forget. The only issue is it tends to occasionally come back to haunt me. Not in a long time, but last summer didn’t do me any service.
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, breathing out any fear of judgment that I think he might have. “I’m not trying to freak you out or anything—”
“With a starter like that, I’m kind of freaked out.”
“I know.” I chuckle, understanding more than he realizes. “This is why I try not to bring it up, but after what happened, I owe you an explanation.”
He stops and moves in front of me. In the middle of the sidewalk, he takes my hands. “You actually don’t owe me anything, Story. You don’t owe anyone anything that you don’t want to share. So if you want to tell me what that was about, I’m here. I’m listening. If you want to pretend it didn’t happen, I’ll respect that. But just know that anything you do share with me stays with me.”
“I’m starting to believe you’re too perfect. Understanding. A good listener.” I shrug, rolling my hand in front of me, knowing this list goes on longer than the few traits I’m listing. “Hot and a great kisser.” Taking hold of the front of his coat, I pull him closer and lift on my toes to kiss him. It doesn’t matter the weather. My body heats the moment our lips touch.
When we part, I lick my lips and then rub them together, still craving the taste of him. Cooper says, “I will do everything in my power to keep my flaws hidden if I keep getting kisses like that from you.”