Chapter 7

Cooper

Tulip Springfield is unlike any woman I’ve ever dated. Not that I’m dating her, I just mean that she’s different, special. I’ve been in this business since I was fifteen years old, and I’ve never really felt like anyone has liked me for me. Tulip though, despite her initial unwelcoming attitude, talks to me like I’m a normal person, teases me, takes the piss, is herself. That’s hard to find in my line of work.

Everyone has always wanted something. Whether that was my money, my fame, or just the knowledge they were dating a celebrity, it was always something. Even if it never seemed that way at first. Except looking back, it was all so obvious, so superficial, so surface level stuff. But Tulip, she’s different.

Some other women in her position would have jumped at the chance to save their farm, taken all the options I offered, probably even asked for more. But for her, she still feels bad about accepting a bloody lawnmower.

As I sit here in the passenger seat of her car, I can’t take my eyes off her. We spent most of the morning talking about the plans for this event, figured out a whole load of things before we took it to Blossom, convinced her, got her on board. And the thing that made me smile the most? The way Tulip lit up when Blossom said she was proud of her, for some of her ideas, for the plans we’d made. She’s a grown woman, capable, intelligent, and yet she still wants to make her big sister proud. It’s sweet.

The town of East Thelwell is pretty, full of old-world charm, cobblestone lined streets, and a surprisingly bustling high street. Especially for mid-afternoon on a weekday.

We’re here for supplies, and that list has grown considerably from me just wanting to stock my pod with a few bits and pieces. Now we’re here for tools and paints, and all manner of DIY paraphernalia.

“This could get a little messy,” I warn as two teenagers, obviously skipping school, ask me for a photo.

“I think you’ll find nobody here really cares who you are, they’ll just let you get on with it.”

And she’s right, we spend the next hour shopping, find everything we need, and arrange for our supplies to be delivered without a single interruption because of who I am. Tulip, however, gets stopped loads. Friendly locals all asking how she is, how they’re getting on, wishing her well.

I’m just telling her how much I really like it here, how she’s got a fantastic community who I’m sure are going to want to come out and support the farm, when there’s a shout from further along the street.

“Cooper, Cooper, over here. Is it true you’re the new face and body of Orion’s latest underwear range? Have you and Bunny Miller split? Did you leave her back in London because you fell in love out here in the country?”

Fuck. Paparazzi.

“I’m sorry, this is never good,” I say to Tulip as I ready myself for the onslaught of flashes and questions.

“This way, I know these streets, they don’t,” she replies, grabbing my hand.

Bobbing and weaving, we dart along the road, take a swift left turn alongside the church that stands at the end of the high street, and into a narrow alleyway. It’s quieter back here, peaceful, serene, and as we stand in silence, listening out for any trace of the handful of paparazzi that seem to have tracked me down, I’m aware of only one thing – Tulip’s fingers entwined with mine. She follows my gaze, realises she’s not let me go, and quickly pulls her hand away.

I miss it instantly.

There’s a shout, my name again, running footsteps, and I pull her against me, my arm around her as I position her between me and the wall. If we’re discovered, I want to keep her safe, protect her. We’re both still as statues, holding our breath, listening again. We’re so close and motionless that I can feel her heart crashing in her chest against my own, and when all is silent once more, I can’t help but just stay there and drink her in.

She reddens almost instantly when she notices I’m staring, dips her head from my gaze, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Is any of it true?” she whispers.

“Me and Bunny? We were never together. She was seen leaving my house a couple of times, but we were just running lines. Falling in love out here though, it’s a possibility … so much beauty. I mean, the countryside, nature, you know, all that.”

We still haven’t moved, still don’t. Hours could pass for all I know, because the only thing I can think about right now is how much I want to kiss her. She won’t look up, knows that if she does, we’ll be tethered again in a look. But I need her eyes on me, need to see if she’s feeling this heat.

There’s no resistance to my touch as I lift her chin. My heart skips all over the place, but the moment we lock eyes, I know I’ve not imagined the connection between us, the attraction, and I do the only thing I can – lean down to kiss her.

“We should make a move, lots to do,” she says suddenly, flustered, flushed.

I catch her hand as she moves away, hold onto her. “Tulip, I…”

She allows me to get close again before she speaks. “Let’s go, yeah?”

Her lips may say one thing, but the gentle brush of her thumb across the back of my hand tells a whole other story. She lets go then, steps away, and all I can do is follow, my ego a little dented, but certain body parts still humming with pleasure.

****

I’d like to say I’m not a little confused as I let Tulip in at just gone midnight, but I’d be lying. The timid tap on the door, the lack of eye contact, the hesitant way she steps inside – it’s the softer side of her for sure. The same side that caressed the back of my hand in that alleyway earlier today.

She was similar during dinner, not off with me or anything, she spoke, laughed, joined in, it’s just there were furtive glances up at me, her face flushed, and not from the spicy chicken wings Blossom served up.

All of which is why I’m confused. I’ve known her less than forty-eight hours and this thing between us is bizarre. I’ve never felt such an instant connection to anyone before, never wanted to spend time with or talk to anyone like I do her. Even despite her prickly outer when we first met, after the thaw, having gotten to know her a little, I just can’t stop thinking about her. I want to protect her, help her, make everything in her life perfect. It’s all a bit overwhelming.

I sense she feels it too, which is why the switch from ballsy and confrontational, to shy and quiet. Not because she’s trying to impress me or change who she is, simply because she doesn’t know how to deal with it. I’m lost too. I genuinely thought she hated me at first, and even if there’s this attraction now, I still don’t think she’d allow herself to act on it. And acting on it is all I want to do.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” I say as I close the door behind her.

“I wasn’t expecting to come.”

Did she have to mention coming? Now, in my head, I’ve just marched across the room, taken her mouth with mine, undressed her, and am on my knees between her legs as I make her come over and over.

And now I’m sporting a semi. Spectacular way to scare her off, Coop.

“Why did you?”

Fuck, that came out rather more growly than I meant.

“Sorry, I’ll go,” she says, taking a step back towards the door, a crease appearing on her delicate forehead.

Shit. That’s not what I want at all. Although maybe she should go, maybe it would be better for both of us. We’re like kindling on our own private fire, just waiting to catch light and go up in flames.

“Tulip, wait,” I say as I manage to get my act together. “I didn’t mean for you to go.”

Suddenly there’s a flash of the other Tulip, the one she clearly uses to protect herself. I see it spark to life behind her eyes, a deep burn she has complete control over. But I don’t, my control is right on the edge, and this could be the thing to set us on fire.

“Sounded like you did. Sorry I bothered you. Clearly, I was wrong about us.”

Dark hair flicked over her shoulder, she stomps back towards the door. Problem is, it puts her coming right at me. And my head is spinning from the ‘wrong about us’ comment.

She steps left. I step left. She goes right. I go right. All the while, my eyes never leave her.

“Move,” she hisses.

“When you said ‘wrong about us,’ what did you mean?”

That stops her. Chest rising and falling rapidly, bottom lip chewed over and over, her eyes dropping to my lips, then away.

I shouldn’t do it, wouldn’t usually, not with someone I don’t know well, with someone I’ve only known a short time, but Tulip Springfield undoes me like nobody else. One step forward and my hand snakes around her waist, pulls her to me. And then I take her mouth.

Seconds. That’s all it takes for her to kiss me back. And she deepens it, takes my shirt in her fist, pulls me closer. And fuck, she can kiss. It’s like the sweetest hit of sugar, intoxicating, stimulating, and I can’t get enough. I’m instantly possessive, my hand finding bare skin under her top as I move my kisses to her neck, every movement fuelled by the pants and whimpers they elicit.

The moment she pulls at my shirt, I take it off and watch her drink me in as she palms my chest, fingers trailing over my stomach until she reaches my waistband. And hesitates.

A look up, lips parted, and I know it wasn’t a hesitation of indecision. It’s a breather, a check-in, a wait for permission. And with a nod I give it to her, let my head fall back with a moan as she slides my zipper down and slips a hand into my underwear.

I can’t stop, don’t want to stop, but I do need to move from here before she makes me come from those slim fingers wrapped around my shaft. I need to take her to bed. Fuck. But the way she touches me, it makes my legs weak.

“Bed,” I breathe as I lift her.

The way her legs wrap instinctively around me is heaven, how she bites my bottom lip as we continue kissing for the few short steps to the bed though, that’s pure fire.

Hands grab, pull, and discard clothes as I set her down, both of us with growing urgency until finally there’s nothing between us and we fall onto the bed.

I want all of her, can’t stop myself from trailing kisses down her body, teeth grazing a nipple, a hip, taking a hit of her wetness before I move over her once more.

She’s all soft eyes as she waits for me to fumble on the floor and retrieve my wallet from my jeans. Fuck, I hope there’s still a condom in there. And with two of the little fellas answering my prayer, I slip one on, push against her, coat myself with her wetness.

“You sure?” I ask.

Her reply comes in kisses, an arched back, a long moan as again I rub against her.

“Words, Tulip, I need words.”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

That’s all I need, and as urges take over, as heat spreads throughout my body and need builds, I slide into her, both of us lost to it in seconds.