Chapter 16

chapter

sixteen

Harmony

I'm still shivering at the "good girl" comment when Cooper takes the bottle of bourbon from my hands and opens it.

The slight strain as he unscrews the top makes that one sexy cord pop out at the base of his neck…the one I want to lick.

I know he meant nothing by the good girl thing, but it makes me feel wet and excited.

Everything that comes out of Cooper's mouth arouses me.

Especially that tongue.

He sniffs from the bottle while I scoop out the dessert.

"Huffing Jack now? It's not a vintage pinot," I joke, sinking a spoon into the frozen stuff.

"There's quality in it just like you find with wine. Smell that?"

I pause my work and inhale as he waves the bottle under my nose.

"Toasty. And kind of caramel," I say.

"You can taste the love," he says.

"Maybe you can help me pick the right one for this recipe," I say, reaching over to touch his hand that rests on the kitchen island."

Heat arcs through me.

In the dark, I can feel him staring at me.

"Let's try this and see how it goes," he says.

"How much bourbon?"

I shrug. "I don't know, let's just do a little at a time until it tastes right."

Even in the dark, I feel Cooper's heated glance as he drizzles a few ounces over the crystallized, peachy surface, melding with the crumbly bits of cobbler and making a sort of runny caramel.

"Little by little is perfect for me," he says.

My nipples tighten. Oh lord, he's going to be the end of me.

Is now a good time to talk about what we did?

He grabs two spoons, hoists the bucket with the opposite hand, and we move into the living room.

We're seated close together on the sofa surrounded by moving boxes with sports highlights muted on the TV. A camping lantern in the corner flickers.

There's something strangely romantic about this moment. I've never felt at ease being alone with a guy in a romantic setting, not since my jerk fiancé wrecked my life.

We sit cross-legged on the sofa, facing each other.

"You first," I say, patting his knee. "I need an objective opinion before I try it."

He gives a raspy laugh that sends a tingle shooting through my core. "I could hardly be unbiased. It's your recipe and I'm sure it's great."

Cooper MacKenzie really is one of a kind. Apart from my sister, he is my biggest cheerleader.

"You make a great hype man," I say, watching him take a spoonful of the stuff we made together.

I wait for his assessment, but he's silent for a long moment.

He takes another spoonful, his brows knit together in the shadowy room, as the light from the TV plays off the planes and ridges of his strong jaw and cheekbones. Truly this man is too good-looking. It's unfair.

"Well? How is it?"

His dark eyes assess me, and he fills the spoon again.

"Harmony, this is incredible," he says, swallowing it down.

I exhale. "It is?"

He nods. "It's sweet and salty, the heat from the cinnamon and the bourbon…it's amazing. It's your best one yet."

"Really?" I'm so pleased, but I have to temper my excitement. "You're not just saying that?"

"Sweetheart," he says. "Try it."

The spoon hovers in front of my mouth. I lean in and take it in, letting the frozen peachy goodness slide down my throat. The butter, the cinnamon, the fruity flavor combined with the bourbon was an excellent idea.

"Oh my gosh. It is good. And I don't even like whiskey," I say with my mouth full.

He laughs and we take more bites, neither of us addressing the fact that we're sharing the same spoon.

"How did you come up with this if you don't like whiskey?" Cooper asks.

Now it's time to fess up. "I wanted to come up with something you would like."

"Me? Specifically? Why?"

My entire body hums as if plugged into a socket until I admit the truth. "Because I like you, Cooper. As…more than a friend."

He looks at me for a long time.

Then, he takes the bucket of fro-yo and sets it on the coffee table.

He turns away, and my heart drops. Then, I see he's taken the bottle and poured a shot into the shot glass, full to the brim.

He downs the shot. "That's better. Now you, and then we'll talk," he says, pouring another.

"Oh, but I don't like?—"

"So you said. Just try it."

I take the shot glass from him and sniff it, then sip it. It burns but not as intense as the last time I tried bourbon. I suppose my recipe has prepared me for the taste and the bite of it.

I roll it around in my mouth as one does with wine, and I can finally see a small glimmer of what Cooper sees in it.

"It's so strong. It's an acquired taste. I guess I like it mixed with sweet things," I say.

"You put filthy thoughts into my head, Harmony."

I shiver. "What kind of filthy thoughts?"

"Like finding out what you taste like," he says.

I lean in closer. Now that we're talking about us, I feel like a weight has been lifted. I feel brave.

Cooper reaches forward and cups my neck, holding me there while he presses his lips to mine.

The kiss is slow and hot, all tongue and masculine energy.

I reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material to pull him in closer.

His tongue slides into my mouth, and I welcome it. The movement of our tongues against each other is thrilling and heady.

I could get addicted to the way he kisses. Long and deep and thorough. Cooper MacKenzie is not a shy man, not in personality and not in the way he kisses.

I get so carried away that I moan into his mouth.

Cooper responds by sliding his fingers up from the back of my neck. Gently, he fists my hair.

The move shocks me, and I pull away, breaking the kiss.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm not used to that…with my hair."

Immediately, he lets go. "Better?"

I nod. "I didn't dislike it. It's just new. I didn't know what to think."

Cooper's thumb traces along the edge of my jaw, slowly. "I won't do that with your hair until you say it's okay."

The word "until" is doing a lot of heavy lifting right now.

"Does that mean this is a thing that we're doing now? The two of us together? I'm not too…inexperienced for you?"

His brow knits together. "What do you mean inexperienced? Weren't you engaged two years ago?"

I nod slowly. "My ex wasn't a passionate man like you, Cooper. We never had sex outside, for starters. He never kissed me like you do."

"Like, with tongue?"

I laugh. "I just mean he wasn't as exciting as you."

His traveling thumb goes to my lip. "A man who doesn't know how to use his tongue is a sad, sad man."

I laugh and cover my mouth.

"Sorry," he says. "The whiskey's gone to my head."

"Which head?" I say and immediately cover my mouth again. I can't believe I said that.

Cooper throws his head back and laughs out loud, deep and rich, giving me the urge to crawl into his lap.

"No one ever accused me of whiskey dick, so don't even go there," he says.

"I don't normally talk like that," I say.

"I know that, baby. I know you better than you think I do," he says.

"I don't know what got into me," I say, still chuckling. "I'm sorry."

"What else did he not know how to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"If he was a bad kisser, that's not a good sign for other things."

"Oh. You mean oral," I say matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. That."

"He never wanted to try that."

"Oddly enough that's how he got caught cheating. The woman he cheated on me with posted a video—nothing gross—but of the two of them in bed. I was so hurt and so weirded out that I never dated or felt like trusting another guy, not even as a friend. Until I met you."

"So you're telling me no guy has ever gone down on you before."

I shake my head.

"Can I ask…did he ever make you orgasm?"

"No."

"Tell me again why you were engaged?"

I have to laugh. "I ask myself that same question often."

He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. "What if I told you I aim to spend the rest of the night erasing that jerk from your memory completely.?"

The quivering in my belly is real. My voice cracks as I answer.

"I would say yes to that. Yes, please and thank you."