Chapter 18

chapter

eighteen

Harmony

"Too much…too much!"

My words fall out in choked sobs, so it's no wonder that Cooper looks worried.

"Baby. Did I hurt you?"

I shake my head.

"Talk to me; what's going on?"

I wouldn't know where to start.

I don't recognize this feeling.

I've never come this many times in a row, but I don't think that's it.

I've never had anyone pay this much attention, or care this much about me during an intimate moment.

Before I understand what's happening, Cooper positions my arms around his neck and scoops me into his lap.

"Talk to me."

And that's when I start to shake and tremble. It begins with my chin.

"Ah, shit. I did hurt you."

This big lug. This wonderful, sweet, big lug has no idea what he's talking about.

"No," I rasp, silently cursing the tear that falls.

"You didn't hurt me."

It's not lost on me how weird this looks. I'm naked from the waist down like Winnie the Pooh, sticky and thrumming from everything Cooper just did to me. I'm completely vulnerable in his lap.

The trembling moves to my shoulders. And the tears fall. His thumb rubs against my cheekbone.

"Goddamn it, tell me. Did the whiskey leave a burn?"

I shake my head.

He waits for a beat and says nothing; he simply brushes and kisses away my tears and waits for them to pass.

The next thing I know, I'm airborne as he rises from the sofa with one arm hooked under my knees.

This does something of a reset and I forget my tears. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the shower to clean you up."

"Oh," is all I say.

The simplicity of the bathroom hits me with another fact. White tile, basic shower. All tidy and modern but nothing fancy.

Much smaller and plainer than the mansion in Gold Hill.

He moved here for me.

I don't want to let myself be moved by that fact.

He turns on the spray, and I kick off the leggings that have rolled down around my ankles.

Cooper stands there, keeping one hand on my hip to steady me because I know he's not sure I'm okay. But he looks away, to give me privacy.

God, he's so sweet.

"Cooper, after what we just did, you're entitled to look," I say, blushing.

His jaw tics as he looks at me. "Don't say shit like that. I'm not entitled to anything that belongs to you, including your privacy. I'll let you get cleaned up."

He lets go of my hip, and I reach out and seize his hand.

"Stay."

Cooper turns back to me. "You want me to wait in here for you?"

I blink up at him, slowly. "I want you to take off your clothes and get in the shower with me."

Steam pours out of the shower stall as Cooper unbuttons his shirt and drops it to the floor. He pulls the henley off over his head, revealing the gorgeous bare torso that's become a familiar sight each morning when I gaze out my kitchen window.

Brazenly, I watch him unzip and lower his jeans and boxer briefs, his thick cock red and erect, with a long vein branching up the underside.

It's about as big as I pictured it, though I hadn't gotten a good look at it this morning.

He catches me staring.

"All good?"

I bite my lip. "Very good. You?"

His gaze is heated as it takes in all of me.

I take his hand and step into the shower.

Sweetly, lovingly, Cooper takes a fresh loofah and applies some incredible-smelling scent to it. Then he caresses it over my arms, my shoulder and upper back.

"Tell me if it's too much pressure," he says.

I know Cooper pretty well. If I inform him that he doesn't have to wash me, he will get more stubborn.

So I don't bother. "It's perfect," I say.

With a touching amount of care and attention, Cooper rubs the loofah over my stomach, my hips, my ass, and the front of my pussy and thighs.

"Hmm," he says, thoughtfully. "Turn around."

I do as he says, and I let him pull me back until my back is flat against his. It feels good to lean on someone. It feels especially good that Cooper is that someone.

His hand holding the loofah cleans my breasts and my stomach and my lower belly.

I feel him everywhere. Behind me, over me, his hands washing my front, his lips at my shoulder, his other arm locked around me, bracing me against him.

I feel so comfortable that I let it all out.

He reaches down and scrubs my lower belly, then lower, and lower still.

"No one's ever been this…into it with me," I say.

"Into what?" Cooper says.

"It. Sex. With me."

"You've had sex before."

"Yeah, but with you it feels so different. That's why I cried."

A long pause hangs there while Cooper washes and rinses between my legs.

"Different…in a good way?" Cooper asks.

Sweet, clueless Cooper.

"Yes, in a good way." He's pushing me to say things I don't want to admit.

"It's never. No one has ever…had this much sustained interest in me before. Sex has always been wham, bam, thank you ma'am. It's been something we get out of the way because we have our needs. But that's not you," I say. "And that's why I cried."

Cooper says nothing for a long moment, but continues to clean me.

The Harmony of six weeks ago would feel uncomfortably vulnerable right now. She might feel like she was being treated like a toy or a child.

But nothing could be further from the truth when I'm around Cooper.

He sweeps the sudsy loofah over my middle and kisses my damp shoulder.

"If it seems like I'm into you, it's because I am. I've been obsessed with you since the moment I met you. I've never hid that fact."

"I don't know what to do with all this attention. Hell, I don't know what to do with a friend who's now a friend with benefits. So you'll have to forgive me if I stumble. This is all new to me."

"Fuck that."

I look at him over my shoulder. "Excuse me?"

"Fuck friends with benefits. Harmony, do you not get it? I moved into this house to be closer to you."

I swallow the lump in my throat, but it aches. More tears are coming.

"I thought you were looking for an investment, and annoying me by being my neighbor was just a bonus."

He laughs.

"Let's make it perfectly clear then. We're not friends with benefits. We're not messing around here. I love you, Harmony. I loved you from the first time you threatened to karate chop me at the expo."

I laugh. "Did I say that?"

Cooper's chest hair bristles against my back, warm and familiar to me as a husband.

"You did."

"I say a lot of things when I don't trust a man who's hanging around."

"I know. I've been on the receiving end of a lot of your barbs."

"My sister says I make jokes when I don't know what to do with my feelings or when I feel backed into a corner."

"I understand."

"So I might have a hard time saying I love you back. In fact, I might just chatter for hours while I process what you just said."

"Take your time."

We step out of the shower, steam filling the bathroom. Cooper hands me a towel and I'm still chattering.

"I don't talk this much ever."

"I know."

I dry myself off, and then he hangs the towel on the rod. Then he wraps his towel around his waist and leans one hand on the shower stall while I babble.

"I mean. Ostensibly my former fiancé loved me. At least, I think he did. Did he say it to me? I don't remember. Did I say it to him? I'm sure I did, but it's weird; I can't remember much. I only remember how it ended."

"Yeah."

It's like he's turned on a faucet and I can't stop talking.

"When does the window close?" I ask, following him into his bedroom as he beckons me forward.

"The window?"

"When would it be too late to say I love you back? Like is there a time limit? When will you decide you no longer love me if I don't say it back?"

I stand in the doorway of his bedroom and look around. Blank walls, basic king-sized bed with only a fitted sheet and some pillows. Does he sleep like that? Ew.

He opens his dresser, roots around for a bit, and then tosses me a bundle.

I unfold a man's large tee shirt advertising Virginia Tech and pull it over my head. It's long enough that it reaches my thighs but stretches across my boobs.

"There's no window," he says, searching the drawer. "You need shorts, right?"

"Wait, what are you doing?"

"To sleep in," he says.

I blink at him. "I live across the street."

"But you're sleeping here, love," he says.

This warms me to my core. "I am?"

"Yeah, and you probably don't want to sleep Winnie the Pooh style. Here."

He tosses me a pair of boxers and I pull them on.

"Damn," he says, thumbing his lip.

"What?" I say, examining my mostly bare legs. "Is it weird? Do I need to shave?"

He laughs. "No. Damn, as in you look good in my boxers."

"I'll take them home and wash them tomorrow," I say, watching him open a box and pull out a massive king-sized cotton quilt. It's homey and was clearly made with love by someone.

"Don't bother," he says as I help him cover the bed with the quilt. "You can keep them."

"Don't be silly," I say, as he climbs under the covers, holding open the quilt, indicating I should join him.

"Fine. Leave them here and I'll keep 'em under my pillow like one of those…what are those things that women fill with rose petals to make things smell nice?"

"A sachet?"

"That's it."

My brain clicks the strange pieces together. "You're going to use…the underwear I wore…to scent your pillow?"

He makes a long, low hum as he snuggles down into the pillow, his eyes half closed.

"Yep," he says, after a long yawn.

"Weirdo."

"Mm-hmm. Get in the bed, dream girl."

I crawl in next to him and he spoons up behind me.

Suddenly I'm at a loss for words. Or I'm all talked out.

I like this spooning thing he does. In the shower and in the bed. It makes it easier to tell him things.

Which is probably why before sleep hits me that I blurt it out.

"For the record, I love you too."

He squeezes me tight.

"So you're no longer annoyed that I moved here to be closer to you?"

My heart squeezes.

"No. But there is one thing. I know how much your aunt's house means to you. I would hate for you to give it up."

He draws in a breath. "But you hate that house."

I laugh. "I do not."

"Liar."

"Okay. Fine. I hate…a lot of it. But I also love it because it means so much to you and your brother. It has happy memories."

He sighs. "Yeah. But it's too big. Too much upkeep. Carter and Summer are building a smaller house more suited to their needs."

Carter is the more practical twin, but I won't say that.

"I think you should keep it," I say.

After a long pause, Cooper says, "You do?"

And here is where I remove the final brick in the wall I've built between Cooper and my real feelings.

I turn over to face him. "I barely knew you that day you invited us over for dinner. I know I told you I was repelled when I saw the front of the house. But when I saw what was on the inside, I had a feeling. I was flooded with something inexplicable, and as much as I wanted to keep you at a distance, I knew something special was happening. The entire time, I kept picturing that house as a sanctuary filled with friends, family, and pets. Laughter, fun, and a soft place to land in difficult times. I wasn't ready to embrace that vision. I wasn't ready for you. But now I am."

There. Finally. I said it.

And no matter how he reacts to it, I feel like a chain weighing me down has finally let go.

Cooper does that thing that I love him most for. Stays very quiet, very still, and watches me. My extroverted boy just lets me talk and lets me have my moment.

Saying what I want feels good.