Chapter 8

chapter

eight

Harmony

The sound of my preset coffee machine might as well be a preset reminder that Cooper is here, up to no good. Again.

Morning has become synonymous with seeing Cooper haunting my house, my yard, my town.

I pluck my favorite mug from the cupboard and peer through the kitchen window, which overlooks the backyard.

There he is, digging holes.

Don't get me wrong. A friend like Cooper is hard to come by.

For most of my life, Summer has been my best friend. But now she's moving on with Carter. When she's not at our frozen yogurt shop, Little Spoon, she spends most of her time at the house in Gold Hill or the property where they plan on building a house together.

Yeah, my sister and Carter moved fast.

Cooper must feel uncomfortable sharing a mansion with his twin and his twin's girlfriend, so he's taken to spend all his time helping me around the house.

Not that I mind. It's just a bit much sometimes. It's getting tougher and tougher to remind myself that he's just a friend.

It's hard not to like him, with his earnest brown eyes, easy smile, and ready-for-anything personality. Not wearing a shirt is certainly a choice. A sweaty, glistening choice that muddles the brain of a woman who's determined not to trust a man ever again.

Yesterday, Cooper mowed my grass and fixed a sagging gutter hanging off the house's side. Today, he's digging holes for who knows what reason.

He can do what he wants, I just wish he'd do it fully clothed.

I pour my coffee and take that first, perfect sip as I stare out the window. The morning sun gleams off his bare chest, already sweaty from working outside.

It's not the worst view, first thing in the morning.

He's built almost exactly the same as his identical twin, Carter.

I can see why Summer fell for that one. The twins are both athletic, tall, and eager to help. Cooper has a slight edge over Carter in the athletic build department. He's got six-pack abs that I could bounce a quarter off of.

And with all the work he's been doing outside lately, his golden tan makes it much easier to tell the difference between the two brothers.

Which means Summer won't mistake Cooper for Carter again.

I cringe at the memory.

Cooper finishes digging a hole and fills it with something gray and wet. Cement? What the heck?

I glance around and finally notice the stack of posts and flats of flowers and grasses. Well, he's set himself up for quite a project. One that I didn't ask for.

It's too much.

He needs to find something better to do with his time. Something less expensive and time-consuming.

Sighing, I grab another mug from the cupboard and pour a second cup of coffee. Then I think twice and pour that into a big glass jar, adding ice, cream, a modest shot of Jack, then stir it. Why the heck not? It's not like he has an office job to go to. Although, if he drinks a second one of these, he should probably lay off the heavy equipment if he's gonna spend the day doing DIY stuff.

I add a pretty paper straw just for fun. Then, I tighten my robe and head outside.

When the screen door slaps behind me, Cooper looks up and smiles. My insides threaten to turn to goo at the picture of him grinning up at me, leaning on his shovel, sweat dripping down his chest. But I keep it together by reminding myself, this is a trap. He's trying to confuse and confound me into becoming more than friends, and it won't work.

I'm not looking for a relationship, as I'm not fully healed from the last one. I might live alone for the rest of my life, which will be fine with me.

"‘Morning."

I return Cooper's broad smile with a smaller one, padding down the deck steps in my bare feet, holding his drink. "Good morning. I have your caffeine order."

He eyes me suspiciously then removes his gardening cloves. He takes the jar, examining the contents.

"Just coffee? What are you concocting here, Dr. Frankenstein?"

I laugh. "It's my take on Kentucky coffee."

"Sweet! Thanks," he says, taking it and downing it in one go.

I try not to stare at the cords on his neck while he drinks, or at the Adam's apple bobbing. Or at his bare trapezius muscles, or how he looks more tan and ripped than last week.

I swallow.

"You're welcome," I say, my throat dry.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, but he still has a coffee mustache, which is too freaking adorable.

"How is it? I was thinking of some new after-hours coffee flavors for Little Spoon."

"Delicious. Too delicious first thing in the morning, but I'm not driving anywhere."

This pleases me, then I remember why I really came out here.

"May I ask what you are doing with all of this?" I ask, gesturing to the cement, the posts, flowers, and equipment nearby.

He once again leans on his shovel and it's all I can do not to sigh at his supermodel good looks. "Well, I was just thinking the other day, you could really use a fence. And if you have a fence, you should have a garden bed to border it. That'll make it really pretty back here."

I'm not going to admit that he read my mind.

"But that was just me babbling. I've got nothing to fence in."

He shrugs. "Want a dog?"

No, Harmony. Don't go there. You must steel yourself.

"No," I lie.

"Well, it'll give you some privacy then."

"This can't keep happening."

"What can't keep happening?"

"You. This is too much."

"It's not too much. I like to keep busy."

I fight the urge to tell him to find a hobby. Because…I don't actually want him to find a hobby.

I'm in this weird space between feeling obligated to him for all the work and money he's put into the business and the house, and wanting him around because he's good company. And really good to look at.

"Then, could you please put a shirt on?"

Cooper leans on the rake and smiles. "It's warm today."

"I'm well aware of how warm it is."

"Okay, I guess you want me to suffer from heat stroke."

"You won't suffer from heat stroke in the middle of September."

"It's supposed to get up to 83 degrees."

I roll my eyes. "Drama queen."

"It's part of my charm," he says with a grin.

I huff, "But it's a work day. Do you not have a regular job to go to?"

He looks at me like I ought to know better. As if we both know good and well how he spends his time.

"You are my job."

A rush of pleasure runs through me. I blink rapidly to hide the shocked expression. "You mean Little Spoon is your job. And we have employees for that. Don't you have, like, other investments to oversee?"

The toothy grin is too much. "Do you want me to leave you alone to find other people to invest in?"

He has my number, and I hate it.

God, what are we arguing about?

I try to be subtle as I draw in a long, steadying breath, staring eye level with his glistening chest, ignoring the way it rises and falls, becoming impossibly broader with each rise.

I blink up at him slowly. "I want you to do whatever you want with your time, Cooper."

I gently snatch the jar from his grip and spin around, heading back up the wooden steps, disappearing into the house to prepare for the school day, moving swiftly so he won't notice the shiver in my shoulders.