As we walked, she leaned in. “I don’t think you understand my level of excitement.”
Courtney, when excited, reminded me very much of her as a kid. “I’m picking up on it.”
“Do you have a favorite?” she asked, her eyes dancing. “I mean, is there one goat in particular you would recommend I meet? I want to use my time wisely.”
I laughed but understood that to Courtney this was a very serious question. She didn’t get to hang out with goats in the big city. “If Cotton is out, you definitely want to meet her. She’s an attention whore and very sweet.”
“Got it. Cotton.” She headed off to the goat pen like a doctor into emergency surgery. I stood along the fence as Sammy distributed a handful of grain to each of my charges. I watched as Courtney checked in with him only to be shown to the solid white goat we affectionately named Cotton. Courtney held her hand out flat, just as she’d been instructed, and smiled as Cotton eagerly ate from her hand. Slowly, she stroked the goat along the neck and shook her head in wonder. That’s when it came over me: pure, unencumbered happiness. The moment playing out in front of me was so simple that it shouldn’t have carried that much weight, but it did. The happiness, I understood finally, came from Courtney’s happiness, seeing her so carefree, taking such enjoyment in her time with the little goat. The whole thing had me smiling like an idiot.
Which meant that I might be in trouble.
Refusing to examine this new revelation any further, I waited for the group to finish up before hopping back on the hay bale–filled trailer that would take us all back to the barn. Courtney sat next to me as the tractor pulled us slowly across the property. Once it was clear that the other members of the tour were lost in their own conversations, she leaned in very close to my ear.
“That was fun.”
I nodded, aware of my thigh up against hers. “It was.”
She dropped her voice to a whisper. “I love watching you speak in front of a group. It makes me want to do delicious things to you.”
I quirked an eyebrow.
“I’m behaving myself right now only because I have respect for this farm and your family.”
“What things would those be?” I whispered back with a smile, my mind already running with the possibilities.
“Oh, I’m making a list.”
I met her darkened eyes and ordered my libido to settle. “You’re killing me. You know that, right?”
“I’m not thinking the list will kill you, but it definitely might wear you out.”
I glanced at my watch. “I have a break after this.”
Her interest was piqued. “It seems the stars are lining up for us.”
“And I just live a quarter mile up that road there.”
“What are we waiting for?”
While it would be rude to report that I unceremoniously dumped the rest of my tour and hightailed it with Courtney back to my cottage, that’s exactly what happened. “I’ve never had an afternoon tryst before,” I mused, exhausted and happy in the luxurious afterglow.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure we’ve had afternoon sex before,” Courtney said as she walked naked around my bedroom, gathering her clothes. “In fact, I know we have.”
“Doesn’t count. We were young. This was an adult tryst.”
“I’d say, given what we just did.” Once she’d compiled them, she set them in a neat little stack on the bedside table and climbed back in bed. “How much time do you have?”
I glanced at the clock next to the bed. “Nine minutes until I have to be back.”
“I’m a fan of the way you taste,” she said, and nibbled on my neck. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her in, loving the feel of her weight on me, loving the feel of her. She lifted her head. “So three minutes to walk back to the big house.”
I thought on this. “That’s about right, if I’m expeditious.” She palmed my breast, and my eyes fluttered at the overt sensations it released.
Another overly thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Two minutes to get dressed and tame that gorgeous hair.”
I nodded. “More or less.”
“Which gives me four whole minutes with you.” She slipped a hand between my legs, and holy Mary Todd. My lips parted and my body melted to Jell-O at her slow strokes. That very familiar spark took hold and was already building.
“We can’t. Courtney, I have to…” But she shifted to circles, and all meaningful words failed me. “Oh, wow. Okay.”
“I thought I could persuade you.” She wrapped her other arm around my waist to anchor me and continued to use the other hand to take me to ever-growing heights. “I have three minutes,” she whispered as I found the rhythm of her hand.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Maggie.”
“Yes?” Torturous circles.
“I want you to look at me while I touch you.”
I opened my eyes and locked my gaze to hers. What I saw looking back at me had me struck. It wasn’t the desire in her eyes that had me struck, though that was decidedly there, but the unabashed tenderness. “Maggie,” she said again simply, as she entered me. In that moment, I was hers and came in a wash of intense gratification amplified by emotional reward that left me limp, sated, and mystified.
She kissed me softly. “You are so beautiful.” She smiled down at me and shook her head in reverence. Recognition flared and she seemed to remember herself. “Ninety seconds to spare,” she said, much lighter now. She stood, picked up her clothes, and headed in the direction of my bathroom to dress.
“Courtney, wait a sec.” But the door clicked quietly closed, ending the connection that had rocked me so potently. The history between us was vast. That part was no secret. But was what I was feeling now a mirage of what had once been or something rooted more terrifyingly in the here and now?
I dressed and waited for Courtney, no longer concerned with the ticking clock. When she reemerged, gone was the sincerity, and in its place, the kind of levity she excelled at. “I was thinking about the face painting. I could do that, ya know. Make a few extra bucks on the side of the whole retail thing.” She stared at me curiously. “What? What’s that look?”
I opened my mouth to explain, to articulate the blaring questions that now stood at attention in my mind, ramrod straight and unbending. There was a part of me that couldn’t help but wonder what if. “I think you’d make a fantastic face painter,” I said instead.
Her smile faltered, but only for a moment. “Me too.”
Chapter Twenty-two
When we weren’t together, I thought about Courtney a lot, wondered what she was doing, how her day was going. The more time we spent together, the more I felt an unexpected warmth and affection for the Courtney she was today. I lusted after her blatantly. True. That part hadn’t changed, but I’d also developed a new appreciation for how her mind worked. She was intelligent, driven, and thoughtful when it came to business, plus she had this artistic streak when it came to sketching and fashion that was like sprinkles on an already impressive sundae.
Courtney had moved into the small rental shortly after signing the lease and seemed to really enjoy it, adding a few personal touches of her own to make it feel more like home. We’d fallen back into the pattern of seeing each other at the end of every day, texting here and there throughout. In bed, we were more combustible than ever, and our talks were always full of easy shorthand. Maybe that’s because we stayed away from the heavy topics. And true to our arrangement, she never slept over. Yet there was an ever-approaching day on the calendar that I didn’t let myself think too much about.
Others did that for me.
“Have you let go of all that anger yet?” my father asked as I packed up at the end of our meeting. We’d spent the afternoon going over the calendar for the fall, cementing in the important events and their dates.
I blinked at him as I swung my attaché on my shoulder. “What anger are we talking about? I’m still not okay with Yoko, if that’s what you’re referencing.
I don’t even like her children.”
He inclined his head to the door. “You’re running around this town with Courtney Carrington joined at your hip, and I want to know if you laid down the anger you’ve been carrying with you ever since the day she got married.”
Married. The word itself caused me to bristle, which I guess was evidence that I hadn’t. “Not really something I choose to dwell on.” Total lie.
“Maybe it should be. Anger sucks,” he said, and left the office whistling.
Later that night, as Ernie snoozed at the front door—guard dog that he aspired to be—Courtney and I stayed up late eating post-sex ice cream in my kitchen.
“So I don’t understand why the right side of the store is getting all this new design effort,” I said, taking a seat next to her at the table. “Why the right?”
Courtney licked the back of her spoon. “It’s the most important. The average person will usually start their shopping on the right side of a given retail space, as their gaze travels there from the left. The Tanner Peak store is missing that pop on the right, so we’re redoing it. The goal is to add eye-catching colors to grab the customer’s attention instantly.”
“I don’t start shopping on the right.”
“Yes, you do. You probably just don’t realize it.”
“No.”
She laughed at my obstinateness. “I’m guessing you read right to left, too?”
I pointed at her with my spoon emphatically. “Hey, you don’t know.”
Her smile waned. “I know that there’s no one like you, Maggie.”
I felt that one like a burst of warmth right in the center of my chest. Alarm bells flared, because we both knew what this was between us and also what this wasn’t. I attempted to move us out of it, finding my smile again. “You’re trying to distract me with kindness while I’m attempting to learn something here.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, following suit. “What else would you like to know?”
“I want to know more about the psychology aspect as it applies to shoppers that aren’t me.”
“Of course. The not-yous of the world. Well, let’s see. As a retailer, we’re always going to do better if we provide breaks in the display of merchandise. The average shopper, present company excluded of course, will generally skip over twenty percent of the products available for sale if everything is strung together. Breaks in their perusal are shown to increase sales.”
I’d missed all this the past five years.
The interesting conversation. The kidding back and forth. The explosive chemistry. I found Courtney utterly sexy when she talked shop. “I get the feeling you’re good at your job.”
“I’m glad I’ve left you with that impression, at least. Come here and I’ll tell you all about window displays,” she said, holding out her hand. Unable to resist that sexy smile, I made my way around the table, catching sight of myself in the mirror. Lips: swollen. Hair: wild. Skin: glowing. Nipples: hard.
Sigh.
“I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” I said, covering them through my T-shirt.
Courtney grinned. “I haven’t done anything. They just like me, is all.”
“That part is true.” I straddled her lap, lacing my arms around her neck. She wore the short silk robe that Berta had given me for Christmas the year prior. Seeing Courtney in it gave the robe brand-new meaning.
“Window displays,” she said, as she slipped her hands under the fabric of my T-shirt and rested them on the small of my back, “should tell a story. They’re the eyes into the store.”
“I like that. The eyes into the store.”
“I do, too.”
We shared a smile for a long moment, and the world seemed to slow down. “Tell me something you’re thinking,” I said quietly, wanting to know what was going on behind those heartbreakingly beautiful eyes.
She looked skyward. “How well I feel ice cream and bedroom activities pair together.”
“I can agree to the stellar pairing.” I nibbled on her neck. “What else?”
“I was thinking that I love your giant teddy bear of a dog.”
“Me too. He’s a keeper.” More nibbling. “Anything else?”
“Sometimes I wonder about us.”
Silence. I went still but wanted to hear more. “In what way?”
She looked up at me, and I disentangled my arms from around her neck. “I sometimes wonder what it would take to get you to fight for me.”
I didn’t react right off because the stab of pain I felt in my chest stole my next breath. The expression on her face read vulnerable. I swallowed. “I did fight for you once upon a time. It didn’t go so well.”
She eased me off her and walked to the sink. I could no longer see her eyes and that had me feeling powerless. “If you had, I’d imagine I’d know about it.”
Whoa. “Courtney, you got married. Married,” I said, emphasizing the word. “If that isn’t the universal sign for I’ve moved on, I don’t know what it is. You found someone else. Maybe he made you happy in a way I never did.”
“You know that’s not true.” Her voice was low and shaky.
“Actually, I don’t.”
She turned back to me, her eyes brimming. “He wanted me, Maggie. And you didn’t.”
I swallowed the lump that had formed, but the anger from all those years ago wasn’t so easily dissolved. “And that was enough for you? That’s all it takes? For someone to want you?”
She looked at me, incredulous. “You have no idea, do you, Maggie, what it was like to be someone like me. Are you really that oblivious?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You had this wonderful family overflowing with love. Two parents who would have walked to the moon and back for you. A community of people who adored you, and a best friend who had your back at every turn. I had you.” The tears fell from her eyes. “Do you understand that? And when I lost you, I had to find a way to be okay again.”
I didn’t know what to say. For the first time, I looked at the breakup from Courtney’s point of view, a luxury my anger hadn’t allowed in the past. It was like turning on a light in a darkened room. “I’m sorry you felt alone,” were the words I heard leave my lips. They came straight from my heart. “I was mad at you for so many years. But I can say now that I’m sorry. For hurting you. For pulling so much of myself away.”
She nodded. “Thank you.” Silence hovered between us, and she slowly took a seat at the table in contemplation. Finally, she looked up at me. “For a long time, I didn’t let myself imagine how you’d feel when you heard about Nate and me. I didn’t let myself think about you or my life back here at all. I’m good at that when I need to be.”
“Why’d you come back?” I had to ask. “The truth this time.”
She stared at the ceiling for a few moments before leveling her gaze on me. “Because when I walked out of this cottage five years ago, I lost the best part of myself. Maybe subconsciously, I thought I could get it back. Silly, right?” She chuckled sardonically and shook her head.
“Yeah,” I said, not really believing it was because I’d lost the best part of myself that night, too.
“Well,” Courtney said loudly, pushing herself up from the table. “Things have gotten entirely too serious in here, and that’s my fault. I apologize. I’ll go. I shouldn’t have—”
She didn’t get to finish that sentence because my lips were on hers in a kiss I hoped would communicate all the things that I could not. The heartache, the confusion, the passion, the lust, but most important of all, the love. Because of course it was still there, and always would be. I’d loved Courtney with all of my heart back then and I still loved her now. I’d just found a way to live without her, if you could call it living at all. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that anymore. I also wasn’t sure I was capable of doing anything about it.
“Maggie,” Courtney whispered. I nodded against her lips, because I knew. She loved me, too. I took he
r to bed wordlessly where we made love. Before we fell asleep, I made a point to kiss her like I was drowning and she was my only hope.
In so many ways, it was true.
We fell asleep tangled in one another beneath the covers as the blue moonlight slanted through the room. I held her close and woke every hour or so to make sure that she was still there. When the glowing numbers on my alarm clock read 7:14, I was sad to find the spot next to me empty. I turned over and ran my hand across the sheet where Courtney had been, feeling the loss.
When the sound of the shower hit, my heart squeezed. Stop that. I was in automatic self-preservation mode, a habit I’d developed from years of practice. But I did something a little crazy then and let myself enjoy the squeeze.
Just for a few minutes.
I sighed happily, reveling in the little upshot in energy I got thinking about our sleepover. How wonderful it was to have Courtney sleeping in my arms or the inverse, holding me. Both were equal parts heaven. The languid daydream was interrupted by the bathroom door opening. “What time is it?” Courtney asked in a panicked voice.
I glanced at the clock. “Seven sixteen.”
“Damn it.” She moved quickly into the room, completely naked. I sat back and enjoyed the show. “I’m late.”
“You’re in charge. You can’t be late.”
She held up a finger. “Because I’m in charge, I shouldn’t be. Have you seen my bra?”
“Next to the dresser?” I rested my head in my propped-up palm and watched her look.
“Nope.” She turned back to me and smiled. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Probably next to my jeans. They came off around the same time.”
Her eyes lit up. “That they did.” I watched as she shook out my jeans, located her wayward bra, and put it on.
“Aww, now that’s a shame.”
She passed me a glance as she gathered the rest of her clothing. “Stop tempting me.”
I shrugged. “I would do no such thing. You’re going to have to go home and change anyway. I’m just thinking you could spare five minutes.”
Strawberry Summer Page 26
