by Hazel Parker
Which I tried not to notice.
But that was very, very hard.
“Are you really going to show up wherever I am?” I asked in return, though there was no heat in my tone.
Cooper stood beside me, leaning on the balcony railings that faced the mansion’s back lawn. We were on the other end of the mansion from the party, though I could still hear the faint music from here. His gaze was focused on the gardens below, and an appreciative smile slid from his mouth and widened.
“Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
“And you didn’t answer my question.”
I blinked. Then I shook my head and stared at the garden, too. “I’m not trying to brood. I just…needed some air.”
“Hmm.”
“Why are you here?”
“I followed you,” he said without preamble. “I thought you might need some company.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
There was nothing speculative about his tone, and nothing suggestive. I took it for what it was, because in our recent interactions, I realized something about Cooper: he often meant what he said, and he often meant it in a nice way. That gentlemanly, charming act he pulled with the reporters? It wasn’t an act at all.
And for me, that just made everything about him a little bit more dangerous.
Still, I took it in stride, even when he started the banter again—because that was what we were doing. Bantering.
There was no denying it now.
“So, do you always need air from your own party?”
Part of me wanted to deny it and move on to another topic of conversation, and I was absolutely sure he wouldn’t broach the subject again. But a bigger part of me wanted to open up—the deeper, repressed part of me that was trying to wrap around me the older I got and the more alone I became in this house.
And so for some unforsaken reason I let it out.
“I just miss my kids. They’re already in college and pretty much blazing a path to success, so yeah…obviously, they’re not kids anymore. But I’m a mother, and I’ll always think of them as kids.”
“You must be very proud of them.”
“Very,” I agreed. “They turned out well, despite all the hardships we’ve been through.”
He didn’t ask about the hardships, and I knew he knew about how my husband died. The whole world knew because we really kept nothing from the media at that point. It had been important for me to be an advocate and to be strong through it while a loved one was suffering, and now I dedicated a lot of my money to research centers in the hope of finding a cure. It may have been too late for my husband, but in the years to come, I wanted it to be not too late for someone else.
“Kids are resilient and have a way of turning out great and surprising us.”
I shot him a look upon hearing the humor in his tone. “Spoken from experience?”
Did he have kids I wasn’t aware of?
He grinned. “Sibling experience. There were four of us, three boys and one girl, growing up on a ranch. Imagine all the chaos we gave our parents and the teasing our little sister had to endure.”
This time, I could hear the affection in his tone at the mention of his family, which had me smiling as I turned back to look at the night sky. Oh, the guy was obviously soft for them, and it warmed my heart.
“So you’re telling me you and your brothers turned out fine despite the little hellraisers you surely were?”
Cooper scoffed. “Fine? I turned out more than fine, thank you very much. Just look at me,” as he stood up straight and puffed his chest with a grin.
This time, I couldn’t help my grin—then, the laugh that slowly slid out. “You really are so full of yourself.”
“I’m sure of myself. There’s a difference.”
Yes, there was. The point was, he owned who he was through and through.
“I guess there is,” I finally admitted.
Silence filled the space between us, though it wasn’t much space to begin with. It surprised me how comfortable and heady I felt beside him, a combination that I didn’t expect at all. Butterflies flew around inside my stomach, fluttering nerves that I hadn’t felt in so long. At the same time, I felt like I was being wrapped in a warm blanket, one so cozy that all I wanted to do was snuggle in it.
“You must miss your husband a lot. Did he share the same passion for racing as you?”
I shook my head. “He always watched it and we attended a few major events every year. I was missing him a lot, and it was driving me crazy. I needed a distraction.”
“So watching cars race became your distraction?”
“Sort of. It started that way. Then I ended up loving it and became a huge fan.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his mouth quirk. “Want to try out racing? The adrenaline rush is pretty amazing.”
I smiled. “No, thanks. I’d rather just feel the adrenaline rush from the bleachers.”
He laughed deeply, and it was pleasant to the ears. We eyed each other, whatever barrier was between us was slowly disappearing just like that as we got acquainted on that silent, empty balcony.
It was surprisingly easy to talk to Cooper, something I hadn’t expected at all. He was a good listener, never interrupting when I said something and responding candidly when I asked him questions. He had to be one of the most easygoing people I knew, and it was such a refreshing change from the intense people I usually dealt with. I found myself opening up about Gary, and the way he watched and listened told me he didn’t mind at all. There was polite respect there when he asked questions about the man, too, right before he asked me how it felt being a widow with two college kids.
“It can get pretty lonely. The house is rather big, and I’m the only one here—well, if you don’t count the gardener and housekeeper.”
“It’s a fantastic house.”
“It is. But some days I think about renting a smaller place and seeing if I’d feel better there.”
“Sara?”
“Hmm?”
“Maybe you just need to get out more.”
“Maybe.”
“I volunteer to accompany you.”
The cheeky way he said it had me smiling again. I checked my watch, surprised to find that we’d almost spent almost a half an hour on the balcony. I looked at him and saw that he was watching me in that quiet way he sometimes did, showing nothing of what he was thinking.
“What?” I asked.
“You must have really loved your husband.”
“I did.”
“Do you still miss him?”
“I miss his company, but just sometimes. I’ve moved on. I’m happy now, except for those lonely moments.”
“I guess no passionate kisses for five years would turn anyone lonely.”
I looked down, trying to remember the years again. So long. So fleeting now. “Passionate?”
“You know—open kisses. With tongue. Moans and all.”
I bit my lip and tried to keep myself from snickering. “We hadn’t done that in a while anyway.”
“You hadn’t?”
“We hadn’t even had sex in so long. Work kept us busy,” I blurted out. Belatedly, I realized I was back to the intimate stuff, but it was like a runaway train on a railroad. I couldn’t stop the words. “Besides, there were the children and the business and…everything else.”
“But you were in love with him. How could…?”
“I loved him. In love is for young ones.” I had never admitted that out loud, not being in love with Gary anymore, and it felt…freeing.
“No. It’s not.” The protest was a murmur. “So, no sex?”
“No.”
“Not even…touching yourself?”
Someone swallowed, and I wasn’t even sure if it was me or him. But again, my mouth was working ahead of me. “I haven’t…not in a while.”
Another swallow. This time, I was sure it was him. “Sara?”
I looked up. Found thos
e gray eyes focused so intensely on me. “Yes?”
“Not even a single passionate kiss?”
The way he said the word kiss had my heart racing again, the way it only did for him lately. Tingles shot up my spine. I shook my head.
“I’m too old for that.”
“How old are you?”
“Thirty-nine.”
It was supposed to make him back off, knowing my age. Instead, I watched as his eyes darkened and made heat pool in my belly in the snap of a second. A hand was on my waist, and I was suddenly being pulled so smoothly that my breath hitched. I gasped.
“Cooper?”
“You’re never too old for this,” was all he said. That one statement that had the sparks flying all over again.
His voice was low.
Aroused.
And then Cooper was covering my mouth with his.
CHAPTER TEN
COOPER
I wasn’t supposed to kiss her.
That was what I kept repeating in my head the whole time we were on the balcony. Sara had been talking her heart out, telling me things that I had a feeling she didn’t tell anyone else and making me feel something that I’d never felt for anyone else: a combination of heat and softness that confused the hell out of me, but awakened me at the same time. I watched her lips as she spoke, watched the sadness flit in her eyes before it was replaced by a certain sparkle that confirmed to me that yes, she really had moved on.
And then she talked about not having sex with anyone, and not getting touched, and not getting kissed…and shit. I was just a man.
A man who wanted her.
So here I was, kissing her. Correction: using my lips to light a fire in her that should never have went out. I was already lost the moment our lips touched, even more so when she opened her mouth for me and let me in.
Sara Montgomery let. Me. In.
Her hand came up to press against my chest, almost as if to push me away. But it just stayed there, unmoving, and her lips told a different story with the way they moved—slow, tentative, filled with surprise that I was kissing her and she was kissing me back. I tapped my tongue against her bottom lip, hearing the soft gasp vibrate from her throat before I placed my hand on her jaw. Then I tilted her head and angled the kiss deeper, sliding my tongue inside her hot, wet cavern.
But if it wasn’t the sweetest taste ever, I didn’t know what was.
Desire roared in my brain, rendering it blank, and then filled with only her. Her body softened against me and her nipples hardened to tight little peaks, and it was all I could not to yank that dress up and do wicked, wicked things to her—things that involved removing every piece of her clothing and plunging my fingers inside her wet core, so I could hear her moan.
So I could see her tremble.
And then she did moan, a soft and raspy sound that had my cock instantly standing at attention. It wanted to bury itself inside her, wanted to feel her tightness.
Sweet Jesus.
My hand moved to the edge of her dress at her back. Sara’s hand slid further up my chest.
And then in one decisive shove, she was firmly pushing me away.
The kiss broke, mostly out of surprise than any actual strength in that single push. My hand was still on the edge of her dress, and I had to make a conscious effort to remove it and stand still. All I wanted to do was pull her back against me and just continue losing myself in her taste. But I didn’t want hesitance, and I wasn’t going to force myself on her. So I took deep breaths and tried to calm the pounding of my blood, even when watching her was like torture itself.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her mouth was swollen. Her eyes were darkened pools of need, simmering on the surface, just waiting to be let out. She looked absolutely delectable, and the statement she made earlier about her being too old for this was so laughable and so untrue.
It looked like she was having trouble breathing, too, as she took a few seconds to gather it back. Then she faced me with a determined expression on her face, one that spoke volumes.
“We need to talk about how we can’t do that anymore.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Why not?”
I took another deep breath. “Because if you remain here and try to lecture me right now, I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off you.”
It wasn’t what she expected me to say. Then she shook her head, whispering in a shaky voice that she needed to mingle with her guests.
And then she was gone, leaving me alone with my raging erection and the emotions that threatened to undo me.
*****
Mingling was my forte, but I didn’t do much of it after that incident that haunted me for the rest of the night. Some people still approached me, though, and I tried my best to show a friendly face. There were a few women who wanted to flirt, and normally I would have been all over that—but after kissing Sara, I didn’t think I was going to enjoy flirting with anyone unless it was her.
Also, considering how our kiss replayed in my mind over and over, I didn’t think I could pay attention to any other woman tonight. Not at all.
I went home to those images still running around in my head, even when the cold shower finally removed whatever remnants of a hard-on I had. But it came back when I went to bed, and it only grew harder when I remembered that little moan she gave out.
Sara enjoyed that kiss as much as I did. But she wasn’t ready for it yet.
I closed my eyes, thoughts conflicted and knowing I was going to be dreaming about her tonight.
And it was going to be the sweaty, dirty kind of dreams.
*****
There was someone new watching my practice session from the race track garage, and I found myself curious as I watched her focusing intensely on my performance—yes, my performance, not me. My initial thought of some race bunny sneaking in was abolished completely as she eyed my car like a mechanic would, a frown marring her lips that spoke of trying to figure out something.
Because I was already distracted to begin with, I decided to just cut practice short and check out who this new arrival was. I walked towards her casually, noting that she had no one with her. A closer inspection confirmed that she was pretty, with her rather fiery red hair and honey brown eyes. She looked pretty casual with her loose white shirt and torn jeans, almost like it was deliberate.
She also looked decidedly nervous.
The woman turned to me when I got to the garage, and I was already smiling when I met her eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she greeted back, her voice calm. No suggestive gazes and all that. “What model is your car?”
Yes, definitely not a bunny.
I told her the details, watching her expression take it in with concentration. My car was well-maintained and one of the few precious belongings that I didn’t replace—well, except for the parts—because it was a gift. Her eyes lit up when I told her all the high-end upgrades I put in just this year, and it got me so curious that I just couldn’t resist holding out a hand anymore.
“I’m Cooper Oliver, by the way.”
She took the handshake with ease. “Honey York.”
Why did the name sound so familiar…?
My brow rose once my mind cleared, and I remembered. Sara had mentioned about some new racer that was causing quite a stir in some town and wanted to take her talent to the big races—and yes, it was a woman. We’d had female race car drivers before, but not in this generation—and certainly not someone this young. I studied her, wondering what she was made of.
“You’re from Georgia, right?”
Surprise filled her that I knew, right before she nodded. “How did you…?”
“Word gets around.” I grinned. “You should know that we treasure gossip and ogling new members to see if they could beat us.”
A small, rueful smile slid out of her lips. I asked her about her car and when she was going to be joining the first race here, and soon we were absorbed in the details of our
conversation. I could see Honey glancing at my car from time to time, and I offered for her to give it a try around the race track to get the feel of it. While there were some who absolutely did not let anyone touch their cars, I didn’t mind.
But Honey declined, shaking her head. Then she looked to the side, her eyes narrowing in surprise.
I turned in that direction, too, and found a lone man outside the metal link fence holding a camera.
“Ah, the paparazzi. You’ll get used to them,” I assured. “They’re everywhere, and the racing world is well loved.”
“Even during practices?”
I shrugged. “That’s where they catch the candid moments, I guess. Like this one.”
“This one?”
“Right now they’ve probably taken a picture of us together and are speculating if we’re together.”
Her eyes widened in alarm, and I chuckled.
“Don’t mind it, though,” I added. “Like I said, you’ll get used to them. I’m pretty sure you’ll cause quite a stir just for your gender.”
“Nothing wrong with my gender.”
“Absolutely nothing,” I confirmed. “We’re glad to see a female beat us all to the ground.”
That made her smile again. I leaned my head, dropping my voice to whisper. But it wasn’t a flirty kind of leaning in, because she reminded me more of my sister than a woman I would be dating. I didn’t know why, but that was just that.
“Want to give them something exciting to talk about?”
“Like what?”
“Give my car a whirl around the track, and everyone will think we’re getting married.”
No female had ever ridden my car before, and I was absolutely sure it was going to cause quite a stir. The thought alone was amusing, really.
Honey gave me a considering look. I wondered if she’d back off because she was new and unsure, or she’d take the bait and just go for it. Surprise filled me when she finally nodded, followed by delight.
I watched her as she got in, then drove around the race track slowly for the first few minutes as a warm-up. Then she picked up speed, and I studied her driving style and realized that she was good—she was really, really good. I had a feeling she was going to cause a stir for this reason alone soon, and that was something to look forward to.
