Meant to Be (Sweetbriar Cove Book 1)

by Melody Grace

  Poppy gasped to feel him, filling her inch by glorious inch. She flexed around him, adjusting to the feel, and Cooper groaned against her.

  Then he began to move.

  God, she thought she’d felt pleasure before from his mouth and hands, but this was something else. He was surging inside her, stroking her so deep, she lost her mind. Poppy clung onto him, rising to meet every thrust, until they were moving as one, each new hot stroke driving her higher, setting her blood on fire. There were no words left, just the feel of him: hard, and deep, and so damn right she never wanted it to end. But her body couldn’t hold back. Soon, she was cresting, right there on the edge again, his body bearing down on her and his mouth claiming hers.

  “Cooper . . .” she moaned, lost to the sensation. “Oh god, I’m close.”

  He lifted his head, and the look in his eyes—that raw, animal need—stole what was left of her breath away. Over and over again, he surged into her, his gaze still fixed on hers so she was drowning in the sight of him, the overwhelming pleasure that rose, and crested, and—god—shattered through her with a cry as he thrust deep one last time and sent them both over the edge, until she was spent and breathless in his arms.

  And never wanted to let go.

  Sixteen.

  Poppy took a ragged breath, collapsed in a haze of pleasure. That was . . . He was . . .

  Incredible.

  Cooper rolled away and took care of the condom, but before she could even miss him, he was back beside her, holding her tightly, his chest rising and falling hard.

  “Goddamn.” His voice was thick with satisfaction. “You should come with a warning.”

  Poppy felt a glow of pride. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

  Cooper snorted. He suddenly rolled her beneath him again: pinning her to the mattress with his mouth just inches from hers. “You want to try that again?” he said, a teasing spark in his eyes.

  “Give me five minutes,” she grinned back. “And sure.”

  Cooper laughed, and collapsed beside her again. “Make it ten.” He stroked her naked curves and yawned. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  “I don’t know . . .” she mused, stroking circles on his chest. “You’ve still got moves . . . for an old man.” She stroked lower, and Cooper caught her hand.

  “Minx,” he said, grinning. “Dangerous woman.”

  Poppy stretched. She rather liked the sound of that. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. “I like this place,” she said. “It’s very . . . you.”

  “Run-down and out the back of beyond?” Cooper arched an eyebrow.

  She laughed. “Rustic and manly.”

  “You like that, huh?” Cooper’s hands slipped under the sheets. Poppy wriggled, ticklish, and he leaned in, murmuring low and sexy. “You should drop by the construction site sometime. I can hammer a joist like nobody’s business.”

  “I’ll bet you can.” She laughed and kissed him again, loving how easy it felt. How natural. His body was hot and deliciously naked against her, still sweaty from all their tanglings, and she was reminded of her thought that very first day she’d seen him, grown up from the boy she’d known.

  He was all man.

  Eventually, Cooper broke away. “What did you bring with the wine?”

  Poppy took a moment for her brain to function again. “What?”

  “The Tupperware. It looked like pie. Was it pie?” Cooper brightened, and she had to laugh.

  “Cobbler. And I can’t believe you’re thinking about food when you have a naked woman in bed with you.”

  “You made me work up an appetite,” he said, hopping out of bed. She was treated to the sight of his naked body in all its glory before he grabbed a robe. “Don’t move an inch,” he said, and headed down the stairs.

  Poppy sank back into the pillows. She couldn’t if she tried. Amazing sex and a man to bring her dessert in bed?

  This must be what heaven was like.

  And she would have missed out on all of it if she hadn’t taken that leap and showed up at his door tonight. Poppy thought how close she’d come to just going home, and shivered. It just goes to show that working up the courage and taking that risk brought all kinds of unexpected delights. For once, she hadn’t been content to disappear into the comforting fiction of her books—she’d gone after what she wanted in the real world, and it had worked out better than she could ever have dreamed.

  Well, maybe she had dreamed this, late at night in those secret fantasies. But Cooper live and in the flesh was more glorious than even her most fevered daydreams. She’d found a man who could teach her romantic heroes a thing or two. Or three. Or more . . .

  “You didn’t say it was Fran’s famous plum cobbler.”

  Cooper reappeared with the bottle of wine, the Tupperware container, and two forks. He dove onto the bed, bouncing beside her, and she laughed.

  “Now, this is a feast,” Poppy said. He offered the wine, and she took a gulp, sweet and straight from the bottle. “When I was a kid, I used to love all those books about British boarding schools. My parents even asked me if I wanted to go away to school, and I had to tell them no, I just loved all the midnight feasts they had, sneaking off in the middle of the night.”

  “I remember you always had your nose in a book.” Cooper fed her a fork of cobbler, and Poppy sighed with satisfaction. “You always seemed so . . . self-contained. Like it didn’t matter what else was going on in the world, you had your books, so you didn’t need anyone. I envied you for that.”

  “Really?” Poppy looked at him in surprise. “I read so much because I felt lonely all the time. Even that summer here, I was such an outsider. I felt like everyone thought I was such a nerd.”

  “We did.” Cooper grinned, and reached to push back her hair from her eyes. “But a cute nerd.”

  She smiled. “You drove me crazy. If I’d had a dime for every time you dropped something slimy down my shirt . . .”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t help it,” he said. “You got so flustered and angry when I called you—”

  “Don’t!” Poppy covered his mouth with her hand. “Don’t even think about it.”

  She slowly lowered her hand, but Cooper gave her a wicked look. “Pipsqueak,” he said, before she could stop him. Poppy shoved him back playfully.

  “That’s no way to seduce a woman,” she warned, and he laughed.

  “I’ll take my chances. This woman seems pretty receptive to my . . . charms.” He leaned in and kissed her bare shoulder, a trail of whisper-soft kisses that made her sigh with pleasure.

  “Fine,” she said. “But no seaweed down my back.”

  “Deal.”

  Cooper settled back, Poppy snuggled in the crook of his arm. He took a gulp of wine, and felt pretty damn satisfied about how the night had turned out.

  Life didn’t get much better than this.

  “I owe Mackenzie a drink,” Poppy said, her head resting against his chest. “She’s the one who told me to show up on your doorstep.”

  “Did she? That sounds about right.” He stroked her hair, and marveled at the silky feel.

  “She said you were too stubborn to make the first move.” Poppy gave him a mischievous look.

  He grinned. “Don’t be so sure. I could have just cut your hot water again, and had you come running—naked into my arms.”

  Poppy laughed. “Don’t even joke about it.” She settled back to rest, but Cooper wondered if it were true. If she hadn’t showed up that night, could he really have stayed away?

  Never.

  He’d been kidding himself, saying she was out of reach. Sooner or later, their chemistry would have been too much to resist. Hell, he’d sworn to steer clear from the start, but somehow, he always found a way back to her. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he couldn’t stop himself from coming around. A coffee, a late night chat. A kiss that turned his world upside down.

  No, it was inevitable that they’d wound up here: naked, together in his bed. The q
uestion now was, where did they go from here?

  Cooper tensed. Somehow, that question had a way of bringing back the past, but Poppy looked up questioningly, and the sight of her beautiful face made it all melt away. He didn’t want to think about the future, not all the questions and disappointments it could bring, so he kissed her instead, long and slow, claiming that sweet mouth until Poppy was writhing against him.

  This was all that mattered. Right here. Now. In her arms.

  He pulled her closer, dragging his hands possessively over every inch of her, feeling that incredible need take over him again. Not just desire, but something more primal—to own her, make her his. Bring her such pleasure that she would never want to let go. She moaned into his mouth, and it was all the invitation he needed. He slowly eased her thighs apart and lost himself in her again.

  16

  When Poppy woke again, the sun was bright in the sky outside the barn windows. She yawned, rolling over in the snug sheets. Something crumpled against her, and with sleepy eyes she reached to find a note on the pillow.

  See you at June’s. X

  It wasn’t exactly a declaration of undying love, but she’d take that scribbled X any day. Poppy stretched, feeling the satisfying ache in her limbs.

  God, that man was good with his hands . . . and his mouth . . . and—

  Other things.

  She lay in a warm haze of memories, until her stomach rumbled, and she remembered that her clean clothes and a hot breakfast were still a drive away. The place was empty, and it took a moment to adjust to the sound of trees and birdsong outside instead of the steady crashing of the waves. Poppy scrambled out of bed, her feet bare on the cold floors. She hunted around for her clothing, following the trail downstairs and back to the kitchen table. She quickly redressed, flushing as the passionate images flooded her mind.

  It’s a good thing that table was as sturdy as it looked.

  Poppy lingered by the table. He’d cleaned up the shattered glass, but all of Cooper’s paperwork and blueprints were still scattered on the floor. She carefully collected them and placed them back into neat piles, remembering how he’d swept them aside in a moment of passion.

  That man sure knew how to make her heart beat faster.

  She couldn’t keep from smiling. It felt like her connection with Cooper had gone to a whole new level last night, and not just the physical side of things either. Seeing him here, in his natural habitat, she understood him better. Even though he’d hidden himself away out here in the woods, there was a part of him that wanted to take the leap, the same as she did. Open up to something new.

  She wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but it felt good to be taking that risk again. With him.

  Poppy yanked on her jacket, found her keys and opened the door, only to come face to face with—

  “Debra?”

  Poppy blinked. One of the older women from book club was on Cooper’s doorstep—hand outreached towards the doorbell. She had a crate full of apples in her arms, and Poppy stifled a groan. Just her luck that someone was making a neighborly delivery at ten in the morning!

  “Poppy.” Debra’s eyes widened, and then a mischievous smile danced onto her face. “Good morning. I didn’t know I’d find you here.”

  “I’m not! Here!” Poppy blurted, desperately thinking for a reason she would be emerging from Cooper’s house.

  A reason that didn’t involve a night of torrid sex. And three orgasms.

  “I . . . umm, was just dropping something off. For Cooper,” she kept babbling. “He said to just leave it inside. So that’s what I was doing.” Poppy grabbed her purse and lunged out of the door. “Great seeing you!”

  “Dearie?” Debra stopped her. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “No! What? How?” Poppy gulped.

  Debra smirked, and nodded to Poppy’s bare feet.

  “Oh. Right.” Poppy looked around inside for her shoes. She found one sneaker tossed behind the couch, and another resting halfway up the stairs. When she re-emerged, shod this time, Debra’s smile had grown.

  “See you around,” Poppy managed to mutter as she slinked past.

  Debra laughed. “You have a great day now!”

  No! Poppy glanced in the rearview mirror as she hightailed it out of there, watching Debra recede in the distance. There was no way the other woman bought her story about an early-morning barefoot delivery. At this rate, half the town would know about her sleepover before she even made it back to the beach!

  She gulped and tried not to feel like she was back in college again, doing the walk of shame back to her dorm. She was a grown adult woman, she reminded herself firmly. She was allowed to have a sex life.

  An amazing, bone-melting, spine-tingling, beg-for-more sex life.

  Poppy grinned. She couldn’t help it. So, their secret hook-up had been busted wide open before it even had a chance to be secret. She didn’t care. Because wow, that had been good.

  And she already wanted more.

  Back at the cottage, she found the crew working hard on the house next door. But Cooper—and his truck—were nowhere to be seen. Probably getting supplies, she guessed, and took the opportunity to have a long shower and wash her hair. She still cautiously tested the water before stepping under the spray, but thankfully, there had been no more “ice bucket” incidents since that first time with Cooper.

  Her mind drifted, rinsing her hair. The shower was plenty big enough for two, so maybe Cooper could come join her one night after work, all sweaty from his labor . . .

  The sound of her phone ringing interrupted her steamy thoughts, and even though Poppy was tempted to let it go to voicemail and stay happily locked in her fantasyland, she knew her hot water supply wouldn’t last forever. She grabbed a towel and shut off the water, trying not to drip on the floors as she sprinted for her bedroom.

  “Hello?” She picked up, and found Summer on the other end.

  “Am I, or am I not, your best friend?”

  “Um, yes?” Poppy trapped the phone against her ear and flipped her wet hair over, towel-drying it.

  “So why am I like the last person to find out about Owen’s impromptu trip to the Cape?”

  “Oh. That.”

  “That?” Summer echoed. “Don’t tell me your life is so dramatic now that your ex-fiancé showing up on your doorstep in the middle of the night to swear his undying affection and beg you back doesn’t so much as warrant a text? Email? Facebook emoji?”

  Poppy laughed. “OK, OK, I’m sorry! But in my defense, I’ve been . . . distracted.”

  Summer gasped. “I know that tone. Who is he? What’s his name? Did he duel Owen for your affections in the middle of the Sweetbriar town square?”

  “Not quite.” Poppy couldn’t help but laugh at Summer’s dramatics. “His name is Cooper. He’s . . . an old friend. And we’ve been getting reacquainted.”

  “You got laid, didn’t you? I can tell it from your voice. You sound all happy and shiny and bouncing with well-banged hormones.” Summer giggled. “Not that I’m not happy for you, but seriously? You go to the ends of the earth to be alone and work, and you still manage to find a hot guy. He is hot, isn’t he?” she added.

  “Smoldering.” Poppy grinned. “He just looks at me and I feel like I’m about to spontaneously combust.”

  Summer sighed happily. “I remember how that feels. God, I love the butterflies.”

  “It’s amazing,” Poppy admitted. “I wasn’t sure anything was going to happen. He kissed me, but then he acted like nothing happened. So I just went over there last night.”

  “You seduced him? Look at you.” Summer sounded impressed. “I knew my bad influence would rub off one day.”

  Poppy laughed. “You’re not so bad.”

  “Only because I don’t have the time,” Summer said, rueful. “It’s hard to live wild and reckless when you have to be up at five a.m. to start baking bread for the day.”

  “I told you, take a vacation,” Poppy said st
ernly. “Come visit.”

  “Does this Cooper have hot friends?”

  Poppy paused. “Actually, yes,” she said, thinking of Riley and Grayson. “Maybe it’s something in the water around here, makes the men all scruffy and gorgeous.”

  “Scruffy and gorgeous sounds good to me, but I’ll come see you just as soon as Andre gets that stick out of his snooty French ass.”

  “You should tell him that,” Poppy said, teasing.

  Summer hooted with laughter. “Can you just imagine his face? Or worse still, my mother’s?”

  “Maybe not.” Poppy winced. Summer’s mom was a famous TV chef who gave Martha Stewart and the Barefoot Contessa a run for their money. Summer had spent her life in her mother’s shadow—and trying to win her approval, too. “Anyway, tell me what I’m supposed to do now, with Cooper.”

  “You’ve done it once. You shouldn’t need a diagram.”

  “Summer! You know what I mean . . .” Poppy walked over to the window, which looked out over the construction site next door. Cooper was back: she could see his truck parked there now, and a new level of energy in the crew working on the roof. “I haven’t dated a guy in years. And this doesn’t even feel like dating, it’s just . . . Cooper. You know?”

  “Nope,” Summer replied cheerfully. Poppy could hear pans clattering in the background, and knew she was already back to work. “But you’ll figure it out. And if you run into problems, just follow my one simple trick.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Take off all your clothes. And if that doesn’t work, take off all of his, too. Usually that gets you through the bumpy parts.”

  Poppy laughed. “Good to know.”

  “It’ll be OK.” Summer’s voice turned serious for a moment. “You sound happy, that’s the important thing.”

  “Alright.” Poppy took a breath. “No awkwardness, no freak-outs, and when in doubt, get him naked again. I can do that!”

  “Atta girl.”

  Summer rang off, and Poppy slowly lowered the phone. As she watched through the window, she saw Cooper emerge from the site. He grabbed some lumber from the back of his truck, moving confidently through the chaos back inside.