Then she was back to that day in her bathroom. This time, though, when Coop came in and asked her what she was doing as she sat on the black marble vanity, she didn’t hand him the positive pregnancy test. It disappeared from her hand entirely.
“Holland?” He asked, “what are you doing in here, all alone, when you know I’m out here on this bed, waiting for you?”
He took a few steps into the bathroom and gently held her hips.
“And what are you going to do about it?” Cynthia replied, leaning in so her lips brushed his, then pulling away when he came closer. She kept him at bay with a hand against his chest, her fingers feeling his strength through his thin black tee shirt as he tried to kiss her. She dug her nails gently into his chest.
“Don’t you dare come any closer, David Cooper.”
“Or what?” He asked, playing along with the game. He smiled and his green eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Or… you’ll be sorry.” She tried to keep a straight face, but as soon as she looked into his eyes the illusion that she wanted him away from her vanished.
“Will I?” He asked, running his strong hands through her hair. He leaned in and kissed her neck. Lightly at first, he worked his way down to her collarbone, intensity growing as he went. She squirmed and let out an involuntary moan as his lips and teeth dug into her.
“Still want me to stay away?” He whispered.
“No,” she said breathlessly, caught up in the moment, “please don’t.”
Suddenly, his hands closed on her hips, and in one swift movement he lifted her off the counter and he threw her playfully over his shoulder.
“Coop! Put me down!” She laughed, teasingly flailing around. She felt his solid body under hers as she playfully squirmed. She couldn’t have gotten away if she had wanted to. But of course, she didn’t want to.
He slapped her ass and dropped her onto her back on the bed. Coop pulled his shirt over his head and dropped it onto the floor next to him. She sat up and reached for his broad chest but he easily pushed her back onto the bed with one hand.
“Get back down there, Holland,” his gruff voice awakened something in her. She needed him. Coop gently slid his hands underneath Cynthia’s white tee shirt and pulled it over her head. She reached up to kiss him and he wrapped his hands around her back, simultaneously lifting her closer and unclasping the hook of her bra. He moved his hands to her breasts and gently teased her nipples with his thumbs. She felt herself get wet for him.
Cynthia sat up and slipped her fingers into the waist of his jeans, grabbing hold to pull him towards her. He laughed as he knelt on the bed, straddling her. She undid his fly and slid his pants down past his hips, revealing the strong outline of his manhood pushing against his black boxer briefs. She ran her hands up his thighs. Coop grabbed her hands and stopped her.
“I’ll give it you, babe. Trust me. But what are you rushing for?” He whispered, smiling at her.
Coop kissed her neck and moved downward to her chest. His lips lingered over her nipples, sending jolts of electric lust through her body. He worked his way down her stomach. Cynthia didn’t think she could take it much longer. She needed him inside of her. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back up so their lips met.
“I want to fuck you,” she said, her forwardness surprising her.
“Holland,” he said slowly, “you will. But not yet. I want to make you come first.”
A small moan escaped Cynthia’s lips. Coop kissed her slowly and started to pull off her jeans. She reached down and shook her hips a bit, helping him get them off of her faster. He pushed back to the end of the bed and let out a low moan as his tongue started to explore her.
“I love the way you taste.”
Hearing him say that turned her on even more. She reached down and ran her hands through his thick dark hair. She arched her back as he gently kissed and sucked her, her pleasure building with each movement he made. Just when she thought she was going to lose control, he stopped.
He stood up at the end of the bed and pulled off his black boxer briefs, showing her his huge erection. He stroked it for a moment, looking at her.
“I need you in me,” she begged, sitting up to grab him and pull him on top of her. He straddled her and kissed her hard. She could taste herself on his lips. She reached for his shaft and rubbed it up and down a few times in her hand before guiding him to her. As he pushed inside of her, she shivered with pleasure. Coop groaned on top of her and kissed her with urgency, pressing his tongue in her mouth. She grabbed his hips and forced him further into her. He was so big that it felt as though he may split her open, but she still wanted more of him. He found a rhythm and built up intensity until Cynthia thought she was going explode. She was approaching the point of no return when he pulled away from her and disappeared to the end of the bed. She gasped involuntarily with his sudden movement and looked up to see him bury his face between her legs.
Cynthia lost all control. She pushed her hips back and forth, grinding against his face. Her pleasure built quickly. As she reached the point of no return, she gasped, squeezed her thighs, and although she tried to stile the scream that came, there was no way she could have. The gratification was just too much, it took over her entire body and made her forget everything else.
Cynthia woke up with a start. She took a deep breath and tried to hold onto her dream as it slowly slipped away from her. She was aching for contact. She reached for Glen next to her. Still half asleep, he stirred a bit and moved closer to her.
“Let me get up and get cleaned up a bit,” he said, awkwardly shifting to the other side of the bed and shuffling off to the bathroom.
Cynthia knew this meant he wasn’t interested. She threw on a big, soft beige sweater over a pair of leggings and went downstairs to make herself some coffee. Glen was never in the mood to do anything. Except work. His obsession with her father’s firm made her sometimes question if that’s why he married her. A life with someone would be a lot to invest for a job, but if someone were capable of it, it was Glen.
Cynthia looked out the window at the house across the street. It had been vacant for a while now. The guy who used to live there died after his wife left and took the kids. He was a nice guy, and the sadness of his death was intensified by the fact that no one noticed he had stopped coming and going for three weeks. Everyone on the block acted like they were a close knit, caring community. But in the aftermath of his upheaval, in his most urgent time of need, no one had bothered to check in on him for over three weeks. Eventually his ex-wife came over after he no-showed at court and found him laying on the media room floor with a steak knife lodged in his jugular. He was eating dinner in front of the TV when he got up for something and tripped. He was also packed full of painkillers.
That was maybe six months ago. Today, the interior lights were on and a moving van was parked in front of the driveway. Cynthia picked up the phone to call her mom. No one loved neighborhood gossip more than Nancy Holland.
“Hello dear,” Nancy answered the phone in her usual manner.
“Mom, someone’s moving in. At the dead guy’s house.”
“Cynthia! That’s so insensitive,” her mother scolded.
“Whatever. You know what I mean. People are moving in.”
“What do they look like? A family? Let’s go for a walk and check it out.”
“Mom it’s December, a walk isn’t casual, it’d be obvious we were spying.”
“Oh, you’re no fun. Let me know when you see them. We should bring something over; welcome them to the neighborhood. I’ll have Roberta whip something up.”
“Okay, yeah, I’ll let you know. Bye, Mom.”
“Bye, honey.
It was kind of a bummer that her only friend in the neighborhood was her mom. She had the fleeting thought to call Coop. He would want to make up a crazy story with her about the new neighbors being spies or assassins. Maybe even celebrities. She couldn’t stop thinking about him since last night’s dream.
>
Maybe she could call Ryan, he would definitely have something to say. But she needed to keep her distance form Ryan. He had suspected something. He was the one who knew something was wrong after she and Coop parted ways and she went to law school. He would call, show up on announced, and pry. She felt terrible, but she had no choice but to keep him at arm’s length.
A black Mercedes SUV was slowly working its way up the snowy street. As it got closer, Cynthia saw it was packed so full that the three passengers barely had enough room for themselves. It came to a stop in front of the house. A man in his mid to late forties got out first, followed by a woman around the same age. Both were tall, blonde, and layered in what looked like was everything they owned. The woman leaned into the backseat of the car and, after some maneuvering, helped a child out of a car seat and onto the road. The little girl was so bundled up that Cynthia could only see her long, thick dark hair sticking out from under her winter hat. The girl paid no attention to the slippery surface of ice and snow that covered the street and front lawn of her new home. She sprinted excitedly toward the front door. Cynthia smiled. She would have done the same thing.
The parents stayed outside to unpack the car. Out of the corner of her eye, Cynthia saw a couple walking down the street in the direction of the new neighbors. She quickly recognized her mother, holding the flowers from the centerpiece last night. The Holland’s housekeeper Roberta was in tow, her hands loaded with pans and packages that could only be leftovers from last night’s dinner. Cynthia laughed. Nancy certainly didn’t waste any time.
Cynthia pulled on a coat and stepped into a pair of LL Bean boots by the door. If her mother had already broken the ice she might join in on the investigating.
She crossed the street just as her mother was greeting the new neighbors.
“You’re going to love it here; it’s such a great community,” Nancy was saying as Cynthia got within earshot. Seeing Cynthia, Nancy reached for her and pulled her into a side hug.
“This is my daughter, Cynthia. She loved it so much she bought the house right across the street!” Nancy laughed.
Cynthia squirmed out of the hug and extended her hand to the neighbors.
“Hi, I’m Cynthia Dowd. Welcome to the neighborhood,” she took a random pan from Roberta and held it out to them.
“I made this for you.”
“Well bless your hearts, the both of you! How nice!” The woman’s southern drawl dripped through the cold air. Southerners. Suddenly their excessive layering and lack of winter coats made sense.
“I’m Laura, but you can call me Bunny. And this is my husband, Clive,” she gestured towards the man next to her.
“Pleased to meet ya,” Clive said in his own sweet Southern twang.
“Not used to these Northeast winters, huh?” Cynthia offered.
“Oh no dear, not in the slightest! We have some shopping to do, ain’t that right, Clive?”
“Certainly is, but then again, don’t you always have some shopping to do, Bunny?”
“Oh you stop that, Clive! Not in front of our new friends!” Bunny laughed, and slapped her husband’s arm.
“Now, am I mistaken or did I see an adorable little girl with you earlier?” Nancy asked, looking around.
“Yes, that’s our Tara,” Bunny replied.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” A high little voice rang out. The little girl Cynthia had seen earlier shot from the house. Her hat was knocked askew.
“I found my room, Mommy, it’s pink! It’s pink just like you said it was!” Her excited shouts were a miniature version of her parents’ Southern accents.
Clive reached down and scooped her up, surprisingly nimble for a man his age.
“Great find, Tara, but your mom and I were just talking, and I think I want that room, is that okay with you?”
“Daddy no! Daddy, it’s pink. And pink is for girls,” she said, matter of factly.
“That’s right, pink is for Daddy’s little princess. The room is all yours. Tara, say hello to our new friends, Mrs. Holland and Mrs. Dowd,” he shifted Tara in his arms so she could see Cynthia and Nancy. Tara brushed her dark hair out of her eyes and looked directly at Cynthia.
“And how old are you, my darling?” Nancy asked, reaching over to fix the child’s hat more snuggly on her head.
“Six,” Tara replied, holding up that many fingers.
“Wow, very good! A smart little girl, just like her parents, I’m sure. Isn’t that right, Cynthia?”
Cynthia searched for something to say, but she physically couldn’t get the words out. She was captivated by Tara’s gorgeous, deep, sparkling green eyes. They seemed so familiar. It was like looking into another pair of green eyes that she knew all too well. Coop’s.
“Cynthia?” Nancy repeated, but Cynthia only offered another stretch of silence as she noticed the beautiful brown silkiness of Tara’s hair. Such a rare combination, green eyes and brown hair.
“I’m sorry,” she finally managed, “I’m not feeling well.”
In a daze, Cynthia stumbled for a couple steps backwards before turning and cutting across the lawn in the general direction of her house.
“She’s come down with something, started last night, I think,” Nancy explained to Clive and Bunny as Cynthia made her way home.
That was odd, Cynthia thought. She could have sworn that those green eyes were Coop’s. Except… it wasn’t possible. Thinking about it logically, Cynthia arrived at the obvious conclusion; she was imagining things. Her exchange with Coop and the digging into the box she had done the other night was getting to her. She was simply seeing a child similar in age and coloring that hers would have been and letting her imagination get the better of her. Wasn’t she?
At home, Cynthia dropped her coat on the rug in the entryway and paced up and down the hall. She heard Glen moving around upstairs. She had to do something. This was getting too big to carry herself; she was full on hallucinating now.
She decided she would talk to Glen. Tell him everything. See what he thought. He was rational. He could help. She took a few quick steps in the direction of the stairs and stopped in her tracks, pulling her hair at her scalp. What was she thinking? There was no way she could confide in Glen like that. He would… well, he wouldn’t completely lose it on her, because that wasn’t Glen. He would probably do what he did whenever they had to deal with something. He would shut down. He would say nothing and never mention it again. She couldn’t have him pulling further away from her than he already was, what would that do for their marriage?
Coop flashed into her mind. But that was a rabbit hole she didn’t want to fall into. Who do people tell these things to? Her only friends were work colleagues. She’d lost touch with everyone from college and had kept her distance from everyone in law school because of her pregnancy. Anyone she still occasionally talked to from high school was no one she wanted knowing this. That was the drawback to living in the town where you grew up. News like this would travel like wildfire.
With no other choice left, Cynthia took a deep breath, picked up her coat, and walked to her mom’s house.
Cynthia avoided looking in the direction of Clive and Bunny’s as she crossed the street. She pushed open the heavy door of her mother’s house and called inside.
“Mom?”
“Cynthia? We’re in here, honey!” Her mom called from the kitchen.
“Good for you!” Nancy said, continuing the conversation Cynthia’s entrance had briefly interrupted, “I was done with my baby making by thirty-five. There was no way I could have done a pregnancy in my forties.”
“Oh, honey,” Cynthia recognized Bunny’s drawl instantly, “between you and me, I’m dryer than a dessert in a drought. Couldn’t carry one if I tried. And believe me, did we try,” she laughed, “she’s adopted. Some poor girl did all that work and then gave her right to me.” The women cackled together.
Cynthia froze in the living room. A dark haze closed in on her and she desperately stretched for the support
of an armchair, which was just out of reach, as she felt herself fall.
Chapter 3: Odessa, Texas
Cynthia sat in the waiting room examining the poorly illustrated PSA posters on the walls and thought about how ridiculous it was that she was here. After she fainted in her mother’s house three days ago, Nancy had insisted that a professional examine her. Cynthia can still hear the ringing of “Bless her heart!” that she had woken up to.
Every moment since Cynthia found out that Clive and Bunny adopted their daughter had been torture for her. When she did sleep, which was rare, she was violently awoken by nightmares and flashbacks of giving birth and signing her child away.
One night, while Glen was out at a work dinner, she drank a few glasses of red to get herself to sleep. She barely remembered it the next morning, but she had picked up the phone and called Coop’s number. It was 2:00am and he hadn’t picked up, but she left a voicemail. She had no idea what she said, but she knew it couldn’t have been good. Her mother was right; there was definitely something wrong with her, but this doctor’s visit wasn’t going to help.
Cynthia shifted in her faux leather seat and looked around the room at the others waiting to be seen by the doctor. An elderly couple sat across from her. The woman had fluffy white hair and wore a white dress shirt with navy slacks. She was engrossed in a book while her husband, dressed down in jeans and a short-sleeved flannel top snoozed in the chair beside her. She looked wise and kind. Cynthia wondered if she would listen to her. Maybe she would know what to do. Maybe she, too, had watched another woman raise her child.
“Dowd?” A pretty blonde nurse in bright blue scrubs emerged from the inner maze of the office. She was young, probably around the age Cynthia was when she had her baby. Her eyes looked kind. A moment of silence followed.
Romance: Pummel Me: A Boxing Romance Page 15
