Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Is this really the first time something can be too good to be true—and still be true?
I unlock the bathroom door, then glance out of it. I can still hear the soft tapping of computer keys from his room. I quietly step into the hall, then come to the edge of his doorway, peering inside. He’s at a desk in the corner of the room by a large window, which shows the back porch and the beach, with a laptop opened in front of him next to a lamp. His bed is twice the size of the couch and seems as comfy as a cloud.
He senses me and looks over.
His eyes drop to my bare wet chest where they linger for a second, as if caught in a spider’s web.
Why does that tiny shift of his eyes to my chest make my heart race excitedly?
The next instant, he snaps his gaze away. “Those clothes I left folded up on the counter were for you. They should fit you better than the ones you had. Plus, they’re clean. They’re all yours.”
I bite my lip, studying his expression. “I’m just cooling off. Can’t I cool off for a bit?”
“Of course. Take your time. I’m just …” After another glance at my chest, he makes a halfhearted gesture at his computer. “… working.”
I liked the way he looked at me just now. When I know I’ve got a guy’s figurative balls in my grip, I feel more in control. I feel safer—assuming I don’t tease said balls too much and find my head in the lion’s mouth.
Maybe I shouldn’t press that button too quickly; it isn’t wise to count my sheep before I’ve actually got them.
“Need anything else?” he asks, typing away.
“No, sir,” I say.
Then I blink.
Sir …?
Did “sir” just seriously come out of my mouth?
His typing stops. “If you need anything else, Sunny, then just let me know. I’ll be going to bed soon.”
“Me, too.”
He nods, then returns to his work.
I wander back to the living room. Through the sliding back door, I can see distant waves crashing on the shore, lit only by the sparkle of the moon’s light shattering over the water and causing the wet sand to glow, bright and crystalline. The breeze stirs a wooden wind chime hanging on the porch, which clanks and rattles musically. I watch it, the air of the living room feeling cold and crisp against my damp, exposed skin.
I’m so far from sleep right now.
Quietly, I return to his doorway and peek in. He closed his laptop and is pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes shut, looking troubled. I watch him for a moment as he just sits there, motionless except for the subtle rising and falling of his chest as he breathes.
I’m slowly getting the sense Cooper is a complex man. Everyone on the island knows him, but he lives alone. His bar is his pride and joy, he seems financially stable, has a nice roof over his head, yet looks unsatisfied somehow.
I wonder if anyone truly knows Cooper.
The moment he lifts his head, I vanish from sight, then slip back into the bathroom. The clothes he offered are still there, folded neatly, awaiting me.
It’s so easy and difficult to accept help.
Fuck it.
I take off the towel and hang it on the rack to dry. Then I pull on the gray boxer-briefs, followed by the blue shorts, and finally I tug the white t-shirt over my head. The shirt is a little snug at the pits, but it fits good otherwise. I gaze at myself in the mirror for a moment, then stare down at the clothes I took off earlier. I rummage through them, fish out the thirty bucks, and shove the cash into my new shorts. I consider the rest of my dirty clothes piled atop my shoes, unsure what to do with them. Gathering them up, I take the pile out to the couch, where I tuck them under the pull-out, then sit on the mattress next to them like a guard dog.
The silence of the room fills my ears.
I hear footsteps. Cooper appears in the hall. “I’m gonna take a quick shower. You need anything before I go in?”
I look at him, startled. His face is so handsome when he looks all serious like that, his eyebrows pulled together and his jaw set tightly, causing dimples to appear in his cheeks. His frame is so broad and powerful-looking, I have to admit it’s difficult not to think things while he looks at me that way.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched. Even just to be held. Comforted. Even longer since I had someone I cared about stroke my hair or caress me, let alone kiss me.
I would let him caress me.
I would let him kiss me.