Temporarily Yours(37)

“Because you’ve been quiet for three minutes.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “Just…staring at me.”

Her cheeks went red hot, but she forced a smile. He wouldn’t know. He could never know. “Well, in my defense you’re quite fun to look at.”

“Yeah?” His lips twitched. “Back ‘atcha, sweetheart.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” He lightly ran his hands up and down her sides, making chills dance over her body. “Are we busy?”

“Um, let’s see…the family dinner is tonight, but the rest of the morning and afternoon are wide open. Susan wanted to be able to sleep in and relax the day before the wedding, instead of all that rehearsal dinner crap the night before. That’s why we did it last night instead of tonight.”

“So we have a few hours before we report for duty?”

“Yep.” She rolled to her feet and headed for the bathroom. “Why? What do you want to do?”

He followed her, then leaned against the doorjamb, right next to the spot where she’d watched him take her in front of the mirror. Had that been only yesterday?

“How about if you show me the town? Your old haunts, or maybe your old school?”

She cringed. She’d hated high school…falling perfectly into the majority statistic. About seventy-three percent of kids hated high school. The only ones that didn’t were the cool kids. “Hmmm… That sounds awfully real. Why would you want to see my old school?”

“Because you went there,” he said, his voice soft. “Please?”

“Cooper…” she said, drifting off. And when he looked at her, all warm eyes and hard abs and sexy lips…who was she to say no? “All right. We’ll do it.”

“Fuck yeah. Let’s do this,” he quipped.

She closed her eyes for a second at the onslaught of feelings those words brought about. And then she sucked it the hell up and got in the shower.



Wondering how she was going to get him out of her life now that she’d already let him in.





Chapter Fifteen

The tall high school rose above them, extending into the overcast sky. What had started out as a sunny, bright day had quickly changed over to fog and drear. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were in for a storm. A big one. He wondered what Susan would think about that. She’d probably been hoping for clear skies—not clouds and downpours.

But hadn’t he heard someone say that rain was good luck for a wedding?

“What are the odds for bad weather tomorrow?” he asked, turning to Kayla. “You should know, right?”

She blinked at him. “Um, not really. I’m an actuary, not a weatherman.”

“Is there a difference?” He wrapped her hand in his, tugging her around the back of the building. “Both look at the facts and spew out statistics at the general population, right?”

“Well when you put it that way…” She grinned and looked up at the sky. Her graceful neck arched just right, and it made him pause. Since when had he been enthralled by a woman’s neck, for fuck’s sakes?

“I’m waiting.”

“I know. I’m thinking.” She shot him an annoyed look. “I’ll put it at a fifty percent chance of rain.”

“See? You even sound like a real weatherman.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s okay. Rain is good luck for a wedding, contrary to popular belief. So it’s a good thing.”

“I thought I heard that somewhere.” He led her toward the football field in the back. “So, tell me the truth. Were you on that field kicking your legs up and shaking your ass for all of the boys?”

She frowned at the field. “Not even close.”

“Really? With that ass,” he palmed her backside through the jeans, “and with that body,” he trailed his fingers over her hips. He loved the way they curved so gracefully. “I’d have put my money on you being a cheerleader. Maybe even chief cheerleader.”

“Well, you would have lost.” She gave him a small smile. “Sadly, I was pretty much the furthest thing from a cheerleader.”

“Hmm.” He tapped a finger on his chin. “The jock?”

“Puh-lease.”

“The math-a-lete?”

“Closer.” She headed toward the field, her gaze on the bleachers. “I did like numbers, but that’s not a shock, I’m sure.”

“All right. I give up. What were you?”

She sighed. “I was in the five percent of the adolescent population that stayed in orchestra throughout high school.”

He almost laughed, but didn’t. He thought back on their time together. She had a habit of tapping her fingers when she was nervous or irritated. And for some reason, he thought for sure she must play the violin. He had no idea why. It was just a hunch, so he went with it. “Violin?”