Chapter Four

All my stories are like myths, legends.

~Rill Babcock

Lyse parked her car in Heather Ridge B&B parking lot. It took her forever to get from one end of town to the next. She hurried inside. With any luck, she could catch Coop before he left, maybe they could ride together. She jogged up the stairs and knocked on his door. No answer. She raced downstairs, skimmed the main living area. No one. The place was empty. Usually, a person or two reclined on the couches watching television or reading a book.

Laughter erupted from the kitchen.

“Lyse?” Felicia’s voice drifted from beyond the swinging door.

She stopped short.

“Yes,” said a woman Lyse didn’t recognize. “Your brother tricked her into coming to the reunion by putting a FIND ME heart in her box. Now, he’s used his sex appeal to tempt her out of the prime real estate space her family owns in Nashville.”

All the air wheezed out of her lungs.

“Marketing has been trying to get Mr. Haynes to sell or lease, but the family won’t give. Your brother’s company, Redfern, LLC doesn’t want to give up.”

Unable to move, speak, or do anything in her defense, she placed a shaky hand over her mouth to stop from telling them off. What good would it do anyway? Coop needed the tongue-lashing, not them. She turned on her heels, stormed upstairs, and banged again on his door. Still no answer. “Son of a bitch!”

At her door, she dug her key out of her jeans pocket and stuck it in the keyhole, missed, and tried again. Her anger blinded her enough, she couldn’t see straight. On the third try, it went in. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her.

“What the hell?” She paced the length of the room. The information she learned the last few days about Coop didn’t compare to this atrocity! He’s an evil fuckhead.

“I’ll show him. Let the candies work their magic.”

She jumped into the shower and a half hour later, she stared at herself in the mirror, and touched black eyeliner to her top lid. The cool shower hadn’t lessened her anger; her hand shook as she drew a line right above her eyelashes, the line coming out jagged. She snatched a makeup remover pad, wiped it off, and sucked in a deep breath before attempting again. This time, the line came out perfect.

At least, she didn’t have to fight with her hair by putting it up. Coop liked it bouncing around her shoulders. Since everything she did tonight focused on getting under his skin, she left it down, so he got the full impact of what he missed.

Dressed in what she hoped would knock Coop on his ass, she moved swiftly through the house avoiding the kitchen for fear of seeing Felicia and whomever she had spoken to earlier.

Thirty-five minutes later, she pulled into the high school’s full parking lot and backed out. “Damn!” She parked on a side street and walked toward the reunion with the most eloquence she could muster in four-inch heels, ignored the air chilling her skin, and pretended she didn’t possess legs as long as a giraffe that wobbled. The high heels, another getting-under-Coop’s-skin tactic, would have her topping him by two inches…easily, something he hated. “Ha!”

By the time she reached the door, her nerves jumped and her skin flushed. She inhaled and released the breath slowly and opened the door.

“Hi!” she said to her former soccer teammate, and so it went as she checked in, received her nametag, and walked inside the gymnasium. No one mentioned her graduation fiasco, no PIP.

Pink curtains draped the ceiling and hid the ugly brown walls. Spotlights ran along a track in the center, casting shades of purple and whites around the room. In the center of the room, a white tile dance floor with colorful strobe lights flashing beams of light over the area. “Breathtaking.”

“Yes, you are.” Coop’s voice flowed over her like candy dipped desire, snapping every erotic zone she possessed to life. He handed her a cocktail glass with juice in it. “Red never looked so good.”

Little sensations of the happy-dance variety skipped across her skin. She took in her cocktail dress with a heart-shaped cutout flaunting her cleavage. With her thirty-four inch inseam and the dress stopping mid-thigh, her endless legs no doubt made him notice. He loved legs long and shapely. Yes, the Valentine’s Day outfit perfected the let’s-get-under-Coop’s-skin theme. “Non-alcoholic, I assume.”

“School property.”

“The class president needs to have a better plan for the next reunion,” she snapped, refusing to release her anger. “I could use a shot.”

His intense gaze heated, increasing his potency. The exciting thrills she experienced the first day she returned to Heather Ridge when she saw him reappeared for a do-over. They paid no attention to his manipulation. She downed the juice as if it was strong liquor and moved to the table for some more. Felicia stood behind the punch bowl, her face impassive. “I heard you and your friend.”

Felicia filled her glass and handed it back to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Brows up, she sent her a you’ve-got-be-kidding glare.

“In the kitchen, not long ago.”

Felicia’s face fell. “No. Yaci’s mistaken. She—” Her words broke off, and her attention went to the person behind Lyse.

Coop. She didn’t have to see him to know he stood there. She felt his heat penetrating her.

He stopped, his shoulder brushing her back ever so slightly. “What did Yaci do?”

What they said came back ten-fold: he used his sex appeal to tempt her to sell Mom’s store. He used her. Him of all people. “How dare you?” She whipped around, the contents of her drink splashing over the rim of her glass onto him.

He snatched a napkin from the table, dabbed his sleeve.

She might be mad, but didn’t mean to spill her drink on him. “Sorry.”

He shoved the napkin in his pants pocket as if he expected it to happen again. “Catch me up to speed, Lyse. You vanished for a few days, and I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Fire lit into her and heat rose from her belly. “Don’t you dare speak to me about vanishing, you son of a bitch,” she snarled as if she’d taken lessons from her dog.

An announcement came over the loud speaker in the blaring way it had in high school. She didn’t understand what it said then and she didn’t now.

“You tricked me into coming here,” she said, not missing a beat. Someone stuck a box in her hand then put one in Coop’s. “To convince me to sell my mom’s store.”

“I did. I wish I hadn’t, but I don’t regret it. I won’t even apologize, but I will tell you I stopped all proceedings to purchase the store today. For the record, I had no idea that store belonged to your mother.”

Not good. He avoided fighting when she wanted to have a go at it. A mixture of reactions pinged around her like a pinball game. Her heart smacked the ball preventing it from hitting the desired mark while the dreaded “out hole” waved it in. She had to do something. If she didn’t argue, she’d end up in a puddle at his feet. It was his darn suit’s fault. He wore it extremely well, so well, she whimpered. She wanted to lick him like an ice cream cone. The “Lyse Find Me” flavor. “Why?”

“Simple. You’re it. You’re the one.” He shrugged. “I’ve been in some sort of love with you my entire life and I’ll never stop.”

Hell’s bells! The way he stuck simple sentences together turned her on. The geek!

“True, he has,” Felicia said and poured a glass of juice for a classmate, completely ignoring Coop’s glare.

“Will you dance with me?” he asked so sweetly, so full of compassion, she had no choice. “I would like to talk to you in private.” He held out a hand.

Close to him—her body against his—she wouldn’t be able to cling onto her well-earned mad. Why did she want to exactly? This was Coop, her friend, buddy, the person who knew all her secrets and crazy dreams. He held her when she missed her mother or whenever she was sad. Suddenly, the years that had separated them, poof, disappeared into thin air.

She slipped her hand into his, knowing the gesture meant more than a simple act for them to walk to the dance floor together. It meant acceptance.

His fingers closed over hers, and he nudged gently. He waited for her to move as if afraid she wouldn’t follow.

They stepped onto the dance floor as the band started a slow melody. He slid his hand around her waist and touched the cutout in the back of her dress. The low-level hum of arousal continuously surrounding them took a giant step forward, going from look-at-me to got-to-have-it faster than she could blink.

He must have felt it too since he rested his forehead to hers. His throat moved, indicating the chemistry snapping the air wasn’t one-sided. “I heard someone say, there’s no better feeling when a woman loves a man for who he is.” His breath passed over her face as he spoke. The scent so uniquely Coop urged her to want more, but he jumped to conclusions. “I haven’t said I love you,” she whispered, lying, because oh boy she did. She loved him when he wore his glasses, and she couldn’t see his eyes. When he wore high water jeans and looked like a goof. Now, his eyes boring into hers and him wearing a suit, looking like the best thing she’d ever seen, she was a goner. Completely and utterly gone.

He moved, and she almost fell. His arm tightened around her. Oh jeez. She’s on a dance floor, supposedly dancing, and her mind had left the stratosphere, much like her father did when he looked at her mother’s picture.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I see it in your eyes when you look at me. I see it in your face when you understand my intentions. I see it when you’re pissed. I reached for the stars to get my family out of debt, to get them on their own feet, but in here,” he pointed at his chest, “I always had the moon. The light behind everything I’ve done. You. You’re the moon who has always shown me the way. You made me the man I am today.”

Tears spilled onto her cheeks.

An irritating-screech came from the intercom, and the band stopped playing.

“Since the previous batch of candy was tainted,” someone, dressed like a teacher with a collar buttoned up to her neck, said from the stage where the band played. “Each single guest has received a new box. It’s time to open them.”

She glanced at the box in her hand, vaguely remembering someone putting it there.

“Don’t think,” Coop said. “Act. Do what your heart wants. If you believe your box holds the answer to your soul mate then by all means open it. But if you think you found your soul mate as a child, as I know I did, then…”

“Are you opening your boxes?” Felicia interrupted as she joined them.

In her soul, part of her always had known she’d found that someone special. Maybe that’s why whenever she thought of Coop her chest ached. It missed her other half. “I don’t need to see FIND ME on the candy to know who is meant for me.” She handed Felicia her box.

“No. We don’t.” He handed his box to his sister, too. Wrapping his arms around Lyse, he drew her closer until no space existed between them. “The candy is alive and well. Because of it, we’re together.” He spoke against her mouth and kissed her. Urgent, yet gentle his lips rubbed hers, his tongue slipping in and out of her mouth. He mimicked the act she couldn’t wait for them to do with other parts of their bodies. She moaned. The kiss picked up momentum. He deepened it by kissing her hard and long, until the got-to-have-it-now sensation tossed heat, lust, and desire over her body demanding she act or embarrass herself by humping his leg on the dance floor.

“I want you so badly,” she whispered against his mouth.

His groan vibrated her chest, pebbling her nipples. “Come on.” Hands intertwined, he led her into the low-lit hallway at the rear of the gymnasium and crowded her against the hall wall to kiss some more.

“Where to?” she managed to ask when he sucked in air to gain control. “Seriously, I’ll bust.” The ache low in her belly grew tighter. If he touched her, she’d explode. She’d rather them be alone and in a compromising position when she did.

“I have an idea,” he said. “Remove your shoes.”

“What? Why?”

“You can’t run in them.”

True. She did as he asked and picked up her heels by their straps. Again, he grabbed her hand and ran through the halls they’d walked in as teens doing the unthinkable, running, and heading for a make out spot. She giggled. Who cared, but it was fun. Sweet, actually. She’d done everything expected of her, earned good grades, helped her dad out at the travel agency. And now, she ran, planned to make out in school, and talk to Coop about Heathercream. She loved the idea of running one of his stores. The popular ice cream was sure to be a hit and would help her father with his financial situations.

They stopped in front of double doors leading to the weight room. He pushed on the lever, and it didn’t open. “Damn, it’s locked.”

“Don’t you have the school keys?” She stuck her hands into both of his pockets.

“I have a spare set, yes.” He shifted. “Careful. You think you’re gonna bust, try running with a hard on. It isn’t easy.”

She wanted to drop to her knees and stroke his long, hard length, but pushed the urge aside and tugged out a set of keys. “Is it on here?”

“Ah, yes.” He sighed, stuck it in the lock, and opened the door.

She squinted through the dimly lit room at the line of weight benches, and spotted a pile of mats on one side. “There.”

He pulled the door shut and locked it.

They raced to the mats. She tossed her shoes to the ground, tugged his suit jacket and tie to the floor, and latched onto the buttons of his shirt.

He managed to unzip the zipper at her side with one hand before she could get her suddenly clumsy fingers to cooperate. “Rip it.”

“You can’t go back to the reunion with a torn shirt.”

He chuckled. “The class nerd reappears in torn clothing with the woman of his dreams. The hell I can’t!” He grabbed the sides of his shirts and yanked. Buttons flew.

“Oh my God, I’ve created a monster.” She laughed.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” He removed her dress and staggered.

Wearing a low cut dress and forgetting to pack a strapless bra, she went braless. She stood before him in a black, lace g-string panty.

“You’re absolutely spectacular.”

His words turned her into a puddle of goo. “You, nerd-boy, need to strip.”

With a quirk of his lips and his magnificent honey-whiskey eyes directed on her, he unbuckled his belt and lowered his zipper as he toed off his shoes. His shirt and socks fell to the floor.

His well-honed body didn’t portray a guy who sat in a lab or kept his nose in books. When he’d cuddled her in his arms, his hard torso couldn’t be missed, but this amazing specimen she didn’t expect. “Wow! You’ve been hiding behind your messy clothes.”

“I don’t have messy clothes,” he said, sounding offended. He dropped his briefs and slid his hands around her hips until he cupped her naked butt cheeks. “Clothes are the last thing I want to talk about.” He dropped a kiss to her mouth, lowered to her neck.

His chest slid across her hardened nipples and she melted, moaning and arching her back. Her breasts craved his attention. He obliged, slid his tongue over a nipple, and kissed it. Loving each breast until her legs went slack. He raised her so she straddled his waist, his length against her core. She groaned at the contact.

He lowered her to the stack of mats and kissed her lips, her neck, breasts, and moved lower, sliding her panties down and off as he went. His tongue flicked her nub before diving into her.

“Oh, wow, fucking wow!” She grabbed his hair and hung on. His tongue kept pace with each thrust of her hips. She exploded, and he stayed with her, right there, until her body stopped quivering.

He picked up his pants and snatched a condom packet out of his wallet.

She lifted onto her elbows. “For emergency?” Jealousy knocked at the idea of him carrying the protection to be with any woman.

“I put it in my wallet for luck this morning.”

“Good answer,” she cooed.

As confident a man as she’d ever seen, he stood in front of her and rolled the condom over his impressive erection. So comfortable, as if they’d seen each other in these positions a million times.

“Nah, you’re the one that’s good.” He slid up her body the way he went down, kissing and licking until his lips reached her mouth and the tip of him touched her core. Bracing his elbows on either side of her head, he slid his fingers through her hair. “Ready?”

She panted. Anticipating him inside her was a whole new type of foreplay. “Are you serious? I’ve been ready.”

“Are you sure? Cause I can take the leisurely route.”

“Stop, and get inside me!”

He chuckled. “Now, you’re talking.” Their laugher dissipated with him entering her ever so slowly.

Exquisite sensations filled every feminine nerve cell. “Oh, my God!” She bucked and grabbed his butt.

“No, just Coop,” he whispered beside her ear then kissed the tip of her nose. “Okay.”

She got it. He wanted his name on her lips. “Coop, yeah.”

After a wonderful, blissful second, he moved, pulling almost out of her before thrusting forward. The act not fast, but purposeful; he wasn’t having sex, but making love. Tears surfaced. How had she not paid attention to this gorgeous, smart man who made her feel alive in every way? How had she even thought to look elsewhere? Moisture slid down her cheek. Easy, as teens he didn’t act interested in anything more from her than friendship. But holy moly in a hand basket, he was her heart and soul. He made her tick.

“Hey, no crying during sex,” he said tenderly, wiping his thumb over her cheek.

“I love you. I really, really love you.”

He locked his eyes on hers. The intensity so strong an orgasm threatened, but she refused to let it release. Their first time, they should explode together. “Lyse,” he said with such desperation he sounded like he needed her more than air.

Her body quivered, tightened, clenching hard around him. “Coop!”

“Lyse.” He growled her name. His body trembled as she took the whole weight of him on top of her. His face buried into her neck. She loved the feeling, his heart thundering against hers, but she didn’t get to encounter the full effect of him. With him, she wanted to feel it all.

Their breathing steadied and pulses resumed an easier pace.

“Marry me,” he said, shocking and exciting her. “We’ve been around each other for only few days, but you know me, inside and out.”

Physically they’d been apart, but her feelings for him had grown every day. She touched her chest, but it wasn’t to suppress the ache of pain rather to feel the ache of happiness. Amazing. Flat out amazing. “If I do, do I get to open up a Heathercream in my mom’s store? It’s the only way I’ll agree to marry you.”

He laughed and shifted until he met her eyes, his expression turning serious.

“We’re both saying yes?”

“Yes,” she said, never feeling more positive about anything.

****

Coop’s mind reeled at the turn of events. He arrived at the reunion, thinking he’d lost Lyse then asked her to marry him. Could life get any sweeter?

He helped her dress, slipping on her barely-there panties and zipping her dress. For good measure, he adjusted her breasts under the material to make sure it cupped her perfectly.

She playfully smacked his hand.

He dressed the best he could with popped buttons, sat on the mat, and put on his shoes. Next to him, she slipped on hers and grew taller. “You need higher heels.”

“What?” She stood in front of him. “I thought you didn’t like women taller than you?” she asked finger-combing her hair and checking her reflection in the metal bar on one of the bench presses behind him.

“Says who? If you were taller, your breasts would be in direct line with my mouth. No bending over.” He rose, grasped both breasts, and squeezed gently as he kissed her shocked mouth.

Let her stew on that for a minute. He loved her, but he knew she donned the sexy clothes to get to him. If someone compared him to silly putty when she strutted into the gym, they would have been accurate.

“We’re not going back like this, are we?”

His suit jacket covered most of the missing buttons. Between his tie and the one button that hadn’t ripped off, he looked presentable. “We don’t have much of a choice. I’m giving a speech later. Besides, you look thoroughly pleasured. I like it.”

“How will we explain where we’ve been?”

“Tell them we were busy getting engaged.” He unlocked the doors and pulled them open. “What do you say if I design your engagement ring? A heart-shaped diamond with FIND ME engraved on it?”

Her eyes grew wide. “Can you do that?”

“If there is a will, there’s a way.”

“I would love it.”

He laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand up to his mouth for a kiss. They walked the hall toward the gym and the loud music.

“Do you like dogs? I have one,” she said. “A Scottish terrier, named Scotty.”

“I love anything you have, sweetheart.” He opened the gym door, took in the filled room, and the dimly lit dance floor, and pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Lyse,” he said, cause he couldn’t say it enough and covered her mouth with his for another taste before he got busy with his responsibilities.

The loud speaker squeaked. “And there you have it!”

She nudged him with a hand to his chest to ease them apart. “For once, I understood the loud speaker, but what are they talking about?”

The lights clicked on, and he shielded his eyes with a hand. “What’s up?” he asked the man standing on the stage staring at them.

An orange object moved toward them. Squinting, he spotted Felicia’s hair racing toward them. “It’s true! It works!” His sister’s damp face reddened.

She looked as if she underwent several rounds in a boxing ring. No! Had some guy forced himself on his sister? He’d kill him.

Felicia stopped beside them. “The hearts…” She opened her palms. In each one, a white piece of candy. The words FIND ME written in Kelly green. “These were in each of the boxes you handed me.”

“Of course they were.” Science didn’t confirm any myth, but Lyse turned him into a believer. He held up his and Lyse’s joined hands, searched out his classmates whose faces finally came into view, and did a double take at Wallace’s scornful expression. He smiled. “We’re living proof, the myth is true. We’re engaged!”