“Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, his cheeks turning pink. “It’s for an insurance agency.”
“I’m so proud of you, Coop.”
“Thanks, babe.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand lightly. “About my staying here,” he says.
“I think we’re going to need to get comfortable for this one,” I say, standing and rinsing off my plate and putting it in the dishwasher. Cooper puts the cheese away while I take care of his plate and a few other dishes before we head to the living room.
“You have the space,” he says, once we are both sitting facing one another on the couch.
“That’s not the point, Coop. We’re supposed to be taking this slow.”
“I don’t think you know how hard that is for me.”
“Do you not think that this is hard for me? That’s the reason I asked us to take some time with this. I was supposed to be marrying another man not even two weeks ago.”
“I know that.” His voice is low. “I don’t need you to remind me you were supposed to be his. I don’t need you to remind me this is my chance to show you what you mean to me. I can rent a place or stay in a hotel, but I only have a couple of months before I have to go back to Indy. To my job. I want to soak up as much time with you as I can between now and then. I only have a small window of time to show you what you mean to me. I want to be here, Reese. I promise you I will respect any boundaries that you put into place. Just… please let me be here with you.”
I replay his plea over and over in my mind. He’s right. He’s going to be leaving, heading back to his life and his career. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but I do know that the more time I get to be with him, the harder it’s going to be for me to let go. Knowing that, it doesn’t stop me from saying, “Okay.”
“Yeah?” He leans in close. “Thank you.” He kisses me softly, a simple press of his lips to mine, maybe a couple of seconds, but it leaves me wanting more.
“Yes. But we will have boundaries.”
“Anything.” He grins.
I have a feeling the next several weeks are going to be an adventure.
Chapter 11
Cooper
I’ve been staying at Reese’s apartment for two weeks. Two weeks of locking myself in the spare room at night, in a weak attempt to not sneak into her room and cuddle up with her. So far, I’m holding strong. It’s been difficult, but I’m trying to respect her boundaries. This queen size bed seems larger than life without her lying next to me.
It’s been two weeks of pure bliss, though. I don’t know of any other way to describe it. One little word sums up the reality of my life. I love her more today than I did yesterday and even the day before. I’m confident I will love her even more tomorrow.
We have dinner together each night, and then lounge on the couch. We’ve spent a lot of time in, but that’s fine by me. I know she’s worried about running into Hunter while the wounds are still healing, and I understand. I know that’s hard for her, and I don’t mind keeping her to myself. Sure, I want the world to know she’s mine, but right now, she’s just that. All mine. I don’t have to share my evenings or weekends with her with anyone else. I’m loving every minute of it.
This weekend, however, is a little different. Reese has an event for the county at the local children’s home. She described it as a mini carnival for the kids. Local businesses donated prizes for the games. I know she’s stressing over it being enough. She wants the kids to have a great time.
“How many kids are there?” I ask Reese. It’s Saturday morning, and she’s just finished getting ready to leave.
“Ten rowdy boys.” She smiles.
“They’re all boys? Is it an all-boys home?”
“No, it just happened to be that way. We never know who is going to be staying at the home at any given time. New kids come in at all hours of the day, and some are getting fostered and even sent back to their families.”
“Is that a good idea? I mean, they were taken for a reason, right?”
“Yes. Some cases, yes, it’s a very good thing. Then there are cases that it’s not. It all depends on the reason they were removed from the home, and if that issue, whatever it might have been, has been resolved. It’s mostly drugs that we’re seeing.”
“Damn, babe. I don’t know how you do it.”
“It’s difficult, but I enjoy it. I just hate all the red tape. It’s really heartbreaking when you see the same child in and out of the home because the parents or guardians can’t seem to get it together.”
“I bet.” She’s tough, but I know this gets to her. She’s said several times over the last couple of weeks that she wishes she could do more. I dropped the hint she could look for a job in Indianapolis, closer to me. She kind of brushed off my suggestion. She might have forgotten or thought that I did, but I’m just buying my time to bring it up again.
“I need to get going.” She drapes her purse over her shoulder and grabs her keys from the table. “What are you doing today?”
“I don’t know yet.” It’s a lie. I know exactly what I’m doing today, but it’s a surprise for her.
“All right. Well, this goes until midafternoon. So, I won’t be home before then. I’ll see you tonight?”
Is that hope I hear in her voice? “I’ll be here.” I stand and follow her to the door. “Have a good day, babe.” Leaning in, I kiss her temple. “Love you.” She doesn’t say it back, but her eyes soften. I know she feels it. The love we share. She just needs a little more time to be convinced I’m not going anywhere.
I wait about ten minutes after she leaves to pull the boxes I’ve been hiding out of the closet. I called the public relations department of the Defenders and asked for some jerseys and other Defenders gear. I had them send some pink for the girls, but it looks like it’s just my girl who’s going to need that one. Her jersey was special order. I’ll take it today, just in case. I was going to leave all the other pink jerseys here, but I think I’ll just sign them too and leave them at the home for any future Little Miss Football Fans who might come through the doors.
I spend the next hour signing thirty jerseys, some foam footballs, and posters. Mary, the lady who handles the Defenders PR, also threw in some stickers and temporary tattoos. I rebox it all, and it doesn’t fit as well as it did before I unpacked it. Shrugging, I leave the lid open, grab my keys, phone, and tap my back pocket to make sure I have my wallet. Thankfully, there is an elevator. I’m not about to try to break my neck carrying this big-ass box down the stairs to get to my truck.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m pulling into the parking lot of the children’s home. I leave the box in the back seat for now as I go in search of Reese.
“Hi, can I help you?” a teenage girl asks. She’s wearing a name tag that reads Sage and has volunteer written underneath it.
“Hi, Sage. I’m looking for Reese Latham.”
“Sure, is she expecting you?” she asks, sounding way more grown up than she looks.