Page 38 of This Time Around
More wine was necessary if I was going to torture myself by watching the insanely beautiful model dish about how much she loved the man living in my backyard.
A thud hit my back door and my steps moved quicker, my socks sliding over the tiled floor but by the time I reached my kitchen, Cooper was standing on the entry rug, the door slamming behind him.
I slid to a stop right as he shook his head like my old Blue Heeler Shepherd Mix.
“You look like a drowned rat.”I grabbed a towel flung over one of my cupboard door handles and tossed it to him.
“Thanks.”He scrubbed his face and pushed it through his hair.“It’s pouring out there.”
“Welcome to Kansas.”Turning, I refilled my glass and set it down.
My heart was beating strangely.I’d probably had too much to drink.
“Did you need something?”My knuckles ached and I looked down.I was grabbing the countertop.Why was I acting so weird?I shook out my hands as I registered athunkfollowed by another.
“Yeah, electricity.Mine’s out and I couldn’t find flashlights or candles.”
“You lost electricity?”I spun and looked out the kitchen window over the sink.Outside was pitch black where I usually saw a glow from his lights.Not that I ever looked or checked on him.“How strange.That never happens.”
“It did.”His voice was muffled and I saw him bent over, refrigerator door opened.He pulled back, popped the top off a beer, and shut the door.The beer top flicked into the air, hitting his target of the garbage can and he took a large swallow.
His throat bobbed.His hair was wet.He’d taken off his jacket but the shirt under it was still wet, along with the cargo shorts he was wearing.
He was dripping water all over my kitchen floor.
“So you decided to come here and make my house wet?”
“No.”He scowled.“I came here to make sure you were okay.And to have a beer.”
He grinned.That stupid grin that reached his eyes and made them sparkle.
“I’ll go get you some dry clothes.Don’t move.”
I twisted and moved to leave the kitchen, stopping myself from thinking about what I was doing.“No offense, Becca, but I don’t think your clothes will fit me.”
He’d meant it as a joke.
Becca.One word a dagger to my heart and I pressed a hand to my chest.
I’d always been Rebecca.Always.My mother never allowed a nickname and had no problems correcting anyone, especially me when I insisted on being Becky.But Joseph, he got away with it.Only because he started saying it when he was growling it in my ear when we were making love.It’d be torn from his throat while he reached his peak, like it was too painful to say my entire name.
And it’d been beautiful.So beautiful just the mere whisper of Becca in my ear, regardless of whether we were in the fields, the kitchen…church…it didn’t matter.He whispered that word and my body went from focused on the task at hand to ready to jump in a millisecond.
Damn it.
I double-timed it to my bedroom and to my dresser.
I yanked opened the bottom drawer and fell on my ass.I hadn’t opened these drawers in months.
Joseph’s clothes.All of them.Neatly folded.Plaid pajama pants and sweatpants.Plain white T-shirts would be in the drawer above that.Socks one more drawer up.His belts were in the narrow drawer above that.Everything, exactly how it’d been.
“Shit,” I muttered.“What the hell am I doing?”
My knees hit my chest.My hands went to my head and I pressed my palms to the sides, my fingernails digging into my scalp.
“Don’t cry.Don’t cry.Don’t cry.”
I grabbed what I needed.I couldn’t think about this.How Cooper was right.Joseph waseverywhereso much so that if I went to the bathroom, his freaking toothbrush would still be in the holder next to mine.
