Page 20 of Dream Weaver (Spellbound in Sedona #3)

ABBY

It had been a long time since I’d had a night to myself. I was giddy with delight but riddled with guilt too. Shouldn’t I be at home, missing my daughter?

No, I told myself firmly. I should be enjoying the best night I’d had in years.

Cooper, in the vehicle ahead of me, waved. I could just make out his silhouette.

I grinned and flashed my lights in reply.

Yes, I’d insisted on taking my own car — and going to his house, because I wasn’t ready to bring a man into Claire’s and my private space. And as for taking my car… Well, a smart woman kept an escape pod handy, no matter how nice a guy seemed. Still, it was hard to imagine Cooper as anything but sweet and sensitive. If there was any problem, it would be me.

My knuckles turned white from my tight grip on the steering wheel.

Don’t ruin this, I ordered myself, again and again. Just loosen up and have fun.

But I was out of practice and scarred by past mistakes.

What I needed was a pep talk, and now. I grabbed my phone, hit a button, and waited for my sister to reply.

“Hello?” Erin’s voice crackled over the speakerphone.

“Hi. It’s me.”

My sister, bless her, went right on high alert. “Is everything okay?”

Very okay, my girl parts sighed happily.

“Yes. Claire is at her sleepover, and Lana texted to say they’re having a great time. I just wanted to ask if you could…um…uh…”

Erin waited as I stuttered, then finally cut in. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Yes! It’s just that I might need you to feed the animals tomorrow morning, in case I’m…um…uh…not home.”

“Not home? Where else would you— Oooh.” She stretched the word out in slow realization, making my cheeks heat.

Still, that was better than Pippa’s reaction would have been — a squeal, no doubt, followed any a cheer of You go, girl! Enjoy every minute of your night.

Yes, there was a reason I’d called Erin, the oldest and calmest of us sisters, instead. She wouldn’t begrudge the favor either. She’d been encouraging me to “find a new friend” for years.

Pippa tended to put it less delicately. When are you finally going to get laid?

Well, here I was, doing just that. On my way, anyway.

“Feeding can wait until you’re back from work,” I hastened to add, just to get past the weighty pause that ensued.

“Um, sure. I should be back by ten.” As a balloon pilot, Erin worked ridiculously early hours.

“Okay, thanks. Bye.”

“Have fun,” she said softly.

“Bye,” I repeated and hung up before I died of shame.

Still, I continued fretting. Was I being a negligent mother? A cruel animal owner? Was I doing the right thing?

Doubts stacked up on one side of my mind, but anticipation — and a revving libido — tipped the scales all the way over to the other side. And when I replayed what we’d just done…

The engine revved, and I had to hit the brakes not to slam into Cooper’s truck from behind.

Yeah, I wanted this all right.

I followed him out of town, down a side street, and along a long, bumpy road, where modest homes sat on three-acre plots. A few kept horses, and most had cars that could almost pass as landscaping, thanks to the thick greenery springing up around the tires. Cooper pulled into the driveway of the last “house” on the left — a neatly kept trailer home — but didn’t stop there. A faint track continued past it, winding around scrub and trees to a small cabin in a private corner of the property.

Cooper parked, slid out of his car, and waited for me.

My heart pounded. I wanted this. I deserved this. But part of me wanted to spin into a U-turn and run back to my safe place.

He stuck his hands deep into his pockets, waiting patiently.

My heart warmed. The man was a saint.

Well, okay, maybe not a saint, because they weren’t supposed to succumb to carnal desires in metal shops. But a very good man, indeed.

I parked in the spot next to his and slid out, trying not to overthink this.

“Wow,” I breathed, sidetracked by the view.

He found my hand and squeezed. “Pretty nice, huh?”

Trees sheltered the driveway side of the house, but the other side was open to the views. And what a view! Soldier Pass, Brins Mesa, Coffee Pot Rock…

“Wow,” I said again.

Seeing familiar landmarks from a fresh angle was like seeing them for the first time. I turned to Cooper, and that was similar: same guy, different setting. A very private setting, at his home.

He kissed me, then led me inside.

“It’s not much, but it works. You know, for a season,” he said, flicking on the lights.

His cheeks went a little pink, and my heart fluttered too. Would he really leave after only one season?

Or as long as I decide to stay, his eyes seemed to add. Even plead.

I want you to stay, I burned to reply, but I couldn’t squeeze out the words.

“It’s nice,” was all I managed to croak.

We glanced around for a long, quiet minute, trying not to look directly at the bed pushed up against the opposite wall of the one-room cabin. The entrance was behind me, and a fireplace and kitchenette took up the remaining two sides. A beat-up sofa faced the hearth, and an old braided rug separated the areas of the house.

It needed updating, but it sure had character.

Cooper stepped to the fireplace, lit the kindling already set over the woodpile, and returned to me once it was crackling quietly.

“Nice,” I murmured, tossing my jacket over a chair. A bad move, maybe, because I didn’t know what to do with my hands after that.

My eyes slid to the bed, then back to Cooper. Where exactly did we start?

“Sorry. I’m a little out of practice,” I finally admitted.

He flashed a shy smile. “Me too.”

I snorted. “You’re talking to a former firefighter here. I’ve seen the groupies, believe me.”

Loneliness was not a common ailment among young, buff firefighters. Not on off-duty Friday nights, at least.

He shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“No?” I winced at an unwelcome thought. “What about what’s her name — Greta?”

His expression was one of stoic suffering. “My mom has been trying to get us together for years. That way, I can move in next door to my parents and live happily ever after, adding to their collection of adorable grandkids who grow up to become firefighters. Never mind that I’m not actually interested in Greta, or that Greta isn’t interested in me.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, trying not to reserve judgment. But, yikes. How dumb was Greta?

Then I caught myself. How dumb was I for hemming and hawing when I had a chance at a very nice night?

I took a step closer, then another, keeping my eyes on his chest — an unmissable target that kept me focused.

My heart skipped, and my body heated just from the proximity.

“Greta’s not into firefighters, huh?” I whispered, resting my hands on his ribs.

“Not this one anyway.” His voice was a low rumble.

“Maybe when she discovers what an ace blacksmith you’ve become…”

He laughed, looping his arms around my shoulders. “An ace assistant, at best.”

The best, my soul whispered.

I raised my eyes to the level of his chin…his lips…his nose…and we eased into a kiss. That meant rolling to my toes and pressing against his chest.

Whoosh! Flames fanned through my veins.

Cooper smoothed his hands over my back, then cupped my head gently, deepening the kiss. And, wow. The man was a master of combining soft with hard and gentle with sheer power . Which fit, I supposed, for a man who could turn into a bear capable of killing — or cuddling.

His tongue brushed over mine, and when he ran a hand down my back and over my rear, I nearly moaned.

I ran my hands over the soft fabric of his shirt, exploring the hard planes of muscle underneath.

“Much as I love this shirt, it’s coming off.”

Still, I went on stroking, tracing the contours of his chest through the material, then sneaking my hands underneath.

“I love it too.” He chuckled. “It was Peter’s.”

It was an offhand comment, not a heavy revelation, but my heart still ached.

“You think he would mind?” I asked, trying to keep the mood light.

Cooper shook his head. “I think he would approve.”

For all the sorrow the notion must have brought, a smile played over his lips. I cemented it into my mind. We all had tragedies and regrets. But we all had to carry on, and Cooper’s way of going about that sure beat moping or feeling sorry for himself.

A girl could learn from that.

I ran my hands over the cloth one more time, then worked it up toward his shoulders, along with the long-sleeved shirt underneath.

“Well, then. This all needs to come off,” I ordered, getting back on track.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I managed not to stare as he shucked those upper layers, but I did peek before we got back to our kiss. His shoulders were roped with muscles. His chest was a sun-warmed boulder to lean against, and I did. And farther down… Let’s just say those parts were equally warm and hard.

“Much as I like these jeans…” he murmured, running his hands over my ass.

I chuckled. “That’s my line.”

“Mine now,” he said, all low and growly, like he didn’t mean just the jeans.

It didn’t take long for more layers to follow, and soon, I found myself floating down to the bed in his arms.

“All good?” he whispered, easing down over me.

The man had definitely seen that video on Tea and Consent .

“Very good. Except this part.” I tugged on his boxers.

I helped him roll them away and jumped on the opportunity that presented itself.

“All good?” I echoed, wrapping my fingers around his shaft.

His head sank to the mattress, and he eased down beside me with a little croak. “Yes, please.”

The answer didn’t match the question, but I got the gist. I nuzzled his cheek while my hand worked its magic on him.

No, not that kind of magic. The kind any woman could wield with the man she loved.

My breath caught. Wait. Love?

“Don’t stop,” Cooper breathed, and I got back to “work.”

Still, my pulse jumped. I was no expert in love. Was that really what this was?

Cooper’s breath rattled, and his, er…um… Well, my grip filled.

“Oh. Condom?” I hated to break the mood, but I had to ask. I would never regret having Claire, but if I were ever to have another child, it would sure as hell be planned.

“Got one.” His voice shook a little as he opened a drawer in the bedside table.

“Just one?” I joked.

He grinned. “Well, maybe more than one.”

The package was new and unopened — an encouraging sign. It was also a ten-pack, which was even better. I pulled one out and left it on the table, then went back to stroking its destination.

Cooper made another low, rumbly sound. Then he turned to kiss my neck…my collarbone…my chest…

He slid a finger into the cup of my bra, and my body burned in response. Then he pushed the shoulder strap aside and kissed his way to my nipple, distracting me from my mission.

I arched, closing my eyes. Up to that point, we’d proceeded in a fairly civilized manner. But now—

I bucked and cried out as his lips encircled the tight bead and rolled. Hard.

“Oh…” I clamped my hands over his head, demanding more.

His huge hands bunched and kneaded the flesh of the other side.

A damn good thing my bra had already become unclasped. I might have ripped it off otherwise. In a preemptive maneuver, I wiggled out of my panties too, then flopped back the way Roscoe did when he wanted a belly rub. A belly rub was not what I was after, though.

“Here,” I whispered, guiding his hand down.

Call me demanding. I could live with that.

Happily, Cooper could too. He slid one hand down and made me very, very happy, very quickly. I closed my eyes, surrendering. Trusting, for once in my life.

Luckily, I had a man who was not only gentle, but also highly skilled. He knew just how to work me up to the edge and exactly when to ease back. Not teasing so much as bringing all systems to “go.”

“Promise…” I whispered, though I didn’t know what I was asking.

“Anything,” he rasped into my skin. “Anything.”

As vague as the request was, he satisfied my every need — and many I’d never known I had. I was heated metal on his forge, happy to bend, twist, and stretch under his touch.

“Oh!” I cried as he discovered yet another patch of virgin territory. Who would have guessed I had any of those left?

Briefly, I thought of Jay. The man was nowhere near the master lover he thought himself to be. Then I erased him and every other thought from my mind and simply enjoyed.

“I felt guilty,” I managed between happy gasps.

Cooper stopped long enough to rest his chin on my chest and look into my eyes.

“Guilty? Of what?”

“Being selfish.”

His laugh tickled my skin. “I could say the same thing.”

I threaded my fingers through his hair, wishing he were close enough to kiss. “Well, then don’t stop what you’re doing.”

His sunburst of a smile warmed my soul. “Happy to proceed.”

The man was as good as his word — and then some. I tossed my head from side to side as he went back to where he’d left off. Finally, he scooted higher, claimed my mouth in a bruising kiss, and whispered, “Like this.”

A light touch told me to roll, giving him my back. I started to rise to my hands and knees, because doggy style certainly worked for me. But Cooper pushed gently on my shoulders.

“Just there. Flat. Okay?”

I wiggled my ass in reply. “Definitely okay.”

His weight shifted as he reached for the condom, then fumbled with it. As he repositioned himself, I took a deep breath.

A damn good thing, because when he slid in—

I gasped, though the mattress muffled the sound.

He backed away immediately. “Too fast?”

I slapped a hand blindly over his hip, begging him to come back. “Just right.”

He kissed my shoulder, then pushed back in. And, oh. That angle was heavenly — a blacksmith’s version of heaven, powerful and pounding.

The sounds I unleashed must have made that clear, and Cooper soon settled into a rhythm. Slow, but powerful, like giant bass drums that boomed, then let the sound vibrate through space before booming again…and again.

My hands went from clutching the sheets to braced against the headboard. That was even better, giving me leverage to push back into his thrusts.

Cooper groaned, while I howled into the sheets. Again and again, until, overwhelmed by lust and pleasure, I came. Cooper tensed and shuddered, exploding a few heartbeats after me.

We froze, unmoving, a statue carved from stone — the kind museums didn’t always display.

How long we stayed there, I had no idea. But at some point, my muscles unwound, and Cooper melted over me. His short, hard breaths tickled my hair. He stretched his legs slowly, and I hooked my ankles over them, keeping him close.

The weight of his body pressed mine into the mattress in the best possible way. My heartbeat slowed, and I’d never felt so happy, warm, or fulfilled. So protected. So loved.

A good thing we weren’t face-to-face. I could keep my face firmly against the pillow and fight the flood of emotions, telling myself it was okay not to think straight at a time like this — or not to think at all.

Cooper nuzzled my shoulder, bringing our statue to life, then murmured apologetically. Slipping away, he disposed of the condom, then hurried back. I waited, not budging, until he returned to exactly the same place. Getting smushed into a mattress shouldn’t feel good, but it did.

I patted his hand, then the mattress. “This bed gets a ten out of ten.”

Cooper got an eleven out of ten, but I kept that to myself.

“I agree.” He wove his fingers through mine, telling me I was a ten — or eleven — too.

The fire crackled behind us, and I gradually worked up the nerve to turn and face him. I hated letting my guard down, yet there I was, totally at his mercy — emotionally and physically.

But when Cooper — sweet, silent Cooper — cupped my cheek, I couldn’t help smiling back, and my pounding heart settled down again.

Neither of us said anything for a long time, and my eyelids drooped. Cooper tugged at the sheets, then softly cursed the tangle.

I helped him straighten them, then tuck us in together. With a flickering fire, a comfortable bed, and a bear shifter to snuggle with, I’d never been cozier.

“Oh. Am I stealing your side?” I asked. “Do you even have a favorite side?”

He shook his head. “No. Just inside.” Then he broke out in a crimson blush. “I mean, inside my bed. With you.”

I grinned at the rare chance to watch a big, confident guy get all tongue-tied.

“Better watch out. I might be hard to get rid of, you know,” I warned.

I meant it as a joke, but maybe it wasn’t.

He slid a hand down to my waist. “Maybe I don’t want to get rid of you.”

I patted his hand, fervently wishing he never would. Because this feeling — of love, acceptance, and possibility — was pretty damn good.

So good, my mind filled with dangerously blissful dreams.

I laced my fingers through his and listened as his breathing slowed and stretched into sleep.