“How about your mom, Coop?”

“She’s…okay,” he said and pulled back onto the highway. He could tell she wanted to ask more, and while he planned to tell her—to share everything with her—he wanted to do it later.

He drove toward town, and she squeezed his hand. “I liked seeing your childhood home.”

“Good, because I have more to show you.”

“Oh?” she said, her eyes moving over his body. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

He laughed at her playful side. “Hey, get your mind out of the gutter.”

She chuckled along with him, and they fell into easy conversation as he drove the rest of the way. A short while later he pulled into a parking spot along the town’s main street.

He shaded his eyes and glanced up and down the long street. “Nothing much has changed in twenty years. Except maybe the new beaver tail and ice cream store.”

She turned, taking it all in. “It’s so quaint. I love it.”

His heart warmed. It meant something to him that she liked where he’d grown up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I can see why you’d want to move back here.”

He captured her hand and pulled her to him as he led her down the sidewalk and into the store. They both ordered a pastry, and he guided her to the playground he hung out at when he was young. Kids bustled about around them, their parents talking on park benches as they played.

“Swing?” he asked.

“Sure.”

They grabbed the empty swings beside each other and dived into their pastries.

“This is where you hung out?” she asked.

He wiped cinnamon from her face, and when she gave him a sheepish look, his heart turned over. She was so sweet, and he was so fucking lucky to have her in his life. Now, just to keep her there. “This swing exactly,” he said.

“Cool.” The smile she gave him warmed his soul. He bit into his pastry, catching a big hunk of banana, and moaned with pleasure.

“It’s so good, isn’t it?” She took another big bite, chewed, and said, “I can’t remember the last time I had one.”

“You should have one every day,” he said.

“Yeah.” She scoffed. “Wouldn’t my hips love that?”

A hyper little girl in pigtails squealed and started to run by, then slowed when she saw their food. Her eyes went wide. “Mom,” she shrieked. “I want a beaver tail.”

Julia crinkled her nose. “Uh-oh. Look what we started.”

More kids started yelling, and he cringed. “I think the last thing any of them need is sugar.”

“You don’t like kids,” she said, a statement, not a question.

“Yes, I do.”

Her head came up with a start, surprise in her eyes. “Really?”

He dragged his feet though the dirt as he moved on the swing. “Yeah. Someday I’d like to have a couple.”

“Oh.”

“Oh what?”

“Nothing…I just…nothing.”

He kicked his leg out, to pick up momentum as he swung beside her. “I’ll teach them how to play soccer, hockey…ride a horse.”

She smiled at him. “I bet you’d be a great dad.”

“What about you? You want kids?”

“I haven’t given it too much thought. The last few years have been spent focusing on my career.”

“But you do want them?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good.”

She gave him a strange look as they finished their last bites. Coop jumped off the swing, grabbed her hand, and hauled her to him.

“I thought we’d go for a spin.” He pointed to the merry-go-round. “I swear I could get that thing going a hundred miles an hour. I’ll teach my kids that, too.”

“I think I’m going to pass.”

“Seriously?”

She put her hand on her stomach. “Unless you want a second viewing of my dessert.”

He laughed, and she looked so adorable as she grinned up at him that he couldn’t help himself. He leaned in and put his lips on hers, tasting the sweet cinnamon on her tongue.

“You taste good,” he murmured. “I think they should only ever make peanut butter, banana, and cinnamon-flavored beaver tails.”

“Maybe I can get a law passed,” she teased. She broke the kiss and grabbed his hand, a new excitement in her eyes. “Show me where else you hung out.”

“Sure.” He loved her enthusiasm and how interested she was in knowing more about him.

He led her along the streets, taking her to the park where he and his friends skateboarded, past the school where he went to elementary, along a side street where some of his childhood friends had grown up, then stopped at the old movie house.

When he saw that it was some chick flick playing, he said, “You’re not going to make me, are you?”

She sagged against him and gave him a playful grin. “You bet I am.”

“Fine, then, but we’re sitting in the back so we can make out.”

“Oh, is that what you used to do when you were a kid?”

“No, but only because I was too young.”

She gave him a playful whack, and he reached for his wallet. He bought their tickets and found seats at the back of the near-empty theater. The movie came on, and true to his word, he spent the better part of the time kissing her. From the way she kissed him back, she didn’t seem to mind missing the flick. By the time the credits rolled, it was well past dinnertime, and they walked back to his truck.

“Dinner at the saloon?” he asked.

Her cheeks were flushed from their heavy make-out session. “I’m thinking more along the lines of dinner in bed.”

He hurried his steps and dragged her along with him. “You don’t have to ask me twice.”

He opened her door for her, stepped back, and waited for her to get in. Instead, she stopped, turned to him, and put her hand on his chest. His throat tightened. Had she changed her mind? Was she pushing him away? His stomach dropped, but then she reached up and laid her hand on his cheek. A surge of warmth flooded his veins at the softness of her palm on his jaw, the rasp of his stubble against the pad of her thumb as it slid gently over his face. Such a small thing, this show of affection, so genuine that for a moment he held his breath, fearful that even pulling air into his lungs would break the incredible connection between them. She looked up at him, and the tenderness in her eyes became his undoing. His knees buckled, and he forced them straight as he leaned into her hand, overwhelmed with the things she made him feel.

“I really liked seeing where you grew up,” she said softly, and then she smiled. The faintest lift of the corner of her mouth. “Thanks for sharing it with me.” Her hand slipped from his cheek, and the loss of her touch left an emptiness in his chest. He stood there trying to remember how to breathe as she slid into the truck.

She was quiet on the way home, her glance straying to his numerous times as he drove. Whenever he returned it, she gave him a warm smile. They reached the ranch, and he circled the truck to open her door. She jumped out, and he was about to guide her inside when she went up on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. He slid his hand around her waist and drew her in close, needing the connection. As he held her, his body reacted with need.

“It seems like you might have a little something else to show me,” she teased as his erection pressed against her stomach.

“It does seem that way,” he said, and brushed his thumb over her cheek, wanting her so much he felt dizzy. “And there’s nothing little about it.”

She laughed and swatted him again, making him feel like the teenage boy who was so crazy about her.

In seconds flat he had her naked and on the bed. He kissed her mouth, her neck, her breasts, basking in her sweetness. Unable to wait another second, he sheathed himself and pushed into her. Her hand touched his back, and he sucked in a breath as heat zinged through him. Christ, he was lost. So fucking lost in her.

His mouth moved back to hers, and she slid her tongue over his bottom lip. He drew it into his mouth, so aware of how well their bodies fit together. Blood pounded through his veins, and her nipples pressed against his chest as they rocked into each other, need propelling them on. Her muscles clenched around him, her whole body trembling beneath his.