“Yes, but men carry things for ladies.”
She snorted. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
He laughed at her teasing, throwing his hands up. “Fair enough. At least I tried.”
The box was deposited on the kitchen counter, and Gretchen put a pot of coffee on. When it was brewing and Cooper had taken a seat at one of the stools at the kitchen island, she opened the top of the box, peeking in. There were two smaller boxes in
side, one with the Cooper’s Cuppa logo. She reached for the other, glancing at Cooper. “This is from Audrey?”
He nodded, though he couldn’t stop staring at their surroundings. “I can’t believe you’re staying here for an entire month. It’s like a castle.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, setting the box down and pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Complete with creepy butler and everything.”
“I swear this could be something out of a movie,” he said with a grin. “Don’t tell me. The owner’s some Phantom of the Opera–style guy intent on sucking the blood of virgins.”
Gretchen spit out her coffee, coughing.
Cooper immediately got up, slapping her on the back. “You okay?”
“Just . . . breathed . . . wrong,” she said, coughing between words. It was kind of weird how close—and yet far away—Cooper had been with his guess.
After all, she was the one intent on the virgins around here.
With a weak smile, she opened the box Audrey had sent. Pink lace and black satin caught her eye and she immediately flipped it shut. Feigning ease, she pushed the box aside. “What did Audrey say she was sending me again?”
“Stress relievers, I think she said. Something to help things along.” He shrugged and sipped his coffee again. “She said you’d know what to do with it.”
It was clear he hadn’t looked in the box. “I have a pretty good idea, yeah.” At his inquisitive look, she lied, “Bath salts.”
“Ah. Girl stuff.”
“Definitely girl stuff.” And before she could giggle and ruin things, she pulled the other box out and pretended to sniff it. “I think I smell cookies.”
He grinned.
She flipped open the lid and sighed with pleasure. “Two dozen? You shouldn’t have.”
“And some toffee dream bars underneath, just in case you want a little variety.”
She pulled out the bags of cookies and smelled the bag of coffee beans that had been included. “You’re awesome, Cooper. I’m sure these cookies aren’t as good as mine, though.”
“They should be. It’s your recipe.” He was watching her with a soft, adoring look on his face. “I’ve missed seeing you, Gretchen. The Cuppa isn’t the same without your smiling face.”
And he reached across the counter to place his hand over hers.
Damn. It seemed they couldn’t even go a half hour anymore without things getting awkward. “Cooper . . .”
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Gretchen.”
“Cooper—”
“No, please, let me say this.” His eyes were pleading. “It’s time I said this.”
The door to the kitchen opened. Hunter stalked in, a dashing figure in his neatly pressed, too-formal-for-around-the-house-but-he-wore-it-anyhow dark suit. He glowered at Cooper and his hand on Gretchen’s, then moved to Gretchen’s side and kissed her cheek, his arm sliding around her waist.
A very possessive, obvious gesture.
White-hot shock drained the blood from Cooper’s face. He turned white, then went blood red with embarrassment, staring at Hunter. “I—”