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He nods and then places an order. “It will be here in an hour. How about some wine while we wait?”
I nod, not really liking wine, but why the fuck not? I bet it’s the good stuff.
“What did you end up ordering us?”
“Some plates from a local Greek place that will melt your panties right off,” he explains as he uncorks a bottle of wine and pours the red liquid into long-stemmed crystal glasses. He hands one to me, swishing his around in the cup and inhaling it. Looks fancy doing it. Probably learned how to taste wine in kindergarten. I bet his parents put him in sommelier classes.
“Try it. I bought this at a vineyard in Italy last year.”
“I don’t even want to know how much this bottle was,” I murmur as I take a sip.
Dry and smooth woody notes hit my tongue. I have to admit it’s much better than the boxed wines I’ve had before.
“Not bad, huh?” Coop says as he grabs my hand and pulls me outside onto the balcony. It’s cool out, the salty air drifting in from the sea, so he switches on an outdoor heater and gestures for me to take a seat in a lounge chair.
“I know you won’t admit it, but I can see that you’re admiring my choice in wine.”
I roll my eyes to the sky as I sink into the cushions, the wine cradled in my hand.
It is good, but like he said, I refuse to admit it. Coop has nice everything. I will not make his head any bigger than it already is. He may actually float off into the stratosphere.
“It’s alright. Could be better.”
He scoffs, tugging a lounger right up next to mine and pulling a blanket over his lap. He sips daintily on his glass of wine, his eyes swiveling from me to the horizon.
“I can see right through your lies, Matthew. You can’t fool me.”
I snort and take another sip, leaning back and letting my head fall against the cushion. Inhaling deeply, I just watch as the sky moves from pink to orange, my entire body warm from the heater and relaxed from the sound of the ocean. In no time, I’ve finished my wine and turn my gaze to Coop, who is peering over at me, his cheeks slightly flushed.
“What are you looking at?” I ask softly, and his lips twitch.
“Watching you relax. It’s a heady thing.”
“I don’t get to do it often.”
“Things are going to change for you here, I promise you that.”
I can’t do anything but nod before turning my gaze out to the ocean once more. It’s a silver sky now, the moon making an appearance through the clouds.
So much has already changed.
And I have too.
Despite how comfortable Coop’s mattress is in the guest room and despite jacking off twice to try and get myself to sleep, I still spend half the night awake. Probably because I know what I’m missing out on. Coop is probably snoozing happily in his own room, which could have been our room if I’d been a little less stubborn.
Perhaps I’m more like Mitch than I care to admit.
“Morning, sunshine,” Coop says, standing in the kitchen in some silk sleep pants, a white t-shirt that looks suspiciously like mine, and an apron. He’s cooking something in a pan and has bacon on the griddle.
I slump down onto a bar stool, my elbows resting on the white granite countertop and rub at my eyes. I feel like shit.
“Coffee for my delicate, sleep-deprived husband,” Coop says, setting a mug in front of me. I peer down at the concoction and arch an eyebrow. “It’s a Nutella latte. Your background check didn’t say you were allergic to anything, so I took some liberties. And if you don’t like Nutella, you’re a monster. I said what I said.”
I chuckle and take a sip, my tastebuds exploding with the hints of chocolate and hazelnut. And fuck, when was the last time I had frothed milk? Vegas, I think. But it wasn’t nearly as creamy as this. I bet he has the top-of-the-line machine from Italy. Probably had it imported and everything.
“It’s good,” I grunt, and Coop grins, moving back to the stove. I notice a small rip at the end of the hem of the shirt he’s wearing and my eyebrows rise. There’s no denying it now. That fucker. “Is that my shirt?”
“Yes,” he says, not even sorry for it.
