Page 77 of The Off-Limits Rule: Extended Edition

“Tell me now, woman—are you a compulsive shopper?”

“No, but I just couldn’t stand how empty it was in here—and I already know you make tons of money, so you’re not hurting from the extra expense. I hated the thought of you living in here all byyourself with no furniture or things to make it a home. Don’t be mad. Are you mad?”

He takes a step closer. And then another. His hands drop to his sides, and his head tilts as he takes yet another step forward. His hand flexes like the sexiest scene ever filmed (aka the Darcy hand flex fromPride and Prejudice…you know what I’m talking about) and the room heats to eighty million degrees. My skin is ready to melt off my bones from the intense look he’s givingme.

When he gets close enough to touch me, he stops. I can feel the heat rolling off his chiseled chest like waves, and I imagine if I were wearing thermal goggles he would look like a ball of fire. I want to place my hand in the center of his abs and burn.

He leans down, and I tilt my head back, exposing my neck, ready for my favorite trail of kisses. Instead, his lips brush, soft as a paintbrush, all the way up my neck, barely touching, so he can whisper against my ear, “Until all of this is put together, no kisses for you, Miss Shopaholic.”

My mouth falls open as I watch Cooper’s retreating back. “Ugh! You’re kidding, right?”

He smirks at me over his shoulder. “Afraid not. You order, you assemble. Get to work, Bob the Builder.”

“But where are you going?”

“To put together my new dining room table andeightmatching chairs for my imaginary giant family.”

“WHICH YOU LOVE, RIGHT?!” I yell because Cooper has already left the room.

Frankly, I think he’s being ungrateful of my very thorough design services. Then again, as I look around the room and sigh, this does look like a lot.

An hour later Cooper comes to find me. I’m lying on the floor,holding my phone above my head, watching TikTok dance videos, and when I spot him I chuck it across the room and pretend to be tinkering with something under the bed. “Ah—there we go. Much better.”

He stands above me. “Whatcha doing?”

I slap my hand against the bottom of the bed. “Oh, you know, just tending to a few other things while I’m here. I noticed your bed screws were loose, so I thought I’d give them a little tightening.”

“With your bare hands?”

“Don’t be jealous of my strength.”

He glances around the room. “Lucy, it’s been an hour.”

“And?”

“You put together the lamp.”

“It was difficult to screw the shade on.”

He bends down to wrap his hands around my ankles and slide me out from under the bed, a knowing smirk on his mouth. “You’re not going to put anything together, are you?”

“No, I am! I really am. I just got distracted.” I crack my knuckles. “I’m ready to get down to business so I can get those kisses. Here, hand me a Jerry.”

Cooper’s eyebrows rise quizzically. “A what?”

“A Jerry. You know, one of those little doohickeys they include with the furniture so you can tighten the bolts up.” I’m miming the gesture of screwing something in, and Cooper is looking at me, dumbfounded. How is he not getting this? “You know, it’s a right angle. It looks like a flat star on each end?”

Cooper rubs the back of his neck, and I have made apoorchoice not getting this stuff built because, honestly, he looks so good it hurts. Dang those distracting TikTok videos. “Do you…do you mean an Allen key?”

“What’s an Allen key?”

He bends down (hello, fantastic backside) and picks up the exact tool I was talking about. “Allen key.”

“Ohhh, is that what it is? Yeah, I call it a Jerry.”

He frowns, looking torn between amusement and horror. “Why?”

I shrug. “Because I can never remember Allen.”

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