Page 4 of Say I'm Yours
“I’m sure Cooper doesn’t want to dance, Mrs. Townsend. He’s—”
“Actually,” he corrects, standing from his seat without taking his eyes off me. “I’d be honored.” He holds out his arm, palm open, waiting. I stare at him, trying to figure out what to say as my stomach clenches. It’s not as if I hadn’t toyed with whatever I’ve been feeling toward Cooper for a while now, but if we dance here, now, it’ll be making a statement. One I’m not sure I’m ready to make. My heart races as I look at his extended hand “Grace?” Cooper’s green eyes lock on mine.
It’s just a dance. Trent isn’t my boyfriend. Actually, now that I think about it, we never once—since the day I met him—put an official label on our relationship. I also just stated my ending of whatever it was, and per Angie, Presley won’t be mad, so there’s no reason not to, right?
Right.
I plaster on a smile and place my hand in his, saying, “I’d love to dance.”
His warm hand engulfs mine as he guides me to the dance floor. We stop at a spot near the edge of the crowd, and he turns toward me. “Relax, Grace.” Cooper encourages as his thick arms wrap around me. “It’s only a dance, and it’s me. We’ve danced together since we were kids.”
I shake my head and grin, even though this is not the same at all. Back then, I wasn’t dancing with Cooper as a single woman. He was a friend, almost a brother, and now there isn’t anything sibling like about this. “I know.”
“Then stop shakin’ like a leaf.”
“It’s just that you’re you . . .”
And insanely hot.
“And you’re . . .”
I shrug. “Me. I’ve been around you since I was seven. I mean, you’re Cooper! The boy who pulled my pigtails and put dirt in my sandwich.”
He laughs. “That was once, and I was convinced that you were the one who wrote, ‘Cooper Townsend loves to eat boogers’ on the bathroom wall.”
I was, but he doesn’t know that. I’d convinced myself that I was in love with him, and he told all the boys that I smelled like cheese. I did the only rational thing a twelve-year-old girl would do: write it on the bathroom wall. Being in a tiny town, it didn’t take long for the news of the artwork to spread. I denied it like crazy and watched Cooper set out on a mission to figure out who’d written it.
“Truth?” I grin.
Cooper’s lips lift as he figures it out. “I knew it! I knew it was you.” His eyes sparkle.
“Well, you were mean to me! And I had a crush on you at that time.”
“You did?” he asks.
“Umm.” I giggle. “Yeah. You knew that!”
He shakes his head. “I had no idea.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. It only lasted about two whole days. Then you did some gross boy thing, and I was over it, but for those two days . . . it was intense. Plus, if my mom ever thought there was a chance of a you and me—I wouldn’t have been able to sleep over. You weren’t worth missing girl time with Presley.”
I didn’treallylike Cooper. Sure, he’s always been good-looking and funny, but he was always looking at me as if I were the annoying little girl. Which in all fairness, I was. However, Trent and Cooper were always together when we were younger. And by then, I developed feelings for the oldest Hennington.
Now, though, I’m done with Trent, and it’s Cooper who is in front of me.
His arms are around me as he holds me close. It’s striking how different he and Trent are from each other. Cooper has dark brown hair, green eyes, and his five o’clock shadow doesn’t make it easy for any girl to look away. Plus, he’s freaking huge. He’s tall, and his body is beyond words. The farm has done his body good.
“So?” Cooper calls my attention back to him. “Have you thought any more about my offer?”
I was hoping this wouldn’t come up again. My heart has been torn apart. Agreeing to a date with Cooper would change so many things. Trent and I have only been separated for a week, and I’m not even sure I’m ready to date again. I’m definitely not ready to make a decision. I just had another spat with Trent—one that ended with his lips on mine. I needed time.
“I thought about it, but I don’t have an answer.”
“I can wait.”
I sigh, and he spins me around again, completely undeterred by my evasion. “You might be waitin’ a long time.”
“I’ve been waitin’ a long time already.” He moves our intertwined hands between our chests. “I can be patient when it’s something worth being patient for.”
