Eden

I push the grocery cart down the pasta aisle, considering making lasagna for dinner tonight. I smile as I see the choices for sauces. There are three total. In LA, there’d be fifty to choose from including organic, gluten free, sugar free, and fuck…probably tomato free made from flavored tofu or something.

Shaking my head, I decide to abandon the idea for Italian and head for the meat department. I think we’ll grill steaks and asparagus tonight. It’s simple, and the weather will be gorgeous on the back veranda of Goodnight House.

Coop and I have slipped into a comfortable routine the last few days. We get up early and I cook him breakfast before kissing him out the door to go to work. I then do whatever the hell I want, because I am officially on vacation. One day I spent upstairs in the library, reading and napping. Another day I went to Missy’s and helped her make cupcakes. And on another day, I went into Savannah and did some shopping, which included some new lingerie I modeled for Coop that night.

In the evenings, I have dinner ready for him. He’s usually home by six and he heads straight for the shower. We then eat, drink a little wine, and talk.

We joke. We laugh. We reminisce.

Then we fuck. Sometimes once a night; other times multiple times. Coop may have superhuman abilities, because he can recharge over and over again with very little provocation. I secretly searched his bathroom one day to see if he was on Viagra or something, but found nothing other than regular daily vitamins.

I told Coop today as he walked out the door that I’d be grocery shopping and asked if he needed anything.

“We’re almost out of condoms,” he told me with a wink.

“Hopefully our test results will be back today,” I reminded him. Both of us took the time three days ago after he deliciously screwed me over the kitchen sink to get into the doctor and we were eagerly awaiting the news.

My shopping cart is filled with a variety of items by the time I make it to the cashier. This market is so small there’s only one lane and one employee to ring up my purchases. I also happen to be the only one in the line so far, so that works out nicely.

The man working the register is young, perhaps even still a teenager, and this is perhaps a summer job for him. He smiles and says hello to me, but there’s no recognition of who I am. This is not surprising, because I’m not known to everyone. I may be a big-time star now, but not everyone watches movies. Not everyone watches the news. Not everyone listens to town gossip. I once read somewhere that 64 percent of Americans could not name all three branches of the federal government. This seems astounding, but goes to show you that there are many people out there who don’t care what’s outside their little circle.

Thus I take the moment to enjoy the anonymity and peruse the magazine rack. My eyes immediately lock on to an entertainment daily rag with the bold headline EDEN STRIKES BACK, FINDS NEW MAN. It’s one of the cheap ones done like a newspaper without the glossy images and is cranked out every day with other articles like AN ALIEN STOLE MY COW or CULTS ARE THE NEW IN-THING AMONG MILLENNIALS. I cringe as I grab the magazine noting the cover is a grainy photo of Coop and me standing outside of Tilley’s as he’s leaning in to whisper to me.

Christ these people work fast.

I throw the magazine onto the checkout counter and the clerk rings it through without even noticing I’m on the cover.

When I get out to my rental car and get the groceries loaded, I take a moment to flip to the article. It’s short, because there’s not much information that’s been gathered yet, but I immediately see who tipped off the press.

My eyes focus in on the offending paragraph.

Newberry resident Ashley Barton claims that it was a shock to see Eden Goodnight come back to town, as she is not well liked here.

“She refused to help the town rebuild the middle school after a fire,” Miss Barton said in a candid interview. “I’m not surprised. She was always selfish like that. And now she’s got poor Coop Mayfield trapped again.”

Apparently, Cooper Mayfield and Eden Goodnight dated in high school and college, but broke up when Eden abandoned him to pursue her modeling career. Sources say it’s been fourteen years since they’ve seen each other, but they are currently residing in the same house.

I skim over the rest of the article, my blood pressure rising. I can’t believe she stooped that low, but wait…it’s Ashley…yes, I can. Still, this isn’t anything I haven’t faced before. It’s a requirement in Hollywood that you have a thick skin, and I can weather this. I just don’t want Coop brought into it. I don’t want this town brought into it.

Sadly, there’s little I can do to prevent it unless I were to leave, and well…selfishly, I’m not ready to do that.

I am nowhere near ready to leave Coop. I have no commitments, I need a vacation, and this is good for my soul.

Or the more truthful statement would be: Who the fuck am I kidding? I can feel myself falling hard for my first love again.

I don’t want this to happen, but it is happening all the same. It took absolutely no time at all for me to remember all the varied reasons I fell in love with him in the first place. Coop was the ultimate package back when we were eighteen, and he only aged better. He’s kind, funny, and keenly intelligent. He’s got a good moral compass and sticks up for the underdogs. His life is balanced and he’s a tremendously hard worker. He’s loyal, faithful, and caring. I won’t even get into how stupendous he is in bed, but that is equally important to me.

Coop is a man who is easy to fall in love with if he were able to love me back.

My understanding is he doesn’t do that anymore. It’s not something he’s interested in.

This is why I need to hold myself back and keep a clear head about him. We’ve got boundaries, and someone’s going to get hurt if they get breached.

Tossing the tabloid onto the passenger seat, I decide to put it out of my mind for now. I’m going to swing by Missy’s and grab some cupcakes for dessert tonight, then I’m going to head back to Goodnight House for an afternoon nap, something that is an absolute sinful luxury for me. Of course, I need them more now, because Coop doesn’t let me get much sleep and I have no idea how he’s functioning half the time.

Before I can even turn my car on, my phone rings and I see it’s Coop. I’d taken a picture of him one morning as he was lying in bed on his back, his hair all mussed up and looking sexy. I never mind seeing that pop up on my phone.

“What’s up, stud?”

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky. I know he’s outdoors, as I can hear a lawnmower in the background. He’s working with a yard crew today.

“Grocery shopping.”

“No, you’re supposed to tell me how you’re in bed thinking about me and masturbating,” he admonishes.

“You’re a freak,” I say with a laugh. “But that doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea before I take my nap this afternoon.”

Coop laughs, and then murmurs, “That’s my girl. And if you wanted to take a picture and send it to me, I wouldn’t be averse.”

“I might just do that,” I say silkily.

“So, I called because I got my test results back,” Coop says. “And I’m squeaky clean. Have you gotten anything yet?”

“I don’t know,” I tell him. “Dr. Seegal has an online portal they’ll send me results through, but I’ll have to log onto my laptop when I get home to check.”

“Well, check and let me know ASAP,” he says. “And if they come back clear, be prepared for me to take you down right in the foyer as soon as I get home.”

“It’s a plan,” I murmur, feeling very warm and flush.

“Gotta go,” Coop says abruptly. “See you tonight.”

“Bye.” The smile on my face is dreamily happy as I disconnect.

My stop into Missy’s is quick, running in and dashing out to get the groceries home. I grabbed four cupcakes, all chocolate with vanilla icing, and thought they’d be nice to eat in bed tonight.

When I get to Goodnight House, I hurry to put the groceries away, and then immediately log onto my laptop. I access the secured portal for Dr. Seegal’s office and see a message waiting for me. I scan it furiously, right down to the conclusion that there’s no evidence of STDs. I take a moment to give a silent thank-you to Brad for keeping his dick wrapped during his escapades. In fact, I feel like I could just kiss him right now with gratitude.

I run up the stairs to Coop’s bedroom, snag the remaining few condoms from the box, and take them over to the trash can. I pull up the camera app on my phone, and after throwing the box into the trash, I take a picture of them in there.

Then I text it to him with nothing more.

His response is almost instantaneous and I go warm from head to toe. You are in so much trouble tonight. I almost feel sorry for you.

God, how can his threats turn me on?

Coop sure knows how to pull something out of me that I didn’t even know was available inside.

Feeling happy, victorious, relieved, and downright grateful for my life right now, I head to the bed to take a luxurious nap. I have a feeling I’m going to need my energy tonight.

I set my alarm to get up at four P.M. so I can take a bath and shave my legs, because more than likely Coop’s face will be between them tonight—the man loves to eat me out—and then I can get a head start on dinner.

I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.

I’m in Coop’s bed and that’s where I intend to stay.

The banging on the door downstairs penetrates my sleep and I sit up in bed instantly. I glance at the clock and I’ve been down only about half an hour.

Rolling out of bed, I hurry down the staircase as the banging continues, thinking perhaps Coop forgot his key or something. But when I open the door, I see Brad standing on my front porch looking furious.

I immediately step out of the house and close the door behind me, a clear indication he’s not invited inside. Despite having just been roused from a deep sleep, I’m surprisingly clearheaded and I’ll thank the jolt of adrenaline that rushed through my body at seeing Brad here for helping me shake off the fogginess.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him with my hand still perched on the doorknob.

He’s immediately aggressive, which is classic Brad when he feels affronted. “What did you think I’d do, Eden? You won’t talk to me and you backed out of our film. Did you think I was just going to roll over and go away?”

“Yes,” I say in a shrill voice of frustration. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d do. You cheated on me. I told you we’re over. Why in the world you’d think I’d want to talk to you, or even film a movie with you, is beyond me.”

“I have the right to explain what happened,” he yells at me. He’s posturing, drawing himself up to his full height and leaning toward me. I’ve never been afraid of Brad; he’s generally not a violent person, but I don’t like being here alone with him when he’s clearly very pissed off, and I’ve never seen him this way. “I have the right to try to make this better.”

I take a quick breath, let it out, and say, “Brad…you don’t have any right to anything with me. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. There’s nothing that you could say that will make it better. So please…just go on with your life and forget about me. Because that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Brad’s lip curls up in a sneer. “Yeah…saw the photos of you and your new boyfriend. Didn’t take you long to hop in someone else’s bed, did it?”

“At least I wasn’t unfaithful,” I snarl at him. “You and I were over when I started seeing Coop. You were fucking around behind my back after we got engaged, you piece-of-shit, little-dick, two-bit actor, and I had the right to go fuck the entire population of LA if I wanted to.”

Brad growls and steps toward me, pointing his finger. “You see…if you’d been better in bed, I wouldn’t have had to fuck around on you. You’re pathetic, actually.”

I know that shouldn’t hurt me, but it does. No woman likes to be told that, and it causes self-doubt for sure. Still, I don’t let him know his arrow struck. I try to maintain calm and order. “Brad…you need to leave. This is unproductive and nothing’s going to change. You wasted your time in coming out here and I’m sorry for that. But you should have heeded my text to you that it was over.”

The crunch of tires on gravel and the rumble of an engine catches my attention and I tilt to the right to look around Brad. Coop’s truck is coming up the driveway and I’m both grateful and fearful he’s here. At a frat party once while we were in college, some drunk guy grabbed my ass and Coop beat the shit out of him. He’s insanely possessive and easily offended if you touch what he treasures.

Brad turns and his eyes narrow on the truck.

“I suggest you leave, Brad,” I say quietly.

“Why?” he sneers without looking at me, keeping his eyes locked on the truck when Coop brings it to a stop right at the base of the steps. “That your boyfriend?”

I don’t respond, because there’s no need to. Coop gets out, stalks around the front of the truck, and heads straight up the stairs with no hesitation. His eyes come to me briefly to ensure I’m okay, and then back to Brad.

When Coop hits the top step, Brad takes a step back, as Coop has him by several inches and a few more pounds of hard-packed muscle.

Without taking his eyes off Brad, he asks me, “Did you invite him here?”

“No, he just showed up,” I tell him.

Coop points down to the car that Brad clearly drove here from the airport. “Get off our property. You’re trespassing.”

“I’m not leaving until Eden talks—”

That’s as far as Brad gets, because Coop has his arm twisted and locked between his own in a spinning move that looks straight out of a martial arts movie. I wonder if he practices MMA like me. Brad grunts in pain and drops to one knee.

As Coop looms over him, his words are menacing and to the point. “Let’s try this again…get off our property. If I have to tell you again, it’s going to hurt worse.”

Coop immediately releases his hold on Brad and takes a step back. Brad’s no fighter, more blustery talk than anything, but I’m completely surprised when he turns and charges at Coop. His face is red and his eyes are burning with rage.

“Brad,” I shout in surprise as he lowers his shoulder and attempts to drive it into Coop’s sternum.

Coop merely turns to the side at the last minute and Brad goes sailing by him. Adding insult to injury, Coop raises his foot, encased in steel-toe work boots, and kicks Brad in the ass, which propels him forward even faster. He can’t stop the momentum and goes crashing into a wrought-iron plant stand that holds a fern, then he flips over a white rocking chair.

For a heart-stopping moment, Brad lies still and I think Coop killed him, but then he groans and rolls over. His face is covered in blood that’s gushing from his nose. He sits up, brings his hand there, and says, “Jesus Christ, you lunatic. You broke my fucking nose.”

Coop’s not moved, although I’m feeling a little sorry for him.

“Get off our property and don’t come back,” Coop repeats to him for the third time.

Brad pushes up off the porch with a groan of pain and wipes his nose on the back of his sleeve. More blood runs out.

“Fuck,” Brad complains. “Can I get a towel or something?”

Still not taking his eyes off Brad, Coop says, “Eden…grab a towel from the kitchen. And the shotgun from the cabinet in the hall.”

I roll my eyes because now he’s just putting on a show. I run into the house, grab a kitchen towel from one of the drawers, and run back out again. I toss it to Brad, who immediately puts it up to his face and pinches his nose.

Coop looks at me. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Stop it,” I hiss at him, and his lips quirk upward.

Brad turns and starts down the steps. When he reaches the driver’s door of his car, he looks back up at us. “Eden…if you change your mind—”

“She won’t,” Coop cuts him off gruffly. “She’s got all she needs right here.”

Yup. Possessive.

I remain silent and eventually Brad gets into his car. We don’t move or say anything until his car is out of sight.

Coop turns to me and asks, “You all right?”

“Yeah,” I tell him with a sly smile. “Totally fine. But why are you here? Some supersense that I needed to be rescued?”

“I couldn’t stop looking at the damn photo you sent of the condoms in the garbage can,” he mutters as he curls a hand behind my neck. He jerks me to him, gives me a swift, hard kiss. “Went ahead and took off work a little early. Got more important things to do.”

Tingles down my spine, tingles between my legs, tingles deep in my nipples. “Yes, we definitely have more important things to do.”