A distant thumping, scraping sound, almost in my ear, woke me up. I peeled my eyes open, a mass of chocolate brown hair spread out over my chin and chest. Rebecca’s warm body was pressed so close to me I was almost able to ignore the continued, obnoxious sound.

It silenced, and I closed my eyes.

I didn’t fall asleep until long after Rebecca did. Would she regret what we’d done? I’d pushed her faster than I thought, only pulling back from the ultimate connection between us when I realized I didn’t have a condom on me, and I guessed she wasn’t prepared for that either. I still laid awake, fear curling in my gut she’d wake and push against me. Instead, at some point during the night, she curled into me. Her arm had wrapped around my stomach, her thighs tangled with mine. I had kissed her temple, brushing a mess of hair off her face and her eyes had fluttered open.

“You’re awake,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Go to sleep, Cooper.”

Once she said my name, lips curling into a small smile before she drifted off to sleep again, I followed her.

Now, I forced my eyes to peel open, an obnoxious, buzz then scrape sound almost in my ear again.

“Ugh.” I slapped at my phone I’d put on the nightstand last night when I brought up our wine, grabbed it, and barely processed seeing Max’s name before I connected the call. “What is it, Max? It’s freaking early out there.”

Window blinds across the bed were closed, but light was barely visible. It was still early here.

“Need you to get to Lawrence, Cooper.”

“What?” I slid Rebecca’s arm off my stomach and pushed myself to sitting.

She mumbled something and curled closer, her cheek resting on my lower abdomen as I readjusted myself. Without thought, my hand went to her hair, slid through her silky mane as Max explained.

“Camilla’s refusing to sign the papers until she sees you.”

“Fuck her.” Anger suffused my veins and my jaw ached from trying to stay quiet.

I was spending the day exactly where I was, pressed against Rebecca in her large and incredibly warm and comfortable bed.

“She said you come to her or she’s coming to you.”

That witch. I huffed a laugh. “Bullshit. She can’t find me.”

“That’s not exactly true anymore.”

All my heated veins chilled. “What do you mean?”

“Picture of you flooded through gossip sites late last night.”

Max had held my hand through my entire career. I’d sat in meetings while he bulldozed publicists and directors and producers. I’d listened as he sweet talked vindictive ex-spouses and their team of money hungry lawyers. Never had I heard him sound this pissed.

All that ice in my veins turned arctic. “Max. You’re fucking with me.” I swung my legs off the bed, my feet smacking on the carpet. Shit. The last thing I needed was to wake up Rebecca. Gently, I re-covered her with the comforter and hurried as quietly as I could to my clothes piled in the bathroom where I’d ditched them last night. “Tell me what happened.” I grabbed my jeans and tugged them on.

“Yeah, you were shoveling food into your mouth at what looked like Down Home, and I’m not guessing, I would never forget those red Formica tabletops and it’s Rebecca’s favorite. Good shit, isn’t it?”

I was on gossip sites and the man was talking about food. I tugged on my hair so hard my roots ached. People glanced at me, that look they gave when they thought I looked familiar but weren’t certain, but no one had approached.

Apparently someone was curious enough to snap a photo. I shouldn’t have been surprised. It came with my job. It was the risk I took in not wearing a wig, but the idea of seeing Rebecca splashed all over gossip sites rattled me.

Shit. No way in hell would I let Camilla come here, but hell if I wanted to take off. Not today of all days. “When do I need to be there?”

My gaze caught on Rebecca and all her black hair spread now all over the side of the bed I’d slept on. Her back was to me but she’d moved because the comforter I draped over her was gone. She had a light colored mole halfway down her back, right at the center of her spine. The curve of her body. Damn it.

I wanted more of her and not just her body, as sweet and sexy as it was.

“I’ve already got my private jet in the air. It’ll be in Lawrence in a couple hours.”

It would take me at least a half hour to get there. “Can you hold her off a day or two? I’ll get there, I swear, I’ll meet her on her terms, but today is a shitty day.”

“Why? Something wrong?”

I was not telling Max his niece had my cock in her mouth last night.

“Rebecca and I had plans today, ranch stuff, you know?” I finished before he could get the wrong—or very correct—idea.

“Actually, no.” He laughed that fatherly laugh I was most used to. “Diane used to go on and on about it, but to tell you the truth, I never paid a lick of attention to her.”

“Nice brother.”

“And the clock’s ticking. Will you make the plane? I need to call Camilla’s lawyer, but my guess is if you’re not on it, she’ll be on one to you by the end of the day.”

“Yeah.” I scrubbed my hand through my hair. “I’ll be there. Let me know if anything worse than this comes up.”

“Hits just keep on coming for you, but I bet you do this and it’ll be done.”

“Yeah. We’ll see. See you soon.” I disconnected the call. It better be done. If Camilla didn’t stick to her word on this, I was done playing the nice guy.

I grabbed the rest of my clothes off the tile floor and didn’t bother putting them on since they were dirty from yesterday. As much as the idea of spending the day in bed with Rebecca sounded like the best idea ever, getting rid of Camilla was smarter.

Hurrying down the stairs, I made sure to move quietly, and I slid into my boots where I left them inside the back door. Dressed enough to make it to the guesthouse, I went straight there and packed.

I’d brought four suitcases of clothes with me, an entire wardrobe I’d barely worn except for a few T-shirts and jeans, but I’d ordered almost all new work shirts that first day I was here. I stood in front of the wardrobe hanging in the closet, debating, and quickly decided.

Screw meeting Camilla in dress pants and shirts and fancy, shiny polished shoes. She wanted to meet me, she could meet the guy I was today, the guy I’d been not only for the last month but for the first twenty-one years of my life.

I grabbed a few shirts and a pair of jeans, just enough to take in a small bag for a quick trip. I’d stay the night if I had to, maybe two, but I wasn’t staying.

A quick flick at the clock told me I needed to get moving.

I still needed to tell Rebecca what was going on, but that could wait until after my shower. And once I called an Uber. Shit, I hadn’t even thought of how I’d get to the airport and it wasn’t like Carlton had their own taxi company. Getting a ride could take awhile.

“Damn it,” I cursed, while I scrubbed my hair in the shower. Maybe Rebecca would let me borrow her other truck. It was old, rusted around the wheel rims and I knew without asking the truck was Joseph’s. The Iowa State decal in the background was a dead giveaway. Also the mess in the cab. Rebecca wasn’t a neat freak, but she cleaned. She was always picking up her house, de-cluttering it. No way would she leave food wrappers, receipts, and other items haphazardly strewn all over a truck. Plus, she hadn’t driven it since I arrived.

It was just the reminder that while she might have cleaned out his clothes and some other random items around her house of him, and she’d invited me into her bed she’d shared with him, he was still very much a part of her life.

Not that I expected different, but was it possible to compete with a dead, well-loved man?

And was I the guy to even try?

Until a few weeks ago, I’d never second-guessed my career despite all the drama and ridiculous bullshit I had to deal with. Like paparazzi caring about where I was or strangers who had no problem shoving their way into my personal life because they saw my face on the big screen.

I put up with all of it, willingly and happily, even thankful because it meant if I was wanted by the masses, I’d been wanted in Hollywood. It meant I was successful.

I still couldn’t shake the rot in my gut at the thought of leaving Rebecca, even if it was for just a few days.

---

She was still asleep when I returned to her room. My bag was by the back door and I’d brewed a pot of coffee before I came upstairs. Last night had been incredible.

I wasn’t the guy who took it lightly when a woman gave herself to me, and even before Camilla, I wasn’t the guy who filled his weekends with meaningless one-night stands. I was raised better than that, had seen my parents happily married for over twenty-five years before I left home. I’d been too busy to date when I moved to California and got my first large role, and even when my publicist tried to get me to date another actress for the PR opportunities, I refused.

I wouldn’t fake it and I refused to make my career by giving up my morals the first time I had the chance. Then, I’d been married to Camilla. I wasn’t just faithful, I thought I had all I wanted, would ever need. But damn, sometimes life threw you one hell of a curveball.

Much like the woman currently sleeping in her bed, one hand flung to the side. She was on her back now, covers lifted to her chest but her leg was bent, knee and thigh exposed.

And hell if I didn’t want to run my lips and fingers up the silky cream of her thigh right to her sweet spot. Bury myself inside her. Taste every inch of her beautiful body.

I went to her and sat on the bed next to her, in the curve of her body. Leaning over her, I brushed my lips over her mouth lightly. Her eyes fluttered open and she flashed me that same sleepy smile she’d done last night.

I hadn’t imagined it after all. “Hey. Good morning.”

Reality hit me like a knockout punch to the jaw. This. This was what I thought I had with Camilla from so early on and I had never been more wrong. I’d take Rebecca’s sleepy smile, her laughter, her body, and her ranch every day for the rest of my life and never feel I was giving up a damn thing.

Shit. She wrecked me in all the best ways, but this was not the time to make such ridiculous, life-changing decisions.

“I gotta get going, Rebecca.”

She stretched, the sheets falling so the swell of her breasts appeared. My mouth watered at the sight. Yeah…maybe it wasn’t so damn ridiculous.

“Yeah, I should get moving. There’s work to do. Would you mind getting the eggs today? I feel like cooking some omelets.”

“I’d love to.” I trailed my finger down her temple, around the curve of her ear. “But I can’t stay. I need to get back to L.A.”

Her sleep cleared with the speed of a rocket launch. “What?”