“I have to think.”

“Think later.” He pressed his mouth to her throat.

Oh, it was glorious, glorious to ache again. But she knew too well what came from soothing that ache. “Coop, we can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can. I’ll show you.”

With a laugh that came out half moan, she turned her head away. “My head’s spinning. You have to stop. God, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

“I haven’t even started. Come upstairs, come upstairs with me, Zoe. I want to feel you under me. I want to feel myself inside you.”

“I want to.” She trembled, the needs exploding inside her like firebombs. “Coop, I need to think first. I have to think. I haven’t been with anyone in five years.”

His mouth stopped its desperate journey over her throat. Slowly he drew back to look at her. Her eyes were clouded, and her mouth was swollen and ripe. “No one?”

“No.” She swallowed and prayed for her system to level before she gave in to the urge to rip off his clothes and cut loose. “Since before Keenan was born. I feel like all those needs dried up—like old leaves. You’ve set a match to them, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“The kid’s father,” Coop said carefully. “You’re still in love with him.”

“No.” She might have laughed at that, if she weren’t so shaken. “He has nothing to do with it. Well, of course he does, but . . . I have to sit down.” She walked unsteadily to a chair. “I knew this was going to happen. I think I knew it the first time I saw you. There’s been no one, because I didn’t want anyone. Because Keenan was all that mattered to me. I have plans.” That came out as an accusation, and her eyes darkened. “Damn it, I have plans. I want to go back to school. I want to have my own flower shop one day.” Her voice began to catch, alarming him.

“Zoe—”

But she barreled right over him. “And everything was going along fine. I got the house. I wanted him to have a house, and a yard, and neighbors. Everyone said I was crazy, that I’d never be able to do it, that I’d be sorry I’d given everything up to raise a child on my own. But I’m not sorry. He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And I’ve done a good job. Keenan’s happy, and he’s bright and funny and wonderful. We have a good life, and I know I can make it even better. I haven’t needed anyone. And . . . Oh, God, I’m in love with you.”

The hand he’d lifted awkwardly to pat her head froze. “What?”

“Oh, what a mess. What a mess.” She plucked a tiny sock out of the laundry basket and wiped her eyes. “Maybe it’s just hormones. It could be, you know. But I walked in and you were sleeping with him on the couch. It was so sweet. Then you were kissing me and everything went crazy. Then you’re out in the yard looking so smug and male, showing Keenan how to hit that silly ball. And you’re eating pancakes and looking at me. I can hardly breathe when you’re looking at me.”