Читать книгу Making a Comeback - Kristina Mathews - Страница 12

Was that bacon she smelled? Annabelle woke feeling stiff and sore, but a little more clear-headed than yesterday. And she was definitely hungry. She pulled her hair into a quick ponytail, brushed her teeth, and headed downstairs.

Cooper was helping Olivia and Sophie make breakfast. Both girls were covered in flour and standing on a chair at the stove making pancakes. Cooper even had a spot of flour in his hair. Who would have thought a pink and white polka dot apron could make a man look so sexy?

“Good morning.” He offered a sleepy smile as he turned off the gas burner. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I am.” Annabelle made her way toward her daughters and kissed each of them on the top of their heads. “Did you girls help make breakfast?”

“We made pancakes,” Olivia said proudly.

“And bacon and chocolate milk.” Sophie also beamed with pride.

“I made coffee, too.” Cooper went over to the coffee maker and grabbed the pot. “Would you like some?”

“Yes please.” She got the half and half out of the fridge. She’d given up the sugar, but not the cream. A dash of cinnamon helped.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Mostly.” When she wasn’t reliving the kiss and the way he’d pulled away so quickly afterward.

“Did you take anything for pain?”

“No. I’m afraid of feeling even more fuzzy-headed. And the over-the-counter stuff doesn’t really help.” She took a sip of her coffee, sighing at the rich flavor and aroma. “Besides, it’s mostly just muscle aches. I’ll feel better in a few days.”

“I have this lotion I’ve used for sore muscles. It’s all-natural, safe, and legal.” Cooper’s lips curled slightly at the last word. “It’s got lavender, eucalyptus, rosemary, and a few other essential oils. I can run next door if you’re interested.”

“That would be great.” Annabelle smiled at his never-ending thoughtfulness. “But eat first.”

He helped the twins plate the pancakes and arranged the bacon on a paper towel-covered platter. The syrup was already warmed and placed on the table with the butter. After pouring himself another cup of coffee and waiting for Annabelle and the girls to sit down, he took the chair across from her.

“This is delicious.” Annabelle savored her first bite. “Oh my goodness, you didn’t make them from scratch did you?”

“Yeah.” Cooper shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “I try to avoid processed foods as much as possible. I used whole wheat flour, organic buttermilk, and cage-free eggs.”

“You’ll have to give me the recipe. Or else come by every morning and cook for us.”

“I do need a job.” Cooper winked at her. “But I don’t think you could afford me.”

Something crackled between them. Attraction, sure, but there was something more. He had a secret. And it wasn’t about the stack of magazines he kept by his bed.

“So how much do you charge?” She took another bite of the delicious whole-wheat pancakes.

“I recently turned down an offer for three million.” He said it in such a way that she didn’t think he was kidding.

“That’s a little pricey for pancakes.” Maybe he was a celebrity chef, and that was why he was so comfortable in her kitchen.

“Well, I’ll start on the cleanup.” Cooper rose, taking his empty plate and cup to the sink. He loaded the dishwasher and set the skillet in the sink to soak.

She watched him, fascinated by this man and his mysterious background. Judging by his build, he could be an athlete, but why would he keep that hidden from her? Most of the athletes she knew were only too happy to brag about themselves.

Olivia, who was happily licking syrup off her fork, would suggest that he was a prince, in hiding from being forced to marry a girl he didn’t love. Oh dear, she really needed to wean that girl off her princess fantasies. They were becoming contagious.

“Mommy, can we go to the beach today?” Sophie asked. She was finishing off her third piece of bacon.

“Maybe this afternoon.” If she felt up to it. But she didn’t want to keep the girls inside all day, watching TV.

“Can Mr. Cooper come, too?” Sophie asked.

“I have some things I need to take care of.” He turned from the sink. “Maybe some other time.”

“Oh, okay.” Annabelle hated to hear the disappointment in her daughter’s voice. She hated her own disappointment even more. She was getting far too used to having him around.

“But I’ll be at the bus stop when you girls get home from school tomorrow.” Cooper offered a sincere smile. “I’m sure your mom will need to take it easy for the next few days. I’ll be here as backup, okay?”

“Okay.” Sophie’s smiled widened.

Olivia stood and carried her plate to the sink. She handed it to Cooper with such admiration in her eyes, Annabelle was starting to think the princess obsession would quickly turn into a Cooper obsession. Or maybe that was her own fear. She could get attached to this man far too easily.

“I’ll run and grab that lotion for you.” Cooper wiped his hands on a dishcloth once the last of the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher. “You can use it after your shower.”

“Yeah. Thanks. Are you going to stay and make sure I don’t drop the bottle?” Annabelle swallowed, tempted by the thought of him rubbing the lotion on her sore muscles.

“I think you can manage.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You did make it through the night just fine.”

“Yeah. Just fine.” Except for the longing that had kept her from getting enough sleep. He hadn’t come into her room during the night. Was he also afraid of the sizzling attraction between them? That kiss. If it wasn’t for her injuries, it could have easily burned out of control.

* * * *

Cooper went back to his place, took a long shower and tried not to think about Annabelle doing the same next door. He had to get the woman out of his head. Maybe he should have taken that offer from Toronto. Canada would be a lot better than somewhere like Japan and it would get him away from the lovely Annabelle Jones.

But if he wasn’t here for her, she’d have no one. Or her ex-husband would have to take care of her. He couldn’t let that happen. He hadn’t spent too much time around Clayton Barry, but he didn’t trust the man. The last time he’d seen his former owner had been shortly before his suspension. He’d made a compliment to Barry about his wife and the look on the other man’s face was almost enough to make Cooper believe he’d been behind his surprise drug test. But that would be counterproductive, since Cooper’s downfall had resulted in FITNatural’s downfall, and the loss of large sums of money for Mr. Barry.

Maybe he felt a little guilty about his crush on Annabelle. He wanted to blame her husband for a mere coincidence. Because if she was his wife, he’d have a hard time with any man who even looked at her.

It was time to get back to work. He should hit the gym, find a mound to throw off. But he couldn’t leave Annabelle and the girls alone. Those kids were something else. They’d chatted all morning while they were making breakfast—about their teacher, their favorite movies, and even how they got to see their Uncle Marco win the World Series, even though he wasn’t really their uncle.

They talked a little bit about their dad, but it was clear they were much closer with their mother. They did mention he’d met them in Dallas for Christmas and had promised to take them to Disneyland when he finished his “hearing test” and sold his “vitamin company.” He could only assume they meant the hearing for FITNatural and its involvement in the steroid scandal that had started with his own suspension. He wasn’t about to correct them.

What would Annabelle think when she found out he was the one who’d brought her husband’s side business to the attention of the league? And how much was the dissolving of the company going to hurt her and her children financially?

Had he truly believed his agent’s assertion that turning in evidence against FITNatural would convince the league to reduce his suspension? Not when the new commissioner had taken office with the vow to clean up baseball “once and for all.”

At least the union had prevented the hundred-game suspension for first-time offenders from passing before last season, but he was certain increases were coming. Not that it would have mattered. He’d missed that many games after all, with the fifty-game suspension and then the surgery that ended his season three days after the trade.

Cooper took his frustration with the whole mess out on his weight bench. He turned up the music and started lifting. More than he’d been lifting, but he had added frustrations to work out, especially with Annabelle so close. So close, yet so far out of his league.

The iPod shuffled to a quieter song and he thought he heard the doorbell.

Shit. Annabelle or the girls needed him. He dropped his weights and nearly sprinted to the door.

“Hi.” Annabelle stood on his doorstep with a smile and the bottle of healing lotion. “I tried this stuff on my shoulder and it works. It really works.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He was also relieved she wasn’t here for an emergency. “It’s all-natural. Really, not just as an advertising claim. It’s made by a little old lady from—”

“Pasadena?” She interrupted him with a wide grin and a twinkle in her beautiful blue eyes.

“No. Mendocino.” Why did she have to be so great? Funny and sweet and appreciative. Why couldn’t she be more like her ex? A spoiled, rich asshole.

“And have you met this little old lady personally?” She still had a smile on her face. Or most of her face, the left side didn’t quite go up as much as her right, with the giant gash on her face.

He clenched his fists to keep from reaching for her. “Yes. I have. She was at a farmer’s market and she charmed me into buying a whole case of the stuff.”

“Well, I’m glad you did, because it really does help.” Annabelle moved toward him, as if she wanted to come in. Or tell him a secret. “But I can’t reach my back. Would you mind?”

Oh hell.

He stepped back so she could come in. She smelled of lavender and rosemary and eucalyptus and something even sweeter.

A hard rock song blasted from his weight room speakers.

“Let me go turn that off.” He moved down the hallway and she followed.

Annabelle stopped in the doorway of the dining room he’d converted to a home gym and laughed. “Is that me? I don’t remember them doing a poster of that cover.”

“They didn’t. I had it done.” It had been ten years ago and he still hung the framed picture in every place he lived. “A buddy of mine worked at this place that could turn anything into a poster for twenty bucks.”

“Twenty bucks, huh?” She gave him a look that might have been disapproving, if not for the way her eyes crinkled at the corners and her lips twitched trying to hold back a smile. “That’s some pretty expensive artwork.”

“I paid another thirty for the frame.” He stood there feeling every bit the twenty-one-year-old who’d been so obsessed with Annabelle he’d convinced his friend to risk his job in making the poster when he didn’t have the rights to the photo.

“Fifty bucks, huh. Quite an investment.”

“I was young. I wanted to class up my first apartment.” He wondered briefly if she would have been interested in him back then. Would she have even looked twice at an up-and-coming ballplayer who thought he was the next hot prospect?

“I was even younger.” She approached the poster he had hanging over his weight bench. There was something almost wistful in her tone. “I was so young.”

He watched her study herself and wondered what she must be thinking. Probably that he was some kind of stalker and she would be calling her lawyer when she got home.

“So you really do use me.” She laughed, turning around to show an amused grin on her face. “Does that help you add cardio to your workouts?”

“Huh?” He was surprised at how lightly she was taking this.

“You know, getting your heart rate up?” Her gaze drew over him, settling just below his waist. “Among other things.”

“Look, Annabelle, I didn’t mean to…”

“To what? Get off on my picture?” Her gaze narrowed. “Objectify women?”

“I just liked the photo. I liked it a lot, so I had it blown up.” He felt like a real jerk. “And I kept it because it reminds me of a time in my life when I didn’t really know what the hell I was doing.”

“And you think I did?” She laughed again. “I was so young. So naïve. It’s hard to believe I’m the same person.”

He moved closer to her. Couldn’t help himself.

“Annabelle.” His voice sounded funny to his own ears—strained—as if he couldn’t believe he was standing here, with her, having this conversation with the one woman he’d always dreamed of. But she was real, and she was upset. “Look I’m sorry about the poster. I’ll take it down.”

She shook her head and stepped away from the picture.

“So could you rub this lotion on me?” She looked up at him, with such desperation in her eyes he wouldn’t have refused if she’d asked him to pour gasoline on himself and set himself on fire.

He took the bottle of healing lotion, poured a generous amount in his hands, and took a deep breath when she turned around and lifted her shirt so he could apply it to her back.

“You’re not wearing a bra.” He was screwed. Totally screwed.

“Too constrictive.” She groaned as he applied the lotion. “My ribs aren’t broken, but they still hurt like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’ll be gentle.” He rubbed slowly, gently, up and down her back. The moans of pleasure she made were almost his undoing.

She turned slightly and his hand slipped over her left breast.

Oh sweet lord.

“Not as perky as they once were.” She looked up at him with fire in her eyes. It wasn’t a mad kind of fire, not even an insulted kind of fire. But the most dangerous kind of fire. Desire.

“They’re perfect.” He dropped his hand before things could get any more out of control. “You’re perfect.”

“You think so?” She had just a hint of doubt in her voice. “Clayton offered to have them done. After the twins were born. He even booked the appointment, to celebrate their first birthday. Can you believe that?”

Cooper just shook his head. What kind of man couldn’t appreciate a woman like Annabelle?

“I guess I wasn’t good enough for him anymore.” Her voice held a small quiver of regret. “Well, I should get back to my girls. They’re watching a movie and I hate to use the TV as a babysitter.”

He grunted, not trusting himself with words. He wanted her now more than ever, but she deserved so much more than he could give.

“Oh, thanks for the lotion.” She gave him a shy smile. “Can I keep it?”

She held out her hand and he placed the bottle in her palm.

“I’m glad you have that poster.” She nodded toward the wall. “It makes me think you’re not all alone over here.”

She smiled one more time before turning and walking out his front door.

* * * *

As she walked the short distance to her house, Annabelle shook her head. He had a giant poster of her first swimsuit cover. She should have been offended. Six years ago, she would have been offended. Back when she was struggling with her identity as a new mom and wife to the man who always introduced her as the “former supermodel.” A man who had made it painfully clear he no longer found her attractive. She wasn’t joking about the boob job Clayton had tried to give her as a gift once the twins were weaned. He’d hinted that he would be more than happy to pay for a tummy tuck at the same time.

Six days ago she might have been offended. But then again, the whole purpose of that picture was to sell magazines. The kind of magazine people kept, not tossed aside after reading the articles. He’d not only kept the magazines, he’d had the cover blown up into a poster he’d carried around for ten years.

Maybe she should be flattered. Her neighbor still found her attractive. That much was very clear. Even though she was no longer nineteen, with perfectly perky breasts and flawless skin. She gently touched her stitches. She’d have to go back to the doctor to have them removed in a couple of days. And she’d have to ask Cooper for a ride. Unless she wanted to take the bus. Hopefully the doctor would clear her for driving again. But…

She closed her eyes trying to remember something, anything from the accident. What if she couldn’t get behind the wheel? She lived in California. She needed a car. Sure, she could hire a service, but she’d never really liked the idea of a stranger driving her around. And stepping out of a limo to pick up a few groceries seemed a little much.

Annabelle had really hoped to reestablish her modeling career before the end of the new year. She’d hoped for a reliable income stream so she could save the settlement money for the girls’ future. They would go to college. She’d make sure of it. Her daughters would have choices that she’d never had.

They wouldn’t have to rely on the wrong man. Or even the right man, who happened to come into their lives at the wrong time.

“Mommy, can we go to the beach now?” Sophie was less content than her sister to watch movies all day long. “Please.”

“I think we could go for a little while. Maybe pack a picnic lunch.” Annabelle was feeling much better thanks to Cooper’s magic lotion. The one made by the little old lady from Mendocino.

“Are you sure we can’t invite Cooper?” Her daughters were almost as smitten with the man as she was.

“No, sweetie. He’s been great. I just don’t want him to feel like we’re imposing on him too much.”

“Oh.” Olivia’s expression was one of mock understanding. Then she tilted her head to the side. “What’s ‘imposing’?”

“It means getting in his way, disrupting his life.”

“Were we imposing on Daddy?” Sophie asked. “Is that why he moved to Florida? Did we erupt his life?”

“Oh honey. No.” Annabelle pulled her daughter into a hug. They were quickly joined by Olivia. “No, you girls had absolutely nothing to do with your father and I getting a divorce.”

They may have been the reason they’d gotten married in the first place, but they had nothing to do with the divorce. If anything, they were the reason she’d stayed as long as she had.

“Sometimes he’d get mad when we erupted his work.” Sophie needed more assurance.

“Interrupted.” Olivia corrected her sister. “A volcano erupts, like the one that killed the dinosaurs.”

“A steroid killed the dinosaurs.” Sophie argued. “Not a volcano. It was a big rock from outer space that crashed into the ocean making them all drown.”

“Girls. Do you want to go to the beach or do you want to argue about why the dinosaurs became extinct?” Annabelle loved the way they each stood their ground, like two little scientists arguing over theories. They were already smarter than she was. Or at least, they were smarter than she’d ever been encouraged to be.

“The beach!” Both girls stopped their argument and rushed upstairs to get their swimsuits on. It still amused her to think they could wear swimsuits in January. There was only about a ten to fifteen degree difference in temperature, but it felt so much warmer down here than in San Francisco. They often wore fleece sweatshirts to the beach in San Francisco even in the summer. And they didn’t swim in the ocean. Sure they’d dip their toes in the water, explore tide pools, and fly kites at the beach. Swimming was something they did at the tennis club.

Still, she grabbed the girls’ sweaters. Just in case.

The excitement on her daughters’ faces was reassuring. Moving down here had been the right thing to do. Even if her modeling career wasn’t going to take off. The change had been just what they’d all needed to be happy, healthy, and healing.