Читать книгу Ultimate Romance Collection - Rebecca Winters, Amalie Berlin - Страница 43

Nine

“Hungry, Mommy.”

Standing at the stove while preparing breakfast, Bristol couldn’t help but smile. Each morning her son woke up in a good mood. Hungry, but good. It didn’t matter that he usually had a bedtime snack. He evidently slept that off every night.

“Mommy is almost done, Laramie. Please color me a picture.”

“Okay.”

She’d discovered early that Laramie liked marking up things, preferably with his crayon. When her walls became a target, she’d purchased him a coloring book. Now it was the norm for him to color her a picture in the book while he waited for breakfast. And since he was home with her every day, she used any free time she had to teach him things. He already knew his primary colors, how to count to ten and since she knew fluent French, she made that his second language by identifying things in both English and French. So far he was mastering both.

She had just finished cooking the eggs when the doorbell rang. Laramie ceased his chatter long enough to say, “Door, Mommy.”

Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she turned and said, “Yes, I heard it.” And from the way her heart was pounding in her chest, she knew who it was. Laramie... Coop. “I’ll be back in a minute, sweetie.”

Refusing to acknowledge the fact that she’d taken extra care with her looks this morning, she headed for the door. Coop was here to see Laramie and not her.

Before opening the door, she looked through the peephole. There was no way on earth she could dismiss just how incredibly handsome her son’s father was. With his striking masculine looks she found it hard to believe some woman hadn’t snatched him up by now. He’d said he wasn’t married, but he didn’t say whether or not there was a special woman in his life. She tried to push the thought out of her mind; it wasn’t any of her business.

Their only connection, the only reason he was standing on her doorstep a little after eight in the morning, was Laramie. And from the looks of it, he was bearing gifts. She had a feeling her son would be getting an early visit from Santa.

Inhaling deeply, she opened the door. “Good morning, Coop.”

* * *

Bristol looked even more beautiful in the daylight. Today her dark brown hair was flowing down her shoulders. And although she wasn’t wearing lipstick, she’d put something on her lips to make them shine. Another thing different from last night was her outfit. Today she was wearing a pair of jeans and a pullover sweater. Was it a coincidence or had she remembered him once telling her that red was his favorite color?

The color really didn’t matter because the woman standing in the doorway was too stunningly beautiful for words. He drew in a deep breath and pulled in her scent. She was wearing the same perfume from three years ago, from last night. He tried to keep memories of their holiday fling at bay so he could focus on their son. But then how could he, when the result of that fling was why he was here?

He recalled Mac’s lecture. Mac, being the oldest of the group and the one who’d been married the longest, had given him advice last night. If Laramie’s only interest in Bristol was his son, then he needed to make that point clear up front. Mac had known a lot of men who hadn’t. Because of that, the women in those relationships assumed romance and the baby were a package deal.

As he tried to regain control of his senses, it occurred to Coop that while he’d been checking Bristol out, she’d been doing the same with him. He cleared his throat. “Good morning, Bristol. I hope I’m not too early.”

“No, your timing is fine,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “I just finished cooking breakfast. I hope you’re hungry.”

Boy, was he ever, and it had nothing to do with food. The moment she’d opened the door, he’d felt it. The sizzle of attraction had been bad enough outside, but now, within the cozy confines of her home, it was stronger than ever. Did she feel it, too?

“Yes, I’m hungry.”

He couldn’t recall ever being swept away by a woman except for once in his life. And she had been that woman.

“Good, because I’ve made plenty. Laramie is up and as usual for this time of morning, he’s in a good mood.”

“Is he ever in a bad mood?” he asked, placing the gift-wrapped packages on her sofa.

She smiled and he wished that smile didn’t cause a stirring in his gut. “Yes, whenever he’s sleepy and tries like the dickens to fight it. That’s when he becomes cranky.” She took in the numerous gifts he’d brought. “Looks like you went shopping.”

He smiled. “I did. I was there when the gift shop at the hotel opened. I plan to do more shopping later today. It’s hard to believe Christmas is in less than two weeks.”

“Yes, it is.”

They reached the kitchen and Coop stopped dead in his tracks. The little boy sitting at the table staring at him was a miniature of himself. The emotions he’d felt when he’d seen his son last night came back to hit him tenfold. Ms. Charlotte and Bristol were right. His son resembled him so much it was uncanny.

They shared the same skin tone, eye color and shape of nose, lips and ears. And then there was that mop of thick curly hair. Although Coop wore his hair cut low now due to military regulations, for years he’d worn it long, even during his teen years. His parents hadn’t had a problem with it as long as he kept it looking neat. And he could tell, even though his son was sitting down, that he was taller than most two-year-olds. But then Cooper men were tall. He was six foot two and so was his father. His grandfathers on both sides had been six foot three.

“Who’s that?” Laramie asked his mother loudly, pointing at Coop.

“It’s not nice to point, Laramie.” The little boy put his finger down but kept an I-am-sizing-you-up look on his little face.

“Laramie, this is your daddy. Can you say Daddy?”

“Daddy?” his son asked his mother, as if for clarification.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The little boy nodded, looked back over at Coop and said, “Daddy.”

Coop’s heart missed a beat at hearing his son call him that for the first time. He watched as Laramie began waving his hand, and then said, “Hi, Daddy.”

Coop waved back. “Hi, Laramie.”

And then as if Coop was being dismissed, Laramie picked up a crayon and began coloring in the book in front of him.

“You can go ahead and sit down, Coop.”

Laramie snatched his head back up and scrunched up his face and said, “He Daddy, Mommy. Not Coop.”

Bristol smiled. “You, and only you, can call him Daddy. I can call him Coop. You call him Daddy. Understand?”

Laramie nodded his head up and down. “Yes, Mommy.”

Then to explain further she said, “I can also call him Laramie.”

Laramie’s face scrunched up again. “But that’s me.”

“Yes, but his name is Laramie, too.”

Laramie then looked at his daddy. “You got my name?” he asked.

Coop decided not to say it was the other way around. Instead he would let Bristol handle this since she seemed to know how much their son could understand. “Yes, I have your name.”

“But Mommy calls him Coop so he’ll know when I am talking to him and not to you. Okay?”

Laramie nodded. “Okay.” He then went back to coloring in his book.

Coop moved to the table and sat down. That got his son’s attention again. Laramie looked over at him and with a stern face asked, “Clean hands, Daddy?” And to show what he meant, he held his hands out in front of him. “My hands clean.”

“Oh.” Coop got the message and glanced over at Bristol. “Where can I wash my hands?”

He could tell she was fighting back a smile when she said, “There’s a bathroom right off the living room.”

He stood. “Thanks.” He headed to the bathroom to wash his hands. He had a feeling his two-year old son planned to keep him on his toes.

* * *

“Be still my hormones,” Bristol muttered under her breath as she watched Coop leave the kitchen and head for the bathroom. Today he was wearing a pair of khakis and a pullover brown sweater. She was convinced that no matter what he put on his body, he was the epitome of sexy. There wasn’t a single thing about him that didn’t start her heart fluttering and send her female senses into overdrive. Then there was that self-assured walk he’d mastered. The man was true masculinity on legs.

“Daddy gone?”

She glanced over at her son as she placed the plates on the table. Was that sadness she saw in his little eyes? Of course, she had to be imagining things since Laramie had just met Coop. He couldn’t have gotten attached already. She’d known Laramie would like Coop since he liked everybody.

“No, Daddy went to wash his hands.”

Laramie nodded and then said, “Good.” He then added, “Me got clean hands, Mommy.” And just like he’d done for Coop, as proof of how clean they were, he held them out and flipped them over a few times.

She smiled and said, “Yes, you have clean hands, Laramie.”

At that moment Coop returned and sat back down at the table. “Daddy back,” Laramie said, smiling.

Coop returned his son’s smile. “Yes, Daddy’s back.”

* * *

“Daddy, want to play some more?”

Coop, who was stretched on the floor, wondered how one little boy could have so much energy. He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. Had he been here nearly four hours already? Breakfast had been delicious and he’d discovered just what a great cook Bristol was. When he’d complimented her she credited her aunt for making sure her culinary skills were up to par before she’d left New York to live in Paris.

After breakfast he helped Bristol tidy up the kitchen, although she’d said his help was unnecessary. But he’d wanted to help. Laramie had sat at the kitchen table, ignoring them while he colored.

Afterward they had gone to the living room. They’d placed most of the presents under the tree but there had been a few he’d let his son open now. Namely, more coloring books. To give him time alone with Laramie, Bristol had gone upstairs to her studio and closed the door. He felt good knowing she trusted him to take care of Laramie.

For a two-year old, his son was pretty darn smart. He spoke in understandable sentences and even knew how to speak French. During breakfast Bristol would lapse into French with Laramie. Coop appreciated that fact since he himself spoke several different languages, including French, and he enjoyed conversing with them in the language.

“Play games, Daddy.”

Coop pulled himself up and looked at Laramie. He knew that his son didn’t know the true meaning of the word daddy. To him it was just a name, but Coop hoped when Laramie got older it would come to mean a lot more. He wouldn’t be around his son 24/7 because of the nature of his work as a SEAL. But he would be with him every chance he got.

That meant after every mission, he would head to New York. It no longer mattered that he liked California’s weather better. His son was in New York and that’s where he intended to be.

“He hasn’t worn you out yet?”

He glanced up and saw a smiling Bristol standing in the entryway to her living room. He chuckled. “No, not yet.”

“Well, you get a break since it’s lunchtime.”

As if Bristol had said a magic word, Laramie jumped up off the floor. “Lunch, Mommy?”

“Yes, Laramie. Lunch.”

He was about to race for the kitchen when Coop stopped him and asked, “Clean hands?”

Laramie’s small eyes widened. He then looked down at his hands. “No.”

Coop nodded. “Come on, let’s wash our hands.”

Bristol watched them go, walking side by side. Father and son. It was a vision she’d thought she would never see, and seeing it now pulled at her heart. She recalled the telephone call she’d made to Dionne last night, to let her know Laramie was alive. It had taken her a full hour to tell her best friend everything, including how she’d fainted.

Then Dionne had asked her some tough questions. Namely, how she felt about Laramie and if she still loved him. Bristol had to explain that of course she still loved him but now her fears were greater than ever. She had taken news of his death hard and the grief had been so deep she’d sworn never to get that attached to another person again. It seemed all those she loved eventually died. Her mother. Her father. Her aunt Dolly. Was that why she was sometimes overprotective with her son? At least Margie thought that she was.

The work Coop did was dangerous. He risked his life constantly. Most of the time his whereabouts were unknown because the nature of his work was highly classified. There was no way she could make such a person a permanent part of her life. She couldn’t imagine going through that sort of grief again. He’d beaten death once but the next time he might not be so lucky.

Dionne had asked Bristol the one question she couldn’t answer. How could a woman stop loving a man like Coop?

She had no idea but she was determined to find out. She and Coop hadn’t had a chance to sit down and talk, other than the discussion they’d had last night. She had no idea how long he would be in New York or what his plans were while he was here. He had said he wanted to spend as much time with Laramie as he could, and she didn’t have a problem with that. She wanted her son to get to know his father.

She needed to get to know him, too. There was a lot of personal information about Coop that she wasn’t privy to. She’d just learned last night that he was born in Texas. He rarely spoke of his parents but she knew they were alive. At least they had been alive three years ago.

“Mommy, hands clean now.”

Coop and Laramie had returned. Now he was sitting high on Coop’s shoulders with a huge grin on his face. “Okay, then, let’s head into the kitchen for lunch.”

Coop put Laramie down and as soon as his little feet touched the floor he took off toward the kitchen. He paused at the kitchen door long enough to look over his shoulder to say, “Come on, Mommy. Come on, Daddy. Laramie is hungry.”

Coop burst out laughing as he walked beside her. “Did I imagine it or did he eat a huge breakfast a few hours ago?”

She chuckled. “No, you didn’t imagine it. You’ll find out just how much food he consumes. You’ll never guess how much I spend on groceries.”

He stopped walking and touched her arm. She couldn’t contain the surge of sensations that settled in the middle of her stomach from his touch. “I will help you with that.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t need your help. I told you last night that I don’t want anything from you and I meant it.” All she wanted was for him to have a relationship with his son.

“I don’t agree with that.”

She frowned, detecting his anger.

“We’ll discuss this later, Coop. When Laramie takes his nap.”

Coop nodded. “Okay. Do you need help with lunch? I can fix a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“No, thanks, I’ve got it covered. Today it’s tuna sandwich and chips. He loves anything with seafood.”

“So do I.”

Bristol wondered if it would be the same way with Coop and Laramie as it was with her and her father. They had discovered so many similarities. She headed for the refrigerator, trying not to notice Coop’s sexy walk as he moved to the table, where Laramie was already seated. She couldn’t push to the back of her mind how he’d looked stretched out on her living room floor with Laramie. He had made himself at home and removed his sweater. No man had a right to such a sexy chest covered only by a T-shirt. She knew SEALs stayed fit, but he seemed to be working overtime doing so. And she tried not to think about how comfortable it felt having him here in her home with them. It was as if he belonged.

Air was nearly snatched from her lungs at the thought. How could she even think such a thing? There was no way Coop could be a permanent fixture in their lives. At least not hers. He was only here because of Laramie. Had there been more between them, he wouldn’t have just stumbled across her the way he had. He would have looked for her after his rescue. But he hadn’t. That reinforced her assumption that their holiday fling had been just that, a fling. Afterward he had moved on and not looked back. She knew she’d been out of sight and out of mind. He hadn’t expected or probably hadn’t wanted to ever see her again.

Like she told him, they would talk when she put Laramie to bed for his nap. There was a lot she and Coop needed to discuss. She had to reiterate that she wanted nothing from him. Hopefully, that would put him at ease that she wasn’t going to hit him up for child support payments. However, she had a feeling he would want to pay them anyway, just because of the responsible person he was.

But she didn’t intend to let him.

They also had to talk about her fake marriage to him. They needed to resolve that. Yes, she thought, as she began pulling the items out of the refrigerator for lunch. They definitely needed to talk.