Читать книгу Ultimate Romance Collection - Rebecca Winters, Amalie Berlin - Страница 45

Eleven

Coop could tell from the look in Bristol’s eyes that she’d forgotten about that complication. That was unfortunate for her, since he clearly remembered. A woman claiming to be your wife was something that pretty much got stuck in your mind.

“I told you why I did it,” she said in a defensive tone.

He leaned forward. “Yes, you did. But that doesn’t mean we don’t need to talk about it. Spinning that tale might have been okay when you assumed I was dead, but as you can see, Bristol, I’m very much alive.”

When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “What do you think we should do?”

She shrugged. “Why do we have to do anything? It’s not as if anyone knows the truth but my best friend, Dionne, and her husband, Mark, who was working for the judge at the time.”

“It’s a lie, Bristol. And one thing about a lie, it can come back to haunt you when you least expect it.”

She stood and began pacing. He watched her, trying to keep his mind on the issue at hand, but found it difficult to do so. Especially when her body was in motion. He should be noticing the sound of the wooden floor creaking beneath her feet or the way her hair brushed against her shoulders as she moved. However, he wasn’t attuned to either of those things. Instead his total concentration was on her body. A body he remembered so well.

Coop couldn’t watch her move those jeans-clad thighs without recalling a time he’d been between them. Recollecting a time when he’d tasted her. Touched her all over. He was so damn aware of every damn inch of her.

She suddenly stopped pacing and looked over at him. Why? Had she detected him staring? Should he sit there and pretend he hadn’t been? He doubted he could, even if he wanted to. That would be trying to do the impossible where she was concerned.

“What do you suggest?” she then asked him.

Right now he thought about suggesting they go upstairs to her bedroom and get it on. Rekindle those days in Paris, if for no other reason than to prove he hadn’t imagined it, that it had been as good as he’d remembered.

“There are only two options, Bristol. Either we pretend to get a divorce to end the fake marriage or we make the marriage real.”

She came and sat back down. “There’s absolutely no reason to make the marriage real, so getting a pretend divorce sounds good to me. All that involves is us saying we’re getting a divorce. No paperwork needed.” A huge smile touched her lips. “Great! That was an easy solution.”

“Not quite.”

She lifted a brow. “And why not?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “Because in the end you’ll emerge smelling like a rose, but I’ll be the scumbag. A man who deserted his wife and child for nearly two years, and then who turns around and divorces her.”

His harsh description had her lifting a brow, which meant she knew he didn’t appreciate the position she was placing him in. “But I told you why I did it,” she said.

“And now you want to take the easy way out.”

Coop wondered why he was taunting her, especially when he truly didn’t give a royal damn what people thought. They didn’t know him. No, it wasn’t the people he was concerned about. It was his son. When Laramie grew into manhood, what story would he hear about and believe? No matter how much quality time Coop would spend with his son, he ran the risk of Laramie one day wondering why he hadn’t been there for them when it mattered the most. Hadn’t Bristol said she’d wondered about it when she didn’t know the real deal with her own father?

And, if he was honest, there was another reason he was suddenly thinking this way. It was about those memories he just couldn’t shake. It was his attraction to Bristol that had been there from the start. This deep sexual chemistry they’d given in to in Paris.

He’d always prided himself on being a person who exuded total control. His SEAL friends often referred to him as the quiet storm. There was a coolness about him. Always calm. Always composed. Levelheaded to a fault. And beneath all that equanimity, he was watching, waiting, always on the lookout for the unknown. Considering the possibilities while fighting off the restlessness. But when he was provoked, all bets were off and he would kick ass like the best of them. Even more so. When pushed into a corner, he came out fighting.

What if at some point down the road Bristol met someone and decided to marry? How would that impact his relationship with his son? Would he have to stand in line for his son’s attention? His affection? Was there a way to assure that didn’t happen? Was he being a selfish bastard for wanting to make sure it never did?

“Coop?”

He blinked. Had he been staring at her while all those crazy thoughts rushed through his brain? And were they crazy? His steady gaze held hers. No, they weren’t crazy. Irrational, yes. Crazy, no. There was a difference.

When she said his name again he answered, “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

Now, that was a good question. Was he? To her he said, “I just realized how little we know of each other. How very little information was exchanged between us in Paris.”

“We didn’t do much talking,” she blurted out. From the look on her face he knew she hadn’t meant to say that. It didn’t matter since what she’d said was true. Her hormones and his testosterone had been working overtime and the only thing they’d wanted to do was assuage the desire flowing between them. He hadn’t wanted to know anything about her and she hadn’t wanted to know anything about him. For those three days, pleasure had been the name of the game and they’d played it well.

“No, we didn’t,” he said. “And now we have a son to show for it. I want to get to know you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are the mother of my child and there is a lot I don’t know.”

She lifted a chin. “Don’t sweat it. The only thing you truly need to know is that I love him, will always take care of him and put his interests first.”

He wondered if that was really all he needed to know. Maybe. Then maybe not. It had been one thing to arrive in New York a few days ago without a care in the world. His only thought had been how soon he could return to California. Now things had changed. He had a son. A real flesh-and-blood son. He also had a fake wife, who was the one woman he desired most. He could admit that no other woman had ignited his passion as quickly and as easily as Bristol.

Thoughts of her had sustained him. He recalled every single time he had touched her. How he had touched her. He remembered tasting her and how she’d tasted. How it felt to experience heaven while inside her. Their bodies locked together and hurtling into one orgasm after another.

“I’m not sure that’s the only thing I need to know, Bristol,” he said, finally addressing her earlier statement. “I need to know you.”

She frowned. “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do. And you need to know me. Laramie needs to know me. He has grandparents that he needs to get to know and vice versa.”

“I have no problem with that.”

No, she might not. But would everything be on her terms? What if that guy Culpepper decided to come back around sniffing behind her the minute Coop was gone? His mouth pressed into a hard line at the thought.

“Can I ask you something, Coop?”

He looked over at her. “Yes.”

“How do you feel about having a son? One you didn’t know you had?”

He thought about her question, wanting to answer as honestly as he could. “I always liked kids well enough, Bristol. I get along fine with Mac’s four. They call me Uncle Coop and all. But to be quite honest with you, I never intended to have any of my own because marriage wasn’t on my radar. And having one out of wedlock was something I never intended to do. But now he’s here. I’ve seen him and knowing he’s mine and that you and I made him is so overwhelming. It’s caused emotions I didn’t think were possible to feel. It’s not just about me anymore. Now it’s about my child and you.”

He saw the frown that touched her lips. “You don’t need to concern yourself with me, Coop.”

Boy, was she wrong about that. As far as he was concerned, she and his son were a package deal. The kind Mac had warned him about. But them being a package deal was Coop’s choice, since it obviously wasn’t hers. Nevertheless, he knew better than to try to convince her just yet. They would finish their conversation regarding their fake marriage later.

“When can I come back?”

“You’re always welcome here, Coop. You’re Laramie’s father and like I told you, I would never keep you from sharing a relationship with him.”

However, if she were to marry one day, a future husband might. He’d heard stories from Flipper about how one of his brothers had to constantly take his ex-wife to court for visitation rights. Just because this guy she’d married hadn’t felt comfortable with Flipper’s brother coming around whenever he’d wanted to see his daughter.

Coop didn’t want to deal with that kind of problem. “I’d like to take you and Laramie to dinner tonight,” he said.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner. Is that a problem?”

“No, but other than McDonald’s, I’ve never taken Laramie out to eat.”

He liked the idea that his son’s first time going to a restaurant would be with him. “There’s a first time for everything, don’t you think?”

* * *

Bristol recalled another time he’d told her that. It had been in Paris after he’d stripped her naked and she’d told him that no other man had been in her apartment before.

“So will you and Laramie have dinner with me tonight?”

“Where?”

“You pick the place.”

She drew in a deep breath. Maybe going out to dinner wouldn’t be so bad. “Laramie loves spaghetti and there’s an Italian restaurant not far from here.”

“I happen to like spaghetti, too, so that will work for me, if it works for you,” he said.

“It will work for me if it’s early. I need to have Laramie back here with a bath and into his pajamas no later than eight.”

He nodded. “Will reservations at five o’clock be okay?”

“Yes. That’s the time he usually eats dinner anyway.”

Bristol was wondering why on earth she was paying so much attention to Coop’s mouth when they should be figuring out details regarding Laramie. Why was she paying so much attention to his captivating eyes? To his masculine body? She saw men all the time but had never focused on any of those things. Why him? She knew the answer. Mainly because she knew how that mouth felt connected to hers.

She knew how it felt to be held within the scope of those eyes while desire streamed through her. And she knew all about that masculine body. How it felt to be beneath it. To feel the weight of it on her. To feel him inside her. Her breathing became choppy and she forced her gaze away from him.

“Are you okay, Bristol?”

Was she? She wanted to think she was, but honestly she wasn’t sure. He’d been the last man she had slept with and now all those hot, delicious and wanton thoughts were trying to take over her senses. They really hadn’t finished figuring out how to end their fake marriage. For some reason, she found the discussion draining and really didn’t want to go back to it right now. There was no doubt in her mind he would bring it back up again.

However, there was something that had been on her mind since last night that she did want to discuss. “I’m fine, Coop, but there is something I’ve been wondering about.”

“What?”

“Your friends. Those four guys I met who were with you in Paris. Mac, Bane, Viper and Flipper. Are they okay?”

A smile touched his lips. “Yes, they’re okay. I’m surprised you remembered them.”

“They were nice and—” she said, chuckling “—unforgettable. I liked them. I often wondered if they had gotten captured with you and if they’d lost their lives.”

“No, in fact they were part of the team that rescued me. If you recall, Mac was married when you met him. He and his wife are doing fine. Bane and his estranged wife renewed their vows and Viper is married now.”

“He is?”

“Yes, and happily so. Reminds us of that every chance he gets. Flipper is still Flipper. Happy-go-lucky and cheerfully single. Bane and his wife had triplets this year, almost six months ago.”

“Triplets?”

“Yes. Two boys and a girl. They want a huge family so I guess you can say they’re off to a good start.”

“I’m glad they’re all okay. When I got word that you’d been killed, I wondered about them. I take it the five of you are still close friends.”

“Yes, and we’re closer than ever. Even while I was being held hostage a part of me believed they would find me and get me out. And they did. We stay in contact even when we’re not on a mission. I talked to them just last night and told them I had seen you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. They remembered you, as well. I also told them I had a son. They’re happy for me.”

“Even though fatherhood wasn’t anything you asked for?”

“Doesn’t matter. I used a condom. Close to a dozen if you recall. Evidently one was defective. I regret that.” He paused and then said, “But under no circumstances do I regret Laramie.”

She nodded. “Neither do I.”

He inclined his head and looked at her. Under his close scrutiny she was tempted to cross her arms over her chest. She could feel her nipples hardening. “I keep thinking that things could have been different. You could have made another decision and not had him,” he said.

She knew what he was hinting at. “Not having him wasn’t an option for me. I admit becoming a mother was the last thing on my mind, but when I found out I was pregnant I knew I would keep my baby. When I mailed that letter to you, I had no idea how you would respond. It really didn’t matter. I was doing what I thought was the right thing by letting you know. I was prepared to go solo regardless.”

“And now you don’t have to because I’m here.”

For how long? she wondered. He was still a navy SEAL and could get called away on a mission at any time. A mission he might not return from. She’d already had to deal with news of him dying once; there was no way she could go through it again. That meant she had to fall out of love with him. But how could she do that?

He had made it pretty clear that he wanted to see Laramie as often as he could. So she’d be seeing him often, too. In that case, how could she begin the process of removing him from her heart? There had to be a way and she was determined to find it. She had lost her mother, her father and her aunt. The three most important people in her life were gone. Now she had Laramie. She lived for her son and that would be enough.

“I’ll leave now so you can get some things done while Laramie is taking his nap. I’ll be back around four-thirty.”

“All right.”

She moved to walk him to the door, but he just stood there. Staring at her. More specifically, his gaze was fixated on her mouth. She saw it. Felt it. Her lips suddenly felt warm. Sensitive.

She knew she should turn away so her mouth wouldn’t be the object of his focus. But the truth was, she couldn’t. His assessing gaze was getting to her, and she couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Bristol knew what he planned the moment he took a step in her direction but she didn’t back up. She couldn’t. It was as if she was rooted in place. Then he was standing directly in front of her. His eyes penetrating hers. His features fierce.

“I thought about you a lot, Bristol. During those eleven months while being held hostage.”

His words made her heart flip several times. He had thought about her? “You did?”

“Yes. Thinking of you kept me sane...especially during those times I was being tortured,” he told her quietly.

Oh, God! Tortured? There was an intense searing in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t imagine what he’d endured.

“I would close my eyes and remember each and every time I made love to you. Every single time I kissed you. We shared a lot of kisses over those three days.”

Yes, they had. They’d shared a lot of things, including their bodies. He hadn’t been the only one who’d remembered, although her situation hadn’t been as difficult as his by any stretch of the imagination. Every time her child, their child, had kicked or moved within her womb, she would think of him. Mourn him. Grieve for him. She would also thank him for giving her his child.

“I need to kiss you,” he said in a husky tone, reclaiming her attention. “I need to kiss you as much as I need to breathe.”

And she needed to kiss him, as well. That was the shocking truth. No matter how independent she wanted to be, she needed to kiss him. Her eyes were focused on his lips with the same intensity that his had been on hers. She needed to feel the heat of her body against his.

She was succumbing to everything male that he represented.

“As you wish,” Bristol whispered. She was the one who made the first move, standing on tiptoe, leaning in close and placing her mouth against his.