His Secret Son Page 12

  That little face looked so much like him it was uncanny. Maybe the next time they would have a girl and she would look more like Bristol. Coop went still.

  How could he even think what he just had? A daughter? With Bristol as the mother? Jeez.

  He stood and began pacing. He was really losing it to even think such a thing. He needed to stay focused. The only person he needed to be thinking about was his son. But how could he think of his son and not think of his son’s mother? The woman who’d given birth to him? The woman who made sure he got all the things he needed? The woman who was already teaching him a second language?

  Hadn’t he decided earlier today that they came as a package deal? But that had only been regarding financial support and nothing more. Hadn’t it? Then why was he thinking all crazy? Why was he thinking beyond the financial to something even more? To marriage?

  Because she’s the woman you want.

  Want and not love.

  He knew love had nothing to do with it. Whatever feelings he had for Bristol were purely physical. That kiss today proved it, as well as the sexual chemistry surrounding them whenever they were together. That conclusion about the nature of their relationship didn’t bother him and he doubted it bothered her.

  Coop stood and checked his watch. He needed to go to the fitness center to work off his sexual frustrations, and he had plenty. When he arrived at her house to take them to dinner, maybe he would have worked some sense back into his brain.

  Thirteen

  “Daddy is back, Mommy?”

  Bristol couldn’t ignore the excitement in her son’s voice. He had been disappointed when he woke up from his nap to find Coop gone. The light had come back into his little eyes only when she’d told him Coop would be back and would take them out to dinner to eat spaghetti.

  Laramie had jumped with anticipation when he heard the sound of the doorbell. Now he was right at her heels as she moved toward the door. He was ready and she didn’t want to admit it, but so was she. Her lips were still tingling from her and Coop’s kiss earlier and she hadn’t been able to paint for thinking of him.

  And that wasn’t good. She needed to get more than a grip. She needed to put things in perspective. When she did, that kiss would be placed on the back burner, where it belonged.

  Looking through the peephole, she confirmed it was Coop. He looked handsome, just like the Texan he was proud to say he was. She opened the door and tilted her head to look up at him. Before she could say anything, Laramie, who’d managed to squeeze between her legs, said, “Daddy, you left me.”

  Her son’s words had been spoken with such heartfelt pain that she understood why Coop reached down and pulled Laramie into his arms. She stepped back for him to enter. She was amazed at how quickly Laramie had taken to Coop. Maybe it was a male thing. Maybe he would get attached to any man. She wouldn’t know because he rarely saw other men. Ms. Charlotte’s sons came around every so often and Bristol hadn’t dated since Laramie was born.

  “I’ll get his coat so we can go,” she said, when Laramie sat down on the sofa.

  “No rush,” Coop said, glancing at her. “We have time.”

  She started to tell him that he couldn’t get all emotional whenever Laramie flashed those sad brown eyes at him. Besides, due to the nature of Coop’s job as a SEAL, there would be plenty of times when Laramie wouldn’t see him. It was not like this would be Coop’s address. He lived heaven knew where. But not here.

  She crossed the room to the coatrack to get Laramie’s jacket and heard what Coop was telling their son. He was being as honest as he could. “There will be days when Daddy will have to go away. Sometimes for a long time.”

  “How long?” Laramie asked his father. “This long?” Laramie then stretched his little arms out wide.

  “Maybe even this long,” Coop said, stretching out his own arms even wider.

  “Oh.” A disappointed pout curved Laramie’s tiny lips.

  Coop gathered his son close. “Just remember, I will always come back.”

  Bristol stopped. She had gone along with everything Coop had said until now. But considering the type of job he did, he couldn’t promise that he would always come back. How dare he make such a promise to Laramie?

  “Where you go, Daddy?”

  “Far away. To keep you safe.”

  “Keep me safe?”

  “Yes. Always.”

  Of course Laramie had more questions but Bristol had heard enough. She grabbed his coat off the coatrack, determined that she would have a talk with Coop when they returned from dinner, after she put Laramie to bed.

  “Here’s his coat,” she said, returning to the living room to hand the coat to Coop.

  There was no need for her to try and put on Laramie’s coat since he was determined to stick to Coop like glue. The thought didn’t bother her and she wasn’t filled with even an ounce of jealousy. There was enough of Laramie to go around for the both of them. She thought it was sad her mother hadn’t thought that way when it came to Bristol’s father.

  “Ready?”

  She glanced over at Coop as she buttoned up her own coat. “Yes.”

  “I rented a car for us to use,” Coop said, picking up Laramie.

  “Just to go to the restaurant? We could have taken a cab.”

  “I plan to be in New York for a while and figured I would need one for you and Laramie.”

  She frowned. “Why would you need it for me and Laramie? If we need to go anywhere, we can take the subway like we always do.”

  “Not while I’m around,” he said, heading for the door with Laramie.

  Bristol didn’t move for a moment, trying to push feelings of annoyance away. She was not used to depending on anyone except Ms. Charlotte. She should just accept what he’d offered as a kind and thoughtful gesture and let it go. Besides, her mother had always told her to pick her battles. What was foremost on her mind right now was the lie he’d told their son a few moments ago—that promise to always come back.

  * * *

  “Are you okay?” Coop asked Bristol, after she opened the front door. They were returning from dinner and he was carrying a sleeping Laramie in his arms.

  “I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You were quiet at dinner.”

  She shrugged as she closed the door behind them. “I think Laramie did enough talking for the both of us.”

  Coop couldn’t help but chuckle. That was true. His son had definitely been the life of the party. Their waitress had fallen in love with him and had been surprised at how well he conversed for his age. Laramie had eaten all of his spaghetti and clapped his hands afterward, saying how good it was.

  Keeping his word to Bane about sending a picture, Coop had given their waitress his cell phone and asked her to take one of them. At first Bristol hadn’t wanted to participate, saying it was about him and his son, and that his friends wouldn’t want her included. He’d dismissed that assumption by reminding her how much they’d liked her when they’d met her in Paris.

  The picture was perfect. They had looked like a family dining out together, enjoying their meal and each other’s company. In addition to Bane, Coop had texted the photo to the others. Within minutes, his phone had blown up with their responses. They all thought Laramie was a mini-Coop just as he assumed they would. They also thought Bristol looked good. Really good. And texted him to tell her hello. They also said how good the three of them looked together. Funny, he’d thought the same thing.

  He couldn’t help but notice how little Bristol had said all evening. Was something bothering her? He knew she hadn’t been keen on him renting a car just to have it available for her and Laramie, but surely she wasn’t upset because of that.

  “You want him upstairs, right?” he asked to make certain.

  “Yes. I need
to undress him for bed,” she said, removing her coat. “It’s past his bedtime. He lasted longer than I thought he would.”

  Carrying their son, he followed her up the stairs, trying not to notice the sway of her hips and the curve of her backside. But he did notice. He was a man after all, and didn’t intend to feel guilty about checking her out.

  He placed Laramie on the bed then watched while Bristol removed his clothes and put him in pajamas. Laramie opened his eyes once and gave his mother a droopy smile. “Love you, Mommy.”

  “Love you back, Laramie. See you in the morning.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Then he drifted back to sleep.

  Coop felt like an intruder to what was probably a usual bedtime exchange between mother and son. An exchange he was witnessing for the first time, one he felt no part of. He would have loved to dress his son for bed. But he hadn’t been asked. Instead, he’d been delegated to the sidelines.

  Bristol then glanced over at him and whispered, “We need to talk.”

  There was something in her tone. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he wasn’t going to like it. “Okay.”

  She moved out of the room and he followed. In spite of his mixed emotions while watching Laramie’s bedtime routine, Coop enjoyed walking behind Bristol. She helped keep his libido healthy. He thought now what he’d thought a number of times before. She looked good in jeans. He wondered if his son’s birth was the reason behind all those curves that now looked even more delectable to him.

  “Coffee or beer?”

  Bristol’s question thrown over her shoulder drew his attention. He had a feeling he would need something stronger than coffee. Probably even stronger than beer, so he would take the alcohol. “Beer.”

  She kept walking toward the kitchen while he remained in the living room. With her no longer in sight, he turned his attention to the Christmas tree. He might be wrong but it looked like she’d added more ornaments than were there yesterday. The tree looked all bright and festive, recalling to his mind how perfunctorily the tradition was observed in his own family. His parents, or rather the housekeeper, put up a tree every year. And it remained up until New Year’s whether anyone was there to enjoy it or not.

  He couldn’t help but recall his telephone call to his parents earlier today, to let them know about Laramie. They were surprised he’d been so careless with protection and his father had strongly suggested Coop get a blood test before claiming anyone. His mother had stated that if Laramie was truly his, then they would give the little boy all the love they’d given to Coop. He’d had to chuckle at that.

  When his mother asked what was funny, he’d respectfully said nothing. They just didn’t get it, but at this point in his life, he didn’t care. His parents weren’t going to change and he was used to their behavior.

  A part of him wondered if he would one day find his soul mate, like his father had. Coop knew well the story of how his parents had met in college and fallen in love, apparently at first sight. He often wondered if his parents had really planned for him, although they claimed they had. One thing was for certain, if Coop ever did meet his soul mate, he wouldn’t get so wrapped up in her that he wouldn’t love with equal intensity any child they’d made together.

  He drew in a deep breath. Why was he thinking about soul mates? As far as he was concerned, one didn’t exist for him. Laramie would most likely be his only child. He was satisfied with that.

  “Here you are.”

  He turned and Bristol handed him his beer. It was cold, but what he felt was the warmth of her hand when they touched. She had a beer for herself, as well. This was the first time he’d seen her drink beer instead of tea.

  “I didn’t know you drank beer,” he said, tempted to reach out and touch that lone dimple in one of her cheeks.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Coop.”

  She had him there. “What do you want to talk about?” he asked.

  She moved past him to sit down on the sofa and, as usual, he watched her movements. He wanted to go sit beside her, but knew he shouldn’t. For two people who’d made a baby together, they were as far apart as ever. He felt it. She was upset about something and he couldn’t wait to hear what it was. He moved to sit down in the chair across from her.

  “I want to talk about what you told Laramie.”

  He lifted a brow. “And what did I tell Laramie?”

  The lamp in the room cast a soft light on her features. She wore her hair up in a ponytail with little curls fanning her face. He remembered her wearing a similar style three years ago. He’d taken the band out of her hair so it could fan around her shoulders. His fingers itched to do the same thing now.

  “That you would always come back to him.”

  “I will.”

  She frowned. “You don’t know that.”

  Now he was the one who frowned. “Do you think I’d deliberately stay away after seeing him? After getting to know him? You think I’d shuck my responsibilities? Even worse—that I could stop loving him and forget about him?”

  “That’s not what I’m insinuating, Coop. You’re missing the point.”

  He leaned forward, needing to study her expression. To try deciphering what the hell she was talking about. “So what is the point? Why don’t I know that I will always come back to him?”

  “Because.”

  He lifted a brow. “Because what?”

  He watched her bury her face in her hands and draw in a deep breath before looking back up at him. The anguish he saw in her gaze made his insides clench when she said, “Because you could die.”

  Coop didn’t say anything. Flashes of a time when everyone thought he had died, when he’d lived each day extremely close to death, filtered through his mind. He pushed the memories back and concentrated on the real fear he saw in Bristol’s eyes. That was what he would address. “Yes, I could die. But so could you.”

  He saw the shiver pass through her before she lifted her chin. “Don’t even try to compare what I do with what you do. I paint. You and others like you carry the weight of the world and all of the country’s problems on your shoulders. You constantly put your life in danger, Coop. Do you deny that?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t deny it. But whenever I leave for any mission, I have every intention of coming back. Would you have preferred me to tell my son I won’t be coming back?”

  “No, but I wish you wouldn’t make promises you might not be able to keep. If anything ever happens to you, I will be the one who has to explain what happened.”

  Why were they talking about him dying? Thanks to his son, he had every reason to live, not that he’d ever taken life lightly. But now he had someone in his life who made living doubly important. “I think you’re going to the extreme with this, Bristol.”

  It was clear his words angered her. “You think I’m going to the extreme? You aren’t the one who got word while four months pregnant that the father of her child was dead. Dead, Coop. I thought you’d died like all the others.”

  He frowned. “What others?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I prefer you don’t make promises to Laramie you might not be able to keep.”

  He stood, feeling angry now, as well. “Then I suggest you do the same. Stop telling him at bedtime that you’ll see him in the morning. Anything can happen to you overnight. You could even die in your sleep.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “Stop being ridiculous.”

  His jaw tightened. “Then I suggest you stop being ridiculous, too. There are no guarantees in life. People die every day. When your time comes, there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

  She took a step forward. Got in his face. “I guess of all people you should know, since you had a chance to beat death.”

  Not good, he thought, meeting her eyes. He wished she didn’
t smell so good and he definitely preferred her not standing so close. As if it had a will of its own, his gaze moved from her face to her body. She was beautiful even when she was angry.

  “And just what are you looking at?” she all but snapped.

  Since she asked, he had no qualms in telling her. “You. Did I tell you how good you looked tonight?”

  Fourteen

  Bristol suddenly realized she might have made a mistake by getting in Coop’s space. How had they gone from discussing his death to how good he thought she looked?

  She angrily crossed her arms over her chest and then wished she hadn’t when his gaze shifted to her chest. As if on cue her nipples hardened right before his eyes. She drew in a deep breath and took a step back. “I think it’s time for you to go.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you wanted to talk,” he said, reclaiming the distance she’d put between them.

  “I think we’ve said enough for tonight.”

  “Do you? Have you ever noticed we never seem to resolve anything when we talk?”

  “And whose fault is that?” she snapped.

  “Both of ours.” A smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I agree that we’ve said enough for tonight.”

  “Good.”

  “No, Bristol, this is good.” And then before she realized what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Shivers of pleasure, the kind she only experienced with him, shot through every part of Bristol. Her eyelids fluttered shut, too overtaken by desire to remain open. When Coop slipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting of the peppermint candy he’d been sucking on earlier, she shuddered. More enjoyable shivers ran up her spine. Sensations consumed her. When his hands wrapped around her middle, she was pulled close to the fit of his hard, masculine body.

  When she felt his engorged erection nestled in the juncture of her thighs, she couldn’t help but moan. How could they have been talking about serious stuff one minute and kissing the next?

  Heated pleasure nearly melted her where she stood. She should be fighting to hold on to her sanity, but she couldn’t. Even thinking of it was almost impossible. His assault on her mouth was sensuous and unhurried. It was mind-blowing. It had awakened needs long ago forgotten. And when she thought she couldn’t possibly handle anymore, he deepened the kiss and new sensations overtook her.