His Secret Son Read online

Coop leaned in the doorway and recalled bits and pieces of what she’d told him about her past. Their son’s middle name had been her father’s first name. When they’d first met, her last name had been Lockett. He also remembered the story she’d told him about the two years she and her father had spent together before he’d died.

  “That’s a picture of you and your father, isn’t it?”

  His words had her swinging around so fast she almost dropped her paint brush. She released a nervous breath. “Coop, you scared me.”

  “Sorry,” he said, entering the room. “I woke up and found you gone and wondered where you’d taken off to.” It hadn’t been his intention to stay the night at her house, but after making love that first time, they’d slept and had awakened to make love once more. Then they’d fallen asleep again.

  She smiled over at him. “I didn’t want to wake you. In addition to painting during Laramie’s nap time, I often paint late at night when he’s asleep.” She then broke eye contact and glanced at the framed photograph. “Yes, that’s my father,” she said proudly. He could hear the love in her voice.

  “Randall Lockett was your father.”

  She snatched her gaze to him. “How do you know that?”

  He could see the surprised look on her face. Was her father’s identity supposed to be a secret or something? “I recognize him. I’m familiar with his work thanks to my parents, namely my mother. She owns several of his paintings.”

  “She does?”

  “Yes.”

  He glanced at her easel and back at her before saying, “I even met him once when he came to Austin for an art show to benefit one of my mother’s charities. I liked his work. I should have made the connection in Paris with your last name being Lockett and the two of you having similar styles. But it never crossed my mind.” There was no need to tell her that the only thing that had been on his mind was getting her to the nearest bed.

  “I can’t believe you actually met my father.”

  He heard the excitement in her voice. “Yes, I was seventeen at the time and a senior in high school. It was the last event my mother sort of forced me to attend with her and my dad. In the end, I’m glad I went. He was a nice man. Very personable. Like I said, Mom has quite a few of your father’s paintings and it was nice meeting the man who was getting so much of her money. I’m sure you know his work isn’t cheap.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, I know.”

  “I remember that time well,” he said. “I’d gotten word a few days before of my acceptance into the naval academy and was going away with my parents’ blessing. I was relieved they hadn’t placed any pressure on me to follow in their footsteps and take part in the family business.”

  “And what business is that?”

  “RCC Manufacturing Company.”

  She lifted a brow. “RCC? I’m familiar with them. They’re a huge operation based in Texas. I order a number of my art supplies through them.”

  He chuckled. “My parents would be happy to hear that.”

  “And you decided to become a SEAL instead of going into your family business?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I knew early on I wasn’t cut out for the business-suit-and-tie crowd.”

  Coop glanced back over at the framed photograph and then back at her. “You seemed surprised that I knew Randall Lockett was your father, like it was supposed to be a secret or something. Was it?”

  * * *

  Bristol looked away from Coop to glance at the picture she’d taken with her father, one that she’d proudly hung on her wall. She wished Coop wouldn’t stand there shirtless and in his bare feet. In jeans riding low on his hips and not quite zipped up all the way, with the snap undone. He looked way too sexy for her peace of mind.

  She’d yet to answer Coop’s question and she realized how little they knew about each other, even with all the intimacy they’d shared. She blamed it on the fact that whenever they were together they did little talking due to all the sexual chemistry surrounding them. Like now. She could feel it and she knew he did, as well.

  She hadn’t known so much need had been bottled up inside her. All it had taken was Coop unleashing it and she’d become a mad woman wanting to make up for lost time. Luckily for her, he’d been the same way. It was as if they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other.

  “It’s not a secret per se. I just don’t go around broadcasting it, so few people know. I don’t want to use his name to build my own career as an artist, although I am proud to have been Randall Lockett’s daughter.”

  “And I’m sure he was glad he was Bristol Lockett’s father.”

  His words made her feel good. More than once, her father had told her how proud he was of her and all she’d accomplished. “Thank you for saying that.”

  “No need to thank me.”

  He moved around the room, looking at the easels showing various paintings she had done. She wasn’t used to anyone invading her space, especially in here. For some reason his presence didn’t bother her.

  Another thing that didn’t bother her, when maybe it should have, was how quickly they’d become intimate again. Had it been just the night before when he’d shown up at the gallery? She had wanted him immediately. Had needed him sexually. And he’d delivered, satisfying her.

  It wasn’t his fault that she had fallen in love with him years ago. Nor was it any of his concern that she was trying to fall out of love with him now. Sleeping with him hadn’t confused the issue for her. She knew he didn’t love her back.

  She needed to get her mind off Coop, namely off his body, and transfer her thoughts to something else. She walked over to the coffeepot she kept in her studio and poured a cup. She then turned to him. “Would you like some?”

  Her insides heated when his gaze roamed over her, making her realize just what she’d asked. She swallowed, thinking he’d had some already. A lot actually. But if he wanted more...she was game.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she clarified, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Coop?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, I’d love a cup.”

  She poured his coffee and he walked over to take the cup from her hand. Their fingers brushed and her stomach curled with pleasure.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They both took a sip of their coffees. Despite trying not to love him, she wanted to get to know him. Like she’d told him earlier, she was very familiar with his parents’ company. It was on the Fortune 500 list, which meant he came from money. He’d said the reason he’d wanted to become a SEAL was that the work was a better fit for his personality. And he’d become a SEAL with his parents’ blessing. She knew things didn’t always work that way for the sons of important families.

  “It’s late. I hadn’t intended to impose on you by spending the night. I’ll leave now if you want me to.”

  She looked at him over the rim of her cup. Did she want him to leave? No, she didn’t. “There’s no need, unless you want to go. You’ll probably be back in the morning for breakfast anyway.”

  He chuckled. “Only if I get an invitation.”

  “You have an invitation, Coop. I told you, you can spend as much time with Laramie as you want.”

  He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “In that case, I’d like to ask you something.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “What plans do you and Laramie have for the holidays?”

  She thought about his question. “Just a quiet time at home this year. It will be Laramie’s first Christmas where he understands that the holidays are special. I’ve been telling him that if he’s a good boy, Santa will bring him something nice. He’s been keeping his toys put away and getting better with potty training.” She paused before asking, “Why did you want to know about my plans for the holidays?”


  “Because I’m hoping I can join the two of you.” He drew in a deep breath. “And before you ask, the answer is no. I had no plans to spend Christmas with my folks.”

  Bristol remembered the last holiday they’d spent together. At that time, he’d given her the impression that he and his parents weren’t close. Now was just as good a time as any to ask him about it. After all, his parents were her son’s only living grandparents. In fact, the only living relatives Laramie had besides her and Coop, as far as she knew. If anything were to ever happen to her or Coop...

  She suddenly needed to know about the people who might one day be responsible for her son. “You’re welcome to join us, but I want you to tell me about your parents, Coop. Laramie’s grandparents.”

  He leaned against her art table, avoiding her stacks of supplies. “What do you want to know?”

  She shrugged. “Mainly, why you never want to spend the holidays with them?”

  * * *

  A part of Coop wanted to think her question was simple enough. But when it came to his parents, nothing was simple unless you accepted them for who they were. He’d done that a long time ago.

  “Come on, let’s sit on the sofa and I’ll tell you about them.”

  “Okay.”

  Together, they sat down. To be on the safe side, since she was too desirable for her own good, he sat at the other end of the sofa. He took a sip of his coffee and said, “I think my parents are swell people who after nearly thirty-five years of marriage still love each other deeply.”

  He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be wrong if I were to say they were obsessed with each other. I was told by both sets of my grandparents—who are deceased now—that it had been that way from the first, when they’d met at Harvard. Dad was from Laredo, Texas, and Mom from Laramie, Wyoming.”

  She lifted a brow. “Laramie?”

  “Yes, and before you ask, the answer is yes. She named me after the city where she was born. She loved it that much and tried getting my father to move there after they were married. But he was a Texan through and through. He’d come from generations of ranchers, but he gave up that way of life, deciding not to follow in his father’s, grandfather’s and great-grandfather’s footsteps as a rancher. He was the suit-and-tie kind. After college, he and my mom lived in Austin and started a business. Less than a year after graduating from college, the two of them were married. I was born three years later.”

  “No wonder your parents were so understanding about allowing you to have the career you wanted. They’d faced the same challenge.”

  “Yes, but my paternal grandparents weren’t as understanding. They thought Dad was throwing away his legacy. Especially since my father was their only child.”

  He paused to take another sip of coffee. “I’m told that my mom’s pregnancy with me was difficult. At one point, they thought she would die. My father was even told he might have to choose to either save his wife or his child. He picked his wife. But a top specialist arrived and assured my father he could save us both. He did. However, I think I was still a stark reminder to my dad of how close he came to losing Mom.”

  Bristol frowned, and he thought it was cute. “Surely, he didn’t hold you responsible and mistreat you in any way.”

  “No, not at all. Dad was good. However, my parents’ relationship took a turn. They were always close, but I think nearly losing Mom freaked Dad out. After that he was determined to spend every moment he could with her...for the rest of their lives. They take more trips than I can count every year, and they have a tradition of spending the holidays together somewhere—usually with friends in England. Like I told you before, I’ve never spent the holidays with my parents. I’ve always spent them with my grandparents on their ranch. And trust me, I had no complaints. My grandparents were the greatest. I loved being out on their ranch.”

  “Did you ever feel resentful of your parents for not spending time with you?”

  He knew it was hard to understand his relationship with his parents, but for her he wanted to try to explain. “It’s not that my parents never spent time with me, Bristol, because they did. They were very active in my life while growing up and there were a number of trips we took together.”

  He took another sip of coffee. “Thanks to them, I saw most of the world before my sixteenth birthday. There was never a time I didn’t think my parents loved me. However, I always knew they loved each other more.”

  “And you didn’t have a problem with that?”

  “No. I had friends whose parents didn’t even like each other, couldn’t stand to be in the same room together. Some of their parents divorced as soon as they finished school and my friends knew they had been the glue that held their parents’ unhappy marriages together. That wasn’t the case with my parents. There was never any doubt in my mind that Dad and Mom loved each other to the moon and back.”

  He didn’t say anything for a minute, then he added, “When they thought I was dead, they went bonkers. I think they got even closer, if such a thing is possible with them. When I was found alive, they refused to let me out of their sight at first. They even questioned if I should continue being a SEAL. I knew they were worried, but I wasn’t used to all the attention, at least not from them. I couldn’t wait until I finished my recuperation period to return to work.”

  She spun her cup in her hands and asked, “What happened to your grandparents’ ranch?”

  “They willed it to me, although they were fully aware of my career as a SEAL. But my grandparents also knew I would manage the ranch as well as become a SEAL. For the ranch, I hired the right people to take care of it until I retire from the military, which will be in about six years. Some of the men working at the ranch for me used to work for my grandparents and can be trusted.”

  She nodded. “What kind of ranch is it?”

  “It was always a cattle ranch but thanks to Bane’s family, the Westmorelands, I’ve added horses. Several of his family members own a horse breeding and training company. They needed another holding depot before shipping the horses off to be trained. That’s where my ranch comes in. So, I guess my ranch is a horse ranch, as well.”

  “Do you go there often?”

  “Not as much as I would like. When I do go there it’s mainly to check on things. My men have everything pretty much under control.”

  “I’m glad.”

  A part of him believed she was, which made him say, “I want to show you and Laramie my ranch one day.” He would tell her that much. He wouldn’t tell her yet that he planned to make it his primary home for whenever Laramie visited.

  She smiled and he felt a stirring in his stomach. “I’d love to see it, Coop. I know Laramie will, too. He loves horses.”

  “Then it’s settled. I will take the two of you there after the holidays.” Standing, he said, “I’ve kept you from your work long enough.”

  She smiled, standing, as well. “I’m okay. I was about to come to a stopping point anyway.”

  “You do this every night? Paint while Laramie sleeps?”

  “Not every night. Just whenever the urge hits.”

  Funny, she should mention urges. At that moment, he was swamped with another urge. “Speaking of urges, Bristol,” he said, setting his cup aside.

  “What about them?”

  “I feel one coming on myself.”

  She smiled. “You want to try your hand at painting?”

  He chuckled. “No. It’s not an urge to paint.”

  “Oh? What kind of urge is it?”

  He leaned over and whispered in her ear. She smiled and placed her own coffee cup on the table. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. “In that case, I think we need to deal with these urges of yours.”

  “I agree.” He swept her off her feet and headed toward her bedroom.

  Sixteen
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  Coop felt something poke him against his nose and he snatched his eyes open. He saw a miniature pair of eyes and a little hand right in his face. “You in my mommy’s bed,” his son all but accused.

  Yes, he was in Laramie’s mommy’s bed. Before Coop could open his mouth to assure his son that everything was okay, Laramie had pulled himself up on the bed and crawled over him, saying, “Move over, Daddy.” The little boy then planted himself in the middle of the bed, unceremoniously separating Coop and Bristol like the parting of the Red Sea.

  “Laramie!” Bristol said, quickly sitting up after coming awake. “Be nice.”

  “He in your bed, Mommy.”

  Bristol yawned and ran a hand through her son’s curls. “I know and it’s okay. Good morning, Laramie.”

  He wrapped his arms around his mother’s neck. “Good morning, Mommy.”

  Then, as if satisfied, Laramie slid beneath the covers and closed his eyes.

  Bristol glanced over at Coop and smiled. “Sorry about that.”

  “Hey, don’t apologize. I take it he does this every morning.”

  She nodded, pushing a mass of hair back from her face. “Yes. And as you can see it’s not quite six o’clock. He comes in here, gets in my bed and will go back to sleep for another hour or so, then he’ll wake up hungry. That’s how we start our day.”

  For Coop that was a bummer because he’d planned to start his day by making love to her. Now, thanks to their son, those plans would be canned. But son or no son, Coop intended to get a good morning kiss. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. “Good morning, Bristol.”

  She smiled. “Good morning, Coop.”

  He returned her smile. He’d liked waking up with her while in Paris and he liked waking up with her now. Even after making love to her multiple times last night, he still had a lot of sexual energy to work off and he knew only one other way to do so besides making love to Bristol.

  “I’m going to the fitness center.”

  She lifted a brow. “The fitness center?”

  “Yes, back at the hotel. I’m used to working out every morning.” Usually he worked out twice a day. “I’ll be back for breakfast if that’s okay.”