His Secret Son Page 9

  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.

  Ten

  Coop would be the first to admit that he’d been somewhat nervous upon arriving this morning, not sure of how his son would react to him. So far things were going great and he knew he had Bristol to thank for that.

  As he settled back on the sofa, he thought about what she’d told him about her childhood. Specifically, growing up without knowing her father. And then only getting to spend a couple of years with him before he’d died.

  After hearing her story, he wasn’t sure what was worse. Having parents who were bitter toward each other or having parents like his who were obsessively into each other. If he had to choose, it would be the parents who were obsessively into each other. As far as he was concerned, her mother’s resentment, bitterness and anger had only hurt Bristol. It was sad how one person’s decision could change the lives of so many. He was glad Bristol had learned from her mother’s mistake.

  He couldn’t help but smile when he remembered lunch. Laramie had cleaned his plate in record time. More than once, Bristol had to tell him to slow down so his food could digest. Coop hadn’t been sure if Laramie knew what that meant until the boy began taking smaller bites of his sandwich.

  It was obvious Bristol and Laramie had a routine. He hadn’t put up a fuss when she’d mentioned it was time for his nap. Instead, he’d waved goodbye to Coop. But not before he’d asked if Coop would be there when he woke up. Before Coop could answer, Bristol had told Laramie not to expect him to be there because he had things to do. Was that her way of letting Coop know he was wearing out his welcome?

  Hell, he hoped not. He’d placed a call to his commanding officer letting him know that he would be taking his holiday leave and would remain in the New York area. Like he’d told Bristol last night... He planned to spend as much time with his son as he could.

  “I think he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. What did you do to tire him out?” Bristol asked, grinning as she returned to the living room.

  He looked at her and thought those jeans she wore definitely displayed all her curves. Not all women could wear jeans and exude that kind of effect on a man. The kind that could shoot his libido into overdrive. The kind that made him remember, whether he wanted to or not, how things had been between them in Paris. How easily they’d connected. How insatiable their hunger for each other had been.

  With effort, he brought his mind back to the conversation. Coop smiled. “He wanted to play hide-and-seek.”

  “Oops. I should have warned you about that.”

  In a way, Coop wished she had. Then he would have given his son restrictions about not hiding in certain areas. Coop hadn’t set any rules, and Laramie had found a good place to conceal himself in his mommy’s bedroom. He hadn’t felt comfortable going into Bristol’s room but since she’d left the door open he had seen enough to know it was neat as a pin and decorated in colors of mauve and gray.

  And he had seen her bed.

  It was the same one she’d had in Paris. Seeing that bed had made him recall everything they’d done and how they’d done it. It also made him realize that his son was conceived in that bed. Or it could have been the time he’d taken her against the refrigerator.

  “How many times did you find him?”

  Bristol’s question interrupted his reverie. “Every single time.”

  No need to tell her that he’d had to coax Laramie out of his hiding place in her bedroom so he wouldn’t have to go in there looking for him. That hadn’t been easy. A promise to take him to the park one day soon cinched it.

  He watched Bristol sit down on the chair and somehow she did it in a way that was a turn-on. He inhaled deeply, remembering for the umpteenth time that Bristol was off-limits. His presence here had nothing to do with her but everything to do with their son. No matter how many good memories he had of them together, no matter how hard he’d tried to find her in Paris, and no matter how attracted he was to her now, the bottom line was that Laramie was his focus.

  A relationship with his son was the only thing that mattered. That meant he and Bristol needed to talk about a few subjects they’d skirted around.

  Deciding not to beat around the bush, he said, “So let’s talk, Bristol.”

  He could tell she was nervous. But whatever they discussed would be with the intent of putting their son’s needs before their own. Unfortunately, Coop had plenty of needs.

  He hadn’t bedded a woman since his last assignment nearly eight months ago. No particular reason he hadn’t done so other than the fact he’d been too busy trying to hire more men to help run the ranch in Laredo that he’d inherited from his grandparents.

  Cooper’s Bend was his favorite place in all the world and when he retired from being a SEAL, he planned to move there and make it his permanent home. He could retire after his twenty years with the military, which was what he planned to do. He had less than ten years left. Six more to be exact, since he’d entered the military at eighteen and could officially retire at thirty-eight. Then he would become the full-time rancher his grandfather had been. In the meantime, he had a good group of people running the place and went there from time to time to check on things.

  It might be a good idea for him to consider moving there now. That would eliminate his need to find housing in San Diego to accommodate him and Laramie. The ranch, which sat on over six-hundred acres, was plenty big. He would love for Laramie to visit him at the ranch that held so many wonderful childhood memories for him. Hell, when his son got older, he could have his own horse.

  “Yes, I think we need to cover a few things and come to an agreement,” Bristol said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Okay. What do you want to cover?” he asked her.

  She paused
and then said, “I meant what I said about not needing anything from you where Laramie is concerned.”

  Already Coop knew that wouldn’t fly. “I can’t agree to that because Laramie is my responsibility, too. A responsibility I take seriously.”

  She opened her mouth to argue the point and he held up his hand to stop her. “Not negotiable, Bristol. It doesn’t matter if you’re able to take care of him yourself. What sort of man would I be if I didn’t contribute to the welfare of my child?”

  She didn’t say anything and broke eye contact with him to gaze down at the floor. He knew she was thinking, probably of a way to counter what he’d said. As far as he was concerned she could think all she wanted, he wouldn’t change his mind. As the only grandchild, he had inherited trust funds from both sets of grandparents. Also, his parents had established an endowment for him that he’d been eligible for when he’d turned thirty. He was yet to touch any one of them. In addition to all that money and the ranch, he was heir to RCC Manufacturing, Inc., a corporation founded by his parents over thirty-five years ago upon their graduation from Harvard. Considering all of that, there was no way in hell he would not contribute to his son’s upbringing. In fact, he’d already left a message with his attorney to contact him. He intended to list Laramie’s name on all his legal documents as his heir.

  “I think we should compromise,” she finally said.

  He lifted a brow. “Compromise how?”

  “You can provide for his future, such as setting up a college fund. I’ll take care of any expenses for his well-being now.”

  Coop shook his head. “No. I still won’t agree to that. I want to provide for my child’s present and his future.”

  A frown marred her features. “Why are you being difficult?”

  He returned her frown. “Why are you? Most men who father a child and are separated from them are required to pay child support.”

  “But usually only until they are eighteen. All I’m doing is asking you to start the support at eighteen.”

  He had news for her. He intended to take care of his child for the rest of his life. The trust funds he planned to establish for Laramie would assure that. The age of eighteen had nothing to do with it. He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation with her. Most women would want his monetary offering. Was he missing something here? “Can I ask you something?”