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The Rebel (The Millionaire Malones Book 3) Page 4
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‘Oh yeah?’ she said and then turned towards his bedroom door. ‘Now I’m calling in my backup. Evan!’
At the sound of his name, Evan bolted into Cooper’s bedroom. ‘Yeah, Mommy?’
She stretched an arm out and her son came into it for a hug. ‘Guess what? Cooper’s coming to stay with us for a while. Until his knee gets better.’
Evan’s mouth fell wide open in shock and joy and he began to bounce up and down like an Energiser bunny. ‘You mean like a sleepover?’
Cooper snorted and Maggie ignored it. ‘Kind of. We’ve got a big job to do, you and me. We have to look after him until he’s all better.’
‘Cool.’ Evan held his hand out to Cooper for a high five.
The smile returned to the big man’s face. ‘Thanks, mate.’
When Cooper realised he’d been played, he looked up at Maggie and muttered under his breath. ‘You’ll pay for this.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I fully expect to.’
Chapter Four
‡
An hour later, after they’d packed some things for Cooper and arrived back at Maggie’s house, Cooper was standing in the doorway of Maggie’s bedroom, his arms up high on the frame. She was behind him, her flat palms planted in the small of his back, just above the curve of his butt, nudging him forward. He was trying not to think about the warmth of her hands on his back. He was finding it a little distracting, especially since he’d caught her checking out his package earlier. To say that had thrown him off his game was the understatement of the year.
‘C’mon, Cooper, you’re being ridiculous.’
‘Am not.’
‘Are too,’ Maggie answered.
‘Am not,’ he replied.
‘Are too.’
He twisted his neck to look back and down at her, trying not to smirk. ‘What are you, ten years old?’
‘Shut up and get in there,’ Maggie said as she gave him an extra push. Why she thought her strength could match his—even with his injury—he had no idea.
‘Maggie Mac? This is a first. I never thought I’d be saying this while standing in the doorway of a woman’s bedroom, but I’m not going in there.’
What the hell was this woman thinking? He was here in her little house against his will, thanks to her conniving—yet genius—tactic of getting Evan involved. And now? She wanted to give up her own bed for him?
‘Oh, yes, you most definitely are. There is no way on God’s little green earth that you will fit on the sofa bed in my office. Especially having to keep that leg straight. I’m a short ass so it works fine for me.’
Maggie snuck under his raised arm and stood in the middle of her bedroom. He glanced around it. It was girly. Not pink-and lacy-girly—Maggie wasn’t that kind of woman—but it was girly nonetheless. Her wooden bed frame had scarves draped at the foot—his imagination would have run wild if this wasn’t Maggie’s bed—and there were half a dozen throw pillows stacked in a grid pattern. He’d never understood how a sane woman could be as obsessed with throw pillows as she was. Two bedside tables, twin lamps and, on one side, a pile of books that looked like it might topple over if one more were added. A Mexican blanket on the bed, a couple of framed pictures of Maggie and Evan on the walls and that was about it.
No sign of anything vaguely masculine, which was no surprise really, given that Maggie hadn’t had a man in her life since she’d had Evan. She’d been on a few dates but that was it. The last one was twelve months ago, he remembered, and when she’d dropped Evan off at his place, she’d hated when he’d teased her about the possibility of getting laid. Man, she’d stood in his living room and had blushed like a beetroot. Funny thing was, the next morning when she’d picked Evan up bright and early for his soccer game, there was nothing about her that suggested she’d had sex. He knew women well enough to know the signs. A woman who’s just had sex has a look: an exhausted ‘I’ve been awake all night swinging from the chandeliers’ look. The beatific smile. Last night’s clothes. The smile that can’t be hidden. The drowsy eyes.
He didn’t know why he’d been looking so hard for the signs, but she hadn’t exhibited any. And he didn’t want to think about why he’d felt relieved.
Cooper glanced around her bedroom. It sure was a loss to all humanity that the first man to be in Maggie’s bed since Evan was born was going to be him. On his own. She deserved some male attention. Hell, he knew she got that wherever she went in San Clemente. What he meant was, she deserved to loosen up and let go enough to have some really great sex.
He pulled himself up. He shouldn’t be thinking about Maggie and sex at the same time. He’d thought about it once before, in that crowed bar in Bali when they’d met, but Vance had moved in and chosen Maggie first. Cooper was his wingman that night so he didn’t get to choose. He took his mind off what Vance and Maggie were doing by dancing with Maggie’s Irish friend and then later holding her hair out of her face as she puked into the lush gardens of the bar. In the years since, Maggie was his friend. And friends shouldn’t think about each other having sex.
So why had he thought about that night for the six years since?
He dropped his arms to his sides and shifted his weight onto his right leg. Maggie stood cross-armed, glaring at him, a tender-hearted mix of stubborn and caring all at the same time. She let out a frustrated breath. ‘You gonna stand there all day like a big idiot or are you going to agree with me?’
‘Oh, so now I’m an idiot.’ He let go of the door frame and splayed a hand across his chest like she’d shot him with an arrow. He dipped his chin and looked at her through lowered eyelids. And yeah, maybe he pouted as well. Just for some fun. ‘Cold, Maggie Mac, cold. Talk about hitting a man when he’s down. Look at me.’ He glanced down at his leg.
‘Oh you poor pathetic thing you,’ she laughed.
That made him laugh, too. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll take the bed.’
Maggie uncrossed her arms, propped them on her hips. She looked at him a moment, as if she was debating with herself. ‘You know why I’m doing this, don’t you, Coop?’
She came closer, slipped her fingers through his. Cooper looked down. Her small hand looked so tiny in his big paw.
He squeezed her fingers tight. ‘Yeah.’
And he didn’t say what he wanted to: It’s never been a chore, Maggie Mac.
*
Supper that night was toasted cheese sandwiches on the sofa. Cooper sat at one end, his left leg stretched out in front of him, propped up on a tower of pillows on the coffee table. Maggie was at the other end and Evan was nestled in between them, freshly washed and smelling like soap, his hair stuck up all over, and with chocolate chip cookie crumbs all over his Spiderman PJs. The kid was in heaven. Maggie was sipping on some chilled white wine while Cooper stuck to water, thanks to the post-op medication he was still taking.
They’d been watching a DVD of old cartoons, and Cooper wasn’t sure who got more of a kick out of them—him or Evan.
‘This takes me back. You know what, Evan?’
Evan wriggled and turned to Cooper with wide eyes. ‘No, what?’
‘In the olden days, I used to watch these with my brother when I got home from school.’
‘You got a brother?’ Evan asked still wide-eyed.
‘Remember? I’ve got a twin brother. His name’s Callum. And I’ve got an older brother, too. Chris.’
‘Two brothers. Wow.’
Cooper got a huge kick out of the fact that Evan seemed to be in awe of everything about him. Hell, he could fix him up scrambled eggs on toast and the kid thought he was Jamie Oliver.
‘I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I’m a lonely child.’
‘I think you mean only child, sweetie.’ Maggie tousled his hair, not looking at Cooper, not even to share a secret smile about the mispronunciation.
Evan shrugged. ‘Lots of my friends at school have big brothers and little brothers.’
Maggie checked her watch and stood up, reaching for Evan�
�s hand. ‘And I bet they all have the same bedtime as you. C’mon mister. It’s time to brush those teeth and go to bed.’
‘Aw, Mommy. Can I watch one more cartoon with Cooper? Please?’
Maggie looked at Cooper and he understood the plea in her eyes. She was tired. Her shoulders slumped and there were shadows on her face. He hadn’t quite realised before how hard being a single mom must be for her, combined with working from home and everything else that came her way. He had always been around for the fun bits—the outdoor barbeques, the swimming with Evan, the cartoons, the soccer games and the bike rides—but there was routine and order and organisation about having a kid that had always been hers to handle alone. He wondered if Maggie was ever lonely, doing this all by herself. Sure, she had her mother and they were close, and he did whatever he could when he was in town, but at night, when Evan was in bed, she would have spent many nights sitting on this sofa alone.
And something seemed wrong with the universe when a woman like Maggie Mac was all alone on a Saturday night. If only he was around more he could make sure she wasn’t, but his life was on the road.
Cooper patted Evan on the shoulder. ‘You know what, mate?’
Evan turned his rapt attention to the big man sitting next to him. Cooper leaned down to whisper in his ear.
‘See this sore leg of mine? If I want to get better, I’m going to have to spend a lot of time right here on the sofa. And you know what that means?’
‘No?’ Evan whispered back so fiercely that Maggie heard every word.
‘Lots more time for you and me to watch Pepé Le Pew and Foghorn Leghorn and the Tasmanian Devil.’
‘What’s the Tasananium Devil?’
‘I’ll show you tomorrow, but right now, you need to do what your mom says and scoot off to bed.’
‘But Cooper Cooper Cooper? Will you be here when I wake up tomorrow?’
‘Sure will, mate.’
Evan jumped off the sofa, landing with a little boy thud, and ran off to the bathroom, his voice echoing in the hallway. ‘Cool!’
Maggie rubbed her eyes and sighed a big, sleepy sigh. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘I’ll just get him to bed and I’ll be back. Can I get you anything … another water?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he said and he watched Maggie walk to her son with a strange feeling lodged in his throat.
His own mother had been dead a long time, so long that the sound of her voice was now a distant memory. When she’d died, Cooper’s world had shifted and split apart. His father was cold and distant and spent most of his life in boardrooms or airplanes and couldn’t fill the void of a mother’s love, not that he tried too hard. Cooper barely made it through high school because he sought solace for his loss in the waves and in the surfers he met. His own family had fractured, so he’d searched for a new one.
But there were things he did remember about family, about his mother, that came back to him every now and then: being tucked in every night, a kiss on each eyelid and then each cheek. A loving, ‘Night night, Coop’. The smell of her perfume and her silky soft hair. And that great, huge indefinable thing a boy feels for his mother. That mother love—constant, applied in good times and bad, without judgement. Evan was lucky to have that. And while the kid had no clue now, it would shape him and make him the man he was bound to be. Maggie was doing an amazing job with the little grommit.
Cooper struggle to his feet, mindful of the doctor’s orders to keep moving. He wasn’t expecting miracles after only a couple of days, but he hadn’t sensed any improvement. Those glass shards were still grinding behind his knee and the heavy throb in his lower left leg still made it feel like a dead weight instead of a limb. But he put some weight on it and walked. Or hobbled. Slowly, unevenly, he managed to make it to the kitchen to fill his glass from the tap. He heard footsteps. When he looked over his shoulder, Maggie was there, a frown on her tired face. She’d pulled her hair into a twisted knot on top of her head and she looked like a young ballerina. Except for the Converse sneakers.
‘I could have done that,’ she admonished.
He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Relax, Maggie, I can get a glass of water.’
Cooper drank up and put his glass on the sink. ‘The little dude’s asleep already?’
‘Out like a light,’ Maggie said, sighing in response. The sigh became a yawn pretty quickly. ‘He’s had a huge day.’
‘He’s not the only one. You look exhausted.’
Maggie raised her eyebrows. ‘Why, thanks.’
‘Seriously.’ Cooper turned and backed up against the sink, his hands propped on either side of him to carry some of his weight. He leaned towards her to get a closer look. It was a face he knew well. That smart mouth. Those big brown eyes and that button nose. Her lips seemed to be a ripe peach colour most of the time. ‘You’ve got bags under your eyes. Big black smudgy bags.’
‘I always have big black smudgy bags under my eyes, Cooper, but I usually get the time to cover them with concealer. See this?’ She lifted a finger and pointed to her face. ‘This is single mommy working face.’
And then Cooper felt bad in about ten different ways. ‘You know what Maggie Mac?’
‘What?’ She looked at him with a question in her eyes.
‘You are something. I’ve watched you all these years, handling this all by yourself, year in year out. Raising Evan and always doing right by him.’
‘Oh, stop it, Cooper,’ she said with a dismissive wave. ‘I haven’t handled this all by myself. I don’t know what we would have done without Mom … and you, you big dope.’
‘I wish I could be here more to help out, to hang with Evan.’
Yeah, because it was all about Evan, right? Who was he kidding? It was about Maggie, too. She was easy, uncomplicated, fun. When he was continually surrounded by people more interested in what he did than who he was, he knew he could always came back to Maggie and their no-bullshit deal. So he’d just won a major pro competition in South Africa? It didn’t absolve him from having to stack the dishwasher when he came around for his celebratory dinner with Maggie and Evan. That was their deal. She cooked and he cleaned up. Evan was getting pretty good at stacking. Cooper made sure the kid was learning that boys had to do chores, too. The history they shared, and her friendship, was important to him. He was a long way from the family he was born into and this, right here, with Maggie and Evan? It was the next best thing. It was what he craved, after so many years of his own family’s dysfunction and so many years on the road in lonely hotel rooms, with women whose names he didn’t remember.
‘Well, the universe seems to have granted you that wish, hasn’t it, because you’re stuck here with us until that knee is better.’
‘There could be worse things than being stuck with you.’
‘But I’m bossy, remember?’ There was a hint of vulnerability in her smile, which tugged at him.
‘How could I forget that?’
She looked up at him, the tiredness in her face transforming into something else, then chuckled on a sigh. ‘Evan’s fast asleep now but he’ll be up early. Like six o’clock early. So, I’m heading off to bed. I might read for a while if I can keep my eyes open.’
He reached for her, stroked his fingers up and down her arm, so soft. ‘Thanks for dinner.’
She glanced at the spot where his fingers were on her skin and then met his eyes, her smile cynical and so, so Maggie. ‘Toasted cheese sandwiches. My gourmet specialty.’
He reached for the hem of her T-shirt, his fingers grazing her hip. ‘Hey. They were excellent toasted cheese sandwiches with just the right bread-to-cheese ratio.’
Then he stopped touching her and put his hands in his pockets where they belonged.
She glanced down at his left leg. ‘Will you need a hand with anything? Clothes, getting into bed …?’
‘No. Thanks. I’m good.’
‘Well. Goodnight,’ Maggie turned and walked to her office with the sma
ll sofa bed.
‘Night night, Maggie,’ Cooper said quietly as he watched her go.
*
Maggie stripped off her clothes, tugged on a camisole top that accidentally matched her sensible white knickers and got into bed. She pulled up the blankets to her chin and lay there in the dark, on the slightly uncomfortable mattress, willing sleep to come.
It had been the only decent thing to do, to invite Cooper to stay so she could make sure he looked after himself and didn’t do anything stupid with that knee. More stupid than he’d already done, that is. It was the least she could do because if she was honest, she knew she could never repay him completely for what he’d meant to Evan over the years.
It had been a hard decision to make, to have a baby on her own. As a young woman with the travel bug, Maggie had already decided she didn’t want to have children because it would keep her tied down. She didn’t want anything to keep her from the next adventure or the next experience. But once she’d found she was pregnant, completely unplanned and unexpected, everything within her changed. In a flood of hormones and with a million possibilities swirling in her head, she allowed herself to imagine what being a mother would be like, and she found herself unable to contain the joy she felt at the prospect of becoming a mother.
Everything about her life from then on had been her choice, and she was happy with it. She really was.
But sometimes … sometimes she still wondered where she and Cooper might be now if she’d walked into that bar in Bali on her own that night six years ago. She’d noticed him as soon as she’d seen his blond hair above the crowd and when he’d turned to her, as if he’d known the second she’d walked in, his blue eyes shone and something had shivered up her spine. But then Vance appeared at her side, snaking his arm around her, and Marion arrived with a loud laugh, and she’d ended up pregnant and on her own, with Cooper as a friend instead of a lover.
What if Cooper hadn’t set his sights on Marion and had turned his attention to her instead? Oh, she could understand why anyone would fall for Marion. She was loud and so full of Irish craic that everyone was drawn to her.