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
