a deep breath. Margie’s words from yesterday had annoyed her. “There is a lot about my relationship with him that you don’t know.” And one of them was the fact he was not really her husband.
“Then enlighten me. Let’s do lunch today.”
Bristol nibbled on her bottom lip. Today was not a good day. She didn’t like having to ask Ms. Charlotte to keep an eye on Laramie at the last minute. There might be a chance Coop would be available to watch him, but she couldn’t depend on that. On top of those conflicts, she and Coop still had more to work through. They needed to decide how to move forward. He wanted to spend the holidays with them and she was fine with that. What she didn’t want was what they’d shared last night muddying the waters.
She didn’t want him to think that just because she’d allowed him in her bed she’d allow him into her life. That wasn’t the case.
“Tomorrow will be better, Margie,” she heard herself say.
“Okay, and tomorrow would it be a good time for you and Steven to talk?”
Margie’s words got her attention. “Talk about what?”
Margie chuckled. “Honestly, Bristol, have you forgotten he represents a company who’s a client? A client who made it possible for you to leave that boring job to stay home with your son and paint every day.”
No, she hadn’t forgotten, mainly because Margie refused to let her. She just didn’t understand why Margie couldn’t see that Bristol and Steven didn’t click. “Fine, as long as this is strictly a business meeting, Margie.”
“What other kind of meeting would I arrange? You don’t like Steven, I get that now, although for Pete’s sake, I don’t know why. But it’s your choice. Call me later and tell me when would be a good time to get together tomorrow.”
“All right. I’ll talk to you later.”
As soon as she clicked off the phone and placed it aside, her doorbell rang. “Daddy’s back, Mommy!”
The excitement in her son’s voice touched her. At least he wasn’t annoyed like he’d been this morning when he’d discovered his favorite spot in her bed already occupied. Once he’d gone to sleep and woken back up, he’d been team Coop all over again. “Yes, sweetheart, I think your daddy is back.”
Putting the kitchen towel aside, she left the kitchen and headed toward the door.
* * *
“Good morning. I got you this,” Coop said, handing her a huge poinsettia. There was a florist shop by the hotel and when he’d seen it this morning he knew he wanted to get it for her.
“Thanks. It’s beautiful, Coop.”
“You’re welcome. I liked it when I saw it. It looks healthy and there are leaves that will be turning red in a few days.”
She smiled. “Come on in.” She stepped aside. “I just put the biscuits in the oven.”
“Biscuits? You can make biscuits?”
“Yes, thanks to Aunt Dolly.”
He entered, pulling off his Stetson and hanging his jacket on the coatrack. “I knew you could cook but claiming you can make biscuits has elevated you to another level.”
She smiled. “That’s good to know.”
He watched as she placed the potted plant on a small table not far from the Christmas tree. It was hard to believe it was a week before Christmas, but in New York it was hard to forget the season. There seemed to be a Santa on every corner and all the light posts were decorated with wreaths.
“So, what do you think?” she asked, turning to stand beside the plant he’d given her.
His focus was on her when he said, “I wish I could have seen you pregnant.”
“Where did that come from?” she asked, smiling.
“You asked what I thought and those were my thoughts while seeing you standing there, knowing my son is in the kitchen sitting at the table.”
“Coloring.”
He chuckled. “Yes, coloring.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute. “While pregnant, I looked like a blimp.”
He crossed the floor to stop in front of her. He cupped her chin in his hand. “I bet you looked beautiful.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers.
Then, as if she needed time to compose herself, she said, “The biscuits are about ready to come out the oven.”
She hurried to the kitchen.
* * *
A couple hours later, Bristol stood in front of her easel. The sound of her son’s laughter could be heard all the way upstairs, letting her know he was enjoying another day of Coop’s company.
Her thoughts shifted back to breakfast. Laramie had been glad to see his father and had talked a mile a minute. Just like yesterday, after breakfast Coop had volunteered to help clean up the kitchen. Although she’d told him his help wasn’t needed, he’d given it anyway. And she would inwardly admit there had been something comfortable about him helping with kitchen chores.
Her thoughts shifted to the poinsettia he’d given her. It was big and beautiful and looked like it belonged right in the spot she’d placed it. It had been so thoughtful of him to bring it for her, and it made her feel special, although she wished it didn’t. The only other man who’d given her flowers had been her father. He had arrived at their first meeting with flowers and had given her flowers on her birthday ever since. Even after his death the flowers were delivered. They were always a beautiful bouquet and the card always said, “You are forever loved, Dad.”
She wiped the tears from her eyes that always sprang up when she thought of her father and the little time they’d had together. But he was still making a positive impact on her life. The same way she believed Coop would make a positive impact on Laramie’s life. He was spending time with their son and that meant a lot. Laramie would miss Coop when he left but he would look forward to his father’s return.
If he returned...
She drew in a sharp breath as fear gripped her. She didn’t want to think of the risk Coop took whenever he left on a covert operation, but she couldn’t push it from her mind. Although he’d told her little about his work, he had explained to her in Paris that most of his missions were classified and couldn’t be discussed. She wondered how families of navy SEALs dealt with not knowing from one day to the next the whereabouts of their loved ones and when they would return.
The sound of her cell phone snapped her out of her reverie. She grabbed it off the table and smiled when she saw the caller was Dionne. “Hi, what’s up?”
“Just calling to check on you. Are you and my godson okay?”
Bristol smiled. “We’re fine. Just getting used to having a male presence around.” She thought of how Coop had looked, standing on her doorstep that morning wearing a Stetson, jeans, suede jacket and boots. You could take
