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“I said you didn’t have to come meet me.” Cooper studied Hunter’s freckled face and huge crooked-toothed grin. No one had ever been this excited to see him before.
“Are you kidding? I couldn’t wait to meet you. I didn’t even sleep last night. I made my mom get me out of class early so we’d be here on time.”
At the mention of Hunter’s mom, Cooper looked to his left and saw a tan pair of cowboy boots. His gaze traveled up the most toned and sexy legs he’d ever seen. Her jeans fit her like a second skin and rode low on her hips, the waist ending just below the hem of her white knitted sweater. Her white down-filled vest didn’t cover up the fact that she had a knockout shape. Her beautiful face was surrounded by a mass of glorious blond curls. His fingers twitched at the thought of running through that silky hair, getting tangled in those...
Man, the image he’d conjured up of a dowdy overweight and overworked cookie baker didn’t fit Maxine Walker one iota. In fact, she was stunning.
For a couple of elevated heartbeats, he hoped she would launch herself into his lap, just as her son had. But even if he’d been wrong about her appearance, Cooper had the woman’s personality pegged right. She just stood to the side, distant and untouchable.
Her feminine hair and clothes gave off a warm impression, but the daintily sweater-clad arms crossed tightly around her midsection signaled she was anything but happy to be there.
Cooper had been in police work long enough to know when someone was trying to size him up for appraisal without actively making eye contact.
He ruffled Hunter’s curly hair as he lifted the boy off his lap, then held out his hand to the woman who’d so obviously decided to close herself off to him. “I’m Matthew Cooper, ma’am.”
Her palm was warm when it finally grasped his and he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how it had been snuggled against her slim waist just a second ago. “It’s nice to meet you, Matt. I’m Maxine Walker.”
He hated it when people called him Matt. Nobody but his mom and his childhood social worker had ever called him by his first name. And hearing the intimacy of his name from her lush pink lips would surely be his undoing. “Please, call me Cooper.”
His leg was throbbing. He needed a shave and he had no doubt his eyes reflected his pain and his lack of sleep. Damn this stupid wheelchair and this stupid injury and everything else that suddenly made him feel like less of a man in her presence.
He hadn’t been with a woman in a long time, but he needed to get things in perspective. A single mom with ties to the community—any community—wasn’t for him. And the sooner he made that clear to himself, the better off he’d be.
Unfortunately, his voice came out a bit gruffer than he intended when he said, “You shouldn’t have met me at the airport.”
* * *
At that, Maxine stepped back and recrossed her arms, not sure what to do with her hands. “Well, it’s a little too late for that, now, isn’t it?” She’d driven all the way down the mountain to meet his flight and the man acted as if they were bothering him? What a tool.
A gorgeous, masculine tool with soft green eyes that made her heart bounce around like one of Hunter’s water balloons trapped inside her rib cage.
Even with him seated in the wheelchair, she could see the man was tall and well-built. But just because he was attractive didn’t mean she was any more at ease around him. In fact, that throbbing in her heart had her feeling all kinds of uncomfortable.
She’d already been on edge meeting this Gunny Cooper guy for the first time. And now, as he and Hunter were making a spectacle out of themselves in the middle of the baggage terminal, she didn’t know where to look or where to stand.
One traveler had pulled out a cell phone, probably thinking he was recording some soldier’s emotional homecoming, which meant there would be video footage of them on the internet within hours.
And what was with the “Call me Cooper” line? Could the guy be any more macho? Who went only by their last name? She understood military personnel and people who played team sports often went by their last names, but not in polite society.
Polite society? Geez, now she sounded like her former mother-in-law, Cessy. It was just that she wasn’t Cooper’s teammate or his squad leader.
Why was she already so damn frustrated, anyway? She wasn’t annoyed with him for being in town or even for not communicating with her about the whole transportation plan. She wasn’t even annoyed with him for having such broad shoulders or piercing eyes or hands that had made her own feel small and delicate.
Okay, so maybe that bugged her a little bit.
But hugging her son as if he were a loving father returned from the battle? Come on. Hunter was her child. She’d birthed him and raised him, and this testosterone-fueled stranger was acting as if he loved the boy more than she did.
“I just meant that I didn’t want to be a bother or inconvenience anyone,” he said as he reached up to ruffle Hunter’s curly head again.
How could she detest someone who looked at her son with such affection? Why couldn’t he have just said that in the first place instead of being so abrasive?
“Don’t be crazy,” Hunter said. “Of course I was going to be here to meet my best friend for the first time. I told my mom that I didn’t care if she grounded me or if I had to ride my bike all the way down the mountain, but I was going to be here when your plane landed. No matter what.”
“Sounds like your mom has her hands full with you, kiddo.” The man helped Hunter as the boy struggled to lift the weight of the Marine Corps–issued duffel bag.
Did he just imply that Maxine couldn’t handle her own child? Her eyes narrowed at the remark.
“Hunter, leave his bag alone. It’s way too heavy for you.” She didn’t want Hunter dropping the guy’s luggage and breaking something valuable. All she needed was a lawsuit.
“Oh, he’s a tough kid, Mom. He can do it.” Cooper smiled at Hunter. Wait. Had a grown man just called her Mom? Of all the patronizing insults! And was he purposely trying to override her authority with her own son? She’d hardly said anything at all to him. So why was the guy being so antagonistic?
Before Maxine could protest, Cooper began maneuvering his wheelchair himself as Hunter matched his wheeled pace toward the taxi stand, forcing her to trail behind, which probably suited Mr. Marine just fine. If he could’ve actually walked, he probably would’ve been leaping into a cab by now since he seemed so intent on getting away from her.
“Uh, hey guys,” she called out as her boot heels clicked on the floor as she jogged to catch up with them. “Where are you going? What’s the plan?”
Cooper used his hands to stop the wheels, then tried to execute some sort of turning maneuver, probably so he could face her. But he must not have been as experienced as he’d hoped because the brake handle caught midturn and it took him a few good thwacks to disengage it.
It served the show-off right.
“Well, I’m supposed to report to Shadowview by fifteen hundred hours so I can complete my admission paperwork. They said they’d send an ambulance to transport me, but I’m feeling fine so I think I’ll just hail a cab.”
The gray pallor of his skin was heightened by dark stubble along his jawline, and the man looked anything but robust. In fact, he looked as if he was in a world of pain. Of course, being the macho marine he clearly thought he was, he’d probably rather pass out or die before admitting it to her. She almost whipped out her phone to call for an ambulance right then and there, but her son’s words interrupted her.
“You don’t need to take a cab,” Hunter told him. “My mom’s car is super roomy. And since you can sit up just fine, you can ride with us. We’ll take you to the hospital. Besides, it’s on the way to Sugar Falls anyway.”
No, no, no. Please say no, she willed him.
The man who called himself by his last name finally got his chair turned around just then and squinted those green eyes at her, as if trying to decipher the workings of her innermost thoughts. He must have read her mind because he lifted the corner of his mouth in a smirk that seemed to issue a challenge, and replied, “You know what, Hunter, that’s a good point. I’d appreciate the lift.”
Seriously? There was no way Cooper could possibly believe hitching a ride up the winding mountain road with her and her chatterbox son would be a wise decision. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t like her, so why would he want to confine himself in a vehicle with her for the next thirty minutes? Unless, of course, he was accepting the invitation—which Hunter had no business offering—just to rattle her.
Maxine decided then and there that Cooper had to be the most contrary man she’d ever met. And the most attractive. But she’d never let him know that. And she’d be damned if she would let him think he was making her uncomfortable. Instead, she’d play the game his way. And she’d do it better.
Just in case he planned to stick around after his recovery—God forbid—then it was better to put him in his place now and let him know that she was calling the shots. It was petty and childish, for sure...but Gunny Heartthrob had started it.
She pulled the keys out of her purse and dangled them as she said, “Great, then it’s all settled. I hope you don’t mind women drivers.”
Chapter Two
Maxine had barely driven away from the Shadowview Military Hospital when Hunter started in on all of his upcoming plans to visit his pen-pal-turned-best-friend. She nodded her head and made noncommittal “hmm” sounds every few minutes, but her teeth made deep indentations along her tongue as she kept herself from discrediting the man to his number one fan. She didn’t want Hunter to get his hopes up, and prayed he would lose interest in his new hero by the time Cooper got his discharge papers.
When the boy’s chattering finally slowed, she cranked up the radio volume, hoping the preprogrammed Motown station would get her back to her normally cheerful and positive self. But hearing The Miracles sing about really having a hold on her just hit too close to home. She reached out her hand to turn off the song, then froze, determined not to allow Cooper to have any type of hold on her.
Sweet mercy, even thinking the man’s name made her chest pound again. The guy was so beat up he could hardly write his signature on the admission forms, and Maxine experienced a twinge of regret for pushing him and that derelict airport-issued wheelchair to the limits when she’d quickened her steps and had forced his well-muscled arms to match her quick pace as they’d exited the baggage claim area. Really, though, it was his own fault for being so competitive—like every other male she knew—and refusing to let some female, even one who ran several miles a day, leave him in the dust.
Now, the closer she drove toward home, the more convinced she became that Cooper might not have been that much of a macho jerk if he’d been feeling better. So then why had she allowed him to get her so flustered? She tried to think of all the tidbits of information Hunter had told her about the marine these past few months. But her son usually talked nonstop, like he was doing now, and she figured it would just be easier to wait until Hunter went out with his grandmother tonight, and then go back and read the letters.
After all, it wasn’t as if their correspondence was a secret. He’d shown the letters to her before—repeatedly. She just hadn’t thought they’d been that important at the time and hadn’t given them more than a passing glance. She pulled into her parking spot in the alley behind the Sugar Falls Cookie Company. Thank goodness her bakery closed every day at three o’clock. As soon as Hunter left for his regular Thursday night outing, she could slip right up to their renovated apartment upstairs and pour herself a glass of wine. Or a bottle.
“Your grandmother is going to be here to pick you up any minute. Take your backpack inside, then run up and change into that new sweater she bought you.”
“Mom, that sweater is a joke,” Hunter said as he got out of the car and followed her inside the cool and quiet industrial-sized kitchen. “It’s way too small and it has a picture of a bear throwing a football on the front. I can’t wear that around town.”
“Sweetie, sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do to make other people in our lives happy.” Like drive an hour to the airport to pick up an injured and cranky marine we’ve just met, then get insulted by his high-handed manliness as I drive him to the hospital—just to see my son smile.
“Fiiine. Hey, I can’t wait to tell Gram all about meeting Cooper. She said she’d drive me down to Shadowview to visit him after he has his surgery. And Aunt Kylie saw his picture and said he was a hottie. I bet she’d give me a ride to visit him, too. He’s single, so maybe they could even go on a date or something when he gets all better.”
A prickle of jealousy rose up along Maxine’s spine. Her best friend Kylie was beautiful, and she did have an eye for the men. But the thought of her dating Cooper didn’t sit well. Not that Maxine had any claim on the man. Heck, she wouldn’t wish his grumpy bad attitude on anyone.
“I’ll take you to see him, honey. You don’t need to bother Gram or Aunt Kylie with that. Let’s just wait and see how his surgeries go and what the doctors say before you make any plans to go visit. Besides, you have school and lots of other stuff you need to take care of first.”
“Other stuff like what, Mom? I don’t have any friends besides Jake. And it’s not like you’re going to let me play baseball this year, either.”
“Hunter!” Maxine was tired of being made to look like the bad guy. “It’s not like you’re banned from sports or exercise. You could go running with me every afternoon. Or you could play tennis with Gram. And I bought you that Wii U sports game. I totally believe in exercising. We’ve been over this. I just don’t want you playing contact sports or getting a big ego the way most athletes do. There’s so much more to life than sports.”
“Not to your dad, there wasn’t,” a sugary voice singsonged as the back door closed.
Maxine cringed as Cessy Walker, her former mother-in-law and Bo Walker’s biggest fan, came strolling into the bakery to add her customary two cents.
“Your father loved football more than anything,” Cessy added.
He definitely loved the game more than his wife and son, Maxine thought, with Bo’s popularity coming in a close second. But she focused her attention on the woman who’d just entered the cookie shop.
Maxine nodded toward the stairway leading to their living quarters above the bakery. “Hunter, run upstairs to the apartment and change clothes. We can talk more about this when you come home tonight.”
When she saw Cessy’s gaze follow Hunter, she crossed her arms over her rib cage to hold her jittery emotions in check. No matter how helpful her mother-in-law was, the woman had a tendency to be every bit as overpowering as her perfume and opinions. Also, Maxine wasn’t sure what Cessy already knew about the whole pen pal situation, but one thing she could count on was that Hunter’s grandmother wouldn’t like him having any heroes other than Bodrick “Bo” Walker, the legendary Sugar Falls High School quarterback and Boise State second-string tight end.
“Those Hudson Jeans look good on you,” Cessy told Maxine. “I knew they would. I’ll get you another pair when I go into the city next week.”
“Thanks, but you don’t need to do that. I don’t need anything else. Really. You buy me and Hunter enough as it is.” Maxine didn’t have the heart to tell Cessy that with her cookie business booming the way it was, she probably now brought in more income than Cessy’s monthly alimony checks and stock dividends combined.
“Honey, Bo wouldn’t want his wife and only son running around in clothes off the discount store clearance racks.”
In the zinger department, this was point one for Cessy. Maxine knew her mother-in-law wasn’t trying to be insulting, but apparently the woman couldn’t help sounding a little, well, snobbish.
“Besides,” Cessy added, “I love doing this for you two. I’m the only family you have around.”
Point two. Cessy always seemed to find ways to remind Maxine that she wasn’t able to stay in frequent contact with her own scattered family.
When Hunter came back downstairs, pulling on the too-short waistband of the hated bear sweater, Maxine said, “Be good tonight for Gram.”
Cessy ushered the boy out the back door and into her brand-new red Lexus. Her former mother-in-law got a new car every year, even though she was no longer married to the dealership’s owner. Maxine suspected that a yearly lease was part of her last divorce settlement.
“And wear your seat belt,” she added. “No TV or screen time tonight until you finish your homework.”
Sometimes it seemed as though Maxine was constantly issuing orders, and it didn’t sit well with her. She feared it was a residual from her days as a military brat. Maybe she shouldn’t worry so much about Hunter. He was a good kid.
“Mom, I got it,” Hunter said. “Stop stressing about me.” Still, he lifted his head so she could drop a goodbye kiss on his cheek.
“Have him home before bedtime,” Maxine called out, but nobody in the Lexus seemed to hear her over the Barry Manilow CDs Cessy played constantly at high decibels.
As Maxine stood in the doorway, watching them drive away, a wave of loneliness swept over her. In the early mornings, when it was still dark outside, she loved the solitude as she creamed the butter and sugar in the warm industrial bakery kitchen, no sounds intruding to penetrate her thoughts. But she hated the empty feeling that engulfed her when that same silence enveloped her in the afternoons and evenings, when the outside sounds were a constant buzz of activity and a reminder that families everywhere were coming together to share the ups and downs of their days.
Normally, she would run upstairs to change into her workout clothes. She and her two best friends, Kylie and Mia, had a standing yoga date every Thursday evening. Afterward, they would have a dish session over dinner at their favorite local Italian place. She might not have the family home life she had always hoped for, but she’d sure done a fabulous job of creating a different sort of family—even if it was nontraditional.
However, now that she had met Cooper in person, her girlfriends would have to wait. Or she could call them and have them meet her here for an emergency strategy session.
She checked her watch. She had time to read just a few letters, so she went straight toward Hunter’s room. On the bulletin board above his desk, she recognized the photo she hadn’t given a second thought to when it’d arrived with the initial letter. In his camouflage uniform and helmet, he looked just like any other marine on duty.
But at some point in the past few months, that picture had been affixed right on top of an old copy of the Sugar Falls Advocate article Cessy had given her grandson about high school tight end Bo Walker.
Cessy wouldn’t like that placement too much.
A stack of APO addressed envelopes sat in a loose pile on top of the Harry Potter book that the school library had called about last week. Hunter had assured her he’d returned it on time, but maybe Maxine should’ve been checking his desk more often.
When she was one of seven siblings growing up in the cramped quarters of base housing, she’d promised herself that when she had kids of her own, they’d have privacy. She’d respect their boundaries.
But this was different. Wasn’t it? She had a parental obligation to learn more about who her son wanted to spend time with. Besides, it wasn’t as if Hunter kept to himself about these things. If it were up to him, he’d be shouting from the Victorian rooftops along Snowflake Boulevard about being the fifth grader with the coolest pen pal.
She looked at the postmarks until she found the one dated in September. That must be the first one. There was a picture still inside the envelope. She pulled out the photo and studied the desert camouflage of his uniform and the high and tight haircut of his dark hair. She’d seen enough military uniforms to last her a lifetime. Soldiers usually all looked the same to her. But the guy kneeling next to the dog seemed different. Maybe because she’d already seen that handsome face and strong jaw in person.
He wasn’t smiling in the shot, but his arm was looped around the neck of a shaggy red dog, and his black Ray Bans were propped on his forehead. Something about the sadness in the marine’s eyes called out to her, and she fingered the photo along the hardened chin as if she could force him to smile.
There was a loneliness reflected in his gaze that struck something deep inside her. Gunny Sergeant Matthew Cooper, huh? She pulled out the letter and started reading.
28 Sept.
Dear Hunter,
I’m a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Corps and I work as an MP, which is military police. I don’t fly jets or drive tanks, but I do have my own patrol Humvee and get to arrest terrorists and other soldiers who break the laws. I enclosed a picture of me with Helix, a stray dog my squadron adopted off the streets of Helmand province. I’m trying to train him to be a K9, but he doesn’t seem to want to do anything but eat MREs and hide under my bunk to sleep.
I’m impressed with your knowledge of assault aircraft and vehicles. Does your mom know you research all this? Also, I doubt your friend Jake’s cousin is a real fighter pilot if he is in the Coast Guard. That branch of the military doesn’t use those kinds of jets. Plus, it takes a long time to become a pilot, and 18 seems a bit young. Sometimes, kids make things seem bigger and better so they can show off to other kids.
Let’s see, some of the other stuff you asked about me... I’m a man, I like baseball, but I played more basketball when I was in school because I grew up in Michigan, and there were more hoops around my neighborhood. Plus, playing basketball was free. When I watch baseball, I like the Detroit Tigers best, but I don’t know much of their stats. I don’t really like the UFC. I’ve seen enough fighting in my life that I don’t want to watch it for fun.
I guess it would be pretty cool to have a mom who makes so many cookies, but I hope you eat lots of healthy foods, too. You said your mom doesn’t let you play sports, but remember that as a growing boy, you still need to get exercise in some way. We marines are required to keep fit every day. It’s called PT—physical training.
Take care,
GySgt Cooper
Maxine read that first letter, then a few of the others, before taking a break to run out to the kitchen to pour a glass of chardonnay. Together, the letters gave her a little more insight to the man who would take the time to train a stray dog and write regularly to a fatherless boy.
She brought the wine back to Hunter’s room and set her glass next to the keyboard. Hunter had asked permission to email Cooper back in November and Maxine had given her blessing, knowing that she could monitor the emails easily with the parental control program she’d installed. Even though she felt like a voyeur spying on their relationship, she had to remind herself that Hunter would’ve been willing to show her the correspondence, had she not wanted to be alone to mull over everything.
After minimizing the screen, she scrolled through all the prior email attachments that had pictures of Cooper. One of the photos showed him holding some type of foil-wrapped food package above his head. A dog—not Helix—was jumping vertically into the air trying to get it. He was laughing at the dog, his mouth open and head thrown back.
From what Maxine had pieced together from the emails, the man had recently lost his dog in some type of bombing incident. Poor guy.
She scrolled through a few more and paused at one of the shots of him not wearing his customary sunglasses. She had to admit that he was good-looking in a tough, military sort of way.