Making a Comeback (2 page)

“So, do you girls have homework?” The cozy, happy-family vibe of the kitchen didn’t fit with the idea of a woman who would forget her children at the bus stop. But then again, maybe this happened all the time, and that was the reason Sophie was so comfortable going off with a near-stranger.

“No, silly. It’s Friday.” Sophie laughed and dragged a chair over to the pantry. She stood on it to help herself to a snack.

Cooper glanced at Olivia. He had a feeling she’d call her sister on any unauthorized snack choices.

Turned out the girl grabbed the kind of snack he’d choose for himself—a jar of organic peanut butter and whole grain bread. She carried them over to the counter and pulled a butter knife out of the drawer.

“Do you need any help?” Cooper offered. He felt like he should be doing something. Here he was in Annabelle Jones’ kitchen, supervising snack time for her daughters. He wondered if she had a phone book, but even if she did, chances were she wouldn’t have put her own cell number in it.

“Nope.” She opened a drawer at the bottom of the cabinets and pulled out two pink plastic plates and matching cups. She gave her sister a look and Olivia grabbed a gallon of organic milk out of the refrigerator.

The cordless phone on the counter rang. Caller ID showed
Jones, Annabelle.
He picked up, hoping Annabelle wouldn’t be too freaked out that a man answered instead of one of her daughters.

“This is Officer Garcia with the California Highway Patrol.” A concerned male voice came on the line. “Am I speaking to Mr. Jones?”

“No. Miss Jones is not married.” At least, her husband wasn’t living with her. And he’d heard she’d filed for divorce. Cooper felt his stomach knot. He instinctively turned away from the girls.

“Is there someone in her immediate family I can speak to?”

Cooper took the phone out to the back porch. He kept an eye on the twins but didn’t want them to overhear what was obviously bad news.

“Her immediate family members are minors. I’m caring for her young children.” He called up the kind of steady nerves he’d needed coming into a game with the bases loaded and nobody out. “Tell me what I need to know.”

“Miss Jones has been involved in a traffic accident. She’s being transported by ambulance to University Trauma Center.”

Cooper sank against the porch railing as the officer relayed the address of the hospital. He pulled out his own phone and searched for the phone number.

After hanging up with the CHP officer, he checked in on the girls and saw they were happily chatting as they ate their peanut butter sandwiches and washed them down with cold glasses of milk.

Taking a deep breath, he dialed the hospital. Claiming to be Annabelle’s brother, he was able to find out the extent of her injuries. He hung up after discovering she’d been brought in with lacerations to the face, bruised ribs, and a concussion. They would release her if she had someone who could stay with her to observe for any post-concussion complications.

With a heavy heart, he walked back into the sunny kitchen.

Two innocent faces looked up at him. They trusted him. They needed him.

“Your mom has been in a car accident.” He used the gentlest voice he could find. He didn’t want them to worry. He was doing enough of that for all of them. “She’s going to be okay, but we’ll need to pick her up from the hospital.”

Sophie blinked back tears but held her head high.

Olivia slid off the chair and threw herself at him. She clutched his legs, holding on with everything she had.

“It’s going to be okay.” He patted her back, hoping to God he was telling the truth.

* * * *

Annabelle hurt. Everywhere. Her ribs, her back, her neck, and her left shoulder throbbed in pain. But most of all her head hurt, the worst headache she’d ever had. She tried to open her eyes, but could only see out of her right eye. Her other one was covered. Trying to focus with just one eye made her dizzy. Trying to sit up made her dizzy. Even lying still made her dizzy.

Where was she? She looked around slowly, hoping the nausea would pass, or at least not get any worse. There was a heavy industrial-type curtain dividing the room in half. Along one wall stood a sink with foot pedals below and hand sanitizer above. An uncomfortable-looking couch stood against the other wall. The bed she was lying in had railings and a remote attached to the side. She could raise or lower the foot and head of the bed and call for assistance. A tube coming out of her arm was hooked up to a bag of some kind of fluid. Machines beeped softly behind her.

She’d been in a place like this before. She just couldn’t remember why.

Babies. There were babies before, one for each arm. Her babies.

Was she still in the hospital with the twins? No. She could picture them, much bigger. Walking. Dancing. Starting school. They were definitely old enough to go to school.

Was she having another baby? She looked down at her flat belly. No. That wasn’t why she was in this place. This… Oh, why couldn’t she remember what it was called? Why couldn’t she remember anything?

A man stepped into the room. He was a tall man. A strong man. An
oh-my-God
very good-looking man. His long-sleeved gray T-shirt hugged broad, well-sculpted shoulders. Black athletic shorts hung low on his hips, almost clinging to muscular thighs. His dark brown hair was a little longer than she preferred, but she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to run her fingers through it. His lips were thick, sensuous, and framed by dark whiskers—thicker than stubble, but not quite a full beard. His green-gold eyes swept over her with concern and something else. What was it called? That feeling of wanting…or needing…
something
?

Annabelle swallowed. Her throat was dry, too dry to speak. She reached for a glass of water from the bedside table. Even with one eye, she liked what she saw. But she couldn’t remember who he was. He wasn’t a stranger, she knew that much. Could feel that much.

“Come in.” Her voice sounded raspy and harsh. But maybe that was the way it always sounded.

He hesitated before entering, turning back to the hallway, he ushered two little blond girls into the room. Her daughters.
Thank God
. She recognized them. Olivia. And Sophie. The two bright lights of her life. The reason she fought through… What had happened to her? She closed her eyes, trying to recall the details.

There was screeching, crunching of metal, shattering glass, and blood. So much blood.

She remembered the blood.

Her daughters crept carefully into the room, eyes wide as they took in her appearance. She must be a real mess. Sophie clutched the man’s hand. No. It was Olivia. Sophie never wore pink. Or did she?

“Mommy, you look like a mummy.” Sophie skipped over to the side of the bed. The child’s energy bounced off her in waves. “Maybe I’ll call you Mummy from now on. Like I’m British.”

Her daughter’s laughter filled Annabelle with joy, taking the edge off her pain and confusion.

Olivia scooted closer to the man. He must be someone close to them. Olivia was slow to warm to people. She wouldn’t just reach out for someone if he wasn’t special.

So who was he? And how did she ask without looking like an idiot, or worrying her girls?

“How are you feeling, Annabelle?” She recognized his voice. It was familiar, comforting, and every bit as sexy as the rest of him. They way her name rolled off his tongue made her believe he was a lover. But she was married. No, divorced. Everything was mixed up in her head.

She reached for her water again, took a long swallow, and watched him watch her.

“I’m a little sore.” She tried to smile but her skin felt tight. Especially over her left eye. The one covered in a bandage. “But I’m alive.”

He smiled, his lips curved almost sinfully, and his gaze roamed over her banged up body as if he knew what she looked like under the sheet.

If he wasn’t her lover, he wanted to be.

How could she even think about things like that? After what she’d been through? And with her daughters right there in the room.

“Mr. Cooper said to be careful when we saw you.” Olivia peeked out from behind his legs. “And not to bounce the bed. He said to ask before giving you a hug.”

“Just Cooper. You don’t have to call me mister,” he said to Olivia, but he didn’t take his eyes off Annabelle.

“Can I give you a hug?” Olivia asked, her voice more cautious than usual.

“Of course.” Annabelle braced for the contact. The man, Cooper, picked her daughter up and gently set her on the bed. Olivia gave her a small squeeze and she felt warm tears against her face. “It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.”

Cooper was shocked by the sight of Annabelle lying in that hospital bed. Her usually flawless skin was pale and her face was half-covered in bandages. Her silky, golden locks hung matted and limp on the pillow. Her luscious lips had quivered as she’d invited him into her room.

She looked him over with the one eye not covered in gauze. Maybe she recognized him, maybe she didn’t. She’d drawn her brows together as if she was trying to figure out how she knew him, but she’d winced at the small movement.

He wondered, not for the first time, if coming here had been a mistake. The girls needed to see their mother, but if he was so shaken by her appearance, he worried they would be even more freaked out. Still, they’d driven all this way, just under the speed limit, and he’d kept glancing back wondering if he’d strapped them into their booster seats correctly in the back of his Escalade.

The moment the girls stepped into her room, Annabelle’s face had transformed. A beauty no camera could capture lit her up at the sight of her daughters. Love. Pure and simple.

“Thank you for bringing them here to see me.” Annabelle reached for his arm, and just the slightest touch sent electricity through his entire body.

“No problem.” He shrugged. Just last week he’d turned down another invite for coffee or chai tea. He didn’t want to get involved, and yet he couldn’t just walk away.

“I don’t have anyone else to…” She glanced over at her daughters, who had moved off the bed and were entertaining each other on the couch. “We’re still pretty new in town, and I don’t have many friends here yet.”

“You’ve got me.” He’d spent the better part of the last year trying not to feel anything. Now he felt too much. Annabelle Jones was real. And she needed him.

“Yes. I’ve got you…” She glanced at her daughters again, then crooked a finger at him, inviting him to come closer.

He moved toward her, and she tugged on his arm, pulling him down so she could whisper in his ear.

“Who are you? I mean, I know you, but I don’t know how I know you.” He could tell she was disturbed by the lack of recognition.

“I’m your next-door neighbor,” he whispered back.

“Oh.” She closed her eye and sank into the pillow. After a slight shake of her head, she opened her eye and swept her gaze over him. “Are we, uh…”

“We’re friends.” He figured a little white lie was necessary here. Especially since he had her children with him.

“Friends.” She sighed. “Okay, that’s good.”

“Is there someone you want me to call? Your… husband?”

“No. Not him. He’s…” She brought her right hand up to her forehead, as if pressing on it could stimulate her memory. “We’re no longer married.”

“Still, he might want to know you’ve been in an accident.” Not that Cooper wanted to be the one to tell him.

“No. He wouldn’t. That I’m sure of.” She shook her head hard enough to make her wince.

He leaned even closer, so there was no way the girls, who were giggling and squealing, could overhear. “Is there a reason you don’t want your ex-husband to know what’s happened to you? Is he violent? Abusive?”

His stomach clenched at the thought of that man hurting her or her daughters.

“No. No, that’s not…” She exhaled, briefly closing her eyes. “He’s not around. He’s…”

Her face contorted in pain…or confusion.

“Do you want me to get the nurse? Do you need something for the pain?”

“No. It’s just…foggy.” She rubbed her forehead. “Foggy…like San Francisco. No, he’s not there. He’s…oh, what’s that place? The sun sets on the wrong side of the beach.”

She drew a shape on the sheet, like a long finger.

“Florida? Is your ex-husband in Florida?” Of course he was. The hearing. Her ex-husband was testifying in the biggest steroid scandal in recent history. He’d been an investor, a silent partner who was now willing to spill his guts in an attempt to keep from losing his fortune.

“Yes. Florida.” She gave him a weak smile. “That’s the word I was looking for. It was there…but out of my reach. Like so many things. Just. Out. Of. Reach.”

She sank back against the pillow, exhausted by the effort. Annabelle had been in a serious car accident. She’d suffered a concussion and simple tasks were difficult for her. He’d had a concussion once, after being hit by a line drive. It had scared the crap out of him. One minute he felt fine, sitting in the clubhouse after the game, and the next, he couldn’t tie his shoe. The weirdest part was that he’d managed to tie one of them, but couldn’t for the life of him remember how he’d done it.

“Thank you for bringing the girls here. I’m sure you had much better things to do than hang out in a hospital with your neighbor.”

“Hopefully, they’ll release you soon.” He wondered if he should try to get some information. Maybe he could use his persuasive skills at the nurses’ station. Once upon a time, he’d been pretty charming. But that was before he’d become a disgrace. Now he wasn’t sure that his status as a Major League ballplayer would get him an advantage, or get him kicked out of the hospital.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” She closed her eyes, wincing once again. “But thank you for coming.”

“No problem.”

A quick knock on the door and the doctor entered the room.

“Ms. Jones, I’m Doctor De Rosa.” She gave a professional smile to Annabelle, but Cooper got the feeling he wasn’t welcome.

“Why don’t I take Sophie and Olivia to get something to eat?” That would give Annabelle privacy and give him something to do. Besides, he was hungry.