Making a Comeback (3 page)

“There’s a cafeteria on this floor. Just go down the hall and to your left,” Dr. De Rosa said.

“Great. Thanks.” He turned to the girls. “Should we go check out the cafeteria?”

“Sure.” Sophie hopped off the sofa and was ready to go.

“Okay.” Olivia glanced at her mother as if she needed assurance it was okay to go off with him.

“Be good, girls.” Annabelle smiled and nodded her approval.

“Do you think they gave Mommy weird drugs to make her talk funny?” Sophie asked once they sat down in the nearly deserted cafeteria. The twins each ordered a slice of cheese pizza and Cooper grabbed a large salad with a grilled chicken breast.

“If they did give her medicine, it was to help her body heal.” Cooper wasn’t sure how to explain the difference between healing medicine and drugs that could wreck your life. “Sometimes medicine can have side effects. But it’s important to take them when the doctor tells you to. Only when the doctor tells you to.”

“Yeah. One time we had ear affections, and we had to take this disgusting medicine.” Sophie chattered away. “It tasted like pink poop.”

“Sophie!” Olivia was apparently offended by her sister’s strong language.

“So you’ve tasted pink poop?” He couldn’t help it. The kid was a hoot.

“No. Of course not, silly.” Sophie laughed, and the sound went straight to his chest. “Miss Ramirez tells us to write
juicy
sentences. Not boring
I like cats
,
I don’t like medicine
sentences.”

“Miss Ramirez?”

“She’s our teacher.” Olivia added with a starstruck note in her voice. “But I don’t think she’s really a teacher.”

“Oh really?” He suspected he was getting in over his head.

“I think she’s really a
princess
.” Olivia was breathless with awe. “She’s just pretending to be a teacher until her Prince Charming comes along.”

“And then she’ll go back to being a teacher when she gets a divorce.” Sophie joined in the conversation, but instead of romantic ideals, she had a more jaded take on things. “That’s why Mommy had to get a job. ’Cause she got divorced.”

Yep. Definitely in over his head.

“How come girls have to give up their job when they get married?” Sophie asked thoughtfully.

“They don’t. Some women choose to stay home with their babies. Maybe that’s why your mom quit modeling, so she could look after the two of you.” He really had no idea what motivated Annabelle to quit at the height of her career. For a guy who couldn’t figure out his own motivations at times, he wasn’t in any position to judge others.

“So now we’re big girls, she can be a model again?” Olivia asked.

“Sure, why not?” He shrugged. “Your mom can be anything she wants to be.”

“I want to be a princess when I grow up,” Olivia announced. “Or a teacher.”

“I don’t want to be a princess. I want to be a baseball player.” Sophie said with confidence. “Or maybe I’ll be an owner like Auntie Hunter.”

“Or like Daddy.” Olivia had a note of sadness in her voice. “Before he moved to Florida.”

Where the sun sets on the wrong side of the beach.

* * * *

“So how are you feeling?” Dr. De Rosa asked as she took Annabelle’s vitals.

“I want to go home.” She hated feeling trapped, dependent on others. “I just want to sleep in my own bed.”

“You’ve had a serious head injury.” The doctor didn’t need to remind her of that. She felt the dull thud every time she moved her head. “I’m going to ask you a few questions before we can release you.”

“What kind of questions?” Annabelle wasn’t feeling up to taking some kind of test. Especially if her release was dependent on getting the right answers.

The first few questions were straightforward. Her name, age, and occupation. She only stumbled a little on the occupation question. For a long time, she’d been nothing more than a wife and mother.

“I’m a model,” she finally answered. “Or at least, I was.”

She reached up to touch the bandage on her face. “How bad is it? I know it will leave a scar, but…”

It felt like her face was cut from her left temple to her jaw. That’s where it hurt the most. But she might have a smaller cut or two above her eyebrow and across her cheek.

“I won’t lie to you. It’s going to look pretty bad right now. There will be a lot of redness and swelling. You won’t look like yourself for a few days.” The doctor offered a sympathetic smile. “But you’ll improve steadily over the next several weeks.”

Annabelle wanted to see, but had a feeling she wouldn’t like what she saw.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” The doctor pulled up a chair and started unwrapping the gauze around Annabelle’s head. “Not bad. It looks like a clean wound.”

“But it will leave a scar?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“That’s not going to help my modeling career.” Annabelle hated how disappointed she sounded. Almost whiney.

“Tell me about what happened today,” the doctor said as she applied a fresh bandage. This one was smaller, and it didn’t cover her eye. “What do you remember about the accident, and what you did earlier in the day?”

Annabelle recalled snippets of time. Sitting in a chair having her makeup done. Wardrobe changes. Bright lights and the clicks of the camera. A typical day as a model. She’d done her first
Sports Illustrated
issue when she was only nineteen. Had it been ten years already? Somehow today’s shoot had felt new and exciting, like the first time, only better. Her agent had set her up on a photo shoot with a small upscale boutique in Aurelia Beach. The ads would run in a regional magazine, distributed at restaurants, hotels, and businesses throughout Orange County, giving her plenty of exposure. She’d hoped it would be enough to re-launch her career.

She sank back against the pillow, trying to gather more details from the foggy corners of her mind.

“I was on my way to a photo shoot.” It was like that dream. The one where she was running in slow motion, only instead of her feet, it was her brain that felt stuck in quicksand. “No. I was on my way home. I had done my job and I was going to meet the school bus.”

“But you didn’t meet the bus?”

“No. I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye.” And then crunching metal. Broken glass. So much blood. “It must have been the car that hit me.”

Annabelle closed her eyes, hoping the picture would form in her mind. But she was tired. So tired.

“Can I go home?” she asked again, weary of the hospital. Of the questions that seemed much harder than they should be. “I just want to go home.”

“Do you have someone staying with you?” the doctor asked.

“My daughters live with me.” She sensed that wasn’t the right answer, but it was the honest one.

“I’m afraid I can’t release you unless you have a responsible adult who can keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

“I can’t think of anyone who could stay with me.” If she was in San Francisco, she could call Hunter. No, she was still on her honeymoon. They would be coming to Aurelia Beach in a few days on their way home.

“What about the man who is here to pick you up?”

“Cooper? He’s my neighbor.” And she couldn’t just ask him to stay overnight with her. Not when she was such a mess.

“He’ll need to stay with you. Next door isn’t close enough.”

“I couldn’t impose like that.” Especially since she wasn’t sure where they stood. He’d said they were friends, but there was something more between them. Something she couldn’t act on.

“Okay, then we’ll just admit you overnight.”

“No. Wait.” If she didn’t go home, who would watch her girls? If she couldn’t ask Cooper to babysit her, she certainly couldn’t ask him to look after her children. “I’m sure he’ll stay with me. I’ll ask him.”

It was nearly nine o’clock by the time Annabelle had been cleared to go home—on one condition—he would have to stay with her overnight. How many times had he imagined spending the night with Annabelle Jones? But this wasn’t exactly the scenario that had fueled his fantasies.

It was a good thing he’d thought to bring her a change of clothes. Hers were ruined in the accident. Cooper thought he’d been practical in selecting a soft velvety yoga outfit for Annabelle. He figured she’d want to be comfortable. And he hadn’t wanted to spend too much time going through her wardrobe. It was bad enough he’d had to look in her underwear drawer, but since he didn’t possess the ability to teleport her clothing to the hospital for her, he’d had to pack by picking up her things and putting them in a suitcase. He’d thrown the first pair of underwear he found into a small duffel bag along with a tank top, some socks, and the light blue yoga pants with matching jacket.

He’d found a pair of slip-on walking shoes. It was the kind of outfit he’d seen on plenty of women in Target at eleven on a weekday. Casual, comfortable, and just right for running errands and grabbing coffee after their morning workout.

On Annabelle, it was sexy as hell. The soft fabric hugged her every curve. She’d pulled the hood up over her head, probably trying to hide her injury. It only made him want to slowly lift the veil of her hoodie and kiss every single stitch.

Sophie and Olivia were extra careful around her. He’d warned them she might be sore, so they should be gentle. He was surprised at how well they’d followed his suggestion.

“Thank you for coming to pick me up.” She turned away from him, so that the left side of her face was in the shadow of her hoodie. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you. For this and for staying with me.”

“What are neighbors for?” He shrugged, not wanting to think about how she could repay him. When she was recovered from her injuries, of course, he would never take advantage of her in her fragile state.

“Loaning me a couple of eggs, picking up the newspaper when I go out of town for the weekend.” She gave him a half smile. He wasn’t sure if it was because the other side of her face hurt or because she was unsure of herself. “Not picking me up from the hospital, bringing me a change of clothes, and spending the night with me.”

“What can I say? I’m an excellent neighbor.” He flashed his cockiest Nathan Cooper grin. The one he’d used for interviews, pickups, and most famously, his shutdown strut.

Damn. He wasn’t that man anymore. The last interview he’d done had been given with the somber expression of a ballplayer who didn’t know if he’d ever pitch again. He knew pain. He knew scars. And he knew this was the worst time to even think about trying to get Annabelle into his bed.

“I don’t know, you do play your guitar late at night.” She gave him a teasing smile. A moment of connection passed between them. She’d been listening to him when he sat on his porch, picking out tunes, trying to figure out what he was going to do if baseball wasn’t in his future.

“I’ll try to keep it down.”

“I like your music. It’s…comforting.” She lowered her voice, as if she was sharing a secret. “It makes me feel… Like I’m not so alone.”

He didn’t like thinking of her as being lonely. He didn’t want to think of her as anything other than the image of perfection that had graced the covers of a magazine. But here she was, not only human, but very vulnerable. With her bandaged face, blood-matted hair, and need for supervision for the next day or two.

“I’m glad you like my music.” He felt a sense of pride knowing it brought her a small comfort.

Cooper followed as a hospital employee pushed Annabelle’s wheelchair to the exit. The girls walked softly beside her, like twin guards. “I’ll go get the car.”

He returned with his Escalade. After making sure all his passengers were buckled in, he pulled away, feeling as nervous as a first-time father entrusted with a newborn.

Both Sophie and Olivia fell asleep on the way home. He carried each of them up the stairs and dropped them on top of their coordinating bedspreads.

“Thank you,” Annabelle whispered. “I’ll get them undressed and into their pajamas.”

“I’ll run next door and grab a toothbrush. Maybe a change of clothes.”

“You don’t have—”

“Yes. I do need to stay here. Doctor’s orders.” He slipped out and raced over to his place to grab his toothbrush, a clean T-shirt, and a pair of athletic shorts that could double as pajamas. On a whim, he grabbed his guitar—just in case—and hurried back to Annabelle’s.

Cooper let himself in through the back door and felt just a little like he was making himself too much at home. He tiptoed through the kitchen and into the living room. No sign of Annabelle. He debated going upstairs, but wondered if maybe the twins had awakened and were getting into their pajamas.

Upon hearing the shower turn on overhead, Cooper settled himself onto the sofa and flicked on the TV, keeping the volume down low. He could watch basketball without the sound, especially since he really couldn’t care less about the sport. It was just something to do to kill the time while he waited for Annabelle to finish her shower.

Damn. The last thing he needed was to picture her naked, water sluicing off her near-perfect body. Even with the inevitable bumps and bruises she must have sustained in the accident.

A loud thud jolted him out of his fantasy. He shot up from the couch and took the stairs three at a time.

“Annabelle!” His hand was on the doorknob to her bathroom, but it wouldn’t turn. “Annabelle, are you all right?”

“I dropped the shampoo,” she called through the locked door. “Sorry if I startled you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His heart was hammering, not convinced that she should be in there alone. And it had nothing to do with his fantasies.

“Yes. I’m just a little clumsy, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He slumped down on the edge of her bed, adrenaline still shooting through his system.

He sat there, his thighs trembling in fear. What if she slipped? Or fainted? What if she became overcome with the heavy steam and just slid into unconsciousness? A million worst-case scenarios filled his mind. He was just about ready to say to hell with it and break down the door, when he heard the water shut off. The glass door slid open, and he could just make out footsteps as Annabelle must have stepped from the shower.