Mistletoe Bay (19 page)

Coop closed his eyes and brought the soap up to his nose. “It's a flower.” Coop sounded disappointed. “I was hoping for food.”

“Men usually are.” She shook her head. “But it's the woman who has to bathe with it, Coop, not a man.”

“True.” He sniffed again. And again. And again.

She knew he wouldn't get it. If it wasn't a rose, most men wouldn't be able to name the flower. “Give up yet? I want the wall painted a nice sage green. Something that will hide the boys handprints.”

Coop frowned at her, then closed his eyes and took a big whiff.

She understood the closing of the eyes when smelling. She did it all the time. It allowed her to concentrate on the smell, and not what she was actually seeing.

Coop replaced the bar of soap and walked back to her. She couldn't tell from his face if he actually knew the scent or was willing to admit defeat. Money would be on him at least trying a guess. What did he have to lose, besides scraping forty-year-old wallpaper off a wall?

“So?” She wasn't known for her patience, unless it came to the boys. With children she'd learned that patience was more than an option, it was required.

“That anxious to go tobogganing?” He stopped directly in front of her.

“No, just wondering if I should go out and pick up the paint this weekend. Heard Sullivan's hardware store is having a great sale.”

Coop moved closer. “That confident, are you?”

Her back was against the rack and he was nearly touching her. It was an interesting turn of events, one she had been hoping for since leaving the house. “Do you want to do the trim work, or use the roller?”

“Roller.” Coop lowered his head and kissed her.

Chapter Ten

Jenni slowly leaned in to the kiss, but there wasn't anything hesitant about the way she melted. Coop kissed like he meant it.

Desire slammed into her stomach as her arms encircled Coop's neck. She could feel the heat of his mouth and the taste of his need. It matched her own. It had been so long since she had been held and desired as a woman. She just wanted to sink into Coop and never resurface. She stretched up on her toes, bringing herself closer to his pounding heart. To his heat.

Coop's fingers trembled as they cupped her bottom and brought her closer to his growing arousal. Her breath caught in her throat as the full extent of his desire became quite evident against the apex of her thighs.

Coop groaned as his tongue swept into her mouth and seductively teased hers into submission. Her fingers sank into his thick, soft hair and pulled him closer. She wanted Cooper Armstrong, and she wanted him now. The emptiness that had been residing inside her for so long screamed to be filled.

The slamming of the door downstairs jolted them out of their haze. They jumped apart like two young lovers whose parents had gotten home early.

“Mom!” shouted Chase.

“Mr. Brown!” shouted Corey.

“Hey, where are you?” Tucker shouted loud enough to shatter an eardrum or two.

Coop slowly lowered his empty arms and stared at her. His breathing was harsh and rapid, and his brown eyes were nearly black with desire.

She was torn between crying or giggling. She was too old to be caught in a compromising position by her sons. It was a good thing they had intruded when they did, because the way that kiss had been going, there was no telling where it would have ended.

She knew exactly where that kiss had been leading, but there was no way she was going to admit it. She knew how to say no, but with Coop she didn't want to. That admission scared her more than anything he could have done.

“We're up here, boys,” she called since Coop appeared as tongue-tied as she felt. “Stay where you are . . . don't move.” The boys knew they weren't allowed in the shop. There was just too much to break, ruin, or get hurt by.

“Can I shut the door?” Chase asked.

“Please do I can't afford to heat Maine.” She rolled her eyes and smiled at Coop. “We'll be right down.”

“What'ya doing?” called Tucker.

Coop grinned. “Your mother was giving me a tour of the place and we were playing a game.”

She raised a brow.

“What kind of game?” called Tucker.

She could tell by her son's voice that he had moved a couple more feet into the shop, and that worried her, but not as much as Coop's answer. He wouldn't dare.

Coop's smile grew. “I had to guess what scent the soaps are, just by smelling.”

“Yuck.” Corey sounded like he was holding his nose shut. “They all smell yucky.”

“Don't worry, Corey, he lost the game.” She headed for the stairs. “Coop now has to help me remove that wallpaper in the stairwell and paint the walls.” She grinned over her shoulder before hurrying down the wooden stairs. “What brings you boys out here?”

“Mr. Brown's dad sent us,” Corey said. Her youngest son was peering into a case of hand wash. Corey didn't look impressed.

“He said to tell Coop that his team lost and that you owe him ten bucks.” Chase was over by the work table with both hands behind his back, examining the area.

Tucker ran halfway up the stairs to meet Coop, who was coming down. “I'm supposed to tell you that everyone is waiting on you and my mom.” Tucker looked like he wanted to get into something. Anything.

“I guess we have to be going, Jenni.” Coop walked over to his coat and put it on. “You have a very nice shop.” Coop's eyes were dancing with secrets.

“Mr. Brown?”

“Yes, Corey?”

“I'm supposed to tell you that your dad wants pie. Pumpkin pie.”

Coop laughed with her son. “Did he now.” Coop ruffled Corey's red hair. “Then I guess we'd better get moving. He can get cranky if not fed.”

“You guys go ahead. I have to get some samples.” She found an unsealed box of Bayberry soap and picked up a couple bars. She started looking for the body cream to go along with it for Lucy. “Tell your grandmother to start serving her pie. I'll be right there.” Somewhere in the mountain of boxes were opened cases of Snowflake for Faith and Naughty and Nice for Hope. The girls deserved a little something for having ten years scared off their lives by Fred the iguana licking their legs.

“We'll wait, won't we guys?” Coop looked at her sons. “A gentleman always waits for a lady.”

Tucker looked ready to argue.

“Of course, if you want to, you can head back to the house without us.” Coop stared at Tucker.

“Naw, I'll wait.” Tucker stepped farther into the shop. “Can I go see the back room?”

“No, you know that room is strictly off-limits, especially after the last time you visited.” She glared at her son. “Right?”

Tucker scuffed the toe of his untied boot against the wooden floor. “Right.” He sighed.

“Do I want to know what happened last time?” Coop looked intrigued.

“No, Doc Sydney says thinking about it just causes undue stress.” She found the Bayberry body cream and added two jars to her growing pile.

Tucker plopped his butt onto the last step. “I said I was sorry.”

“Mom, can I go back? Sam's waiting for me.” Chase had his hand on the doorknob and was ready to bolt.

“Sure, just be careful not to trip in the dark.” There was a low-wattage light outside the shop door, and one could see the lights from the back family room, but the path through the overgrown brush wasn't lit. “Take Corey with you.”

“I want to wait for Mr. Brown.” Corey was glued to Coop's side.

“Okay, Chase you can go, but be careful.”

Chase shot through the door like an arrow. She gathered up a couple of the cranberry hand wash and three jars of the brown sugar body polish before finding the Snowflake case of soap. She added it all to the pile.

“Can I help you with something?” Coop was eyeing the growing mountain of jars and soap.

“Grab me three of those smaller boxes over there.” She pointed to the right. “Thanks.”

She finished grabbing what she needed and carried it all over to the table. “This should do them nicely.” She started to divide up the goodies. “Tucker, why don't you carry this box back and give it to Faith with an apology for scaring her like that.” She handed her son a box.

Tucker took the box. “It wasn't my fault she didn't like Fred.”

“I told you that Fred is one of those pets that are an acquired taste. He's like brussels sprouts; not everyone is going to like him.” She pulled on her jacket but didn't bother to zip it. The last thing she needed was her winter coat. Coop had started her furnace just fine. She went to pick up the other two boxes, but Coop beat her to it.

Tucker dashed out the door with Corey right on his heels. “Slow down, Tucker. That box has glass jars in it.” She could hear them banging against each other as her son ran. If he made it to the house with one thing in that box intact, it would be a miracle. She had only herself to blame if she had to make another trip out to the shop tonight. She knew better than to give Tucker glass.

“Did you just compare Fred to a vegetable?”

“I had to think of something Tucker could relate to, and he relates to brussels sprouts. The boy hates them.” She glanced around the shop one last time before turning off the lights and locking the door behind them.

They were halfway down the path when she heard the sliding door to the family room slam shut behind the boys. “One of these days they are going to pull that door right off its tracks.” She said the first thing to pop into her mind to cover up the awkwardness she was feeling at being alone with Coop. What was she supposed to say to a man who had just kissed her senseless?

“You won't get an argument out of me on that one.” Coop was quiet for a moment before asking, “What are you doing Saturday night?”

Her feet halted on the dirt path. “Saturday night?” Her mind drew a blank. Saturday night was just like any other night, except the boys got to stay up half an hour longer because it wasn't a school night. After the boys were tucked into their beds she usually went into the office and did paperwork. “Why?” Why would Coop care if she was printing out shipping labels or ordering in more supplies?

If she wasn't mistaken, Coop rolled his eyes. In the shadowy darkness it was hard to tell. “I thought if you weren't busy we could go out to dinner or something. Maybe see a movie in Franklin.”

“As in a date?” She couldn't believe it—Coop was asking her out. She hadn't been asked out on a date since college, and her last date had been with Ken.

That invitation from the comb-overed character named Wendell, or something like that, the first week she moved to town didn't count. The man was a complete idiot. Five minutes after she had turned him down, he had been hitting on Dorothy. Whatever Dorothy had said to him had made him go pale, and neither one of them had been bugged by the president of the chamber of commerce since.

Would she even remember what to do on a date?

“Yes, Jenni, as in a date.” Coop sounded unsure of himself. “I never asked a woman out that has kids. Do you need more time to find a babysitter or something?”

“Coop, that's not what threw me. I can find a babysitter.” She had no idea what Dorothy would say to her dating again. It had been two years since Ken had passed away; surely Dorothy knew that one day she would start dating again. “It's just that I haven't been on a date since college.”

“You haven't dated since you lost your husband?” Coop sounded amazed, if not in downright shock. “It's been—what—two years?”

“Over two, but yes.” What did it really matter how long it had been? The question was, how was she going to tell the boys she was going out without them?

“Yes, what? Yes, you'll go to dinner with me, or yes, you haven't dated in over two years.”

“Yes to both.”

Coop smiled. “Really?”

“Really.” Her smile matched his. She wasn't naive enough to think anything would come of a simple dinner date and heated kisses. She wasn't looking for a future with Coop, or any other man. She had three boys to raise and a business that was just starting to take off. But she was human, and, as Coop's nuclear kisses had just demonstrated, a woman. She wanted as many of those kisses he was willing to share before he came to his senses.

 

 

Dorothy knew Cooper Armstrong would be trouble from the first day he and Jenni had met. The man couldn't keep his eyes off her daughter-in-law and he always was around when the boys were causing trouble. Boys would be boys, and men would be men.

Jenni was going out with Coop tonight on a date. A real date, and she had only herself to blame for this turn of events. After all, she had been the one to invite Coop and his parents for Thanksgiving dinner. She had been so thankful when Coop had found Corey safe and sound that she would have knitted him a stocking and invited him to spend Christmas with them—if she knew how to knit.

Now Coop had taken the holiday meal as an open invitation to date Jenni. She didn't know what exactly had happened out in the shop the other night, but she could guess. She wasn't born yesterday.

She could hear Jenni arguing with the boys in her bedroom while she got ready. The boys didn't understand why they couldn't go along for dinner. Tucker had even promised to behave himself. Dorothy had heard the uncertainty in Jenni's voice, but her daughter-in-law had held firm. That alone told her how much Jenni wanted to go on this date. Jenni wasn't known to be a tower of strength when the boys ganged up on her like that. They usually got what they wanted.

To top that one off, Jenni hadn't even bothered to ask her to babysit. Jenni was not only going to pay Felicity and Sam to watch the boys, but she also was giving Sam money to run into Sullivan to pick up pizza for everyone. In other words, Jenni didn't need her.

“Mom?” Felicity walked into her bedroom unannounced.

“Yes?” She continued to put away the laundry in her dresser. She had spent the morning in town food shopping, and the afternoon in the basement catching up on her and Felicity's laundry.

“Have you seen my new jeans?” Felicity pulled open the closet door and started to search through the slacks hanging there.

“In the last four months I've bought you at least five new pairs of jeans. Which pair?” Like she would be able to tell the difference. Denim was denim and her daughter probably had over a dozen pairs of jeans thrown around her room upstairs in the attic. “They aren't in there. That much I do know.”

“How do you know?” Felicity pushed aside a bunch of blouses and continued to search.

“Because I only own three pairs of jeans, unlike some people in this room. I'm wearing one pair, and the other two pairs are hanging right there in front of your nose.” She cringed as her daughter shoved aside three silk blouses she had picked up from the cleaners just yesterday. “Be careful, Felicity. I prefer my blouses without wrinkles.” Her daughter was constantly losing and misplacing things.

“Are you sure you did all the laundry today?” Felicity closed the closet door and frowned at the neatly folded basket of towels.

“Would you care to rephrase that question?” She closed the last drawer with a little bit more force than necessary. “You're seventeen, Felicity. You're old enough to start doing your own laundry if you don't like the way I do it.”