The Rebel (The Millionaire Malones Book 3)

by Victoria Purman

  Vance was true to his word about not wanting to be tied down and had never bothered to come to California to meet his son. But Cooper, the tall handsome Cooper, had dropped in the summer after Evan was born. He’d been in San Clemente to prepare for a surf competition and had turned up on Maggie’s doorstep with a stuffed koala for Evan and a bottle of Australian wine for her.

  Their friendship had grown in the years since. As his surfing career had exploded, he’d travelled more and more and had made a point of sending postcards to Evan from wherever he was in the world. The colourful collection now filled the wall above the desk by Evan’s bed. Kangaroos and bears and lions and elephants; he’d found cheesy animal cards from around the globe to delight his young friend. Maggie had followed Cooper’s career online and in the sports news, and whenever he was on a break from competitions, he would fly in and crash at his San Clemente house, instead of going home to Sydney, and simply hang out with Maggie and Evan.

  Their friendship had grown strong and solid over the years and Maggie had decided it was the perfect arrangement. Friends was so much easier than lovers, and she wasn’t that gypsy she’d once been. She couldn’t fly off to exotic locations on a whim, and she certainly couldn’t sleep with a man simply because he was tall and tanned and charming. That wasn’t her life anymore.

  All of that history meant she could get angry at him and he would understand. Friends could do that with friends. Cooper shouldn’t expect anything less.

  Because she was going to get angry at him. Cooper Malone was going to feel the full-on wrath of Maggie MacLean.

  And it was going to be ugly.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Cooper gingerly dropped his legs over the side of the bed and checked out each of the four walls in the vain hope they’d miraculously become more interesting since the last time he looked. Nope, they hadn’t. He was feeling stir-crazy. Some interior designer had obviously figured pale green would be calming to patients, but it reminded Cooper of toothpaste. The drapes on the windows were the same shade as the walls and the view was of the car park. Hanging on the wall opposite the bed was an anonymous watercolour painting of a dense forest with snow-capped mountains in the background; he’d spent two mind-numbing days wondering if it was Montana, Colorado, Switzerland or Canada. Why hang a picture like that in a hospital in Southern California? It baffled him. The wall-mounted TV in the corner hadn’t had enough sports for his liking, so he’d barely turned it on. On a whitewashed sideboard to his right sat a huge bunch of flowers sent by his twin brother Callum and Ava, Cal’s fiancée.

  Cal’s message on the card read:

  What next—a Zimmer frame? Get well fast, bro.

  Cooper needed the laugh. Hell, he needed more than that. He needed to get out of here. Why wasn’t anything in this damn room blue? This was San Clemente, the Spanish village by the sea, for God’s sake. It had the Pacific Ocean. Great waves. The pier. The sun, which was so much like the climate back home in Australia that sometimes the only things that reminded him he wasn’t in Sydney were the lanky palm trees and the white stucco buildings with the terracotta tiled roofs. But this room, with its forests and green, could be any hospital room anywhere in the world. He knew: he’d seen more than a couple.

  And he couldn’t wait to get out of it. From his house, he could see the water and blue as far as the eye could see. He could spot when the surf was up. That’s where he wanted to be right now, instead of perched on the side of his bed wondering if his knee would hold up if he put any weight on it.

  Dr Alvarez stood by him, her hands on her hips. ‘Want me to help you?’

  Cooper shook his head. ‘I’ve been standing on these legs since I was twelve months old, I’ll have you know Doc. So that makes it a thirty-three years they’ve been doing their job.’

  She tut-tutted. ‘And how many years of surfing in all that?’

  Cooper looked up at the Doc through the flop of his blond hair. ‘Twenty-two.’

  She tut-tutted again and he knew what was coming but he didn’t want to hear it. ‘You’ve had a long time to do a lot of damage, Cooper. It’s catching up with you. You’re not a young man anymore.’

  Cooper huffed. ‘You sure know how to kick a bloke when he’s down.’

  She rested a reassuring hand on her patient’s shoulder. ‘Cooper. I’ve been a doctor for as long as you’ve been a surfer. We all get old. Unfortunately for you, that left knee of yours is slightly older than the rest of you, after years of overuse and twisting and grinding.’

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘What do you know about surfing?’

  ‘You can’t live in San Clemente and not know about surfing.’ Dr Alvarez shrugged and gave him a smile. ‘I used to surf before I lost my nerve.’

  ‘Oh Doc, you’ve gotta get back out there.’

  ‘Not anymore.’ She reached out her hand to him. ‘You want me to pull you up?’

  Cooper shook his head. ‘I can do this.’ Gingerly, he put all his weight on his right leg and slowly lowered his left to the floor. A hot rush hit him from head to toe and throbbed everywhere in between. ‘Holy fuck,’ he exclaimed and dropped his butt back on the bed. He wiped the sweat from his top lip with his forearm. ‘Sorry about the cursing, Doc.’

  ‘I’ve heard worse, believe me. I know it hurts but it’s really important you get up on that knee. We don’t do lying around in bed anymore.’

  He hissed a breath through his teeth. ‘That’s a pity. Most women want me horizontal, not vertical.’

  The Doc rolled her eyes. ‘Save all that flirting for the pretty brunette.’

  ‘What pretty brunette?’ He tried again, planting his hands on the bed, one near each thigh, and pressing down into the mattress. He stood, wobbly, warily, painfully.

  ‘Your visitor yesterday. The short one.’

  He smiled through gritted teeth. ‘You mean Maggie? She’s a friend.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve got one. You’re going to need some help during the next few weeks.’

  Ask Maggie for help? That wasn’t going to happen. She had a million balls in the air without adding him to the mix. Being a single mom to Evan, combined with her job, meant she looked exhausted most of the time, even if she always put on a brave face. He never had any hesitation in telling her she looked exhausted because mates could say that kind of thing to each other. What did Maggie always say? ‘No bullshit and no excuses.’ That was them.

  ‘How’s that pain?’ Dr Alvarez crouched down to look at his knee. She’d taken off the bandages earlier and was checking his wounds from the keyhole surgery.

  He took a big breath as he steadied himself, gripping the rail at the end of the bed just in case his leg gave way under him. It felt like it was about to. ‘Doc, I’ve been chased by sharks. Sideswiped by dolphins. Almost had a heel cut off by a fin that was sharp as a tin lid. I’ve had scrapes from coral and been hit by more flying boards than I can count. But this?’ He pointed in the general direction of his left knee. ‘This hurts like a son of a bitch. Did you put some ground glass in there while you were poking around?’

  ‘Cooper. You’ve torn your anterior cruciate ligament and you have a grade two medial strain. It’s going to hurt some. Maybe you should stay another night and we’ll get you something for that pain.’

  ‘No. I want to go home. Give me a minute.’ That ground glass in his knee felt like a broken bottle but he pushed through it.

  Dr Alvarez stood up. ‘I’ve done what I can with the surgery, Cooper. Now it’s over to you and your physical therapy, which I just know you are going to love. But I’ve got to warn you. You will need time for rehab and you will need to take it very seriously this time. I mean it.’

  Cooper raised a hand. ‘I remember.’ He remembered every word she’d said to him the last time: I don’t know how much longer that knee will hold up if you keep surfing. It’s worn out. He hadn’t wanted to hear it before the surgery and he damn well didn’t want to hear it now.

  Because
surfing wasn’t just a weekend hobby.

  It was his passion and his life. It was what had got him through his teenage years after his mother died and his father had checked out of his life. It had become his career and he was hoping it would still be his future.

  He couldn’t think about what his life would be without it.

  ‘Hey, Cooper. I see you’re up.’ Maggie strolled into his room with a smile that lit up her face. Was she a sight for sore eyes? Her brown hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and her denim shorts, Converse sneakers and rock band T-shirt made her look somewhere in her twenties, instead of two months older than him. She sure hadn’t looked like an accountant when he’d first met her in that dim Bali bar all those years ago, when Vance had pounced on her like a seagull onto a hot chip, and she still didn’t.

  ‘Maggie Mac, meet the Doc.’

  ‘Hello,’ Maggie reached out a hand. ‘I’m Maggie MacLean.’

  ‘Dr Alvarez.’ The two women exchanged glances like they were both in on some conspiracy. It made Cooper suspicious.

  ‘We actually met yesterday.’ Maggie told Cooper. ‘When you were talking in your sleep. In fact, you were making more sense than you normally do when you’re wide awake.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ Dr Alvarez said as she turned to go. ‘I’ll see you in one week, Cooper.’ She waggled a finger at him. ‘And do your rehab.’

  ‘Yeah yeah.’ Cooper lowered himself back on the bed. It was a slow, painful process. He hated how useless he felt. ‘Aren’t you hilarious this afternoon, Maggie Mac? You here to take me home or what?’

  ‘You ready? Do you have everything?’

  ‘Now you’re here I’ve got exactly what I need. A ride home. Let’s go.’

  *

  Cooper had barely made it up the front path to the door of his house, one steadying arm around Maggie’s shoulders, when he heard the familiar cry.

  ‘Cooper Cooper Cooper!’ There was running on the path behind him and then a tug on his T-shirt.

  ‘Evan,’ Maggie cautioned as she laid a hand on her son’s arm and urged him back. ‘Watch out for Cooper’s sore leg, okay sweetie?’

  A pair of skinny little arms gripped on to his thigh and he held his breath. Man, he was glad to see Evan, even if he was flinching in pain from the leg hug. ‘Hey, mate. What’s up?’

  Evan’s eyes widened. ‘Does your leg hurt?’

  Cooper winced and it wasn’t for effect. ‘Yep. A whole hell of a lot.’

  Evan giggled and looked all the way up to Cooper’s face. ‘You’re not supposed to say hell. It’s a swear.’

  ‘Oh, shit.’

  Maggie glared at him in warning.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell. Give a man a break here. This knee hurts like a …’ Cooper wisely stopped.

  ‘A lot,’ Maggie said.

  ‘Yeah, it hurts a lot.’

  ‘Was there blood, Cooper? Was there?’

  ‘Hello Cooper.’ Maggie’s mom, Serena, appeared next to him, her arms crossed over her chest.

  ‘Hi Serena,’ Cooper said through gritted teeth. He wasn’t sure if it was the pain or Maggie’s mom making him tense. It was probably lineball. He’d always got the feeling that she was annoyed at him, and for the life of him he’d never been able to figure out why.

  ‘Thanks for bringing Evan here, Mom,’ Maggie said.

  Cooper had often thought how physically similar the two women were. Short asses, both of them. Maggie’s brown hair was long and wavy, hanging half way down her back, which suited her rock chick look. Maggie had once told him that her mom had had the same colouring before she’d turned salt-and-pepper grey. Both women had pert noses and wide mouths, eyes the colour of milk chocolate, and lips that could tighten almost instantaneously into a thin line of disdain when they were pissed off at something.

  He looked from Serena to Maggie. Yeah, they were doing it right now.

  ‘It’s no trouble,’ Serena said. ‘He’s been talking of nothing else since the minute he saw me at the school gate. It’s been ‘Cooper Cooper Cooper’ for the past hour.’ Serena straightened her shoulders, aimed her thin lips in his direction and asked, ‘How’s that knee, young man?’

  Even the sight of a wounded warrior hadn’t warmed Maggie’s mom’s heart. She may have been retired from the classroom but she could silence him with a stare. The exact one she was shooting at him right now.

  ‘The knee? She’ll be right as rain in a jiffy.’

  Serena shook her head and turned to Maggie. ‘He’s talking Australian, again.’

  He was used to this tag team of women ganging up on him and, to tell the truth, he kind of liked it. His mother had died a long time ago, twenty years before to be exact, when he was just another fourteen-year-old surfer coming up through the junior ranks. And he’d never had a relationship long enough for him to put up with any chiding about what he did and the way he did it. He liked the reminder of family, of teasing familiarity.

  Maggie had pried Evan off his leg and was holding his hand firmly in hers. ‘Cooper, are you teasing my mom?’

  ‘Of course,’ he smirked.

  ‘You staying for a coffee, Mom? I’m sure Cooper can fire up his fancy machine.’

  ‘That’s the exact reason I wanted to come home. That damn hospital coffee. It could kill a man.’

  That made Serena laugh but she tried not to show it. Cooper knew he’d have to work on her some more.

  ‘Not me,’ she waved. ‘I’ll be off.’ She paused for a moment and then took a step towards Cooper. ‘Look after yourself and listen to what my daughter says.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Cooper muttered.

  ‘Thanks again, Mom,’ Maggie said as she waved goodbye. ‘I’ll call you later.’

  ‘Bye, sweetheart.’ Serena stooped to give Evan a warm hug.

  ‘Bye, Grandma. I’m here to look after Cooper, too.’

  ‘That’s a good boy,’ Serena said with a smile at her daughter before getting into her car and driving off.

  And then there was just the three of them, as there had been so often in the past few years. Cooper felt something like relief wash over him: he was happy to be out of hospital and he was glad of this familiarity. Maggie and Evan at his place. Evan talking a mile a minute and Maggie and her quiet and undemanding friendship. He needed a bolthole to recover and start his rehab and home was definitely the best place to do it.

  Together, they hobbled slowly up the path to the front porch and went inside. Maggie dropped his overnight bag just inside the door and then turned to close it behind them.

  Cooper looked down at Evan. The little man’s ocean blue eyes were concentrating hard. There were a hundred things Cooper was regretting about his injury, maybe even more than that, but at that moment he realised it would be a while before he could grab Evan under the armpits and flip him up high and around and sit his little mate on his shoulders. It was something they always did when he was back. Whether they were walking along the beach or getting an ice-cream down at the pier, Evan was up on his shoulders like a little monkey. Like a father–son thing. Evan’s real father, his mate Vance—his former mate now—had chosen not to be a part of any of that. Once, in their early days on the pro tour, Cooper and Vance had been as tight as brothers. They’d roomed together all over the world, been each other’s wingmen at bars, and had looked out for each other in and out of the water. But when Maggie had told Vance she was pregnant, he’d changed. Vance had told him the news over a beer in a surf bar in Johannesburg in South Africa, as matter-of-factly as if he was telling him about tomorrow’s weather.

  ‘So, what are you gonna do about it? The kid? Maggie?’

  Vance had shrugged and sipped his beer. ‘I can’t be a father. I’ll send her some money or something.’

  Cooper’s heartbeat had thrummed in his chest and in his ears. ‘You are fucking kidding me.’

  ‘That’s not me, man. Look at me. I’m about to break out on the tour. Things are just starting to get good. I can’t be weighed
down by a kid and a woman.’

  Cooper remembered his reaction as if it were yesterday. He’d slid off the barstool, planted his feet, clenched his fingers into a fist and punched his best friend in the jaw. Vance had gone sprawling on to the sticky bar floor and Cooper had walked over him and out of his life. He hadn’t spoken to the bastard since.

  ‘Cooper?’ He reached down and tousled Evan’s hair, swallowing the strange feeling in his throat. He tried not to, but he could see Vance in Evan’s face. Life’s cruel joke. He was so like the man who’d never wanted him.

  He smiled down at the young boy. Evan couldn’t help who his father was, and Cooper tried not to see anyone but an eager kid with wide eyes. ‘What’s up, mate?’

  Evan thought for a moment. ‘Mommy says you are stuck on.’

  ‘What do you mean, “stuck on”?’ Cooper asked.

  He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him. ‘Evan—’

  ‘Yesterday, you said it, Mommy. You said Cooper was stuck on and wouldn’t listen. And I told Mommy that was wrong because you always listen to me. Oh, I forgot.’ Evan dug his fingers into one of the front pockets of his jeans. ‘I got some bandaids. Right here!’

  ‘Are they Batman bandaids, mate?’

  ‘Uh huh.’ Evan nodded and looked proudly into his hand.

  Cooper held a palm out flat and Evan slapped it. ‘What do you reckon? Can you be my personal doctor while my knee gets better?’

  ‘No way! I don’t wanna be a doctor. I’m gonna be a surfer just like you!’ Evan pushed past Cooper and barrelled into the living room, his voice bouncing off the tiled floor.

  ‘Oh, no he’s not,’ Maggie muttered under her breath but still loud enough that Cooper heard every word. He stepped towards the door, gripping the frame around it, trying not to let the pain show in his face. ‘You got something against surfers, Maggie Mac?’

  She crossed her arms. ‘Only stubborn ones who take stupid risks and ignore their doctor’s advice. Last I heard you were supposed to stay off that knee.’

  Cooper stepped gingerly inside. His awkward gait meant he stopped a little closer to Maggie than he thought. His thigh grazed hers and he was worried if he tried to take a step backward it would hurt so he didn’t. ‘Last I heard you weren’t my wife.’