A glance out the peephole indicated her visitor was her best friend Dionne Burcet. She and Dionne had met when Bristol first arrived in Paris four years ago to attend Académie des Beaux-Arts, which was considered one of the most prestigious and influential art schools in all of France. Dionne also attended the art academy and with so much in common, they’d hit it off immediately.
Dionne, who’d been born in Paris, had introduced Bristol to French culture, and Bristol had taken Dionne home with her to America last Christmas to meet her aunt Dolly and to experience New Year’s Eve in New York. A feeling of sadness fell over Bristol whenever she remembered that was the last holiday she and her aunt had spent together. Her aunt, her only relative, had died a few days later in her sleep.
Bristol opened the door smiling. “Dionne! This is a surprise. I thought you were leaving for—”
“I have something to tell you, Bristol.”
Bristol heard the urgency in Dionne’s voice, which resonated in her eyes as well. “Okay, come on in. Would you like a cup of tea? I was just about to make a pot.”
“Yes, thanks.”
Bristol wondered about Dionne’s strange demeanor as she led her friend to the kitchen, which wasn’t far from the front door. She loved her studio apartment. It was small but just the right size for her. And it held a lot of memories. Her baby was conceived here, in her bed. She would miss this place when she moved back to the States next month after graduation.
“Sit and tell me what’s wrong. Did you and Mark have a fight?”
Dionne shook her head as she sat down at the table. “No. It’s not about me, it’s about you.”
“Me?” Bristol said in surprise.
“Yes. You remember what you shared with me last month?”
“Yes. I told you I was pregnant.” Telling Dionne hadn’t been easy but she’d felt the need to confide in someone. The baby’s father was a man she’d met one day at a café. He had been a US Navy SEAL out with a few of his friends and he’d flirted with her outrageously. She’d done something she had never done before and flirted back. There had been something about Laramie Cooper that had made her behave like a different person and for the next three days, over the Christmas holidays, they had enjoyed a holiday fling. It was a period in her life she would never forget. Her pregnancy made certain of that.
“Yes, from that guy. The American soldier.”
“Not just a soldier, Dionne. Laramie was a Navy SEAL,” Bristol said, smiling proudly.
“Yes, the navy SEAL Laramie Cooper,” Dionne said.
From the time they’d been introduced, Bristol had liked his name and he’d said he liked hers. Laramie had told her very little about his work or even about himself. She knew he was an only child and his parents were still living in the US. He hadn’t said where.
Bristol regretted that Dionne had been away visiting her grandparents in Marseille for the holidays and hadn’t been around to meet Laramie. She believed her friend would have liked him. “What about him?”
“You told me how the two of you spent time together over the holidays and since finding out you were pregnant, you’ve been trying to locate him to let him know.”
Since she’d known very little about Laramie, other than his name and age, she had mailed a letter to him in care of the US Navy. The letter had been returned weeks ago stamped UNABLE TO LOCATE.
“Yes, and like I told you, it doesn’t matter to me that our time together was a no-strings affair, I believe he has a right to know about his child. I refused to do to him what my mother did to my father.”
For years, Bristol never knew her father and, according to her mother, she never told her father about Bristol. It was information her mother had taken with her to the grave. It was only after her mother’s death that Bristol’s aunt Dolly had given her the man’s name. She had met Randall Lockett at sixteen. He had been surprised to find out about her and had welcomed her into his life.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I decided to help you.”
Bristol raised a brow. “Help me?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Remember I told you about that guy—an American—I dated years ago? The one who worked at your embassy?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, he was recently reassigned back to the embassy here and I ran into him. I gave him your SEAL’s name and asked if he would try locating him and forwarding him a message to contact you.”
Happiness eased into Bristol and spread to all parts of her body. Although it might have been nothing more than a holiday fling for Laramie Cooper, it had been a lot more for her. She had fallen in love with him. “Was your friend able to find him?”
Dionne slowly nodded her head. “Yes.”
Bristol stared at her friend, knowing there was more. The happiness she felt earlier began dissipating at the sadness she saw in Dionne’s eyes. “What is it, Dionne? What did you find out?”
All sorts of things began rushing through her mind. What if Laramie hadn’t been the single man he’d claimed to be and had a wife and children somewhere? When Dionne didn’t say anything, but looked down at the cup of tea Bristol had placed in front of her, Bristol slouched her shoulders in disappointment. “I think I know why you’re hesitating in telling me.”
Dionne looked back at her. “Do you?”
“Yes. He’s married. Although he told me he wasn’t, you found out differently, didn’t you?”
“Bristol.”
“It doesn’t matter. He has a right to know about his child anyway. If he decides never to be a part of my baby’s life, it will be his decision and—.”
“That’s not it, Bristol,” Dionne cut in to say.
Bristol frowned. “Then what is it?”
Dionne took a sip of her tea, hesitating. The dawdling was driving Bristol crazy. “For Pete’s sake, Dionne, will you just get it out and tell me what you found out about Laramie?”
Dionne held her gaze and drew in a deep breath. “Some mission he was on went bad and he was killed. He’s dead, Bristol.”
* * * * *
The Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, San Diego, California, three years later
“Let me get this straight, Lieutenant Cooper. You actually want to give up your holiday leave and remain here and work on base?”
Laramie “Coop” Cooper forced his smile to stay in place while answering his commanding officer’s question. “Yes, sir. I actually want to do that.”
He wouldn’t tell anyone that he’d looked forward to going home for the holidays, because honestly, he hadn’t. The phone call he’d gotten from his parents that they would be jet-setting to London again this year was expected. They’d done so every holiday for as long as he could remember. He doubted they’d even canceled those plans that Christmas three years ago when they’d thought him dead.
At thirty-two, he had stopped letting his parents’ actions affect him. As far as Ryan and Cassandra Cooper were concerned, the universe revolved around them and nobody else. Especially not a son who, at times, they seemed to forget existed. It wasn’t that he thought his parents didn’t love him; he knew they did. They just loved each other more. He had long ago accepted that his parents believed there were different degrees of love, and that the love they shared for each other outweighed the love for their child.
In a way, he should be glad that after thirty-five years of marriage his parents were still that into each other. They shared something special, had this unbreakable bond, and some would even say, it was the love of a lifetime. But on the other hand, that love never extended to him in the same degree. He knew their lack of affection had nothing to do with him deciding to become a navy SEAL instead of joining his parents’ multi-million-dollar manufacturing company. His father had understood Laramie’s desire to make his decisions based on what he wanted to do with his life and he appreciated his dad for accepting that.
More holidays than not, for as far back as Laramie could remember, he’d been packed
up and shipped off to his paternal grandparents’ ranch in Laredo. Not that he was complaining. His grandparents had been the best and hadn’t hesitated to show him the degree of love he’d lacked at home. In fact, he would admit to resenting his parents when they did show up at his grandparents’ ranch to get him.
So, here he was volunteering to give up his holiday leave. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t received invitations from his SEAL teammates to join them and their families for the holidays, because he had. Bane Westmoreland—code name Bane—had been the first to invite Laramie to spend the holidays with his family in Denver. But given the fact that Bane’s wife Crystal had given birth to triplets six months ago, Laramie didn’t want to get underfoot.
Same thing with Thurston McRoy—code name Mac—with his wife Teri and their four kids. Gavin Blake—code name Viper—would be celebrating his first Christmas as a married man so Laramie didn’t want to intrude there either. The only other single guy in the group was David Holloway—code name Flipper. Flipper came from a huge family of four brothers, who were all SEALs, and a father who’d retired as a SEAL commanding officer. Laramie had spent the holidays with Flipper’s family last year and didn’t want to wear out his welcome.
“I’m denying your request, Lieutenant.”
His commanding officer’s words recaptured Laramie’s attention. He met the man’s gaze and tried to keep a frown off of his face. “May I ask why, sir?”
“I think you know the reason. SEAL Team Six, of which you are a vital member, has been pretty damn busy this year. I don’t have to list all the covert operations successfully accomplished with very few casualties. You deserve your holiday leave.”
“Even if I don’t want to take it?”
His commanding officer held his gaze. “Yes, even if you don’t want to take it. Military leave is necessary, especially for a SEAL, to recoup both mentally and physically. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself. It’s like you’re trying to make up for the time you were a captive in Syria.”
Laramie remembered all eleven months of being held prisoner in that guerilla hellhole. He hadn’t known from one day to the next if he’d survive that day. The bastards had done everything in their power to make him think every day would be his last. They’d even played Russian Roulette with him a couple of times.
It was on one of those particular days when he’d been rescued. Leave it to Bane, who was a master sniper, to bring down the four men from a distance of over a hundred feet. Laramie was convinced there was no way he would have survived if his SEAL team hadn’t shown up.
During those eleven months he’d fought hard to stay sane and the one memory that had sustained him was the face of the woman he’d met in Paris just weeks before the mission.
Bristol Lockett.
It had been a three-day holiday affair. Sadly, there was little he knew about her other than sharing her bed had been the best sexual experience of his life.
“However, since I know you’re going to insist,” his commanding officer said, reclaiming Laramie’s thoughts again. “I’ve got an important job that I want you to do. However, it means traveling to New York.”
Laramie raised a brow. “New York?”
“Yes. An important delivery needs to be made to a member of the United Nations Security Council.”
Laramie wondered what kind of delivery. Classified documents no doubt.
He’d heard how beautiful Manhattan was when it was decorated for this time of year. He’d been to the Big Apple a number of times, but never around the holidays. “Once I make the delivery, sir. Then what?”
“That, Lieutenant, is up to you. If you decide to take your holiday leave, then you won’t have to report back here until the end of January as scheduled. However, if you still want to give up your leave, then you’re free to come back here and I’ll find more work for you to do.”
Laramie nodded. He might take a week off to enjoy the sights and sounds of New York, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would be returning to San Diego for more work.
* * * * *
Laramie’s plans to leave New York after a week
are about to change! Because Bristol is there…and so is their son!
Don’t miss what happens next in New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson’s
HIS SECRET SON
available December 2017 wherever
Harlequin® Desire books and ebooks are sold.
www.Harlequin.com
Copyright © 2017 by Brenda Streater Jackson
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A Very Merry Romance (Madaris Series Book 21) Page 28