Great. Even in a military hospital, still panting from the pain of a tough workout, he couldn’t get away from the woman. And, as he smiled through his final stretches, he didn’t know if he wanted to.
* * *
“You do know you’re wearing a minidress and high heels to a Little League game, right?” Maxine watched Kylie expertly navigate the aluminum bleacher stand while Mia followed close behind.
“Listen,” Kylie said as she plopped down on the seat in front of Maxine and Cessy. “I’m a redhead with the skin complexion that goes along with it. I don’t look good in yellow, so it’s not a main staple of my wardrobe. This was the closest thing I had to the team colors on such short notice.”
While dropping off Hunter’s baseball paperwork yesterday, Maxine had picked up a yellow T-shirt for herself when Alex Russell told her that parents usually showed support for the kids by wearing the team colors. Too bad her son hadn’t been assigned to the Avalanches. She would’ve been set with her almost-all-white attire.
“Besides,” Kylie continued, as she made room for Mia to sit beside her, “I have to judge a pageant tonight and need to leave straight from here. What’s wrong with my outfit anyway? It’s Dior.” She tugged at the hem of her tight black dress with thick yellow piping—either in an attempt to maintain some sort of modesty or to just keep her rear end from direct contact with the cold metal seat.
“Well, in that case, it makes perfect sense that you’d wear couture to the ballpark on a Saturday morning.” Mia, who was usually the quiet voice of reason, was known to launch a zinger when they least expected it. Kind of like a sniper of sarcasm.
Maxine scanned the bleachers, checking out the other spectators. She wasn’t used to feeling out of place in most situations, but she didn’t like the attention their black-and-yellow-clad foursome was attracting from the parents of the opposing team. She sat up straighter, reminding herself that they were there to support Hunter.
“Some of the fans over there look pretty intense,” Mia observed.
At least Maxine wasn’t imagining things. She’d been right. Organized sports were too competitive and Hunter was going to get his heart broken if he didn’t play as well as people might expect of Bo Walker’s son.
Cessy made her well-practiced, socialite finger wave toward the bleachers on the other side of home plate—a born networker. “They’re probably jealous that the four of us are the best-looking cheerleaders this town has ever seen.”
Kylie’s hair whipped back as she shot an incredulous look at Cessy. But Maxine shook her head, silently warning her friend not to hurt the older woman’s feelings. If she wanted to think she was one of them, then let her.
As the players ran out on the field, Cessy shot out of her seat. “Let’s go, Bumblebees!”
“They’re the Yellow Jackets,” Maxine corrected.
“Same thing.”
“Who’s the Hottie McHotterson in the dugout?” Kylie asked, pointing to a man wearing a team jersey and kneeling down in front of Hunter.
“That’s Cooper,” Mia stage-whispered.
“Right. The sunglasses threw me off. They make him look all elusive and official. So, he’s taken up coaching now, too?” Kylie turned around with a grin that would’ve made the Cheshire cat jealous. “Gunny Heartthrob is becoming quite embedded in your family life, huh, Max?”
“Speaking of embedded...” Cessy leaned in like the coconspirator she longed to be. “When I called over to their house very early the other morning, Cooper was there for ‘breakfast.’” Her mother-in-law used her diamond ring-adorned fingers to simulate air quotes over the last part.
When Mia and Kylie looked at Cessy with big eyes, the older woman nodded and grinned. “Mmm-hmm.”
“He was not there for breakfast,” Maxine defended. “And he most certainly was not in my bed or embedded in any other way.”
The smiles and nods continued.
“Stop smirking at me,” Maxine said to Mia and Kylie. Then she turned to Cessy. “And you shouldn’t encourage them.” Before she could continue her scolding, which wasn’t turning out to be very effective anyway, she spotted her son. “Oh, look, here comes Hunter.”
The boy was the last player to come out of the dugout, making his way slowly behind the batter’s box and looking like a sausage encased in padded gear.
“Why is he playing catcher?” Maxine stiffened. “Is that the loser position? Are they making him play that because no one else wants to wear all that crazy big gear?” As she anxiously moved to the edge of the seat, her knees bumped Mia’s back.
“Settle down, Max.” Mia pushed her legs back and gave her a reassuring pat. “Don’t be one of those over-the-top parents we talked about the other night.”
“Actually,” Kylie said, “the catcher position is one of the most important roles on a baseball team. Remember, my dad was a pitcher? He said a catcher is always in tune with not only his team, but with the other batters, as well. And he calls the pitches.”
Her friends’ words were only slightly comforting. She shaded her eyes and looked toward Cooper, who ran out to Hunter and showed him where to stand.
Oh, no! What if her son got too close to the batter and ended up taking a baseball bat to the head? Was that helmet strong enough to withstand a hit like that?
Cooper must have sensed her worry because, as he jogged back to the dugout, he caught Maxine’s gaze and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Good catch, Hunter,” Cessy yelled, causing Maxine to pivot her head to see what she missed.
Kylie sighed. “Mrs. Walker, the pitcher is just warming up. There’s going to be a lot of throws coming Hunter’s way. You can’t yell into our ears every time he catches one.”
Bless her friends. Maxine wouldn’t have been able to take the added stress of Cessy’s constant cheering if she didn’t have them to help rein the woman in.
Hunter’s movements were slow and awkward the first couple innings—probably because he had to wear all that uncomfortable gear. When their team was at bat, he sat mostly by himself in the dugout, with only Cooper talking to him.
Did the other kids think he wasn’t any good? Were they ostracizing him? She wanted to run around the chain-link fence and tell him to get in the car so she could drive him home.
But by the third inning, he seemed to be getting the hang of things. He even caught a pop-up foul ball, forcing an out. When he turned to look at her and smiled that big freckle-faced grin, she finally allowed her clenched body to relax.
The first time Hunter went up to bat, Cooper fitted the helmet over his curly head, and then knelt down to talk to him. Hunter nodded and walked up to the plate. Cessy jumped up so fast and was so excited that Mia had to tell her to stop shaking the entire bleacher stand.
After two strikes, her son finally hit the ball and made it to first base.
“He hits far enough,” a dad sitting a few feet away from them said to another man. “Maybe if he ran faster, he would’ve gotten to second base.”
“Hey,” Kylie called out to the guy.
Maxine cringed at the defensive insult she expected her friend to throw his way, but Mia grabbed Kylie’s arm.
“This is his first time playing,” the sweet dance instructor told the opinionated dad. “He’s still getting the hang of things. Plus, we’re all on the same team, right?”
The man smiled at Mia, and the woman next to him elbowed him in the ribs.
Bless her friends again.
By the eighth inning, Hunter was moving around in the catcher’s gear as if it was his second skin. Maxine had to admit that he really wasn’t half-bad. Cooper had been right. And she hadn’t been able to stop looking for her son’s mentor every time Hunter made a good play. So far, they’d shared at least four smiles and two thumbs-up, not that she was keeping count.
“Okay, girls,” Kylie said. “I have to take off if I’m going to get to the Miss Royal Cupcake pageant in time.” The sexy redhead gave them each—even Cessy—a hug, and then navigated her stilettos down the bleachers.
The dad who’d smiled at them earlier got another elbow in his ribs when he tilted his head to watch her walk toward the dugout, and Maxine had to cover her mouth to keep from chuckling out loud.
Kylie said something to Hunter, who grinned and nodded before waving goodbye to his quasi aunt. Then she said something to Cooper and pointed back at Maxine. He lifted his sunglasses, looked her way and then burst out in full laughter.
Were they making fun of her? Maxine suddenly wished Kylie was still sitting in front of her so she could slink down and hide. Or so that she could kick the woman in her barely covered rear end.
She hadn’t decided which would be the better option.
When Kylie teetered off toward the parking lot, hips swaying in pageant-perfected confidence, Cooper shot Maxine another thumbs-up. But this time, she had a feeling that the approving gesture had nothing to do with Hunter.
What in the world had her friend said?
And why had Cooper found it so amusing?
* * *
Over the past few weeks, Cooper had seen Hunter just about every day. He’d also caught glimpses of the boy’s mom, but he hadn’t really had an opportunity to get her alone as Kylie had suggested at the opening game.
He’d tried to think of reasons to show up at the bakery in the early-morning hours, but since Mia had gotten word that Nick Galveston was being denied parole, and Cooper hadn’t had any success at finding out who he’d paid to spy on Mia, he didn’t have anything to talk to Maxine about—besides Hunter. And it was tough to talk to her about the boy because she prickled up any time he made a suggestion that was out of her Mama Bear norm.
But that Friday, when he was on his front porch restacking firewood, he looked out to the main road and realized he finally had his chance.
Through the trees, he spotted a pair of bright orange running shoes and tanned legs quickly making their way north of town. He looked down at his watch. It was a little after nine. From what he’d been able to gather, Maxine’s regular morning routine consisted of making her dough in the bakery before Hunter woke up, then having breakfast with the boy before taking him to school. After she dropped him off, Hunter said she usually went for a long run before opening up the trendy cookie shop at ten o’clock.
But Cooper hadn’t realized her jogging route went right by his cabin. He shook his head as he stacked the last log. Man, he couldn’t believe that he was already starting to think of the place as his. Or that his cop skills were getting rusty not being put into use daily. He needed to get back to police work. And in order to do that, he needed to get back into prime form.
He quickly calculated that if she had to be in town no later than ten, she would probably be turning around pretty soon and heading back this way. Good thing he’d worked extra hard at physical therapy yesterday and that Dr. McCormick at the naval hospital finally gave him the green light to start running again.
He went inside and threw on his shorts before lacing up a pair of old sneakers. He hadn’t replaced the ones he’d been wearing in the blast and, after seeing them in the clear plastic belongings bag a nurse gave him after his surgery, he threw them straight into the trash. He knew he couldn’t look at them without thinking of Helix or the explosion that had ended his military career.
Cooper did some lunges and stretching exercises, then made his way through the trees toward the main road. He couldn’t very well lie in wait for her to get close before popping out of the woods at the exact moment she ran by. That’d be way too obvious.
Since he’d have to start out slow, he figured that Maxine would easily catch up to him, making a chance meeting more plausible. Man, was he seriously resorting to plotting and scheming just to spend time with the woman?
He started at an easy pace, heading south. His knee was feeling okay, but he knew that if he ran all the way to town, it would be two miles. He could probably make it there without too much soreness, but he didn’t think he could do the roundtrip. At least, not on day one.
He’d been running for about fifteen minutes before the strains of The Commodores met his ears, and he turned back to look for the music’s source. Maxine was keeping a pretty good momentum and had her phone strapped to her arm, acting as a mini stereo. He kept his legs moving, trying not to be too apparent as he turned his head to watch her approach. She slowed down when she got to him, and he cursed himself for not being able to maintain her quicker pace.
She was wearing a sports tank, and had her long-sleeved shirt tied around her waist. She probably wasn’t ready to start cooling down, but she slowed her speed to match his. “You get the okay to take up running again?”
“Yep, first day out.”
“How’s your knee feeling?”
Like hell, he wanted to groan. “Like I could go another ten miles,” he said instead.
“Yeah, that strained grimace all over your face looks like you’re ready to enter the Idaho Potato Marathon.”
“I’m not making this face because I’m in pain. I’m making it because you have that crappy music turned up so loud.” The station had switched songs to a slower tempo.
“Crappy music? How can you say that about Smokey Robinson? Aren’t you from the Motor City?” She began picking up speed—probably on purpose because he’d insulted her.
Why did he always set her off? Gregson would have told him it was a coping mechanism to keep her from hurting him first. But for some reason, he seemed to be hurting himself. Literally. His knee was on fire, but he forced himself to meet her unspoken challenge.
“I’m from the part of Detroit that’s more about Eminem and Kid Rock. Now, that’s music you can run to. This stuff makes me want to meet up with Johnny and Susie by the punch bowl so we can sock hop to some doo-wop in the high school gym.”
“Whatever. This music gets inside your bloodstream, makes you want to move.”
He looked at her breasts, tightly constrained in her sports bra. Oh, man, how he suddenly envied Smokey. Cooper wanted to be the one who got in her bloodstream and made her move.
He was so busy looking at her bouncing form that he missed seeing a small pothole. Just as he stepped in it, a sharp pain bolted through his knee, and he pulled up, knowing he’d jarred something.
“If the music is that bad, I can put on my headphones. I normally don’t like to wear them when I’m on the mountain road so I can hear cars approach.” She glanced back at him. “Hey, are you okay?”
She put her hand on his arm, her eyes full of concern. The sympathy in her expression almost took the edge off the pain. Almost.
They stood there on the side of the road, less than half a mile from town, both breathing hard, but he refused to sit down and rest. He’d gone almost two miles and had no idea how he’d limp back to the cabin. Damn his pride for pushing him too hard on his first day out.
“Stretch it out a little.” She knelt down and rubbed her hands over his scar. The throbbing wasn’t as bad now that he’d stopped running. He looked down at the curly blond hair piled on top of her head, his fingers itching to feel it.
If she didn’t stand up and he wasn’t careful, he’d have to deal with a different kind of throbbing. And, if that happened, her face would be right at eye level—or mouth level—
“It’s fine. Really.” He backed up and limped around before he could let his thoughts run away with him. “I just need to walk it off a little.”
“Cooper,” she called. When she caught up with him, her gaze snagged his, and her expression as well as her tone grew serious. “I don’t think you should put any more pressure on it until the swelling goes down. Don’t walk all the way back to your cabin. You’re going to d
o more damage.”
“Well, I can’t very well sit out here on the side of the road until it feels better.” Although, that was exactly what he wanted to do.
“We’re almost to town. Let’s go back to my shop. Then I can drive you home.” She had her arm around his waist and was already steering him south on Snowflake Boulevard before he could refuse.
He wanted to be tough, to pretend that nothing was wrong and that he could take care of himself. But he also wanted to spend more time with her. And he didn’t mind the way she felt, nestled up against him like that.
As they headed toward town, he didn’t say anything or put up much resistance. He hobbled slowly, but the pain was already lessening. It was almost ten o’clock by the time they reached the back entrance to the bakery, where several cars belonging to her employees had already parked.
“Aren’t you guys opening soon?” he asked.
“Is it ten already?” She looked at the clock on her phone, and he felt like a tool for taking up so much of her time this morning.
“Listen, you don’t need to take me home,” he said. “I’ll go over to the Cowgirl Up and get something to eat. Then I’ll try to get a ride home with someone.”
Three months ago, if anyone would’ve told him that he’d be in some cutesy small town hitching rides from strangers, he would’ve laughed his head off. But he’d been eating regularly at Freckles’s restaurant, and the townspeople weren’t such strangers after all. Not that he opened up much about himself, but someone always struck up a conversation with him. And what had started out being annoying had become...well, sort of expected. And he’d gotten used to it. People in Sugar Falls were just that way. He had a suspicion a lot of their friendliness and interest in him had to do with getting Cessy’s stamp of approval, but everyone treated him as if he was a born local, even if he was still waiting for the boot to drop.
“The breakfast crowd is mostly gone by now,” she said. “The only ones who might still be there are Scooter and Jonesy. What are you going to do? Climb up into Klondike’s saddle and trot on back home?”
A Marine for His Mom (Sugar Falls, Idaho) Page 13