A Marine for His Mom (Sugar Falls, Idaho)

by Christy Jeffries

  Cooper had seen the boys talking together more now that they played on the same team, and there was less competition between the two. But he kept his lips shut, hoping Maxine would come around without him putting in his usual two cents.

  “Jake’s all right when he isn’t totally full of bull,” Hunter said. “Besides, he hasn’t called me Chubba Bubba in a long time.”

  Maxine flinched at the hated nickname, but still kept her eyes straight ahead.

  “Also,” Hunter added, “he picked me to play the soccer goalie at recess yesterday.”

  “Who is going to this sleepover?” Maxine asked.

  “Just some boys from my class and some of the other guys on the team. I guess Jake has one every year, but this is the first time I got invited.”

  “Let me call Mrs. Marconi and talk to her about it first, okay?”

  “Sweet!”

  Cooper didn’t turn around, but he could imagine Hunter pumping his fist in the air. The kid had made big improvements in the fifth grade popularity scene, and he hoped Maxine had noticed. She was probably being cautious before sending her cub into what she might consider the social lion’s den. But she was definitely making progress, too.

  “You can probably talk to his mom tomorrow at the game.” Hunter tapped Cooper on the shoulder. “Hey, Coop. Is your knee going to be better for the game tomorrow?”

  “I wouldn’t miss your game, kiddo.”

  Or your train of thought. He’d learned that the ten-year-old could bounce conversations around like his brain was the flipper on that new pinball machine at Patrelli’s.

  “What about trout fishing on Sunday?” the boy asked. “Can we still do that?”

  “Hunter!” Maxine said. “Let Cooper’s knee rest a little. You have all week off school to hang out with him.”

  Cooper didn’t know why her attempts to limit their time together bugged him. She’d told him in the diner that she didn’t want her son to become a pest, but he had a feeling it was more than that—in spite of what they’d just shared.

  “Buddy,” Cooper said, “we can hang out every day—if it’s okay with your mom.” If she was really concerned that Hunter might become a burden, then that ought to appease her. He actually liked hanging out with Hunter. And he didn’t want Maxine to put the brakes on their relationship just because she didn’t like where things were headed back there in her kitchen.

  “Sweet,” Hunter said again. “Every day is good for me, except for Friday. That’s the night of the sleepover.”

  Cooper stole a glance at Maxine and saw her roll her eyes. So he’d been right. She wasn’t just trying to protect Cooper’s privacy.

  “Hey, Coop,” Hunter said. “You want me to ask Jake if you can come, too? He said his dad always has to sleep in the doghouse, but maybe we could bring our sleeping bags outside with you guys.”

  Maxine smirked, and Cooper mentally kicked himself.

  “No thanks, Hunter. You need to spend some quality time with your school buddies. Besides...” He purposely brushed his fingers along Maxine’s shoulder under the pretense of bracing his hand on her seat, then turned to talk to the boy in the back. “I really hate being in the doghouse.”

  Maxine lifted an eyebrow at him, then flashed her gaze back to the road. She was barely giving him an inch. But it was better than shutting him out.

  “Hey, Coop,” Hunter said, changing directions again. “I got your email, but I didn’t tell Gram yet that you hate the new shirts she picked out for you. Mom says when Gram buys us something, we have to smile and say thanks, even if we don’t like it.”

  Maxine now got her own chance to smirk.

  Cooper heaved a sigh. “I liked them. Kind of. I just don’t want her wasting her hard-earned money on clothes for me.”

  “I don’t think she works that hard for her money because she sure does like to spend it. Anyway, you probably don’t need a fancy suit anymore because she told Freckles that Mayor Johnston and the rest of the city council owe her a favor, so you’ll probably be a shoot in for the new chief job.”

  Shoo in. Shoot in. Cooper had learned that it was all the same to Cessy Walker as long as she got what she wanted. Heaven help him if the society matron ran this town the way she picked out men’s clothing. But he held his tongue, not wanting to complain about the woman who thought she was doing him a favor. He knew his résumé and his experience was what would ultimately land him the position—not Hunter’s overbearing grandmother.

  The Explorer pulled into the long, narrow drive and, even though Maxine took the bumps much slower, he rubbed the ache in his knee.

  “We’ll come in and get you settled, right, Mom?”

  “I...uh...we...” She looked at Cooper as if to ask him to give her an out.

  He shook his head at her. Nope. She’d left him to the wolves in the Italian restaurant, first with her mother-in-law and then with her nosy friends. It was time for payback. “That’d be great. Thanks, Maxine.” He winced as he stretched out his leg, overdoing his invalid act. “I could really use some help getting to my bedroom.”

  “I’ll get an ice pack.” Hunter ran into the cabin ahead of them so Cooper didn’t have to exaggerate his limp.

  “You big faker,” Maxine said, as she came around the car and walked close enough so her son wouldn’t overhear her. “You had no problem lifting me up earlier, but now you can’t make it inside?”

  “I got it!” Hunter raced back out to the porch, a frozen blue pack in his hand.

  “Oops.” Cooper pretended to stumble, then threw his arm around Maxine, pulling her close while making it appear that she was the one bracing him.

  Her elbow dug into his rib cage, and he suddenly felt a kinship with Jake Marconi’s dad. In response, he pulled her tighter against him, restricting her movements and preventing her from doing any more damage.

  “Take it easy, Mom. You’re going to hurt him if you keep pulling back like that.”

  Cooper’s chuckle turned into a very real yelp when Maxine’s boot heel landed squarely on his sneaker-clad foot.

  “Whoops,” she said. “I guess I lost my footing carrying all your deadweight.”

  If that was a threat, he was enjoying himself too much to care. “Better put me on the couch,” he said, as they barely squeezed through the front door together. “I know the countertop is probably where you’d prefer to have me, but you can tend to me just as well down here.”

  He was quick enough to dodge the heel of her boot this time, but he almost missed the couch with the force she’d used to shove him on it.

  “Here’s the ice pack, Mom.” Hunter tossed it to her and Cooper was impressed when she easily snatched it out of the air. “I’m gonna go check on the fishing gear for Sunday.”

  The minute the boy was out of the cabin, Cooper braced himself for the tongue lashing he well deserved for playing possum.

  She surprised him by walking toward his kitchen table and asking, “Is that the plant I gave you when you were in the hospital?”

  “Yeah, it’s really perked up.”

  “It’s huge! If it perks up any more, you’re going to need to get it out of that pot and transplant it into the yard.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never really been the type to put down roots anywhere—literally or figuratively.” Except now that he’d spent some time with Maxine and Hunter and the comfortable town of Sugar Falls, he second-guessed whether he was still intent on not settling down.

  “That’s too bad. I don’t think things can reach their potential unless they’re truly grounded.”

  Were they still talking about the plant?

  “I don’t know about that. Some things get so embedded in one spot that when there’s an upheaval in their whole ecosystem, they wither and die instead of getting successfully uprooted and moving along
to the next garden.”

  “So you’re saying you’d rather go through life in a cheap flower pot from the drugstore?” She lifted that sexy blond eyebrow at him.

  “I’m just saying that I haven’t found the right pot to contain me. So until then, I think I’ll just keep on rolling.”

  “You mean like a tumbleweed?” She snorted. “You know, no matter how big and prickly a tumbleweed gets, all it takes is one little car to hit it and, whack—nothing but thorns blasted to smithereens.”

  “Can I get you a beer?” He stood and barely limped to the fridge, away from her and the emotions she was bringing out of him. Now that Hunter was outside, he didn’t need to play the injured role. He pulled out two bottles of pale ale from a brewery that had just opened down the street.

  “That’d be great.”

  He grabbed a bottle opener out of the drawer and popped the top for her. “Glass?” he asked.

  She thanked him when he handed her the icy mug, then took three breaths before downing a big gulp.

  He liked to rile her up, but he hadn’t meant to be such a jerk she’d needed to cope with alcohol and deep breathing exercises.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I was just trying to tease you and lighten the mood.”

  “It’s not just that.” She sighed, then took her glass to the denim-upholstered sofa and sat down. He liked the way she was making herself at home—and he definitely liked the way she looked on his couch. “I can’t believe I forgot my own child at school. What kind of mom does that?”

  He took a seat next to her, wanting to rub her back or touch her in some way to ease her stress. But she was sunk so deeply against the pillows, there was no way to touch her—unless he touched the front of her body. And look at where that had gotten both of them before.

  “It’s not that big of a deal,” he said, placing his foot on the coffee table, elevating his knee. “Nobody ever picked me up from school and Sugar Falls isn’t exactly the toughest neighborhood. Besides, Hunter didn’t seem to be bothered too much by it.”

  “And now this sleepover thing? What if the other kids tease him? He’s never stayed overnight at a friend’s house.”

  “He’s spent the night with his grandmother before, right?”

  “But this is different.”

  “It’s a little different, but at least you know that he can be away from home for the night. Plus, I don’t want to toot my own horn or tell you I was right all along, but playing baseball has been really good for his confidence. He’s getting exercise and he’s fitting in more with the other boys his age. Not to mention, he’s one hell of a catcher.”

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for him to grow up.”

  She hadn’t had another sip of her beer since that initial swallow, but she still held the cold glass in her hands, turning it this way and that.

  “Max.” Cooper took her mug and set it on the coffee table. “He’s ready. And he’s going to grow up whether you’re prepared or not. Besides, if you’re afraid to stay alone, you can always come have dinner out here with me.”

  Sure, the last part was a cheesy line, but he hoped that if he made the offer sound like a joke, he could better play it off when she turned him down flat.

  Instead of slapping him and walking out the door, she looked at him with such an intensity he wondered if he’d made the suggestion in one of the Afghani dialects.

  “Do you think anyone would find out if I did?”

  If she did what? Was she actually considering going on a date with him? And if so, why would she want to keep it on the down low? But if it meant getting her alone one evening on his domain, he’d keep whatever secret she wanted.

  “I wouldn’t tell anyone.” He wasn’t completely sure that they were talking about the same thing until she turned toward him and put her hand on his bare leg.

  “You promise? Not Hunter, not Cessy, not the girls?”

  Oh, man. She was serious. They were definitely on the same page.

  “It took me a long time to build up not only my business, but my reputation, which can be very challenging for a single mom. I don’t want anyone in town talking about us.”

  “Maxine, I think people have already been talking. Personally, I don’t mind people thinking that someone like you would want to date someone like me. I get where you’re coming from as far as the reputation thing goes, but you’re human and you’re allowed to be attracted to a single man. I sure as hell am attracted to you, and if we decided to take things to the next level, then we’ll keep that decision to ourselves.”

  “That’s what it’d be, right?” She looked at him. “No ties. No promises. Just dinner?”

  Hell, it wasn’t as if he was thinking in terms of forever, but he wouldn’t mind being more to her than a onetime thing.

  Yet before he could say so, Hunter ran back in the cabin.

  “All the gear looks pretty good, but we’ll need to get some fresh bait. Hey, Mom, did you know that your shirt is buttoned up all wrong?”

  Chapter Ten

  On Sunday evening, as Hunter and Cooper set a red plastic cooler down on her expensive hardwood floor, Maxine placed her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you brought those smelly fish into our house.”

  Did they think she was operating a seafood restaurant?

  “C’mon, Mom. Me and Cooper cleaned them and everything already. You’re the best cook I know, and I promised him that if he took me fishing, we’d eat what we caught. Besides, if we don’t have the trout tonight, then we have to go to Gram’s for that same ole chicken she always gives us.”

  “Actually,” Cooper said, as he knelt by the cooler and opened the lid, “I don’t think it’s the fish that smells so much as your son’s clothes. He and Jake got into a fish fight at the cleaning station and were throwing trout heads and guts at each other.”

  Maxine leaned in and sniffed Hunter’s Colorado Rockies T-shirt. “Oh, Hunter, that’s disgusting. No wonder you stink to high heaven.” She pointed to the hall. “Go take a bath right now. We’re going to need to burn those clothes.”

  “Dang it,” Hunter said as he moped down the hall. “If I knew we were gonna be burning clothes, then I would’ve worn those purple skinny jeans Gram got me.”

  Cooper laughed, and Maxine couldn’t help smiling with him.

  After Friday and the kitchen-counter incident, she and Cooper had fallen into a mutual understanding that they weren’t going to talk about either the kiss or their upcoming dinner when Hunter went to his sleepover. But she could tell by the way he’d looked at her yesterday at the ballpark and then this morning when he’d picked Hunter up, he was thinking about next weekend just as much as she was.

  Since she’d met him, they hadn’t even shared a meal—not counting that awkward breakfast at the Cowgirl Up the day after he arrived in town. Maxine thought that maybe their date would seem more relaxed and less formal if they ate together first.

  But she also didn’t want to push him into some awkward family dinner situation that would make him feel caged in. She hadn’t been with another man since Bo, and she didn’t want to come across as lonely or desperate, or worse, inexperienced.

  Maybe if she kept things between them informal and casual, then she wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt when he left town. And if she kept things quiet, she wouldn’t have to worry about being known as the woman who had two different men ditch her.

  “So how many fish will I be cooking all of us for dinner?” she asked, as Cooper pulled out the contents of the cooler. She hoped her question sounded like an invitation, but not one that he would feel obligated to accept. She didn’t want to make him stay if he didn’t want to.

  “We just have two.” He set the newspaper-covered bundles on the counter. “But if you don’t think it’s enough, I used to be stationed in Be
aufort and learned how to make some pretty good hush puppies. Do you have any cornmeal?”

  He turned to the sink to wash his hands and she wanted to do a cheer jump in excitement. He was staying for dinner. It was almost like a quasi pre-date—except with a ten-year-old chaperone.

  She went into the pantry and pulled out the items they’d need to fry up their impromptu Southern-style meal. She wished she’d brought home that batch of sweet potato cookies they’d been experimenting with for the flavor of the month, but she’d figure out dessert later. If it were just the two of them, she knew exactly what she’d want for dessert. And, oh, my, how delicious he looked.

  His worn jeans fit as if they were made for him, and his black T-shirt still bore the hint of fabric softener—and not the eau de fish Hunter had trailed in. Maybe he’d changed before he brought her son home. The thought that he wanted to look—and smell—good for her, made her want to follow her mental high jump with a back handspring.

  “Where do you keep your mixing bowls?” he asked as he threw a dish towel over his shoulder.

  Sweet mercy. She liked a man who was comfortable in a kitchen.

  “Bowls are up in that cupboard.” She pointed to the right side of the sink. “And pans are underneath the counter. Make yourself at home.”

  He looked at her midriff, which had been exposed when she was showing him where everything was kept, and she clenched her stomach muscles at the reminder of what happened the last time she’d told him to make himself at home.

  She struggled with the urge to ignore the heated moment or act upon it, pondering her next move while removing milk and eggs from the refrigerator. Then she turned on the small stereo on the counter, filling the kitchen with vintage rhythm and blues.

  On second thought, she moved back to the fridge for the chilled bottle of white wine she’d been saving for a special occasion.

  She also had a couple of bottles of beer left over from her brother’s visit last summer. Did beer expire?

  “I was going to have some chardonnay.” She held up the bottle. “But I have Heineken if you’d prefer something a bit more manly.”