Enthralled
Slow, lazy blinks brought a venti cardboard cup into focus on Quinn’s nightstand where the baby monitor usually was. Quinn sat up in bed and looked from her stack of novels in the corner chair to her laptop on the modern dresser against the side wall. The guest room was as still and quiet as it’d been when she’d cut the lights off last night.
“Cooper?” she called.
No answer. No movement. Only the delectable aroma of what could only be one thing.
She picked up the warm cup, lifted the lid, and breathed in steamy, frothy, heavenly perfection. Her lips indulged in a smile and the sweet taste of vanilla. Despite living in the middle of nowhere, Cooper had found her a latte.
The man truly was something else. She was the one who should be buying him drinks after enduring a day at her family’s. Okay, he’d had his share of amusement yesterday, too, but he was doing her a favor she didn’t deserve.
As if eager and waiting to second the thought, the Cruella De Vil song roared into the silence. Quinn wiped the streak of coffee running down her chin while scrambling for her cell.
“Hello?”
“I’m loving the story, Thompson. Who knew Cooper Anderson was such a troubled bachelor?”
Quinn hadn’t written everything Cooper had shared with her, but she’d obviously painted enough of an idea for Cruella to run with it.
This was exactly why she wanted the executive editor position to begin with. So she could choose the right stories for the magazine, match them up with the best writers for the job, and start printing inspiring articles without the gossip and slander.
She scooted against the headboard and bunched a pillow under her arms. “You know, I was thinking. Why not do a different piece on Cooper? I really don’t think anyone’s interested in his past. Even if there was something going on with . . .”
A thought tied itself around her vocal cords and yanked them to the pit of her stomach. Fragments fused together a breath at a time: Cooper’s sudden departure from Shore Corp, his niece’s illness, his brother not wanting to ask for help. There never was a big scandal. Cooper gave up his job to help take care of Maddie, and the only reason he’d kept it so secretive was to shield his brother’s pride. No wonder he’d turned down every interview.
The coffee churned in her stomach.
“Forget the scandal,” Cruella said. “This single-parent, wounded-hero angle is far juicier. Readers are going to eat it up.”
“That’s not really the angle I was going—”
“You’ll write this piece, Thompson. And you’ll get Cooper’s permission to print it, or you can forget about coming back to this magazine.”
“What?” The coffee turned to lead, her insides cracking.
“I expect to see the full feature on my desk by Monday.”
In only a week? “Wait.” Quinn flung her legs over the side of the bed, her mind reeling as fast as her pulse.
It didn’t matter if Cruella lost her job in a month or not. She was her boss right now. Even worse, Corporate had them both under scrutiny. If Quinn cracked under the pressure and messed up this feature, she’d lose her one shot at everything she’d spent the last four years working toward. “If we can just talk about this, I’m sure we can—”
“Monday morning, Thompson. And by the way, I’d look for a new roommate if you don’t follow through on this. Two jobless girls won’t be able to keep a roof over their heads in Hatteras for very long.”
Ava.
The second Cruella hung up, Quinn scrolled for her best friend’s number, knowing full well she wouldn’t be awake yet.
“You’ve reached Ava Constello. If this is Ryan Reynolds, I’ll call you back in five. Anyone else? Take your chances.” Beep.
“Ava, please tell me Cruella hasn’t fired you. Call me back, girl. This is important.” Quinn ended the call, tapped the phone to her forehead, and tried not to freak.
No, she could handle it. Had to handle it. It’d be fine. She’d come up with a game plan—something that’d make things right for everyone involved. She just had to clear her head.
With a purging exhale, she traded her cell for the cup of deliverance waiting for her and got out of bed.
Her clothes from last night lay in a heap on the floor, tangled with images of Brian hugging her on the pier in an attempt to glue parts together that’d always be broken. At least she’d finally told him why she left. Now, she had to find a way to tell Cooper why she’d come back.
She walked straight to Brayden’s room on instinct. Sunlight seeping through the closed blinds lit a path to his crib. With damp hair and red cheeks, he lay asleep in a onesie he was already outgrowing. Her heart cinched.
Cooper shouldn’t miss watching every little change take place in his son’s life. To see him take his first steps. Hear his first full sentence. She’d give anything to have that chance. Did he really not realize how lucky he was?
And what about Brayden? Would he accept love from adoptive parents the way he did from Cooper? Would he grow up feeling unwanted?
The possibility nearly bent her in half as she took in this precious, perfect baby boy.
A song she hadn’t thought about in ages swelled inside her. Maybe it was from visiting her childhood home yesterday. Or maybe it was so ingrained in her after all the times Dad had sung it to her, it’d become a reflex. Whatever the reason, Quinn knew she had to sing it over him. She set her coffee down and leaned both arms on the crib railing.
He woke up to her singing, and she would’ve sworn he smiled at her as if understanding.
“That’s a beautiful song.”
Quinn flung a hand to her mouth to squelch a gasp. She turned toward Cooper, leaning into the doorjamb with eyes on her like he was admiring a confounding art piece.
Her hand slid to her chest. “You really need to stop sneaking up on me like that.”
“Maybe if you stopped leaving me standing in doorways, enthralled, I’d have a chance.”
Heat climbed her neck at his compliment. Even more at the sight of him in his chic dress clothes, looking like a confident power executive.
She swiped at her coffee and a plausible excuse for the stupid flush reaching her cheeks now. “Thanks for the latte. Don’t tell me you flew this in from Hatteras.”
“You don’t think I would?”
“To impress a girl?” She snorted. “Probably.”
The corners of his mouth reached for his dimples. “Who said I was trying to impress you?”
She coughed through a swallow. “No one. I didn’t mean . . . I was just . . .” And there went any chance of extinguishing the heat soaring clear past her hairline. She snagged Brayden from the crib. “I need to change him. Unless you want to do the honors.” She held him out.
Palms raised, Cooper backed up. “I have to get to a meeting with a client.”
“Good.” She exhaled.
“Good?”
Shoot. “Not that I want you to leave or anything. I mean, it doesn’t matter one way or another. I was just thinking it’s probably good for you. You know, to take care of business . . . stuff.” Yeah, that sounded intelligent all right.
“Uh-huh. Well, I should be off then.” His lips quirked. “Taking care of business stuff.”
For all his money, the guy really should’ve built a secret chamber in this place so she’d have somewhere to escape to right now.
Still grinning, he disappeared around the frame, and Quinn’s chin sagged to her chest. Classy, Thompson. Even Brayden seemed amused. She looked from him back to the door, Cruella’s call slithering to mind. “Wait!” She whirled around the trim. “Can we talk?”
“Would love to.” By the front door, Cooper shucked on a suit jacket and pushed back the cuff to check his watch. “But I only have a few minutes.”
“Right, yeah.” She tried to play it cool. “Of course. We can talk whenever you get back.”
He studied her, probably reading everything she was supposed to keep hidden. “You sure? ’Cause if it’s important . . .”
With a practiced smile secured, she adjusted Brayden on her hip. “It’s nothing that can’t wait. Besides, little man and I have a date of our own.”
“If you’re positive.” Cooper hesitated a moment longer before opening the door. “But call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”
“We’ll be fine. No rush.” In fact, the sooner those piercing hazel eyes were behind that door, the better. She took Brayden’s hand in hers and waved a happy goodbye.
The expression on Cooper’s face as he waved back gutted her down the middle. He could deny it if he wanted to, but he was falling for his son. She’d been watching it happen every day.
No sooner had he left when a knock at the door echoed into the foyer. Relief swept through her as she whisked it open. “Good, I wanted to say—”
“There he is.” Instead of Cooper, a grandmotherly woman stood on the porch, red lipstick curving in a bright smile fixed on Brayden. “How’s my surrogate grandbaby doing?” She reached for him. “You mind?”
Not that it mattered if Quinn did, because the woman already had Brayden up in the air. She lowered his belly to her mouth and gave him a loud raspberry.
Quinn pulled on her ear. “I’m sorry, and you are?”
She lowered Brayden to her hip, while his pudgy fingers went straight for her glasses. “Just look at me, forgetting my manners. I’m Cooper’s neighbor, Sheila.” Extending her free hand, she looked Quinn up and down. “And you must be the reason he hasn’t called lately.”
“Excuse me?”
Sheila gestured toward the inside of the house in a silent request to come in. Considering she still had Brayden hostage, what was Quinn supposed to say? She held the door back to let the woman pass and grimaced at the cloud of perfume ambushing her.
“Cooper’s been a lifesaver to the neighborhood. He helped mend my fence this past fall.” She slid her glasses down as though getting ready to tell her something she shouldn’t. “Refusing to accept payment in return, of course. But when this baby of his showed up . . .” She bounced him on her hip. “Well, I just knew it was my chance to return the favor.”
Quinn’s arms came uncrossed. “You’re the one who’s been coming over to change Brayden’s diapers?” And here, she’d accused him of luring bimbo girlfriends over to do his dirty work. Guilt wormed through her rib cage.
“Can’t blame a single father for being a little overwhelmed. And I certainly understand him wanting to keep his privacy. People treat you differently when they know you have money. Believe me, I know.” She tugged Brayden’s fingers free from her necklace with a jewel-clad hand. “So, I help out wherever I can. Even make some dinners on occasion.”
Meanwhile, Quinn only made assumptions—ones Cooper was consistently breaking.
“He does better than he thinks he does, though.” Sheila finally surrendered her glasses, which ended up straight in Brayden’s mouth. “One day, he’ll see it. Just needs to give himself a little time.”
Time. The one thing they were running out of. But she was right. Quinn had been watching Cooper become more and more connected to Brayden.
Hope rose through the ashes of her own problems and formed an entirely different plan than the one she needed to be working on. Maybe she couldn’t save face with Cooper, but she could at least save a son’s relationship with his father. They both deserved that chance. She just had to make Cooper see it before it was too late.