Lattes and Lullabyes Page 11

  "Uh." She had to stop and focus long enough to recall. "It was in… May. Yeah, it was May. I remember because it was when…"

  "Rocco showed up," he said, growling the words. "When I brought my mom here before she passed away."

  "But… how would he have known you were here?"

  "Mom. She probably told him. Despite everything he'd done to her, she kept in contact." He shook his head. "Unbelievable. She was as codependent as they come and still considered him the love of her life." The sound that emerged from him lacked all hint of humor. "What a life it was."

  "It sounds as though… they may have made peace with each other."

  He didn't respond.

  "Cooper, I can't begin to comprehend what it was like growing up with a drunk for a father. You didn’t deserve that. No kid does. But you're an adult now and you have to let the past go. You're breaking the cycle with the twins. You've uprooted and changed your entire life for them, but if you truly want to be the father they need, it means letting yourself heal and putting it—who Dally was—behind you."

  "Don't. I can't stand here and listen to you defend him. You don't know what he did to me. To Mom and Ashley. If you had any idea… f you knew the hell…"

  His voice carried the horror of it, and her heart shattered for him. For the little boy he used to be who’d needed his dad not to hurt or yell or… "Don't do it for him, Cooper. Do it for yourself. For the twins. Forgiveness isn't just about your father. It's you being able to let it go and living the life you should've had from the very beginning." She slid her arms around his waist and cuddled close, breathing in the scent of spice and man.

  London felt his lips brush her forehead, press against the top of her head as he swallowed her in an iron-hard hug. She listened to his heart beat beneath her ear and measured the words that formed. "Cooper, you can run from something or you can run to something. If you run from, it's out of fear and pain, but if you run to?" She lifted her head from his chest so she could meet his gaze, hold it. "It's because of love a-and hope. Because you want something better for the future. For you and your children."

  Cooper wouldn't meet her gaze. He stared at her but didn't see her, and she knew he was lost in the memories tormenting his mind.

  "That man will do nothing but hurt those kids if I let him."

  The arms locked around her dropped to his sides and she felt bereft. "So don't let him. You're their guardian. You have full control. No one will argue that right. But if Dally is as bad as he looks… Cooper, he's their only grandparent."

  "So? They meet him and then what? I have no reason to believe anything has changed."

  "But if he's sober—"

  "That would be a miracle, London. And I lost my ability to believe in them long ago."

  She wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him close once again and rested her forehead on his chest even though Cooper didn't return the embrace.

  "I want to go home. I don't want to leave the temporary nanny for long, fully trained and experienced or not."

  Cooper extracted himself but snagged her hand in his for the walk back to his Jeep. "Cooper… the kids would never have to be alone with him. Never have to go anywhere with him."

  "Not going to happen."

  "Even if he has changed?"

  Cooper released her hand and opened her door but didn't wait for her to get in. He stalked around the front of the vehicle to his side and jabbed the key in the ignition the moment he settled in his seat.

  "He hasn't."

  "Cooper—"

  "Drop it, London. Okay? All of the what-ifs don't apply here. The man destroyed my mother and my sister and he very nearly destroyed me. Why would I give him the chance to do it again? It's up to me to protect Ashley's kids, and I owe her that since I wasn't there when she needed me. There are no compromises here."

  "There could be. Cooper, don’t you see? We have no control over choices people make in life. It's on them, not the ones who love them. You are not responsible for Ashley's choices, and like it or not, neither is Dally."

  "That's where you're wrong. Had he been a better man—a better father—Ashley would be here today.”

  “You don’t know that. Dally could’ve been sober, the best father ever, and she still might have made the same choices.”

  “I won’t invite him back into our lives just so he can wreck them again. London"—Cooper stopped and shook his head, fairly vibrating with anger—"Dalton's made a decent impression on you, but that's not the real him. Now, either you support me in this or we need to end things between us, because I'm not going to spend another moment of our time together fighting about him."

  * * *

  "He said that to you?" Frankie demanded an hour later after London texted her sister the private, twin version of 911 and Frankie had appeared on her doorstep minutes later with Tank in tow.

  "Yeah." London curled up on one end of her old couch, loving that everything in her home smelled like richly brewed coffee and chocolate. When it came to scents, those were a natural de-stressor for her, and living above the coffeehouse in the old building made her apartment a cocoon of comforting goodness. "But I'm telling you there's something really wrong with Dally. He had a cane and was obviously really, really weak. Whatever is wrong, it's serious. I'm worried about him."

  "Cooper isn't."

  London watched as Frankie joined her on the couch and motioned for Tank to hop up between them. Tank was officially a retired bomb-sniffing K-9, but he had the personality of a comfort dog with his laid-back demeanor, which was probably why Frankie was letting him on the furniture. "What am I going to do? Cooper and I haven't known each other long but it's been… There's something there. Something real and good that I'd love to explore."

  "Are you sure it's not his hot body?"

  London gripped her cup of tea in both hands and made a face at her sister. "You sound like Carolina."

  "Well, from what I’ve heard, he is hot. Too bad he's so screwed up."

  "He's not screwed up. He's…"

  Frankie waited for London to finish the sentence but she didn't. Couldn't. Because they both knew it was a lie. Cooper had deep-seated family issues due to his childhood, and London wasn't sure how to help him cope or even if she could. "You should've seen him yesterday. He was terrified of taking the twins out because he'd never done it before, but he was a natural. Kind and attentive, firm when he needed to be. He could have easily turned out to be a drunk or an addict like his sister, but instead it's like he's overcorrected and gone the extreme opposite.

  "Which confirms the fact that if you push too hard…"

  "I risk pushing him away for good," she said with a sad nod. "He's already pulling away from me. I could feel it tonight when he brought me back here. He dropped me off and didn't kiss me. He just… left."

  "Do you think he'll come to the coffee shop tomorrow for the interviews as planned?"

  "I hope so. He has quite a few scheduled. Maybe in between them we can… talk."

  "Talking got you in trouble. Maybe just laying one on him would be a better plan of attack."

  Frankie's comment drew a smile from London, and she shifted her attention to the German shepherd lying on the couch between them. "What do you think, Tank? Should I just kiss him?"

  Tank's ears twisted and shifted in response to his name and her touch on his hindquarters, but when she began stroking his thick fur, he lowered his head back onto Frankie's thigh.

  "Okay, so, tomorrow you'll get your chance to smooth things over. Let him cool off tonight and get some distance. Maybe things will be better come morning, and he'll see you're only trying to help. He can't stay mad at you, Londy. No one can."

  "Mmm. If you say so."

  "I do."

  Frankie lifted a hand and smothered a yawn.

  "I'm keeping you up. Go home. Get some sleep."

  Frankie waved away the suggestion. "I'm good."

  "You know, maybe you'd sleep better if you let yourself relax when
you start yawning and such."

  "Sleep is overrated."

  Uh-huh. Frankie wouldn't say much about the nightmares she suffered from, but London knew they kept her from ever getting a whole night's sleep. "You wanna stay here? We can share the bed or you can unfold the couch."

  Frankie tilted her head to the side and lifted an eyebrow high.

  "Stop worrying about me."

  "You're exhausted. You're always exhausted. Have you ever thought about getting some counseling for the PTSD?"

  Frankie sighed and flashed London a glare.

  "This is why we can't have sleepovers anymore," she said sternly, pushing herself up off of the couch.

  "Frankie, you don't have to leave."

  "I know. But maybe if I do, you'll realize you have enough to worry about without adding me to your list."

  Frankie waited while London stood and then hugged her.

  "I'm sorry," London said to her sister. "Apparently I can't keep my mouth shut tonight."

  "Just go to sleep. It'll be better in the morning."

  London watched them go and locked the door behind them.

  Maybe Frankie's prediction would come true. Maybe Cooper just needed time to mull over what had happened. What she'd said to him, the condition they'd seen Dally in…

  Or maybe the hours between now and then would allow Cooper to retreat even more.

  Either way, it was a crap shoot. But for the second time that night, London had driven someone she cared for away, and she didn’t like how it felt.

  Chapter 16

  Cooper hurried down the sidewalk, figuring he'd arrive about the same time as his first interview candidate.

  He'd tossed and turned most of the night, London's words replaying in his head along with the memory of her hurt expression when he'd told her support him or else.

  That'll get you boyfriend points.

  But was that what he was? A boyfriend? Or just a friend? Someone London felt obligated to help because of reasons only she understood?

  Now really wasn't the time to be trying to figure out such things, but when he thought about London and life… she seemed to fit like a puzzle piece that had been missing.

  Unlike Dalton.

  Dally.

  Cooper shook his head at the nickname. Why had Dalton used it with London? How had that come about?

  Only way to know is to ask him.

  Yeah, not happening.

  When Cooper had fallen asleep, he'd dreamed a mixture of old Dalton and new. Room-destroying rages from when he was a kid when Cooper was forced to grab Ashley and make a run for it to hide themselves in a closet or jump out the window to hide on the roof. They'd stay hidden or gone until Dalton passed out and wait for the morning, when he'd wake up and pretend nothing had happened.

  But the new Dalton, old, beaten down, hobbling along on a cane and looking like death… What was up with that? And how had Dalton managed to score a woman who, by the looks of her, seemed normal? Well dressed, pulled together, and considerate if her hold on Dalton and the worried expression she wore were any indication.

  His stepmother had seemed… loving. Kind. Normal.

  Then again, the only other woman he'd ever seen Dalton with was his mother, who'd stopped taking care of herself early on due to the emotional, verbal, and random physical abuse Dalton had bombarded her with.

  He arrived at the coffee shop and paused for a split second with his hand on the door, inhaling in an attempt to brace himself to see London. He knew he ought to apologize for his behavior last night, but the anger he'd felt at her taking Dalton's side still ate at him.

  "Mr. Bale? Good morning," a woman said the moment he walked across the threshold.

  He looked over to find a very plain woman who looked to be in her early thirties. She appeared much older, however, due to the old-fashioned skirt that fell to her ankles and the long-sleeved shirt she wore despite the muggy heat outside. "Uh, you must be my nine o'clock."

  "Yes, sir. Prudence Symmes. I was early. The early bird gets the worm, right?"

  "Uh, sure. Have a seat."

  "Where would you like to sit?"

  "Anywhere." She blinked at him, wide-eyed, but didn't move. Finally he turned toward a table by the windows and pulled out a chair. She quickly followed and sat down opposite him. "Would you like coffee?"

  As though conjured by his words, London appeared, looking every bit as sleepy-eyed and tired as he felt. Apparently they'd both had a restless night. "Good morning."

  "Hi." She set a large mug of black brew on the table in front of him.

  "He didn't order that. I was here the whole time and he didn't order that," Prudence stated emphatically.

  "I know but—"

  "Take it away. He doesn't want someone else's order."

  "Uh, Prudence, I'm a regular here. London knows my order."

  "Oh. Oh, of course. I didn't realize."

  "Mmm," London said, her expression strained. "What can I get you… Prudence, was it?"

  London stared at the other woman rather than make eye contact with him.

  "I'd like a latte heated to no less than 140 degrees, with organic soy. Not fake organic. True, certified organic. Oh, in this."

  London's expression probably matched his own when Prudence pulled a saran-wrapped mug from her purse.

  "Please leave the wrapping on the handle until you bring it to the table, then unwrap it and take it with you."

  "Okay, then." London accepted the mug from the woman who set it on the table rather than actually hand it to London and turned, catching his gaze briefly before looking away.

  "Excuse me for a moment, would you, Prudence?" Cooper got up and followed London to the counter. "Hey."

  "Hey, yourself."

  "London…"

  "Germaphobe or control freak."

  "I'm sorry?"

  "You asked me to help you by giving you an assessment of their orders."

  "Right. I did."

  "Well, this one is a toss-up. What's she going to do with the twins? Wrap them in plastic or berate them for not following orders?"

  "Good question. London, I'd like to apologize for last night."

  London leaned against the counter, and he fell deep into the sea of green looking back at him.

  "We disagreed. People disagree all the time, then they talk and make up. It's fine."

  "Is it?"

  She tilted her head to the left and shrugged. "I hope so. Does it mean you'll at least think about talking to Dally?"

  "It means I'm sorry I took my upset with him out on you. That's all." The history between him and Dalton was just that—between them. London need not be involved.

  London shifted to go back to making Prudence's order. "I can handle that. We're not there yet, are we?"

  "Not just yet."

  She nodded. "Well, you know where I stand on forgiving Dally."

  "I do."

  She nodded again and took a deep breath.

  "So, uh, do you want me to mess with Prudence by taking off the wrapper just so you'll see how she'll respond?"

  Cooper couldn't hold back the chuckle that emerged at the thought. "I triple dog dare you to do it."

  London shared a grin with Cooper before she gleefully ripped off the plastic wrap. Cooper turned to follow her back across the room when his phone buzzed with a Wilmington-area number. The temporary nanny?

  London set the naked mug on the table in front of Prudence.

  "Here you go."

  "Excuse me. What did you do?"

  "I brought you an organic soy latte heated to 140 degrees."

  His phone buzzed again and he slid his thumb across the screen to take the call, listening in on the conversation at the table with complete interest. "Bale."

  "You took off the wrapper. I told you not to remove the wrapper until you brought it here to the table. Can't you follow simple instructions?"

  "My apologies." London grabbed the towel hanging from her apron string and wiped off the handle.
"Is that better?"

  "No, it's not better! Who knows what you've done with that rag you just used, and now it's spread all over my handle. How do you run a business?"

  "Cooper," a woman asked in his ear. "Is this Cooper Bale?"

  "It is. Who is this?"

  Prudence stood, holding her hands in front of her like the coffee mug was going to jump out and bite her with all of its microscopic germs.

  "I'll make you another."

  "I don't have another cup. Why couldn't you simply follow instructions? Leave the wrapper on the handle. Is it that hard to understand?"

  "I'll get you some plastic wrap," London said in a reasonable tone.

  Cooper caught London by the arm as she turned to walk past him and shook his head. "It's fine."

  "This is Marilyn Hewes-Bale, your— Dalton's wife. Please don't hang up. Dalton's in the hospital. In ICU. It's bad, Cooper. He's been sick for some time. He wants to see you. You and the twins, in case he doesn't make it. Please just… consider it. I’m begging you."

  "Cooper? Are you all right? Who is that? Something with the twins?"

  "Hello?” Prudence said. “I'm not finished talking to you."

  Cooper held his hand over the end of his phone. "The interview is over. Thank you for your time."

  "But… we didn't even get to talk because of her mistake." To London, Prudence said, "Do you see what you've done?"

  London ignored the woman and placed her hand on his arm, concern etched in her features. Who is it? she mouthed.

  "What hospital is he in?"

  London's expression changed to one of understanding as Marilyn gave him the name and address.

  "Cooper, please hurry," the woman said, voice choking on the words before she ended the call.

  "What is it? What's wrong? Did something happen to one of the twins?"

  He shook his head, tried and failed to rein in his racing thoughts.

  Prudence gathered her purse and glared at London but left the contaminated mug on the table as she stalked out the door, muttering the entire way about following instructions.

  "Cooper, you're scaring me."

  "Dalton's in the hospital. He's asking to see me and the twins in case he doesn't make it." London's hand flew to cover her mouth at the news, and he saw the pity and empathy in her eyes. "Do you know how many times I wished that man dead? Now here it just might happen."