24. Leah
24
Leah
I know Cooper lives with his mother. Which is possibly why I feel the need to bring something with me to this business meeting. With one hand, I hold my pink box with my logo on the front. The one Andrea and I went back and forth on and spent days designing. The one stupid PJ Booker is trying to steal from me. With my other hand, I knock on the black door that leads to Cooper.
A woman opens the door, one too young to be Cooper’s mother. Girlfriend? Why does the word bother me so much? Noooo . We went on a double date not that long ago. That’s not enough time to find a serious girlfriend.
Is it?
“Hi,” I say, head high. “I’m here to see Cooper.”
“Oh.” The woman smiles, opening up the door a little wider.
“Not as a girl. But just a person.” Nice, Leah. “Not that girls aren’t people. Because they are. But this is business, not pleasure. ”
The woman’s lips part into a funny grin, and she breathes out a small chuckle. “Okay. Let me?—”
But a wail cuts her off.
“Come on in,” she says, leaving the entrance and me all together.
I push the door open a little wider with my fingers and peek inside. The woman stands at the back of a small living room, holding a baby while she rocks side to side, making shushing noises.
“Sorry. Did I wake him?” I am completely assuming the him part. But I can see the child’s blue collar, and she’s wrapped him in a brown fleece blanket.
“No.” She scrunches her nose. “It’s time for him to wake up, he’s just being grumpy about it.”
I nod—agreeing to what, I don’t know. I’m the oldest, and neither Caitlyn nor I have any kids.
“I’m Coco, Cooper’s sister.”
“Oh.” I yip loud enough that the little boy in Coco’s arms turns his head, his sleepy eyes spying me. Hey! I recognize that baby. He smacked Cooper in the face over and over again in my shop. It was kind of awesome. “I forgot he had a sister. My sister told me the Baileys had a long-lost sister find her way home, but I…” I give my head a small shake. In my attempt to never think about Cooper Bailey, I never considered it much.
“Yeah, I’ve been home five years now. In some ways, it feels like I’ve always been here.”
“That’s nice.” My heart slows its rapid pace as I peer at Coco. At Cooper’s sister. Man, sisters are great. I love sisters. They are a million times better than girlfriends.
“Are you guys going out tonight?”
“Um, no. Not at all. Me and Cooper Bailey? Nuh-uh.” A humorless, breathy laugh titters from my throat. I swallow, not meaning to be rude. I am sure a lot of women—most women… err, all women besides me—would enjoy dating Cooper. But I cannot be one of those women. “Cooper’s helping me with some work things.”
“Wait, what was your name?”
“Leah Bradford, I own?—”
“The cinnamon roll shop. Yeah, Cooper’s mentioned you.” She grins again, and my nerves rise at the thought of having been discussed. That can’t be good, right? When is being talked about ever good? In my experience, never.
And yet, she’s friendly, her expression kind when she adjusts the baby on her hip. “Let me grab Coop. I think he’s dusting the top of Mom’s kitchen shelves.”
Dusting? Cooper? I can’t picture it. And yet, my mind conjures a picture of Cooper in a little pink apron, one that barely covers his broad chest. I’m not sure they make aprons in Cooper Bailey’s size.
Ten seconds later, it isn’t Coop who meets me in the living room, but an older version of Coco. Beaming with a wide grin, she walks into the room, knowing I’m here by the look on her face. “Leah Bradford. So nice to see you.”
I don’t remember ever meeting Cooper’s mother. I can’t even come up with a name.
But then, I don’t need to. “I’m Lucy.”
“Hi.” I press my lips in on one another. I’m sure my greeting face looks how I feel: bat-crazed nervous. “Oh! I brought you some sweet rolls. One pecan, one orange, one raspberry, and one traditional cinnamon.”
She reaches for the box I’m holding out to her. “Isn’t that sweet of you. I loved the pecan roll Cooper brought me last week.”
“Oh.” My cheeks warm with a blush. “Thank you. I’m so glad. ”
“He’ll be right in. He’s the tallest child I have, which means he gets the tall jobs.” She winks. “Dusting above the cupboards and refrigerator.”
“That makes sense.” I laugh—though it’s an anxious titter, headed nowhere. “My parents have two girls, five foot five and five foot four. My dad is only five foot eight. No one is cleaning the tops of our cupboards.”
Lucy laughs at my poor attempt at a joke. “No one’s seeing them either.”
“True.”
“You can always borrow Coop if you want.”
Borrow Coop. Yep, that’s not helping that nervous twinge in my gut.
Cooper jogs into the room, T-shirt and athletic shorts clinging to his muscular body. Mama mia . I think there’s dust in the tendrils of his dark blond hair—proof he’s been cleaning for his mother.
I bite my cheek. I’ve never seen him so… not put together. It’s working for him. In fact, not put together looks good on Cooper Bailey. Of course it does. In fact, he might look better in a tight T-shirt than he does in a suit.
“Leah, you’re here.”
“And she brought rolls,” Lucy says, holding up my Sweet Swirls box.
“And you’re all buff. And dirty. And—” I gulp, wishing I could rewind the last ten seconds. Back to a time when my mouth was filtered and not giving away how stupidly attractive I find Cooper Bailey–all in front of his mother.
“It’s kind of you to bring something,” Cooper says, saving me from saying more.
Because I had things to say— ripped and tight and fit were all ready to roll off my tongue.
“I already had my quota for the day.” His lips pull up at the corners, and I can’t decide if he’s teasing me or serious.
I swallow and remember who I am. Who cares that I just called him dirty and buff in front of his mother? I plaster on a smile and say, “Well, these are for your mother.” The words come out more at ease than I would have thought. How odd—Cooper Bailey makes me less nervous.
“Your quota?” Lucy asks, her gaze bouncing from me to Cooper.
“Cooper’s helping me with something, and I’m paying him in cinnamon rolls,” I tell her. It’s the truth. She might as well know.
“Oh.”
And then, because I’m all in, I add, “And forgiveness.”
“Forgiveness?” Lucy says, brows hiking up on her forehead.
“Yep.” Cooper doesn’t even backtrack. I kind of expected him to make up an excuse or laugh it off.
But he owns it, and warmth washes over me. It’s then I realize—sure, I’ve told Cooper I’ll forgive him. But I do. I feel it. He’s sorry. And you know what, he didn’t make those memes, he didn’t make me walk home alone, and he didn’t break up with me in front of the school all those years ago.
And being angry at him forever will never benefit either of us.