Chapter 22
COOPER
Present day
I’m trying to slide on my suit jacket and quickly navigate the last few stairs at the same time. I want to make sure I’m there when Stephanie shows up for breakfast. I arrive in the kitchen slightly out of breath and practically tripping over myself.
“She’s not here.” My mother’s voice is calm.
“Who?” I do my best innocent eyes.
“Do I look like an idiot?” My mother skewers me with a look. “The woman you’ve been half in love with for the last year and a half.”
“Mom!” I scan the entire perimeter with Navy-SEAL efficiency, making sure Stephanie is nowhere in sight.
When I see the coast is clear, I literally clutch my chest as if I’d suffered a heart attack.
“So help me mother, if you do that again, you’re going to put me in the ground.
She could have been walking in when you said that! ”
“I’m not that dumb, Coop.” She looks up. “She won’t hear me because, like I already said, she’s not here.” She takes another bite of her oatmeal. “She left about twenty minutes ago.”
“She’s gone?” My entire body deflates.
“Yep. She was leaving me a note as I was coming into the kitchen.” She looks toward a folded piece of paper on the counter next to her.
I grab it and scan the words. “She said she had some things she needed to do before the meeting today.” I must look comically dejected that the note didn’t also say anything like, Please tell Mallory I really enjoyed our talk last night, because when my mom looks up, she laughs a little.
“Don’t worry, lover boy, she’s going to stay here the next few nights, so you’ll still have a chance to get some kissing time in. ”
“Mother!” This woman will be the death of me.
She laughs some more as she stands up. “Sweetheart, you’re such an easy target right now.” She puts her bowl in the sink, comes over to wrap her arms around my middle, and looks up at me. “For what it’s worth, I think she’s fantastic, Coop. I can see why you’ve been so smitten.”
“Thanks.” I wrap my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.
“You okay this morning?” She reaches up and rubs the crease between my eyes.
“I’m a little jumpy after that disastrous dinner last night, and I was hoping to see her this morning and gauge what she might be thinking.”
“It wasn’t a disaster.”
“Do you want me to list the reasons why it was? I could start with ‘She thought I was dating my own family’ or ‘I spilled water all over her.’ Which would you like?” I give her a sardonic smile.
“Coop, you’ve been wondering since the day you met her why she treats you differently.
” She breaks our hug and gets eggs out of the fridge.
“You have all the answers you’ve wanted now—plus: one, she was wrong about you, two, she knows it, and three, you have a clear path to finally get to know each other.
If I were you, I’d be thrilled about last night.
” She smiles and starts cracking eggs into a bowl.
“You’re right.” I let out a slow exhale. “I’m having a hard time trusting it this morning.”
“Trusting what?”
“Trusting that things might be different. Stephanie and I talked last night after you went to bed, and it was easy and friendly—and even a little flirty at times. It has me hoping, but . . .” I pause, not knowing how to finish my thought.
“You’re afraid to hope, because you don’t want to get your heart broken?”
“Yes, exactly!”
“When did you talk to her? I was hoping she was going to come in and visit last night, but I never saw her.”
“She was on her way to the main house but sat down to enjoy the flowers and fell asleep by the pool. I was out there jumping when she woke up.”
“And the conversation went well? Tell me about it.” She fires up the gas stove and throws some butter and minced garlic in the skillet.
I think back on the best parts of the conversation, and a zing of new hope shoots through my body.
“I’d say it was the most relaxed she’s ever been with me, which is good.
But there were other things too. When I joked with her, she joked back a little.
I flirted with her, and she didn’t seem repelled—even seemed to flirt back a bit.
It was nice.” I smile and relax down into my chair. “She’s nice.”
My mom’s laugh comes out as a puff of air. “Thanks to the family text thread and all of your photos and stories, I’m well aware of your thoughts.” She pours the eggs into the pan. “It was nice to be able to actually meet her. See if she really was as sweet as you’ve always said.”
“And?” I wait for my mother’s assessment.
“I’d say she exceeded any expectations I had of her. She was so kind with Kaylee and Melodie and so intent on getting to know them better, asking questions about fashion or fitness or anything else they brought up. The girls felt like a million bucks by the end.”
“Yep. That’s Stephanie. And there’s nothing fake about it, either. She genuinely loves people. People always come first with her.”
“Sounds like someone else I know.” She gives me a pointed smile and directs the spatula at me.
“I’m not in her league.” I shake my head.
“But she does make me want to be better. Last night by the pool is the perfect example: as embarrassed as she was, she was worried about me, the guy she thought was super creepy. She apologized over and over until she was sure I was really okay. Our entire exchange by the pool was more than I could have hoped for, but at the same time,” I push out a long breath, “I might be reading more into it than I should.”
My mom looks over. “So what now?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’m a full-grown man acting like I’m back in junior high school with a crush.” I let my head fall into my folded arms and half-whisper to the table, “And I really want her to like me.”
“Do you want some advice from your mother?”
“You know I do.” My voice is louder but still muffled against the table.
“You won’t like it.” I look up as she’s taking the toast out and starting to spread the butter. “Take your shirt off and buy her something ridiculously expensive.” She looks at me like she’s just given me the world’s best advice.
“What?”
“Coop, you have to at some point. Rip off the Band-Aid, and get it over with. She’s known you for over a year—it’s time.” She sounds exasperated with me.
“She thought I was a creep for over a year!”
“Yes, but now that she knows you’re not a creep, she’s going to look back over the last year with a different lens and realize what a nice guy you are.
So it’s time.” She turns off the stove. “My son, you have a great body.” I begin to protest, but she plows on.
“Don’t deny it, you know you do. You’ve never liked it when girls treat you like a tasty bit of eye candy, so you keep your shirt on. ” She slides the eggs onto the plate.
My head drops again. “Please don’t call me eye candy, Mom. No one wants to hear that from their mother.”
“But other mothers aren’t as smart as I am, so I can say it if I need to.
Isn’t it time to take your shirt off? Make sure she’s not going to start paying attention to you for the wrong reasons?
The same goes for your money. It’s time you let her know you’re loaded.
If she shows more interest in your money than in you, then she’s not the one, and you can finally move on. ”
I take the plate of food she hands me, and she begins wiping down the counter. “That’s literally the worst advice I’ve ever heard. I want her to get to know me first—in the hopes that neither of those things will matter to her.”
My mom stops wiping the counter and looks at me.
“She already knows you, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
Give her a few days to figure that out. It’s all she’ll need.
” She stops wiping down the counter and looks at me.
“The only time you ever see her is when you’re visiting Deacon.
At a beach house! And she’s never seen you without your shirt on? ”
I’d never told my mom about waking up with Stephanie in my bed.
My head bounces from side to side, trying to weigh the cost of her reaction if she knew.
“First of all, I swim with a shirt on when women are around. But,” I’ll keep it vague, “there was one time on the island when Stephanie saw me without a shirt on. If you count last night when I was jumping, that’s twice. ”
“Did she treat you any differently? Was she nicer because she liked what she saw?”
I think back to the morning she woke up in my bed. I know she was checking me out—and I’m not dumb, I know she liked what she saw—but having my shirt off did me no favors that morning. “If I’m being honest, due to the circumstances, it made things worse.”
“That’s vague and cryptic and sounds like a good story for another time.” She gives me an inquisitive look. “But if she didn’t fall at your feet when she saw your body, then you’re halfway there.”
“Halfway to what?”
“Halfway to figuring out if you’ve got yourself a woman who will see you for you—not as a commodity or checkbook.”
I mull over her words.
“Coop, do you want to marry this woman?”
“That’s a little premature, don’t you think?” I take a bite of eggs. “I’d at least like to see if there’s something there.”
“Trust me: there is something there. I saw the way she was looking at you last night.”
“What?” I put down my fork. My mother has my full attention. “How was she looking at me?”
“She might have hated what she thought you were, but I guarantee she fights an attraction to you. And it’s more than what you look like.” She shakes her head with a coy smile. “She’s interested, sweetheart. You just keep showing her your winning personality.”
“And while I do that, you think all I need to do is take my shirt off and tell her I’m rich? Again: worst advice ever.”
“No, dear. Take your shirt off and tell her you’re filthy rich.”
After breakfast, I make my way to the 9 a.m. meeting and arrive a few minutes early, trying to ignore my mother’s horrible advice.