Summer Love: The Best Mistake / Impulse

He grabbed a couple of miniature race cars, some of the flotsam and jetsam of boyhood that Keenan had left in his apartment. If Coop knew Zoe as he thought he was beginning to, the toys would be an easier entry than a bouquet of long-stemmed roses.

Jiggling the cars in his hand, he strode down the steps to knock on her kitchen door.

In the laundry room, Zoe slammed down the lid on the washer. “Who is it?”

“It’s Coop.”

She hesitated, started the machine. “Come on in. I’ll be right out.” She hefted a basket of clean laundry, as much out of defense as out of necessity, and went into the kitchen.

God, he looked good. She had really, really tried not to dwell on how good the man looked. So damn male, she thought; the rangy, athletic body, the muscles, the dark, untidy hair, and those wonderful pale green eyes. She wished her heart wouldn’t always stutter when he aimed one of his cocky grins in her direction.

“Hi.” She plopped the basket on the kitchen table and immediately began busying her hands folding socks.

“Hi.” The kitchen was cluttered, as always. She really needed someone to help her organize, he thought. God, she smelled fantastic. “Keenan left these upstairs.” Coop set the cars on the table. “I thought he might be looking for them.”

“Thanks.”

“So where is he?”

“In school.”

“Oh, right.” Coop knew Keenan’s schedule as well as he knew yesterday’s box scores. “You just get in from the flower shop?”

“Mmm-hmm… Business is picking up. We’ve got a couple of weddings. Actually, I could work full-time for the next three weeks, but it just doesn’t fit Keenan’s schedule.”

“What do you mean?” Idly he plucked a shirt from the basket.

“Well, the spring weddings. The arrangements take a lot of extra hands, so Fred asked if I could put in full days for a while.”

“So, that’s good, right?”

“The school Keenan goes to is really more of a preschool than day care. It doesn’t stay open after three. And I have the car pool next week, anyway. Plus, I promised to take him and some of the other kids swimming at the community center on Friday. He’s really looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, he mentioned it.” About twenty times, Coop recalled.

“I don’t want to let him down.”

“So, I’ll do it.”

She looked back up, socks dangling from her hands. “What?”

He couldn’t believe he’d said that. He stared at her for another moment, then shrugged. “I said I’d do it. It’s no big deal. He can hang with me when he gets home from school.”

She tilted her head. “Don’t you have a job?”

“That’s what I call it, since they pay me.” He smiled, finding the idea went down easily. “I do most of my writing here, and he could tag along when I go in to the paper or on an interview. He’d probably get a kick out of it.”

“I’m sure he would.” She narrowed her eyes. Why couldn’t she get a handle on J. Cooper McKinnon? “But why would you?”

He wasn’t sure he had the answer to that, so he punted. “Why not? He’s not that much of a pest.”

With a laugh, she went back to her laundry. “Maybe he’s not, but you forgot the car pool.”

“I can drive. What’s the big deal about hauling a bunch of kids to school and back?”

“I can’t begin to tell you,” she murmured. It was, perhaps, something every adult should experience for himself. “And the swimming.”

“I was captain of the swim team in college. All state.”