Lib Novel Page 34
“I suppose.” She poured herself another cup of coffee. “I don’t have to be in until ten.”
He began to eat while thoughts scrambled in his brain. “This is good. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She leaned back against the counter. “Did you want something else?”
“Yeah.” He ate more, hoping eggs equaled courage. Then he put his fork down. It was the ninth inning, he thought, and there were already two outs. “You. I want you.”
She smiled a little. “Coop, I doubt you’re in any shape for that, and I really have to go to work, so—”
“No, I don’t mean that. I mean I do, but not—” He broke off, took a long, deep breath. “I want you to marry me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I think you should marry me. It’s a good idea.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized, he’d been working on this all along. He had it figured. “You can quit your night job and go back to school if you want. Or open that flower shop. Whatever. I think that’s what we should do.”
“Really.” Because her hand was unsteady, she set her coffee down. “Well that’s very generous of you, Coop, but I don’t have to get married to do any of those things. So thanks just the same.”
He stared. “No? You’re saying no? But you love me. You said it. Twice you said it.”
“We can make it three,” she said evenly. “Yes, I love you. No, I won’t marry you. Now I really have to get ready for work.”
“Just a damn minute.” Hangover forgotten, he pushed back from the table and rose. “What kind of game is this? You love me, your kid’s crazy about me, we’re terrific in bed, I even know how to drive a damn car pool, but you won’t marry me.”
“You’re such an idiot. You’re such a fool. Do you think because I didn’t put up a struggle before I fell into your bed that you can have everything your own way? When you want it, how you want it? Well, you’re wrong. And youarea jackass.”
He winced as she stormed from the room. Strike one, he thought. And he hadn’t even seen the pitch.
But the game wasn’t over, he thought grimly, until the fat lady sang.
* * *
Zoe was still steaming when she came home from work. Of all the arrogant, interfering, self-absorbed idiots she’d ever known, J. Cooper McKinnon took the gold medal. Imagine him telling her that marrying him was a good idea, then ticking off all the advantages she’d gain.
Oh, he thought he was a prize.
One day he’s telling her to get any ideas of sneaking him into a relationship out of her head. As if she’d been baiting traps for him. The next he’s taking pity on her and offering her a big male helping hand.
She should have bitten it off.
Not once, not once had he said what she would bring to him, what he felt for her, what he wanted. Not once had he brought up the fact that he could or would accept another man’s child as his own.
She jerked open the front door, slammed it. He could take his half-baked proposal and sit on it.
“Mama! Hey, Mama!” Keenan zipped into the living room and grabbed her hand. “Come on, come on. We’ve got a surprise.”
“What surprise? What are you doing home, Keenan? You’re supposed to be at the Finklemans’.”
“Coop’s here.” He tugged manfully on her hand. “We have a surprise. And we have a secret. And you have to comenow!”
“All right, I’m coming.” She braced herself and let Keenan drag her into the kitchen.
There were flowers, banks of them, vases and baskets overflowing on the counters, on the floor, on the windowsills. There was music, some soft, dreamy classical sonata, on the radio. The table was set, crystal she’d never seen before glinting in the sunlight, a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket. And Coop was standing there, in a neatly pressed shirt and slacks.
“It’s a surprise,” Keenan announced gleefully. “We made everything look nice so you’d like it. And Mrs. Finkleman said we could use the glasses and the plates. And Mr. Finkleman made his special chicken ’cause it’s resistible.”
“Irresistible,” Coop said, his eyes on Zoe. “You, ah, said you didn’t need flowers and candlelight, but I’ve never taken you out on a date. I thought this was the next best thing.”
“Do you like it, Mama? Do you?”