Page 10 of Craving Cooper

The property is enormous… much bigger than I’d expected, and when the house itself comes into view, I can’t help but whisper the word, “Wow,” which makes Cooper chuckle. The style of the place is Colonial, painted in pale gray, with white window frames… of which there are plenty. “I guess Mitch Bradshaw made a lot of money playing football,” I whisper.

“Yeah, and then he bought this place.”

“He didn’t build it?”

“No, but rumor has it, he screwed the interior designer who fixed it up for him.”

I turn to face Cooper. “Did he sleep with every woman he met?”

He laughs. “Probably, knowing Mitch.”

He parks his car in front of a double garage, behind a silver Lexus, and waves to Brady, who’s stacking furniture into the back of a truck that’s parked over by the house itself.

“I guess we’d better go help,” I say, unfastening my safety belt, but he grabs my arm and I gasp. Not that he seems aware of my response. He’s too busy biting on his bottom lip and looking worried.

“Before we do, I need to say, can you keep all of that to yourself?”

“All of what?”

“Everything I just told you… about Laurel and Mitch. Like I say, most people here don’t know the details of what happened. I’ve never spoken to anyone else about it.”

“Not even Meredith?”

He looks at me like that’s about the dumbest suggestion he’s ever heard. “No. It’s not the kind of thing we’d discuss, but either way, I don’t think Brady and Laurel would want it spread around the town.”

I pull back slightly, feeling a little hurt. “I’m not a gossip, Cooper.” He frowns, shaking his head. “I’d have thought you’d know that about me by now.”

“Yeah… sorry.” He looks so contrite, I have to smile, and he smiles back. “Are we okay?” he asks.

We? He can’t mean what I hope he means by that, can he? Of course not. He’s just checking he hasn’t offended me… so there’s no need to over-react, or over-interpret.

I nod my head. “We’re fine, Cooper. We’re just fine.”

He doesn’t reply but gets out of the car, and rather than wait for him to come around to my side, I open the door and climb out myself. I’m more than capable, and besides, he’s busy checking his phone, which he puts back in the car before joining me.

“Is everything all right?” I ask.

“Yeah.” He nods his head and, without touching me, leads me toward Brady, who’s standing at the back of the truck now, his eyebrows raised as he looks down at me. “This is Mallory,” Cooper says, and Brady nods, offering his hand, which I take in a firm shake. “She offered to come help today.”

Brady smiles, glancing at Cooper, although his eyes soon drop to me again. “That’s kind,” he says. “Especially as you don’t know us.”

I’m about to say that I don’t mind in the slightest when a woman appears at the door of the house. She’s tall, slim, and wearing jeans and a pale pink blouse, her blonde hair tied up in a ponytail behind her head. At her side is the most adorable little girl, who has slightly blonder hair, and is clutching a teddy bear, like her life depends on it. I guess this must be Laurel and Addy, and as they step out, coming toward us, Addy notices me and tries to hide behind her mom, clearly feeling shy.

“This is Mallory,” Brady says, talking to Laurel more than Addy, I think. “She’s come to help.”

“Oh?” Laurel looks from me to Cooper, smiling, before she turns her attention back to me again. “Do you wanna come inside? I’m still trying to finish packing things in the kitchen, and I’ll take any help I can get.”

“No problem.”

I follow her into the house, and while I’d love to tell her how beautiful it is, I decide against it. Considering the history, and that they’re leaving to start afresh, it wouldn’t be the most subtle thing to say.

“I’m sure Cooper and Brady will find plenty to do outside,” she says, turning to face me as we enter a vast kitchen with an island unit in the center, although it’s covered with boxes. In fact, the entire room seems to be a mass of packing cases and Laurel turns to me, one hand resting on her hip, while she rests the other on her daughter’s head. “It feels like we should be ready… and yet there still seems to be so much left to do.”

“Just give me a box and point me at something to put into it,” I say and she smiles, stepping forward and handing me one of the boxes from the top of the island unit.

“If you could deal with the cabinets in the corner,” she says, pointing. “They’re mostly full of things we’re not gonna keep, but it all has to be packed away, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine. I can cope with that.”

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