Page 24 of Cooper

He pulls me to him and kisses my head. “Truth is, I don’t know what I’ve done without you, darlin’.”

I wrap my arms around him and let myself cry. I want so badly for this to work. I want so badly to tell him everything, but I’m so afraid that it will ruin everything. No matter how much he loves me, he won’t want to hear the truth. It’s horrible. It’s unbelievable. It’s what I am faced with and nobody else. And if I tell him, then I’m risking danger to everyone, but especially to me and Bean. I’d never forgive myself if I did any of those things. But I’ll also not forgive myself if I do anything to jeopardize the love I have for this man. It’s such a double-edged sword. And I can’t wait until the day that that fateful phone call comes to me, telling me that it’s over.

Chapter 9

Cooper

Idid it. I told her I love her. I’m half fearful and half relieved. Fearful because of Jenkins, and me hiring him through Colton, to look into her past. It doesn’t matter that it’s for her own good, and she’ll see that. I’d be pissed if someone who said they loved me hired some goon to nose into my business. But I’m also half relieved, since she said that she loves me, too. Her eyes say that she’s telling the truth. London is no liar. She’s had many opportunities to tell me a lie, but instead, she told me the truth, in that she can’t tell me more.

Some would argue that she is lying to me a lot by withholding the truth, but it’s not the same in this case. We both know that she has good reasons for keeping her secrets hidden. And in my heart of hearts, I know that she’s a good person. So, I know that she means well and is doing her best. I wish I could tell her that I know that she’s part of the Witness Protection Program, and whatever she tells me she can be certain I’ll take it to the grave, but I know that at least she must have orders. Either that or she knows something beyond what she should, and the only way to keep herself and her child safe is to keep it hidden. No matter what.

It breaks my heart watching her leave for work. Who knows what she was in her previous life. She could have been a doctor or a lawyer for all I know. It seems like such a waste. But a necessary one at least for the time being. London deserves so much better. There is no doubt in my mind that she’s smart and loyal and very hard working. It just sucks that she can’t shine in a better life. I kiss her goodbye one last time and walk her to the door. The sparkle in her eyes matches mine. She’s so beautiful it makes me ache.

“I love you.” I tell her, testing the waters. I never thought I’d be the type to say that aloud, but it feels so right with her. Problem is, I don’t know if she’s the type to do that as well. But there’s only one way to find out.

“I love you, too.” She says back. The sparkle is still in her eyes, so I know it’s genuine and not just a knee-jerk reciprocation.

“Feel free to wake me up when you get home.”

She tilts her head. “Cooper, you need your sleep. And I’ll follow Colton home, so you don’t need to worry about me arriving safely. We already discussed this.”

I purse my lips together into a small smile. “What if I want to stay up and wait for you?”

“How are you going to teach my baby and all those other kids to sing and play instruments tomorrow if you’re too tired?”

“I’ll get all the sleep I need when I’m dead, darlin’. I’d much rather stay up and wait for you.”

She chuckles. “Fine. Did your mother ever tell you that you listen like you’re deaf?”

I smile at her, giving her one last kiss. “Go on. Get out of here, before you’re late.”

I wish I was playing tonight. At Mingles. But there’s almost never a gig on Monday nights. Sometimes mid-week, but Monday and Tuesday, if we have a gig, it’s very rare. So far, this week, I’ve got nothing until Friday night. So, it’s just going to be me and Bean while London works. She’s asked Blake to give her any shift he can, so she can earn back the money she lost for her deposit that she can’t get back, since she hit the road in the middle of the night, leaving her landlord with no notice. I argued up and down with her, telling her that she doesn’t have to pay me rent, but she’s having none of it.

The kitchen is lonely without the girls in it. But I head in there, making Bean’s lunch, so that London doesn’t have to do it in the morning. I also prepare something for breakfast, as I chop up some fruit, and pre-make some pancake batter. I’ll get Bean up before she wakes up London, and get her ready for school, so that my girl can sleep. It’s the least I can do, since I’ll be the one getting all the sleep tonight, while she works until two o’clock in the morning. She probably won’t get home until at least three o’clock, since they do all the clean-up before they lock the doors for the night.

Bean is such a good kid. She stays in her bed and doesn’t move a muscle all night. I try like hell to stay up, but once midnight hits, I surrender and get to bed, thinking that maybe London will wake me up when she gets home. But when my alarm goes off at seven o’clock, it’s just me in the bed, and I find her snuggled up next to Bean. As I go into the room to wake the angel up, she must hear me, because she lifts her head. “Cooper? Is it time to get up?” She whispers, half asleep.

“It sure is. If you’re hungry, I can make pancakes.”

“Can I help?”

“Sure, you can. I can’t make pancakes without a little help.”

“Come on, then.” She whispers, getting out of bed. London doesn’t move. She’s like a burrito in the bed, all snuggled up. I miss her, but it breaks my heart to think about waking her up, for my own selfish reasons.

I close the door behind me, so we don’t wake her, and I hear Bean hiss, gushing. “Oh my gosh! You have Christmas tree shaped pancake things!” She says, referring to the molds I have.

“I do. You don’t want to use them, do you?” I tease, using a playful voice.

“Can we?”

I smile. “Well, of course, we can. That’s why I pulled them out for you.” I tousle her hair and she giggles.

As I pull the non-stick griddle closer to the sink, Bean takes the hint, placing the mold on the smooth surface, and helps me pour the batter inside. Then she places the other one next to it, and we repeat the process. “So, what do you think of the name ‘Bean’, anyway?” I ask her, conversationally.

“Well, mommy always calls me that, and once, some mean kid found out what my real name is, and do you know what she said?”

“What did she say?”

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