The Rebel (The Millionaire Malones Book 3) (12 page)

‘Did you have play fights with your brothers?’

‘Sure, all the time. And you know what else I used to do?’

‘No. What?’

‘I used to hide under my bed, too, when I was a little tacker. You see, sometimes I used to get really, really angry at my brothers, especially my big brother, and I would slide under my bed and no-one would find me for hours.’

‘I’m no good at hiding.
Mommy found me right away.’

Cooper smiled at Maggie, and she felt her bottom lip quiver.

‘It’s a special mommy super power. They always know where their boys are.’

And now there were tears in her eyes, too.

Cooper sat next to Maggie. He found a hand in her lap and wrapped his fingers around hers. Now she really was going to cry.

A tear rolled down Maggie’s cheek, and she didn’t want to hide
it from Cooper. All this hiding from him was exhausting. ‘It’s hard when Cooper goes away, isn’t it?’ she said softly.

‘I get lonely when Cooper’s not here. I don’t want him to go away anymore.’

Maggie squeezed Cooper’s fingers right back. ‘Me neither. But he has to go, Evan. That’s his job.’ Maggie pulled her hand from Cooper’s. She’d hit the nail on the head. It was his job to fly all over
the world, no matter how much she and Evan wanted him to stay. He could never stay. He could never be a permanent part of their lives. That was the cold, hard reality.

She sighed. ‘I really need your help at the market. We need to buy some food so Cooper has something delicious to eat for dinner.’

She was so aware of Cooper next to her, his hands now clasped together tightly, whitening his knuckles.

There was a pause. ‘I can’t come out yet. Fizzy’s crying.’

‘Poor Fizzy,’ Cooper said. ‘Tell him that it’s okay to cry, that he shouldn’t feel embarrassed about that. Tell him that I cry, too.’

‘You do?’

‘Hell yeah.’

Maggie’s knee nudged his thigh.

‘I mean, of course I do. When I hurt my knee, I cried. It hurt real bad.’

There was a rustle under the bed and they looked down. Evan had slipped
his head out and was looking up at them.

Maggie got up, tugged Cooper’s hand and supported him as he got to his feet. ‘When Fizzy’s stopped crying, sweetie, why don’t you come and find us. Okay?’

‘Okay, Mommy,’ whispered Evan’s little voice and Maggie bit her lip. She returned to the kitchen to wait for her son.

*

Evan finally agreed
to walk down to the Farmer’s Market with Maggie so it was just the two of them navigating the crowds down on Del Mar, perusing tables full of fresh produce on a stunning, Southern Californian day. Evan was chomping on a banana and had slipped his little hand in hers as they sauntered along. A surge of familiar love and emotion flooded Maggie. This was how they’d been for so many years. First,
with Evan in his stroller and now, walking along at her side. These moments with her son were so precious, and she was acutely aware that one day he would slip away. First, he’d rebelled against being confined in the stroller. Soon, he wouldn’t want to hold her hand in public anymore. Then he would begin walking two steps behind her. And after that, he wouldn’t come at all and he would go off to college
and fall in love with someone from the East Coast or Texas or Florida or somewhere else far, far away and never come to see her and she would be all alone.

And she didn’t even have a cat.

She would be all alone. ‘I’m a lonely child,’ Evan had told Cooper. Although it had been a five year old’s slip of the tongue, was Evan really lonely as well as being on his own? And as for her, was she lonely,
too? Maggie couldn’t wallow in those kind of feelings. It seemed like an indulgence to be thinking about being lonely, and she was way too busy for that. If it wasn’t Evan, it was work and the chores and his after-school activities and her clients and precious, precious sleep.

And now, it was Cooper.

‘Mommy?’ Evan tugged at her hand.

‘What’s up, sweetie?’

Evan had mashed banana on his cheek.
‘Can we go home now? Cooper might be waked up from his nap, and he promised me some more Foggy Leghorn.’

She smiled down at her precious boy and her heart grew just a little bit more with love for him. He had a big heart for a little boy and she hoped, like all mothers do, that it would never be broken.

*

The rest of
the day passed
in a happy blur. Maggie got stuck into the household chores, which flew by so much quicker with Evan ensconced on the sofa with Cooper, happily playing board games. Cooper seemed to have some kind of magic touch. Evan had never wanted to play checkers with her. While she was mopping in the kitchen, Evan had helped Cooper with his physical therapy, holding his hand and walking patiently by the big
man’s side while he stepped gingerly up and down the hallway to exercise his leg. The sight of it slammed Maggie so hard she had to duck her head back in the kitchen to wipe away her fast tears.

For dinner, there was spaghetti and meatballs, Evan’s favourite, and the three of them ate in the living room, like an indoor picnic, while they watched some of the cartoons Evan was beginning to love.
Maggie decided that Evan’s delighted giggling was worth every second of it. As the credits rolled, Maggie checked her watch. It was time for a bath and bed for her little man. Cooper pointed the remote at the screen and it went to black. Without a word of complaint, Evan jumped to his feet.

‘Time for my bath now, Mommy. C’mon!’

Maggie and Cooper watched him stride off purposefully. She wondered
if it was physically possible for him to have grown up in just forty-eight hours. ‘Did you hypnotise my son or something?’ she asked Cooper distractedly.

Cooper shrugged. ‘We had a deal. He got cartoons if there were no complaints when it was bed time.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Boy, am I going to enjoy having you here at bedtime.’ And as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Maggie realised
what it must have sounded like. ‘You know what I mean.’

Cooper’s direct gaze lit the spark on those firecrackers again. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

*

Her little man
had been asleep for a good five minutes but Maggie wasn’t ready to leave him just yet. She sat on the edge of his bed, watching him breathe. His room was in darkness,
save for the night light plugged into the power socket on the wall by the door, which provided just enough light to keep the dragons away. She loved this quiet time, when Evan was asleep, when she could stroke his hair and watch him sleep, his breathing sweet and regular, like a heartbeat. And there was another reason she found this such a place of solitude: Cooper. Going out there meant facing him
and that was becoming more and more difficult the longer he stayed.

Finally, her bursting bladder made the call for her, and she slipped away from Evan and went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she found Cooper in the living room, standing by the mantelpiece, leaning on it to take his weight. The overhead light was dimmed and the TV was off. A chilled bottle of wine sat on the coffee table,
with a glass for Maggie already poured.

He noticed her looking at them. ‘Thought you might like a drink.’

‘Thank you.’ Maggie took a sip before joining him. She knew that he was going a little stir crazy from sitting so much during the day, so she didn’t want to make him feel awkward by sitting on the sofa by herself. And anyway, standing there, with the photos of Evan, Cooper and her mother
in their silver decorative Spanish-style frames, seemed like neutral territory somehow. The sofa would have felt like a date.

And this was so not a date.

Cooper looked at the photos then looked at Maggie. ‘Nice shots.’

‘Thanks. I got the frames in Mexico.’ She chuckled. ‘In 2008. God, that feels like a million years ago.’ She looked down into her wine.

His gaze became more direct. ‘I noticed
you don’t have a photo of Vance up there.’

The simple mention of his name made her uncomfortable. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ Cooper asked, dipping his chin and moving closer to her.

Maggie gripped her glass. They’d never had this conversation before, about his best friend and what he’d done—or not done—for Evan and Maggie. She always figured Cooper didn’t want to take sides and she understood that. She’d
only contacted Vance that one time; he’d told her he wasn’t interested in being a father, ‘But I’ll send you some money and we’ll be good, right?’ She’d torn up the cheque when it arrived six months later.

‘I decided a long time ago that it would only confuse Evan. He’s never met his father. I’ll leave it up to him to decide if he ever wants to, when he’s older. He’ll be curious I guess. But
I don’t want him to be disappointed either. It’s not like Vance has ever shown any interest, so …’

She heard Cooper’s sharp intake of breath. ‘No.’ And then he turned away and muttered something under his breath, which she could just make out. Something that sounded like
stupid bastard
.

‘Look, I know he’s your friend and everything—’

Cooper’s head shot back around. ‘He’s no friend of mine,
Maggie.’

‘But I thought … that night we all met.’

‘I haven’t seen him in about five years.’

Maggie was confused. She remembered, clear as a bell, the way they’d been with each other in Bali. Like brothers. What had happened to their friendship? Cooper didn’t seem inclined to discuss it any further and she didn’t want to talk about Vance anymore, so she moved to the sofa and sat down among the
throw pillows, hoping it would help steer the conversation in another direction.

‘How’s the leg tonight?’ she finally asked, glancing at his knee. Well, okay, she skimmed down his tight T-shirt, past the bulge in his baggy shorts, over his muscular thigh and then she found his knee. She was a born-again virgin, not a saint.

‘It’s been better today.’ He wasn’t looking at his knee and she knew
it.

‘When are you seeing your doctor to get things checked out?’ Maggie asked.

‘Wednesday morning.’

‘Do you want me to take you to the appointment?’

‘No. Thanks. Alfie’s coming by to pick me up. We’ve got some business to discuss so we’ll be having lunch after I see the doc.’

Maggie laughed. ‘Your manager is buying you lunch? There must be a big deal in the wings for Alfie to open his wallet.’

Cooper chuckled. ‘Yeah, I forgot you know that about him. But, you know, the guy’s always got my back, so I don’t mind.’ He smiled and she tried not to melt, tried not to wish it were for her. ‘And he can afford it, you know. I am one of the world’s highest paid surfers. I even have surfboards with my name on them.’

She could hear he was mocking himself, in that laconic Australian way she’d grown
used to, and smiled up at him. ‘And don’t forget the wetsuits.’

‘Yeah, those too.’

Maggie dropped her eyes to her wine, stared into her glass as she swirled the honey-coloured liquid around in a circle. The conversation had reminded her that they knew a lot about each other, as friends did. As good friends did. She knew that he worked the laid-back surfer image to the media and to the surfing
community, but away from the competitions and the trophies and the success he’d been investing in start-ups and had created jobs in the apparel and surf industries, both here in San Clemente and back home in Australia. He’d long been working on a plan for what would come after his career in the water was at an end.