Winning the Single Mum's Heart

As she shut the dishwasher with her foot while adding food coloring to six different bowls of frosting, Lily let out a yelp just as the doorbell chimed. Natalie jumped, splattering red down the front of her sweater onto the top of her foot.

The doorbell ding-donged again.

Rose streaked into sight. “I’ll get it, Mom.”

“Don’t open that door,” she warned.

Too late. A blast of artic air sucked the warm, toasty fragrance of caramel pecan cheesecake out into the frigid Saturday afternoon.

“Rose!” she yelled, frustrated that her daughter could never remember to peek before opening. A serial killer would have no problem gaining entrance into this house.

She came around the row of tables piled with her baking tools just as Rose remembered her instructions and tried to shut the door again. A gloved hand shot out, palm up, to brace the door open.

A jolt of concern raced up Natalie’s back. That was a man’s hand. Black leather gloves. No fingerprints.

Rushing now to protect her child, she stumbled over the basket of clothes in the living room and pitched forward, catching her hip on the coffee table.

“That’ll leave a mark,” a deep voice said.

She looked up to find Cooper Sullivan now inside her house, once again sliding an arm around her waist to lead her to a chair. She felt small and helpless and protected.

“This is starting to be a habit.”

Natalie didn’t like feeling helpless. Been there, done that.

“This is starting to be ridiculous,” she said, scowling at Rose. “Shut that door, Rose Isabella, and go to your room.”

The two names rolled off her tongue with ease. She’d said them far more times than Lily Alexandra.

Rose obeyed, her look of chagrin indicating she knew when to make an exit.

Natalie needed to rub her hip bone but not in front of Cooper. What was he doing here, anyway?

“Cooper,” she said, through gritted teeth. “What a surprise.”

A low rumble of laughter. “Maybe I should have called first.”

“Maybe.”

“I could leave.”

“No, of course not. Don’t be silly.” It wasn’t his fault her heart was beating too fast and she’d made a fool of herself in his presence—again. “Take off your coat and have a seat. I’ll be recovered in a moment.”

She gave up and rubbed the smarting hip.

“You’re going to have a bruise,” he said as he slipped out of his coat and draped the long garment over the back of the couch. “Want me to have a look?”

Raising her eyes, she shot him a glare intended to melt iron. He laughed. “Maybe some ice instead?”

“I don’t have the patience to sit still that long.”

“Still the fidgety type?”

“My teachers called it hyperactive.”

He chuckled again and she relaxed the slightest bit. Seeing Cooper brought back a lot of memories and not all of them were bad. In fact, most of them weren’t bad. That was the biggest problem with having him show up at her house looking all handsome and manly. Well, that and the lovely dreams.

“How did you know where I live?”

He shrugged. “I called your boss.”

“Belle would never give out my personal information to a stranger.”

“She saw us dancing together at the Craggins’ wedding.”

“Oh.” Belle had better not be playing matchmaker. She knew Natalie didn’t date, hadn’t even considered dating since Justin’s death. Now that she was an independent woman, she planned to stay that way.

“Don’t worry. I told her we were old friends.” He tilted his head toward her. Melting snowflakes glistened in his black hair. “We are still friends, aren’t we?”

Now she felt silly and downright inhospitable. “Of course we are. It’s good to see you again.”

Really. It was. If only she didn’t have this bizarre chemical reaction every time he came near. At the Craggins’ wedding, she’d blamed it on an insulin reaction, though she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind even when her blood sugar was perfectly normal. Today she had no excuse at all. But she wanted an excuse because the alternative meant admitting that Cooper made her…feel things.

And she didn’t want to…feel things.

The heavenly scent of caramel cake once more wafted through the house. Thank goodness.

“Excuse me a minute, Cooper. I have to check my cakes.” She hopped up, maneuvering around the basket and toys.

Cooper followed her into the narrow kitchen, his masculine presence filling the room. Natalie tried not to notice. No male in her age range had ever been in this kitchen.

“Don’t let me interrupt anything. I just came by to…” His voice drifted off as his gaze fell to her feet. “You’re bleeding.”

“I am?” She looked down at the red liquid sliding between her toes and started to giggle. “Doctor, that is not blood.”

She grabbed a paper towel and wiped her foot clean. “See? All fine now. The miracle of being a mom. We can turn blood to food coloring.”

“Thank goodness. I was beginning to wonder how you survive alone.”

He’d meant it as a joke, so Natalie tried not to be offended, but the words were exactly the kind of thing Justin would have said. She was fragile, sickly, unable to take care of herself.

Tempted to ask why he’d tracked her down, Natalie instead said, “Would you like some coffee?”

“Sounds good if it’s already made. Don’t go to extra trouble.”

“I always have coffee going on a cold day.” She poured him a cup and handed it to him. “And soup in the crock pot.”

There was something deliciously unsettling about having Cooper Sullivan in her kitchen. He gave her the willies, in a good way. Not that she was interested, but any woman would notice Cooper’s looks and class and overt sexuality, especially a woman who had barely even thought about sex in two years.