Chapter 8
COOPER
“Mr. Cooper, am I doing it right?”
I eyed the line of blue paint Mehki had just rolled onto the wall. We’d been at it for thirty minutes. Lil Man wanted a step-by-step instruction before he would even dip the roller into the paint. “Looks good to me.” I gave him a high five. “Make sure the lines are straight.”
Mehki nodded. “Okay.”
Construction was almost complete. The painters were spread out over the house, moving through each room efficiently. But this room, which would soon be Mehki’s, would be last because I promised him I would teach him how to paint.
“Wow,” Angel said, entering the newly renovated space. “Looks so bright in here.”
She stepped over to us and brushed the top of Mehki’s head. Bending low, she let Mehki tell her all about our process. Angel, the woman, was already a site to behold. But Angel, the mother? Every time I saw her with her son, I felt my heart squeeze in my chest. She was perfection.
It had been a couple of weeks since we’d had a weekend alone, but that hadn’t stopped me from taking advantage of every private moment between us. I couldn’t get enough of her, the way she smelled, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her skin against mine. Those hips, her legs, her face. Every part of her seemed made especially for me. I wanted to conquer her, stake my claim, mount my flag. But the closer we got to the completion date, the more I feared all of it would vanish. That the bubble around us would pop.
I still hadn’t made the decision to work at Prescott Holdings, but I had continued to make inroads with my father. I’d even attended several company meetings, telling myself that it was just to study the lay of the land—in case I decided to stay.
Prescott-Hayes had thrived under Preston’s day-to-day leadership, and I had no doubt he didn’t really need me in Detroit on a full-time basis. But still…Can I walk away from it?From her?
Yet, it wasn’t just her I’d be walking away from if I decided to go back to Detroit. The boy standing next to me, his brow furrowed in concentration, had worked his way into my heart. He reminded me of myself at that age, always inquisitive, always questioning. He deserved to be happy. But did I deserve him?
“Cooper?” Angel called. She stepped into me, bumping her hip against me. “You good?”
My gaze dropped to Mehki. His short height prevented him from completing his lines, so I’d gone behind him finishing each row of paint as he made his way down the wall. I topped off his line, and glanced back at Angel. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She eyed me skeptically. “Sure?”
I reached out to touch her, but she dodged me. It was typical for her to avoid any prolonged displays of affection in front of Mehki. I understood it. After all, she was his mother, she protected him fiercely, and we hadn’t made any promises to each other. We both agreed to just see where things would lead.
“See, Mommie!”
Grinning, Angel said, “You’re doing such a good job, babe.”
“Mr. Cooper told me to go slow, so I’m going slow.” He turned his attention back to the wall. “I have to be careful.”
Covering her smile, she said, “Okay, son. You got this.” She met my gaze and murmured, “At this rate, you’ll be done by September.”
I snorted. “We’ll be done tomorrow. The real painters will take over very soon.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “Good.”
Holding out my roller to her, I asked, “Want to give it a try?”
“Nope,” she chirped.
“Hello?” I recognized the voice immediately, coming from downstairs.
“We have company,” Mehki said, running out of the room.
“Don’t run!” she shouted after him. A cute crease formed on her brow and I brushed a thumb over forehead. “Who is it?”
I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Come on. I want you to meet somebody.”
Dallas was standing at the base of the staircase, talking to Mehki. When she spotted me, she smiled. “Hey, punk.”
Shaking my head, I said, “What’s up?” I gave her a hug.
