Meant for You

by Michelle Major

  One night, he reminded himself, ignoring the rapidly expanding knot of dread in his stomach. It was only one night.

  “Do you get a real ring?”

  Cooper asked the question around a mouthful of hamburger over dinner that night. Despite how crazy it sounded, her son remained as calm as if he were discussing whether to have strawberry or vanilla ice cream for dessert.

  “No, sweetie.” She pushed her plate aside, her stomach far too jumbled to think of eating. Cooper, at twelve, had the appetite of an NFL linebacker, and she’d made his favorite dinner, grilled burgers and sweet potato fries. Maybe she was trying to prove to both of them that she was still a decent mother, despite getting herself into such a mixed-up situation.

  “I know this whole thing seems strange but—”

  “I get it, Mom.” He dunked a fry in enough ketchup to soak it from tip to tip. “It’s like when Aidan went to Hawaii for spring break.”

  Jenny frowned. “Aidan spent most of spring break sleeping over at our house.”

  “Yeah,” Cooper agreed with a grin. “But he got sick of everyone bragging about their vacations. So he told them his grandparents took him to Hawaii. He Photoshopped pictures of himself at the beach and sent them to the group text. It was awesome.”

  Jenny had certainly been through enough of feeling “less than” growing up, but until six months ago, she and Cooper had lived in a middle-class subdivision on the north side of Denver. The ramshackle property they’d moved to so she could open her garden center had been near enough to the old neighborhood that Cooper hadn’t needed to switch schools. As far as she’d known, her son had been safe from the trappings of status and kids who were all too aware of who were the haves and the have-nots.

  She worked hard to provide for their tiny family but lived simply while she saved for something more. They’d taken a trip to Disney World a few years ago with her mom, but other than that, most of their vacations were spent camping throughout Colorado.

  She had thought all the sacrifices were worth it when a family friend had offered to sell her the house, which was solid even if it needed work. She’d always dreamed of having her own garden center but never thought it would become a reality. But the property had come with a barn that she’d converted to a retail nursery and a greenhouse on the edge of the yard. She’d been so close to finally making it on her own, until life had thrown her a curve ball in the form of her mother’s illness and the fallout from the disastrous financial decisions her mom had made in the confusion of rapidly progressing dementia.

  “Do your friends brag about vacations?”

  “Sometimes.” He dipped another fry. “But I’ve got bragging rights on the loudest burp on the planet. Wanna hear it?” he asked, then swallowed a huge gulp of air.

  She rolled her eyes as he let out a huge belch. “Impressive,” she told him. “Just keep it under wraps when Grandma’s around. Let me make sure I understand. You’re equating me asking Owen to be my pretend fiancé to Aidan creating a fake vacation?”

  Cooper nodded. “Kind of. If Owen gives you a ring, you should sell it, then we can go to Hawaii for real and take Aidan along.”

  “Owen isn’t giving me a ring.” She lifted the glass of water to soothe her suddenly dry throat.

  It had been both amazing and agonizing to see Owen again. As changed as he was physically, there was still something about him that soothed the disquiet inside her, even when he clearly wanted no part of her latest crazy scheme. “Does it upset you at all, Cooper? The fact that I got myself into this mess? Because just say the word and I’ll—”

  “Mom, it’s fine.” Cooper shrugged. “Will my dad be at the reunion?”

  She nodded. She’d gone onto Facebook to check the reunion’s event page. The post hinting at her engagement to Owen already had over a hundred likes. There had barely been that many people in her graduating class.

  Trent had been tagged on a post about the golf tournament, and she’d barely resisted clicking on his name to check up on him again. She’d quickly signed out of her account so she didn’t have to add “Facebook stalker” to the list of stupid things she’d done that day. “I’ve heard he’s coming to town to play golf. But I don’t think he normally spends much time in Colorado, so maybe it’s not true. I’m sure—”

  “Don’t say he’ll want to see me. He won’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Coop.” She picked up a fry and dipped it in his ketchup. “Your father is missing out by not being part of your life.”

  “He has his own family,” Cooper answered quietly. “My half siblings.”

  Jenny wanted to cry at the faint note of pain in her son’s voice. For years, Cooper was satisfied with her explanation that Trent simply wasn’t cut out to be a father. That’s the excuse he’d given her when he’d dumped her a week after she refused his request to have an abortion.

  Then last year, Cooper had searched for him on Jenny’s Facebook account—Trent Decker. He lived in Madison, Wisconsin, and from the photos Cooper had found, he had a pretty blond wife, twin girls who were in second grade, and a toddler son.

  A family for the man who couldn’t handle being a father.

  Jenny had immediately blocked Trent from her account. She’d thought of explanations and excuses to give Cooper for why his father wouldn’t have tried to see him at any point during the past dozen years, yet proudly displayed photos of holidays, vacations, and school events for his other children.

  Did Trent’s wife even know Cooper existed? Cooper had resisted her attempts to talk about what he’d seen, telling her it didn’t make a difference one way or the other. But that seemed impossible.

  It had made a difference to her. She’d also been raised by a single mother and had never known her father. She’d never said it out loud, but there had always been a constant, niggling question in her mind as to why he would have walked away from her and never looked back.

  Her first inclination after seeing Trent’s Facebook profile had been to track him down and call him out on his deadbeat status. Yet there was a small selfish part of her that was afraid she could lose her son if his father ever did take an active interest in him.

  Cooper had been her whole world since the moment the nurse had placed him in her arms. She couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wasn’t with her. But . . .

  “Do you want to meet him if he comes to the reunion?” she asked softly. She forced a smile when Cooper glanced up at her from beneath dark lashes any woman would envy.

  Green eyes—so like those of the first boy she’d loved—stared into hers, as if searching for a way to answer the question without hurting her feelings. From the time he was a baby, her son had been an old soul, watchful and content. While she ran on instinct, so often leaping before she looked, Cooper held back. He was her rock, and sometimes it felt like he was the only thing that kept her moored to the ground. She’d been a kid with a kid, and in many ways the two of them had grown up together.

  Except she was the adult, so it was her job as a parent to dig deep and do the right thing.

  “It’s okay with me, Coop. I won’t freak out. Promise.”

  “He probably doesn’t want to. Why wouldn’t he have contacted us before this?”

  “I don’t know, buddy,” she answered, hating the tears that clogged her throat. The pain in her son’s eyes was ultimately her fault. She’d been stupid enough to fall for the lies of a spoiled teenage boy. Cooper would spend his whole life paying the price. “But if you want to ask him that for yourself, I swear I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

  He idly swirled a fry in the ketchup but eventually dropped it to his plate. “I like Owen,” he said, and Jenny’s throat tightened for an entirely different reason.

  “He’s a good person,” she answered softly. “And really nice to do this for me. But it’s pretend. You understand that, right? Owen and I are just friends.”

  “I know, Mom.” He took a long drink of milk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. �
�Do we have any ice cream left?”

  Jenny popped up from the table. Finally, a question she could answer. “We sure do. Cookies and cream. Let’s eat it straight from the carton and watch Life Below Zero.”

  She ruffled Cooper’s hair as he got up to clear his plate. Her baby was already an inch taller than she was, but he was still the sweet boy who meant the world to her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to take care of him.

  Jenny vowed to handle her night with Owen and the possibility of seeing Cooper’s father with caution and care, even though neither of those words was a normal part of her vocabulary.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “This was a mistake. I don’t need a new dress.” Jenny reached out one finger to touch the rack of beautiful, delicate fabrics in the Nordstrom dress department, then snatched back her hand, expecting some sort of “you don’t belong here” alarm to sound.

  Sam Carlton only laughed and continued to examine the clothes. “Don’t think of it as a dress. It’s like battle armor or a version of magic bracelets you can use to deflect incoming mean-girl bullets.” She picked out one and held it up for Jenny. It was silver satin with a lace overlay above the waist. “This would be gorgeous on you.”

  “It’s strapless,” Jenny said in the same way Indiana Jones might mutter It’s a snake. “What if I go to punch Trent, and I pop out of the top when I swing?”

  “Kick him in the family jewels instead,” Sam replied without hesitation, reminding Jenny why she’d invited Sam on this shopping excursion instead of Kendall or Chloe, both of whom were far gentler souls.

  A saleswoman approached, then gasped when Sam turned to face her. “Oh my gosh,” the woman breathed.

  Sam held one finger to her lips. “We’re just browsing, so I don’t want extra attention today. Sound good?”

  The woman let out a little squeak as a reply. “You’re on a huge poster in the cosmetics department.”

  “Then we’ll avoid cosmetics,” Sam answered. “Thanks for letting me know.” She handed the dress to the woman. “Could you start a fitting room for us?”

  “Of course.” The young saleswoman took the dress as if it were Sam’s firstborn child. “If you need anything, I’m Marcy.”

  “Thanks, Marcy.”

  When the woman walked away, Jenny rolled her eyes. “Does being beautiful and famous get tiresome?”

  Sam smiled. “You’re the star today, Red.”

  While she knew her friend meant it, Jenny didn’t care about being the center of attention. She was comfortable with her grubby jeans and work boots. That was her armor, and the thought of abandoning it, even for a night, made her skin feel like it was a size too small for her body.

  Sam was normally just as casual in how she dressed, and up until a few years ago she’d also been one of the most famous models in the world. She was still a household name, and with her gorgeous mane of honey-blond hair and her statuesque figure, she could wear a potato sack and look gorgeous. But she knew how to rock designer clothes, while Jenny felt as awkward as a pig shoved into an evening gown when she tried to dress up.

  “Seriously,” she muttered when Sam held up a sequined number. “Why did I suggest this? I can wear my bridesmaid dress from Kendall’s wedding.”

  Sam scrunched up her perfectly upturned nose. “Um, no. You are going to this reunion as a big F-you to your past. You are going on the arm of one of the most powerful technology businessmen in the country. You are going to be so smoking hot that the whole place goes up in flames.” Her blue eyes widened and she plucked another dress off the rack. “This is the dress you’re going to wear.”

  Jenny couldn’t help the small whimper that escaped her lips. Even on the hanger, it was the most spectacular gown she’d ever seen. The sleeveless sheath was made of a shimmering green fabric that gave it an iridescent quality. There was lace and leather detailing around the scooped neckline, making it a perfect mix of elegant and edgy.

  “I can’t,” she whispered automatically. A dress like that deserved a woman who was confident and ready to work it. A woman who could shimmy and sashay and walk in heels without falling on her face.

  “Hell, yes, you can.” Sam grabbed Jenny’s wrist and dragged her to the fitting room, lecturing with every step. “It’s your ten-year reunion. Half the women have gotten fat and another quarter of them are probably so Botoxed their eyebrows skim their hairline. You are naturally gorgeous, and you have a body to die for.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Your legs are killer, and they’ll look a mile long with where this hemline hits your thigh.”

  “It will look like I’m trying too hard.”

  “It’s a high school reunion.” Sam gave a little wave to the saleswoman as they entered the dressing room. “Everyone is trying too hard.”

  She shoved Jenny into the stall where the gown she’d first chosen had been hung. “Forget the other one.” She held out the hanger. “Start with this. I’m going to get the saleswoman to bring up shoes.”

  “I hate heels,” Jenny argued.

  “Not as much,” Sam said, raising a brow, “as you’re going to love Owen’s reaction when you’re wearing them.”

  Jenny bit down on her lip. “I’m not choosing an outfit based on what Owen might think of it,” she lied. “He’s doing me a favor, nothing more.”

  “You know you want him back.”

  “He’s never going to take me back.” Jenny hugged the dress closer to her chest. “I cheated and publicly humiliated him.”

  “I’ll agree with the public humiliation,” Sam answered. “And it was monumentally awful on your part. But we both know you only made it look like you were cheating.”

  “Perception is reality,” Jenny countered. “Owen doesn’t realize that I purposely sabotaged what was between us.”

  “Because you refused to tell him.”

  Jenny shook her head. “I’m a bad bet, Sam. He deserves better . . . more than I could give.” Her feelings for Owen had made her feel crazy and out of control. At the time, it seemed like the only way to regain her sanity was to force him to realize she didn’t deserve him. But as soon as she’d seen the excruciating pain that filled his gaze, she’d realized what a horrible mistake she’d made.

  Once again her doubts and fears had gotten the best of her and she’d acted without thinking. She was nowhere near worthy of a man like Owen. It had seemed easier to force the inevitable breakup than to prolong the relationship when she’d found herself falling more in love with him every day.

  She didn’t trust love. Love had screwed her over and left her out to dry. Thanks to both a father who hadn’t wanted to know her and the boy who’d callously broken her heart, it was difficult for her to separate love from pain.

  “Even if I wanted him,” she told Sam, “I don’t want a relationship. I’m not cut out for committing to anyone except Cooper.”

  “Bullshit,” Sam muttered with a fake cough.

  Jenny snorted. “You were the same as me not too long ago, Cover Girl. Don’t act like you’re an expert on love just because you’ve managed to pull your head out—”

  “Ask Trevor,” Sam shot back, a mischievous grin curving her lips as she mentioned her husband of almost a year. “He’ll tell you all the ways I’m an expert.”

  “I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Jenny said, and swung the fitting room door closed.

  She was glad for the happiness Sam, Kendall, and Chloe had found in love, but it was sometimes difficult to be the third wheel three times over. It wasn’t that she was envious of her friends. Jenny knew she wasn’t built for falling in love.

  Until Owen, she’d been content with her simple life, working and raising her son. Owen had been different. They’d started as friends, but somehow he’d slipped by her defenses and become more. The “more” was what scared her. She’d made a life on being satisfied with “enough,” training herself not to want or expect more. Unwilling to risk any more of the deep hurt she felt from being rejected by the father she never k
new.

  She stood there a moment, staring at herself in the mirror. Pulling out her ponytail holder, she shook her head so that her thick copper waves fell over her shoulders.

  She leaned closer and searched for additional freckles across the bridge of her nose, but the sunscreen she wore religiously seemed to be doing the trick. While she was nowhere near Sam’s level of beauty, Jenny knew she was pretty enough in a pixie-cute kind of way.

  But she’d worked hard to be taken seriously in her career, and much of that had involved downplaying her femininity. Now she thought of herself as one of the guys just as much as anyone else she knew did.

  She turned away from the mirror, undressed, and then slipped into the sparkly gown, its silky lining soft against her skin. Adjusting the zipper, she turned back around and drew in a shallow breath.

  For a moment she saw herself the way a stranger might. Sam had been right—the dress was incredible. Although her curves weren’t generous, the fabric clung to them in a way that was downright provocative. As she pivoted in the small fitting room, the fabric shimmered, radiating shades of luminous greens depending on how the light caught on it. The hemline stopped just above her knees, showing off her toned thighs and calves, strong from years of hauling landscaping materials.

  If the men on her crew saw her walking down the street in this dress, she doubted any of them would recognize her. She barely knew herself, and suddenly, it made perfect sense that this was the dress she had to have for the reunion. Call it armor or her F-you outfit, wearing it made her feel different. Stronger.

  Hell, it made her want to shop for a whole new wardrobe, and that was quite the accomplishment.

  She walked out into the hallway and found Sam waiting for her.

  “Holy shit,” her friend murmured. “I knew it.”

  The saleswoman stepped up behind Sam. “You look like that mermaid princess from the movie.”

  Jenny fidgeted, feeling color rise to her cheeks. “I’m not a princess. Not even close.”