by Kristy Marie
“With a broken toe?”
She turns and puts a hand on her hip. “Yeah, with a broken toe. I’m a woman, I don’t feel pain like men. I’ll be fine, Closer. I don’t need you to come save me—” She stops and grimaces. “Again. I don’t need you to save me again.”
Why does it send me into a rage that she totally refuses to acknowledge she could use the help? It’s not that I’m some kind of savior, running around and saving damsels in distress, but she’s Pops’s friend, and friends, even the stubborn ones, are taken care of where I’m from.
“I’m not trying to save you,” I grit. “I’m simply pointing out that it would be more comfortable if you just accepted a ride instead of walking with a broken toe.”
I mean, that is what a sane person would do, right? Take a ride?
“I understand, and I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be okay.”
“We’ll see.”
She folds her arms, daring me with a glare. “We sure will. I don’t need—or want—your help.”
But she’s going to get it all the same. “Water your damn tree.” I point to the green coffee can filled with water and fertilizer I bought the other day like a psycho. Who buys fertilizer for a friend of the family’s tree? “I’m tired of trying to keep it alive too.”
McKinley
“How could you?”
Do I care Cooper lives in a nice neighborhood where screaming in the front yard is considered tacky? Do I care that he let me sleep in his guest room another night?
No. No, I don’t.
“I owed you a favor for watching Pops this week.”
I point a finger at his smug face, ignoring the scruff and the smirk. “It was only three games, not a week. Dammit, Cooper! I was only up by two favors!”
I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s how I live my life. Being burned a few hundred times does that to a person.
Cooper shrugs, pulling a white pill from his pocket and swallowing it. “Okay, so now we’re even.”
“Oh,” my voice rises as he gives me his back, walking inside the house, his pajama pants riding low on his hips, “we are so far from even! You put me back in the negative!” In debt!
Chasing behind him, he turns faster than I was expecting. “I helped a friend.”
“Ahh!”
I’ve reverted back to just screaming out in frustration because that’s exactly how a mature, mom-to-be should act. Ugh.
“Keep your voice down.” Cooper grabs me by the arms and pulls me inside his bedroom where, from the looks of it, he didn’t sleep last night.
“Look, I’m sorry. But I wanted you to have reliable transportation.” His gaze settles on my bandaged toe.
“It feels better,” I mutter. “But I specifically said I didn’t want or need your help.” Is he hard of hearing or just stubborn?
“I heard you, and while I don’t understand your rationale, I was hoping to ask you for another favor.”
Oh. “I’m listening.” Anything to not be indebted to this man.
“I’ve been unable to find another caregiver to watch Pops, and we only have a few home games left before I need to travel again.” He scrubs both hands over his face, looking seriously exhausted. “I made my agent and brother a promise that I wouldn’t take Pops with me and cause him to miss therapy appointments.”
“When’s his therapy appointment?”
Cooper waves his hand away. “I made it for when I’m home. The point is, I can’t leave Pops alone while I’m at away games.”
My heart sinks. This is my bestie. “I would stay with him, but I have to look for work.”
“Work for me then.”
I choke on air. “Hell no. I’m not working for you.” Mr. I-Can’t-Respect-Boundaries.
“Why not?” he whispers, his neck flush with color. “You’re currently in need of employment, and I need someone to help me with Pops. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
Shaking my head, I walk to his bed and plop down. “I’m not a caretaker. I don’t know how to do it. What if I mess up?” I mean, he does know who he’s asking, right? I can barely keep Psalms alive. Though, it seems much happier on Cooper’s kitchen table than in Griffin’s back yard.
With eyes the color of a stormy sky, Cooper stalks toward me. At first, I think he’s going to snatch me off the bed, but then he—holy shit—drops to his knees, pushing his upper body between my thighs. “McKinley, I’m begging you. Pops loves you, and there is no one I would trust more. Unlike Cynthia, you’ll look out for his best interest.”
I’ll admit, he is incredibly sexy on his knees, and honestly, those pleading eyes have me wavering, but… “I can’t. I’m sorry. With the baby and just the disaster that I am…” I stop. No need to self-deprecate any further. “I don’t want to let either of you down.”
“I’ll pay for your obstetrician visits.” His eyes hold mine.
“Absolutely not. I won’t let you pay for something that is not your problem.”
He swallows, pausing for just a moment. “Marry me then.”
I spring from the bed, barely registering that I nearly knock Cooper backward. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Let me explain,” he says quickly, knowing I’m about to sprint out of here like an Olympic track star. “I have health insurance—fantastic health insurance.”
“Now is not the time to brag about all the awesome perks professional athletes get, Cooper.” Seriously.
“And,” he continues, as if I didn’t speak, “if we were to get married, my wife could use it for all her obstetrician visits. I already pay for it; therefore, you wouldn’t be taking a dime from me.”
His chest is rising and falling quickly. “Mac, please.”
He called me Mac, and it sounds absolutely adorable.
The workaround is tempting. I bet he has that good insurance with the low or no copays.
“We could get divorced after the baby is born or when you find another job.”
There’s something to be said about Cooper’s tenacity here. “Coop,” I try keeping my voice low, so Pops doesn’t overhear. “You’re a professional pitcher. For all you know, you could meet the next Mrs. Lexington next week at a game. You don’t need to be tied down to me.” Because I got knocked up.
If possible, Cooper’s back straightens even more as his hands grip my knees. “I don’t care about the next Mrs. Lexington. I care about Pops. Please, Mac. I’m begging you. You’re all Pops and I have left. If you don’t agree to watch him, my brother and I will argue, and Pops will have to make peace between us.”
His jaw twitches and his eyes take on a glassy look. “Pops will go back to an assisted living facility, so neither of us will get our way. He’ll stay Switzerland, and I’ll never get to see him because of my travel schedule.”
Damn. Fucking damn. But he’s not finished yet. “I know it seems rash, but I don’t know how many more years I have left with Pops, and I refuse to abandon the man who gave up his career to raise me.”
“You’re cheating,” I tell him, fighting off the tears.
His hands move up my thighs like he’s trying to get closer and pulls me to his body. “Please, McKinley. I’m willing to give up my career to care for Pops, but we both know he won’t stand for it.” He swallows thickly, baring his soul. “If I don’t find a solution this week, I’ll lose him either way—we’ll both lose our best friend.”
I throw my head back, my mind racing as fast as my heart. “Would I need to live here?”
Cooper pauses. “I think it’d look better for the insurance that my wife lives with me in the same house.”
This is insane, but with Cooper’s offer, I could take care of my baby, and I wouldn’t have to sit in my apartment all summer pregnant as hell, and sweating more than enough to water Psalms. But the added bonus? I’d be able to keep my best friend and Cooper. He’s like a mint on my pillow. It looks fancy and smells delicious, but it’ll wreak havoc on my hips.
“I’m messy.” I motion to his b
ed. “Like way worse than you.”
Something like relief shines in his eyes. “I can live with that.”
“I snore too.”
His smile is why women and men alike scream when his picture flashes on the jumbo tron as he jogs across the field to the mound. “I don’t sleep much, anyway.” I flash him a stern look. “You should, you look like you could use a weekend in bed.” That same smile widens, and I realize how it sounded. “Not in bed like that, but in bed, like to do actual sleeping.” Oh my gosh, none of this is coming out right. “I’m sleeping in the guest room. No arguments about that part of our deal.”
He nods, choosing not to comment with his preference, which I’m sure is a big hell no to me in his bed. Men like Cooper Lexington don’t need a growing pregnant woman stealing all the pillows and snoring in his ear while he rests. “I’ll work for free,” I insist.
Those tired eyes narrow. “No.”
“I’m not taking your money, Coop. You’re already kind enough to let me use your health insurance, which, I imagine, will cost you a little more to add me to your policy. The least I can do is hang out with my bestie for free.”
I know a little about insurance from when I researched it on the internet. Single policies are most definitely cheaper than family policies.
“And what happens when you have the baby?” His voice has a hard edge to it. Guess the moody Cooper is back. “You’re just going to walk away after our deal with no money to support yourself?”
How dare he assume I haven’t thought about that. “Of course not! I’m going to find another job. With the money I’m saving by using your insurance and staying here, I can work part-time and save. In six months, I should have a good stash of formula, diapers and all things baby related.” Being broke is not new to me, he need not doubt my savvy abilities.
“I don’t get home until late, and on away games, I’ll need you to stay with Pops all day and night.”
Duh. “I know that. Part-time means working part of the time. I’ll tell my future employer I can only work overnight.”
I swear he chokes on a yell before settling with a gritty, “Overnight? As in the dark without a reliable car?”
“Well, since you had Lu fixed, she’s now reliable. But should she decide she needs another breather, my legs—and all other humans’—work in the dark just as much as they do in the light. I have my wrench, I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry your pretty little head.”
His lips flatten as his hands tighten around my thighs. “You’ll call me or an Uber if you break down.” At least he didn’t insist on me driving his car.
“What is it with you always trying to save me?”
His smile should be outlawed. “It’s what I do for a living.”
“Well, I don’t need the assistance of a closer.” Let’s start a pool of how many times I have to say this exact phrase. “Besides, criminals are scared of crazy people, aka me. I’ll be fine.”
Cooper’s head falls forward where it hangs close to his chest.
“Are you praying?”
“Yes.”
Yes? “What are you praying for?” I’ve never seen anyone pray other than on TV. Call me a little fascinated that this hunk of a man, still on his knees, is actually praying.
“For patience,” he mumbles, his head rising, and his eyes leveling me with a stare that is quite scary. “Because I’m seconds from telling you I don’t give a fuck what you want. You will be walking nowhere, and if I catch you walking anywhere, you’ll be sorry.”
Oh, well, that was unexpected. “What kind of punishments—I assume they will be punishments—would make me sorry?”
He never wavers. “I’ll tell Pops.”
This time, I intentionally shove him, but his hateful self is ready for it. “That’s bullshit.”
That charming and deadly grin emerges once again. “You wouldn’t want to worry an old man more than necessary, would you? Especially once he finds out you’re pregnant.”
“You can’t tell him, Cooper.” The words come out in a panic. “Please, promise me. He can’t know.” His forehead creases and I add, “Not yet, anyway. I’ll tell him before I start showing. Just let me be the one who tells him.”
Cooper’s face smooths, all the lines of confusion disappearing when he says quietly, “He won’t be disappointed in you. No one will be. I promise.”
Like a child, I hang my head. “You don’t know that.” Pops knows I’m financially unstable. Admitting that I got myself knocked up amid all my hardships, doesn’t exactly scream responsible adult who just signed on to take care of him.
I know I told Cooper I stopped caring what people thought of me a long time ago. But that’s only part of the truth. Some people, the really important ones, matter to me. It matters what they think and how they treat me.
I already messed up with Griffin and Brenda. All I have left is Pops. His opinion, so far, is untainted, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m not ashamed I’m pregnant. Well, I guess in a way I am. I know the old stigma of women having babies out of wedlock has all but been eliminated. But it isn’t the same for me.
I sigh, finding this part of our conversation more exhausting than the marriage negotiation. “Just let me tell him, okay?”
After a minute, Cooper nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it.
“I promise, I won’t hurt Pops. I’m gonna tell him, I just want to find the right time.” Clearly, I will grow larger and it will be painfully obvious. But it’s whatever. I can’t change the facts. All I know is Cooper Lexington just offered me a way to take care of the little nugget inside me. We’re going to be okay—at least for now. We’ll worry about later, another day.
“Coop?” A knock at the door reminds us we aren’t alone, and Pops is ready for breakfast.
“We’re coming,” he barks out, giving my knee another squeeze. “We’ll figure it out.”
We won’t. This is my issue, not Cooper’s, but either way, I’ll keep my promise. I won’t hurt Pops. “You—”
“Thank you,” he cuts me off, his gaze filled with humility. “I’ll never be able to repay you for stepping in and living a lie to keep Pops here. It means more than you know.”
I have an inkling about how much it means to him. What grown man, with more money than sense, asks someone to marry him just to keep his grandfather close? A loyal man. A man hell-bent on repaying his grandparent’s sacrifice for him. Cooper Lexington has the money and ability to put Pops somewhere lavish, but he wants him home, with him, for as long as he can. If that doesn’t make my heart swell to the size of both my boobs, nothing will. This man is every parent’s dream. I can only hope I raise my child like Pops has raised Cooper. To know he would give up his career—everything—to take care of his Pops is… Whew girl, don’t go falling in love with this man.
“Well, just so you know,” I say, clearing my throat. “You can change your mind on the offer anytime. I won’t be offended. Well, maybe a little, but I’ll get over it quickly. But I’m sure you can find a reputable caregiver. I can even help you find her.”
“Pops and I want you.”
Pops and I want you.
If that didn’t destroy my heart completely, then him taking my hand, still on his knees, his eyes closing as he kisses the fourth finger on my left hand and asking, “McKinley, will you marry me?” would have finished the job.
“I don’t have a ring, but obviously it’s the first thing I will do tomorrow before the game.”
Something fuzzy warms me from the inside out. So much that it worries me I won’t let this man and his Pops go at the end of my pregnancy. I can’t go through losing another family. I just can’t. “No need in wasting money,” I suggest. “I think I have something that will work at home.” I don’t, but Cooper doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay.” He seems skeptical, but that’s okay. I would be too if I were him. I have no freaking idea what I’ll be able to scrounge up, but this man is too good—too giving—for me to accept a ri
ng that would likely amount to my annual salary. We can get this done cheaper with no one getting attached.
Psh. Who am I kidding? This deal is going to kill us all.
Cooper
“I lied to my sister-in-law.”
McKinley blinks several times, her mouth pulling down into a frown as she stands at the front door of her apartment. “Okay… Am I supposed to say she deserved it or that I’m highly disappointed in you? It’s too early in the morning for me to make big decisions.”
“And here I thought Pops would be the biggest pain in my ass this morning.” Especially when he spent a solid thirty minutes accusing me of calling Ainsley to babysit, so I could, “chase a piece of tail.”
McKinley glares, and I release a breath and try again. She isn’t the only one moody in the morning. “No. That’s not what—” The door slams in my face before I can finish.
On any other day, this would piss me off. But today, I don’t have time to deal with McKinley’s shit, so I charge in right behind her, calling out into the bare living room. Surprisingly, it isn’t full of dead houseplants like the one still sitting on my back deck. “Mac?”
“Go away and come back in a few hours.”
I follow the muffled groans down a narrow hall, coming to a stop and finding McKinley face down on a twin bed. She turns her head when she hears me enter. “What is it with you and not following directions? Seems like pitchers would be good at that kind of thing.”
“What is it with you and slamming doors in your guest’s face? Seems like a stadium hostess would be more hospitable.”
She cracks one eye open. “You’re not a guest.”
“I’m not?”
“No. You’re…” She waves her hand like she’s dismissing me, but I know it’s because she’s still half-asleep and can’t find the words.
“A phenomenal pitcher?” I suggest with a grin. “Patient? Sexy? Prompt?”
She lets out a scoff, which sounds more like a moan. “You know the great thing about being unemployed, Cooper?”
I don’t answer. I’m quite sure she meant the question rhetorically.
