Linda Goodnight - Winning the Single Mum's Heart

Blame it on the insulin reaction, blame it on the romantic swirl of bridal lace and the clink of champagne glasses, but Natalie could no more resist dancing with Cooper than she could conduct the Boston Pops.

After all, what he’d said was true enough. Her glorious creation was being whittled to nothing as guests came back for seconds, murmuring over its deliciousness. There wasn’t anything for Natalie to do until the reception ended except enjoy the compliments.

Cooper’s strong fingers clasped her much smaller hand against his chest. She felt the rhythmic beat of his heart, noticed the hard contours of his athletic torso. Though she tried not to think of Cooper as an attractive man, with the number of interested female glances coming his way as a constant reminder, she was failing miserably. She resented the feelings. Resented the reminders that she was a passionate woman alone. Especially she didn’t like the idea of betraying Justin’s memory with his once close competitor.

“Tell me about your new job,” she said, frantic not to notice Cooper’s muscular thighs brushing hers or the tingle of awareness that rushed from her own thighs upward.

He gave her a lazy smile. “I’m boring. Tell me about you.”

Boring? She doubted there was anything boring in Cooper’s life.

She, on the other hand, was quite ordinary and content to be so. A Friday-night poker game with the other Wedding Belles, a little gossip, Sunday afternoons in the park with her kids.

“Working. Taking care of my girls. Not much else.”

“And the cakes?”

“Oh, yes. Lots and lots of cakes.”

“Sweet,” he said and they both laughed.

“How, or perhaps I should ask why, did a diabetic choose to be a cake decorator?”

“Fairy,” she corrected.

“Ah, yes. Cake fairy.” His eyes twinkled. “It suits you.”

“My girls think I should wear a Tinkerbell costume with wings and a tutu.”

A wicked gleam. “Now that I’d like to see.”

“I’ve actually thought about it. For kids’ birthday parties, I mean. They would love it.”

He laughed down at her and something low in her belly reacted. She hadn’t felt this way in more than two years. Feminine, attractive, womanly.

The shock of it caused her to misstep.

“Sorry,” she said as a blush warmed her neck and cheeks. Hopefully, Cooper would blame the stumble for her sudden fluster.

“No problem. You need to rest anyway after that insulin reaction. I shouldn’t have kept you out here so long.”

As if reluctant to break contact, he held on to her hand and led her toward a white linen-clad table. Still stunned at her unexpected reaction to his very male nearness, Natalie followed without resistance.

“Something to drink?” he asked.

As she sank into a chair, she nodded. “Water would be great. I’m hot.”

Cooper inclined his head with a wicked smile. “I’d have to agree.”

Her flushed skin grew redder. How long had it been since she’d even thought of herself as an attractive woman? As a hot babe?

“Go away, Cooper,” she teased, trying to laugh off her sudden discomfiture.

He laughed, too, but did as she said, returning in a very short amount of time with their drinks. “I wanted to try your cake but it’s all gone.”

“Even the groom’s cake?”

“Every crumb. You must be a great cake fairy.”

Before she could think of a witty comeback, Cooper’s cell phone chirped.

“Excuse me,” he said as he reached inside his jacket and drew out the instrument. “Dr. Sullivan.”

An amazing transformation happened before her eyes. She’d seen it with Justin. Cooper’s face, animated, teasing and maybe a tad flirty a moment ago became a study in serious listening. The brilliant mind behind the playboy smile kicked into high gear.

“Call Dr. Francis. Ask him to assist. I’ll meet him there in twenty minutes.”

He snapped the phone shut and slid it inside his jacket.

“A patient?” Natalie asked.

He nodded and pushed back from the table.

“Sorry to break up the party. It’s been great seeing you again, Natalie.”

Natalie experienced a frisson of disappointment. “It was good to see you too, Cooper. I hope all goes well with your patient.”

He tilted his head, whipped around to leave but turned back just as quickly to hand her a business card. “Call me. We’ll get together.”

With that he was gone, straight back and wide shoulders slicing through the crowd with a confident air until she lost sight of him.

She gazed down at the card bearing his address and phone number in a bold confident font.

Call him? Call a man who’d rattled her self-imposed moratorium on male-female relationships?

Not likely.

CHAPTER TWO

“GOOD case, Dr. Sullivan.”

Seated on a narrow chair in the doctors’ lounge, Cooper lifted one foot to remove the protective shoe coverings. The scent of coffee, too long on the burner, filled his nostrils. His stomach growled but the stale doughnuts on the sideboard held no charm.

He peeled off the blue shoe cover and tossed it into the trash before nodding to the dark-haired female. “Yes, it was. Thanks for your help.”

“A pleasure.” Dr. Genevieve Pennington was a member of Children’s Cardiac Surgical and as such one of his associates. She was also a skilled surgeon as cool under pressure as he. Now she tarried in the doorway of the physicians’ lounge, fiddling with the clasp on a green alligator handbag.

“Some of us are headed to the country club for a drink. Care to join us?”

Cooper glanced up at the attractive doctor, wondering if the invitation was business, pleasure or both. Never mind. He was tired and feeling strangely let down though he couldn’t say why. He loved his work and the surgery had gone better than expected. Normally he enjoyed an active social life, as well, and Dr. Pennington was single, attractive and smart. In the weeks since he’d joined the practice, she’d dropped other subtle hints that he couldn’t miss. They had plenty in common, but he wasn’t sure a fling with a colleague would benefit either of them in the long run.

He shook his head. “Rain check?”

Disappointment flickered briefly on the doctor’s face. “Sure.” She backed out of the lounge, one hand on the door handle. “See you tomorrow.”

“Right—6:00 a.m. atrial-septal defect. I’ll pop up and say hello to the patient and his mother before I head home.”

Home. A town house in East Cambridge. Beautiful, well appointed, empty.

Cooper blew out a tired and somewhat depressed sigh. He didn’t really want to go home. Maybe he’d drive out to see his parents. Or maybe not. He wasn’t up to facing Dad’s dissatisfaction today. Oh, the old man never came right out and said anything, but he’d made his feelings clear. Cooper hadn’t followed his father’s lead. He hadn’t gone to Harvard. He’d chosen medicine instead of politics. Everyone knew the blue-blooded Sullivans were shoo-ins for public office, and with Cooper’s charisma he could have risen to the top. Or so his family thought.

He’d never managed to convince his father that he wasn’t cut out to hobnob with people he disliked, and he wasn’t much on kissing babies. He just wanted to save their lives.

Cooper rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, tense from the five-hour surgery, tenser still from the ongoing knowledge that he’d let his parents down. He’d thought coming back to Boston might help ease the constant feeling of discontent, the need to reach higher and higher, but if anything, being near his family had made it worse.

Quiet settled over the usually busy lounge.

For years he’d strived to be here in this place with these physicians doing this work. All afternoon he’d battled death and won, giving a future to a four-year-old with malformed heart valves. In another place or time the boy would never have lived to adolescence. Now he’d be an old man with grandchildren on his knees.