Boomerangers: A second chance romantic comedy (Cajun Girls Book 1) -
Boomerangers: Chapter 29
“Mommy, you back!” Kyle calls out the moment I step through the door of Nelly and Neal’s house. The familiar smell of fresh baked cookies assaults my nose as the sound of his bare feet slapping on the wood floor bounces off the walls. My baby rounds the corner at full speed in a pair of Superman boxer briefs, a red cape, and nothing else.
“Hey, Savage. What’re you wearing?” I know it probably should have, but the thought of potty training him really hasn’t even crossed my mind yet, so the sight of him in anything but a diaper is a bit shocking. My heart lurches. He looks like such a big boy.
“Pooper gived me unawares,” he explains, beaming from ear to ear while shaking his little tush.
“Pooper, huh?”
“Yeah, him give me dem for a puhprise.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch a shadow move across the floor drawing my eyes up to find the man in question lurking in the doorway to Kyle’s playroom. His arms are extended above his head, clutching the doorframe. Hot damn. “Well, that was really nice of, Cooper.” My voice sounds higher even to my own ears as my eyes connect with his. A cocky smirk graces his face.
It’s been a few weeks since court, and despite my turning his marriage proposal down, I can’t remember ever feeling closer to Cooper. The way my body comes alive whenever he’s near . . . There is no other feeling in the world like it. My heart is already beating triple time at the mere sight of him.
“Yeah, him give me nem-nems if I peepee in the toiwette.”
“Well, that was really nice of him. Have you been using the potty?”
Kyle nods at the same time that Cooper mouths the word no, shaking his head. “I not gonna pee on myself again, Mom.”
Coop chuckles, ambling over, looking edible in his mussed suit. He’s ditched the tie and undone the top two buttons of his oxford, which is only half tucked into his dress slacks. My mouth goes dry. I want to rip the rest of those buttons open and climb him like a monkey in a banana tree. Oh God, what I would do with his banana . . .
“It’s been a rough one,” he offers, skimming his nose up the curve of my neck, which does little to calm the clenching going on between my thighs.
Chills ripple through my body. “Has it?” I ask breathily. “What, umm . . . What made you decide to potty train Kyle?” A month or so ago, I’d have taken it as an insult and reamed his ass, but I’ve learned that his help is well-intended. Coop isn’t trying to undermine me, and it feels good to know that he cares.
Cooper shrugs. “Just thought I’d like to start taking him places, and, well, diapers, and I . . .” He cringes. “We don’t really mesh,” Coop says, chewing his bottom lip.
He still turns red in the face any time I mention the poop incident. So, of course, I do it at every opportunity. “I’ll never forget waking up the next morning and finding you lathering the bed of that truck in shaving cream.”
Coop’s eyes roll upward and he points a finger at me, a silent order to behave. He clears his throat. “He’s gone to the toilet five times in the hour I’ve been home just to get M&Ms, but he hasn’t actually gotten anything in there. He has however blessed the white carpet,” Coop’s brows raise. “And the bathroom floor.” He holds out two fingers. “Twice.”
“Oh God, what did your mom say?”
He gives me a look that says “What the hell do you think?”
“She cleaned it up and told Kyle what a great job he’s doing and that he’ll have it in no time.”
“Who is this woman and what has she done with the one who used to tan our asses with a—”
“It a wittle bit quishy,” Kyle interrupts, pulling on the bottom of my skirt.
“What’s squishy, Kyle?”
“My weewee. It a wittle bit quishy, Mommy.” Choking, I look down to find him pinching his penis through the front of his underwear.
Oh dear God. I’m feeling feverish as Cooper’s loud laughter booms through the foyer.
“Stop touching it.” I swat his hand away and he brings it right back. “Don’t touch that, Kyle.”
“But it’s quishy.”
“Yes, I know. Just please leave it alone.” Tilting my head, I widen my eyes at Cooper, begging for a little assistance. After all, he is the one who started this.
Coop squats before my son, a fist at his mouth, trying to stymie his laughter. “Savage, you only get to touch it when you go peepee. That’s part of the fun.”
“Cooper!” Shaking my head to myself, I cup my hands over my mouth, trying to hide my laughter. Coop flashes those pearly whites, shrugging his shoulders. He’s so fucking unconventionally perfect. I don’t know whether I want to kick him in the balls or lick his face. I’m momentarily distracted by the slight scruff on his jaw, imagining the way it would feel between my thighs—
“Ohhh.” Kyle nods in understanding, his eyes huge with wonderment. It’s adorable the way he hangs on Cooper’s every word. He freaking idolizes him. I’m not sure if that’s entirely a good thing, but it could definitely be worse.
Suddenly, Coop spits out a laugh, obviously remembering something. “Oh my God. You have to see this.”
“See what?”
“Kyle, show Mom your pocket.”
Kyle looks down, pulling the little flap on the front of his underwear open and shoving his other hand inside.
I nearly fall over. “Did you show him that?”
“Figured it out all on his own,” Coop answers like a proud poppa. “He keeps shoving his little cellphone in there.”
“That’s not cute. It’s gross. Don’t let him do that.”
“The inside is sewn shut. He can’t actually get in-in there.”
Rolling my eyes, I kneel down yanking Kyle’s hand out of his underwear. “That’s not a pocket.”
He tilts his little head, creasing his forehead at me. “Yah, it am.”
“No . . . it’s really not.”
Cooper’s hand wraps around my upper arm, lifting me back to my feet. “Calm your tits,” he rasps into my ear. “He’s only two. It’s funny.” What’s not funny is the way my body is such a whore for this man. I’m pretty sure I need new panties.
My head falls back, resting on his shoulder. The heat of his breath on my neck warms my blood, muddying my thoughts. Fucker. He always manages to make me swoon when I want to freaking deck him. “Please, Coop,” I pant. “He’s bad enough. People are going to think I’m the worst mom ever.”
“Well, I think you’re the best mom ever, and my opinion’s the one that counts.”
I start to say something smart, but hearing his mom’s footsteps, I hurry to straighten myself up before she arrives.
“Who’s ready to peepee in the potty?” Nelly singsongs as she approaches.
Kyle starts bouncing up and down. “Me . . . and I get nem-nems, right, Nana?”
“Of course. Nana’s so proud of her little man.” Nelly smiles at me and winks as she leads Kyle down the hall to the restroom with his little baby hand tucked neatly into hers. The same one that was just in the “pocket” of his underpants. Gross.
“She really loves him,” I say to myself in awe. Nelly shows it constantly in a million ways, and it still amazes me how she’s adopted my child right into her heart and home.
“It’s almost sickening how much,” Coop teases, making me realize I’ve just said that loud enough for him to hear.
“Jealous?” I smooth my hand over his collar.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
His large hands grip my waist, pulling until my chest presses into his. “God, I’ve missed you,” he growls, burying his face into the bend of my neck. He runs a finger along the V of my navy silk blouse.
“You saw me this morning,” I say, giggling. It tickles, but at the same time feels so damn good. I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut glass.
“I’ve missed touching you.” His lips ghost across mine and he squeezes my ass in both hands.
Feathering kisses along his jaw, I whisper back, “I miss you, too, Coop.” My hands fist into his hair, and I give the strands a gentle pull. “But, Kyle could be back any moment.” He blows out a long breath as I force myself to pull away, going against every natural urge I possess. It just keeps getting harder and harder to control myself with this man.
Cooper scrubs at his face in frustration before glancing at the clock on the wall. “What time are you leaving to meet Tate? Do you want me to come with you?”
My whole body tenses at the mention of that asshole. “I’m not. He cancelled . . . again.”
Cooper’s nostrils flare and he shakes his head. “Do the boys know yet?” I don’t miss the way his hands ball up at his sides. He’s angry, and it’s oddly satisfying.
My lips press into a flat line. “No. He sent a message a few hours ago while they were in school and they aren’t home yet.”
“Mind if I take them?” He runs a hand lightly up and down my arm while pleading with his puppy dog eyes. “They wanted to go to that game so bad, and it’s kind of a guy thing, you know?”
My heart smiles, mimicking the one on my face. “Is that your way of uninviting me?” Of course I’m only pretending to be upset. I can’t fucking stand baseball, and the fact that he cares so much about making my kids happy is everything.
Cooper taps my nose with his pointer finger. “You’re a smart one, you know that?”
“Can you even get tickets this late?”
“Can I—?” He scoffs, giving me a stupid look. “Don’t you know by now that I make shit happen?”
My eyes roll. “I’m sorry. What was I thinking?”
“Is that a yes?” He really wants to do this. He cares . . . truly cares for my children. I’ve never had anyone besides Gina and my parents who I could depend on with my boys, not even their own fathers. My eyes well up as I squish his face between my hands, planting a big wet one on his lips. “That’s a hell yes!” A tear slips down my cheek. “Thank you, Cooper. You have no idea how much this means to me—what it will mean to them.”
Cooper kisses the tear from my cheek. “None of that, Princess. We’ll have to leave as soon as the boys get back if we’re going to make it in time. I need to make some calls to secure those tickets and change out of my work clothes. Send ’em with an overnight bag.”
Overnight? I gulp. My throat feels tight. Coop notices the panic on my face.
“Don’t look at me like that. You can trust me, Spence.”
I nod. It’s not about whether I trust him or not, but giving up that control isn’t easy for me.
“The game’s gonna end late and it’s almost three hours away. We’re going to get a room and have beignets at Café Du Monde in the morning . . . maybe hang out in the Quarter for a bit before we make our way back.”
What the hell am I freaking out about? This is Cooper. I should be happy that they’re going with him instead of Tate, not getting all weird about it. “Okay.”
Coop runs a hand through my hair, soothing me. “Call Gina and have a girls’ night or something. Don’t worry about us.”
Lake and Landon left with Cooper a few hours ago, and I’m in the bathroom getting ready to meet Gina at T-Boy’s when I see my momma through the mirror, standing in the doorway behind me. She’s sporting a shit-eating grin and looking at me funny.
“What?”
“You let him take the boys overnight. Does that mean you’re ready to give him a real shot?”
I turn my head for a moment to look at her. “Nothing’s changed, Momma. We’re good like we are.”
“Y’all are bangin’ like bunnies. He’s . . .”
Ouch. My eye begins to water due to the fact that I’ve just stabbed it with the mascara wand.
“. . . potty training your baby, and picking up the slack for that deadbeat ex-husband of yours,” Momma continues. “What’s it gonna take, Spencer?”
Great, now I’ll have to wash my face and start over. I look like a fucking raccoon. “Not this again,” I grumble, reaching for the makeup wipes.
“I’m just sayin’, baby. I don’t know what else that man can do to prove himself to you. Open your eyes before you lose him.”
I glare at my mother. “I won’t lose him, because he isn’t mine.”
Momma reaches out, clutching my shoulder affectionately. “You don’t believe that lie any more than I do. That boy has always been yours.” She takes my wrist, lowering my hand from my face so I’ll pay attention to her. “You’re all losing every day that you keep this up.” My momma’s eyes well with tears. “I know you’re scared, Spencer, but you can’t let this fear run your life, baby. Happiness is right there for the taking. You only need to reach back.”
Bracing my hands on the bathroom counter, I stare at my mother. How can I make her understand? “You know that saying, ‘Don’t try to fix what ain’t broken?’ We’re doing so good right now, Momma, and I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“Don’t you want to go to sleep and wake up in his arms, Spence?” She hugs herself, getting a dreamy look in her eyes. “To snuggle up on the couch watching movies at night after the kids have gone to bed? You could give those boys the father figure they deserve . . . Raise ’em in a home with parents who love each other. They need that more than they need to be sheltered.”
“But what if it doesn’t work out?” My lip begins to tremble. “I wouldn’t survive that, Momma. Not again.” I shake my head. “My boys have had enough disappointment in their lives.”
“You think you’re protecting yourself from getting hurt by playing it safe?” She shakes her head. “I just wish I could make you see that by risking nothing, you risk everything.” Momma places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Really think about it, Spence.”
The thing is, I am thinking about it. In fact, it’s practically all I think about. If it was just me, I’d dive in head first, but the thought of having another man abandon my children is too much to risk. “I will, Momma,” I assure her before turning back to the mirror to fix my now splotchy face.
“Hey. Psst . . . Hey.” Nudge. “Princess, wake up.”
I strain to open my eyes, but the light is like laser beams aimed right at my eyeballs. Oh my God, and the room . . . The room is spinning. Why is Cooper waking me up?
The sound of his laughter is infuriating. It feels like there are jackhammers going off inside of my head. “I’m going to punch you if you don’t go away,” I warn, rubbing my knuckles into my eyes.
“Damn, babe, how much did you drink last night?” Could he possibly be any louder?
Swatting blindly, I connect with a leg—I think—before stuffing a pillow over my head. “Go away, Coop. I’m sick.”
Cooper snatches the pillow, flinging it across the room. “I see that.” The sting of his hand connecting with my ass finally jolts me awake.
“Asshole,” I mumble, wiping the drool from my mouth with my sheet. Such a lady, right? Propping up on the elbow of one arm, I shield my eyes with my other hand.
“It’s past lunchtime . . . Have you eaten anything?”
The mere mention of food has me ready to hurl. My face screws up in disgust. “Stop smiling like that. You’re pissing me off.” And turning me on. Fuck me. No, really . . . please.
His smile widens. “You need food. Go get a shower and let me feed you.”
Reaching out, I pat the bed beside me, searching for Gina, but come up empty. “Where is she?”
Gentle fingers begin to massage my scalp. I think maybe I just purred. “Downstairs playing video games with the kids.”
“Lay with me?” I ask, patting the bed behind me.
“As tempting as that offer is, you need to get up and get some food in you, Spence. You’ll feel better, I promise.”
I have a better idea. “How ’bout you take this Cajun injector here,” I say, gripping the steel rod in his shorts, “and give me a shot of protein instead.” I remove the hand that’s shielding my eyes so he can see me waggle my brows—seductively, I hope.
“Then you’ll get up?” he asks, as if he’s in any position to bargain. A few strokes and he’s at full mast.
“I promise.”
Coop doesn’t put up a fight, climbing over me and sliding beneath the blankets within seconds. He pulls my body backward, molding it to his. The back of his hand brushes the side of my face as Coop pushes my hair out of the way and starts to nibble on the nape of my neck.
He’s getting a little too close to my drunken morning breath for comfort. Squirming, I move his mouth away. “Stay away from my face and fuck me, Coop. I’m nasty.”
He snorts into my hair. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are right now?” Coop teases, sliding my pajama shorts down to my knees. Before I can respond, he’s sliding his dick along my entrance, and I lose sight of all rational thought. His fingers ghost along the sensitive flesh on my inner thigh, and I’m ready to crawl out of my skin. Bucking against him, he slips inside, filling me so completely.
With a hand tugging my hair and the other squeezing my breast, he pumps into me relentlessly. “Fuck, yes,” I moan, feeling better already. That orgasm, girls. I’m telling you, it works every time.
“You like that, Prin—”
The door to my room swings open. Cooper and I both freeze as my mother comes barging into the room.
Son of a bitch.
Coop’s hand brushes my nipple when he pulls it away, and I have to bite down on my lip to keep from squealing.
“Told you she was a mess, Cooper James. I tried to get her lazy bones up three or four times this morning . . .”
She’s still rambling on when she sits on the bed just inches from where Cooper is still buried deep inside me. All I can do is pray that she doesn’t lift the blankets.
“Right, Spence?” Momma asks, and I have no fucking clue what I’m agreeing to. “Uh, yeah, Momma. Sure.”
Cooper moves his hips just marginally, but it’s enough. Oh my God, I’m going to come with my mother in the bed if he doesn’t keep still.
“This room reeks of alcohol, Spencer.” Her nose crinkles. “Go get in the—”
Her hand grips the blanket to throw it off of me, and I grip it like my life depends on it. Holy fucking shit.
Cooper’s body starts shaking with laughter behind me, which is movement . . . and, yeah, I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I shove my face into the pillow, on the verge of orgasm. Trying to hold it in only makes my impending climax more intense. I’m white knuckled, ready to explode.
“I almost had her, Mrs. Elaine. Give us a few minutes. I’ll get her into the shower.” How can he speak to my mother as if nothing’s going on?
Cooper trails a finger up the back of my leg deliberately slow. Every touch is heightened by the fear of being caught. I’m going to kill him.
“What in the hell is wrong with you, Spencer?” Momma asks, her voice getting further away as she takes a few steps back. Oh, thank God. Go. Go, go, go.
I grumble, but it sounds like a moan.
“She’s about to blow, Elaine,” Coop warns, shifting his hips. I gasp, biting down on the pillow.
Well, aren’t we quite the fucking comedian this morning?
“Do you need some Emetrol or ibuprofen?” my concerned mother’s voice calls from the doorway.
“No,” I growl before the door slams shut and that infuriating man behind me gives me the best damned orgasm of my life with just a few strokes.
There’s something to be said for delayed gratification. Holy shit.
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