"Hello." Her voice sounds like she ran to the phone.
"Hey, it’s me," I say, and I wait for the little butterflies to start or to feel anything for her, but nothing comes.
"Yeah, Cooper, I have this thing called caller ID," she grumbles, and I shake my head. There she is, the woman who makes me want to gouge my eyes out.
"My father just called me and gave me the dates for the family vacation in late June, early July," I start to say. "I was hoping I could have the girls for the full two weeks."
"I was thinking of taking them for the last two weeks of July anyway," she states. "So I think it should work."
"That sounds good," I confirm, wondering where she’s going. I want to know, not for her but for my kids. "I’ll FaceTime the kids tonight after dinner, and I’ll pick them up tomorrow night."
"The girls told me that your parents came down." I don’t say anything. I didn’t really tell her. I dropped the girls off at daycare Monday before leaving. To be honest, the only time I talk to her is when she picks up the phone when I FaceTime, and even then, she lets the girls answer. We communicate via text when it has to do with the girls and daycare, but other than that, we have nothing to say to each other. If we didn’t have kids, I don’t think I would even think of her.
"They did," I say, not sure why the fuck she cares at this point. It’s not like she went out of her way to get to know them. "Came down Friday and left Monday."
"They had a good time," she replies, and I can feel there is more she wants to say. "The girls said that Erika slept over," she notes, and my body goes tense.
"And?" My voice comes out cold.
"It was just a surprise, is all," she says, and I’m livid.
"A surprise," I say, laughing bitterly. "You didn’t give a shit when I had to live with Erika after you served me with divorce papers. Blindsiding me.” My tone curt. "I don’t know why you would suddenly start to care."
"Whatever, Cooper," she says, her voice eating at my stomach. "Send me the dates, and I’ll put it on the calendar." She doesn’t even say goodbye before she disconnects.
I toss my phone onto the passenger seat as the anger leaves my body. When I get to my condo and unpack my shit, I see it’s almost six. I grab my keys and head out, stopping to get food on my way over. Only when I pull into the driveway do I think that I should have called her to make sure she was home.
I get out and carry the food with me. Looking around the neighborhood, I see a couple of kids outside playing on their bikes.
Pressing the doorbell, I look down, and I hear her footsteps. "Coming," she says, and a smile fills my face when she opens the door. She stands there in a cropped tank top, showing off her toned stomach and matching loose shorts. Her hair is tied on top of her head as a smile fills her face. "Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over.” She holds the door, watching me. "What a nice surprise," she says softly, making me happy that I came over here.
I hold up the bag in my hand. "I brought you dinner."
Chapter 8
Erika
He holds up his hand, and a smile fills his face. "I brought you dinner." He stands there with blue shorts and a Dallas shirt. His hair is pushed back, and his blue eyes look like they are sparkling.
"Then you may enter," I say, moving out of the way for him to come in. He walks in and bends to kiss my cheek. His woodsy smell is all over me. "When did you get back?" I ask. I knew he left on Monday, and he did text me on Wednesday, but it was just a picture he took on Sunday.
"About an hour ago and then," he says and then looks at me, and I can see he has something on his mind. "I don’t know, I just …"
"I might need wine," I say, knowing there is more to the story than that. "Do you want to eat in or out?" I ask. "Not to sway your decision, but I did start the fireplace outside and put on this week's episode of Sister Wives." I hold up my hands as if to weigh the decision.
He shakes his head. "I can’t believe you still watch that show," he teases, walking past my winding staircase that sold this house for me and into my big kitchen.
I put my hands on my hips and stop in the middle of the way. "You are a damn liar if you tell me that you don’t watch it anymore." I walk past him over to the massive fridge and pull it open, seeing it’s half empty. I grab the open bottle of white wine and a glass, then head over to the sliding patio door. "I have beer and stuff outside."
We walk out and go to my covered lanai on the right. The brown wicker sofa with comfy beige cushions is L-shaped. It faces a stone-covered wall that has the fireplace on the bottom and the television on top of it. "What did you get?" I ask him, setting the wine down on the table in the middle, and then sit and curl my feet under me. I grab the throw blanket I have out here and wait for him to answer me. "It better be something good. I’m starving."
He sits next to me. "Before you complain, I’m going to add that you were not cooking yourself anything when I got here. So …" I glare at him as he takes out two containers. "Grilled maple salmon." I smile and clap my hands happily because he knows it’s my favorite. "With mashed potatoes and a side salad." He pulls out two more containers.
"You’re my favorite," I say, and he hands me the container. "But if you ask me that publicly, I will deny it until the bitter end." He laughs, and I look at him, grabbing his own. "I forgot forks.” I start to get up but he beats me to it. I watch him walk inside the house, and my heart feels weird in my chest.
"You know what you need?" he says, coming out and closing the door behind him. He sits down next to me, handing me a fork. I take the plastic lid off the meal. "A dog.” His eyes light up, and I look over at him.
"You know what you need?" I counter him, pointing the fork at him. "A house, and then you can get your own damn dog." He throws his head back and laughs.
"I do need my own house," he admits, grabbing his own meal. "And maybe a dog."
I look at him as I take my first bite of salmon. "You better not even think that I’m going to watch that thing when you go away. There is a line in this friendship, Cooper Grant, and pets are it."
"You would do it for me.” He is so full of himself as I glare at him as he chews his own mouthful. "Because you love me, and I would do it for you."
"Love … hate … it means the same," I say, and he chuckles. "Now, not that I don’t like when you come over and bring me dinner. Especially after not seeing you for a couple of days.” My stomach is suddenly getting tight, thinking that I haven’t seen him since Sunday. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" I ask, and the food suddenly doesn’t look appealing to me.
"Do you think I loved Julianne?" he asks softly, and I look at him.
"What do you mean?" I question and see that his eyes are on his food, so I know his mind is going a million miles a minute. "You had to have loved her to create two amazing little girls," I say and set my food on the table. "But were you in love with her?"