Snowed Under (Aspen Peaks #2)

8. Cooper

T he flowers in my hand looked awful.

In my defense, the last time I’d bought flowers was for my high school prom date, and even then, they were kind of ugly. How was I supposed to know what was “in” corsage-wise, though?

I’d spent the last three days trying to figure out another option for this magazine thing. Last night I stayed up imagining myself telling Brandy and Chase that I was indeed not married. But I just couldn’t do it. Not after Chase had texted me and said Can’t wait to meet the Mrs. and I had responded with She’s a fine one to meet. How was I supposed to recover from that? I always did this kind of stuff to myself. Pops used to say it was a self-destructive mechanism. I couldn’t even disagree with him.

I didn’t have the time to find another girl to agree to the charade unless I went up to an absolute stranger. Madeline was still the best choice, since she technically had kids. Plus, she was a knockout. And she knew me.

She knew me. God, I felt so stupid. The girl had brought food to my house, food that I’d eaten every single delectable bite of, and I’d my memory had been completely wiped of her. To be fair, the few months after Pops’s death were all one big, hazy blur of skiing, gorging on food, and self-hosted pity parties. Still, I was irritated with myself.

For the last two days, I’d hoped I would run into her at the lodge. I started looking around the lobby and extra spaces I knew she’d been assigned to, and still, nothing. Finn had one thing right. I could have grabbed her number from the emergency contacts list. But that felt even more stalkerish than my other interactions with her.

I’d already walked around the lobby, conference rooms, and locker areas looking for Madeline when I finally turned the corner into a little side area with a giant fireplace and floor-to-ceiling windows that highlighted the view outside. That same sage green cleaning cart she used the other day was settled on the far back wall.

I took a few steps into the room, craning my neck, looking for her, but I only saw a small toddler sitting on the edge of the windowsill. She had short blond hair and a soft smile on her face. She was holding an Elsa doll, making her jump from side to side while she hummed. I looked around for her mom, but as I got closer, I found a tall, curvy figure a couple of feet away, dusting the side of the fireplace.

I smiled to myself and cleared my throat, watching Madeline turn my way.

“You brought an assistant today.”

Madeline looked down at the little girl, who was slowly moving away from me inch by inch, and sighed. “Yeah, my mom had a last-minute doctor’s appointment, so the princess is with me today.”

She had a niece too?

I turned to the kid, who was now standing, and took her in. She had to be younger than three. Maybe barely two. “What’s your name?”

The short stack furrowed her brow at me and shook her head.

“She has a bit of a speech delay, and she doesn’t really love people. But this is Piper,” Madeline explained.

I hummed. I was used to being around kids with speech delays because of my mom’s job. Nothing I couldn’t work around. I usually talked enough for the both of us.

I bent down and grabbed a single flower out of the bouquet I’d brought before extending it her way like a peace offering. I smiled. “Here you go, dear. Never met a girl who didn’t like tulips.” Also never offered tulips to a girl, but that could remain unsaid.

Her tiny, chubby hand took it hesitantly before she backed up a couple of feet. My smile grew at that. “You’re a tiny thing, aren’t you?”

Madeline responded on her behalf. “Yeah, she’s short for her—”

“I not tiny,” Piper said, speaking up for herself. Rather loudly, actually. Madeline and I both pulled back an inch, her in amazement, me in terror.

“Wow, that was very good talking, Pipes,” Madeline praised while she set down the little fluffy duster. “Let me see if I have an M&M for you.” She turned to walk toward her purse and cleaning supplies in the corner. Madeline bent over at the waist and dug through her items with her round butt once again swaying directly at me, like it had a homing beacon to stick out wherever I was facing.

I turned back to the kid, fully prepared to make some kind of comment about the Elsa doll in her hand, but stopped when I saw a scowl on her mostly innocent face.

“I not tiny,” she repeated in a low growl that sounded so menacing for such a small human.

I looked back to Madeline, who was still preoccupied, mumbling “I swore I put them in here” and “this bag is way too big” to herself.

I turned back to the toddler. “You sure?”

“You tiny.” The nerve this kid had to point at me as she said it.

I reared back. “Listen here, half-pint—”

“No. You half-pi.”

Speech delay, my ass. “Nuh-uh-uh. I’m six-five.” I pointed back at her. “You are the half-pint.”

“You half-pi,” she insisted.

“Here they are!” Madeline declared before coming back with a couple pieces of chocolate for the tiny person in front of me. “Great talking, bug.”

Piper smiled at her, an instant switch from the gremlin I’d just seen. And when Madeline turned to grab her duster again, Piper shot me another death stare and pointed from her eyes back to me. Holy crap, this kid was terrifying. Also, what is she watching to learn these things at such a young age? I would question her upbringing, but then again, her brother was an absolute delight.

As soon as Madeline turned back to us, Piper was back to playing with her Elsa doll.

“So, did you need me or something?”

I looked down at the flowers in my hands and shoved them toward her a little too forcefully.

“I just wanted to bring you these.”

She looked at the array of white and pink in her hands and smiled before looking over at Piper anxiously. As if she was scared she would notice, she scooted a few feet away from the little girl.

“Oh, thank you. They’re beautiful.”

Good, I think so too. Let’s pretend to be engaged for a day or two. What do you say? “I’m glad you like them.”

“Is this because of the…magazine thing?”

I shook my head, but it turned into a nod. “Mmm, no…” I paused. “Yes.”

She sighed and set the flowers gently on the mantel. “I am so flattered that you thought of me, really. But I meant it when I said no. My life is more than a little complicated right now. I don’t really have space for anything like that. Believe me, my mom’s been trying to get me to go out for years, and I just can’t make it happen. Not like that.” She looked at Piper and saw she was distracted, so she lowered her voice. “No dates.”

“This doesn’t have to be a date.”

“You would tell them we’re engaged, at the very least.”

“Friends can get engaged.”

“Cooper. I barely even know you.”

“But you said you know exactly who I am.”

“Fine.” She fought a smile but lost, the corner of her lips lifting. “You barely know me.”

I counted on my fingers. “I know you have a really cool nephew and a kind of terrifying niece. I know you are friends with Olive Branch. I know you smile when you are nervous, or actually, I think you smile like that all the time. It’s cute.” She smiled at that. “And I know you like tulips.” I pointed to the half-wilted flowers on the mantel.

“That is barely scratching the surface—”

“Then give me more. Come on, shoot it my way.” I jerked my chin back.

“Coop—”

“Fine, I’ll start. My name is Cooper. I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little. I am awfully fond of the Shrek 2 soundtrack, and I love the smell of the post office. Your turn.”

She sighed, but with that twisted smile that felt like she was holding back a bigger smile, then said, “Fine. My name is Madeline. I’ve always wanted to be a nurse. I am awfully fond of that soundtrack as well, and I love the smell of the lumber section in the hardware store.”

“Nurse, Shrek, lumber. Got it. What else?”

She went back to dusting around the flowers she’d set down. “I think that’s all you need to know, considering I’m not going with you.”

“Please, Madeline. Come on. Give me one more round.”

She squinted at me, and I kept going. “Fine, I’ll give you one. I like the feeling right before I get a sunburn, when I’m all warm, and my skin is barely pink, but it doesn’t hurt yet.”

The chuckle out of her felt like triumph on my end.

“Give me one more, Madeline.”

I smiled as her round cheeks blushed. “I like to be the first person to light a new candle.”

“Oh,” I nodded. “Candles, yes. Good one. Okay, next.”

Madeline sighed. “Sorry, Coop. I’m swamped,” She gestured to the room she was cleaning, then to Half-Pint staring at us both. “I mean it.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll keep looking. But if you change your mind, my number is on the tag of the flowers, all right?”

She looked back at the card. “I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

I started to wave goodbye to the kid on my way out, but Half-Pint gave me the I’m watching you stare. I shivered and ran out of the room as quickly as possible.