Pushing the memories aside, she tried to smile, reminding herself that she was a strong woman forging a future here. “Yes, I’m fine.” Other than being horribly embarrassed. “I just—”
“It’s okay.” With a gentle touch to her arm, Joy said, “I’ve been there a few times myself.”
Phoenix sincerely hoped Joy had never gone through anything remotely like what she’d suffered, but then again, there were a variety of troubles to go around, some less in severity, some far, far worse.
Despite the craziness of the night and the raging storm, Joy looked as cool and elegant as ever. Her long hair was undisturbed by the humidity, and her chic sleeveless dress was soft and fresh.
Next to her, Phoenix felt like a sack of dirty laundry.
“Can I get you anything?” Joy asked. “Maybe a drink?”
Phoenix rushed to say, “I came over to help you, not take up more of your time. I should probably warn you, though, I’d be better with the kids than with adults.”
Joy watched her a second more before smiling. “That would be wonderful, thank you. Follow me.” She turned and led the way to a slightly separate area where more than twenty kids sat at very low tables with paper plates, glue sticks, uncooked pasta and washable markers.
Joy paused next to her son, a cutie with pale blond hair and big brown eyes. “Jack, this is wonderful.” She lifted the plate with colorful macaroni glued haphazardly around the edge of the plate and a burst of spaghetti in the middle. “I love it.”
Jack gave it some thought. “It needs more blue.”
Joy’s brows went up. “I believe you’re right.” She set the plate back in front of him, stroked a hand over his fair hair, then answered a little girl calling her name. Before she was done with that, another girl had a question, and then a little boy needed the bathroom.
Laughing, Joy clapped her hands to get their attention. “Kids, this is Ms. Rose and she’s going to help out while I get some other things done.”
The boys and girls, in a variety of ages, reacted with smiles, questions or total disregard.
Joy said, “Ms. Rose, Amanda has been a big helper. Amanda, you won’t mind helping Ms. Rose?”
Amanda looked around nine or ten, was tall for her age, and she beamed with the responsibility.
The little boy who needed the restroom left with Joy, but she returned him a few minutes later. He immediately ran back to his craft. Luckily, the kids wore stick-on name tags and that made it easier for Phoenix.
She had so much fun that she barely took note of shouts and laughter from the nearby adults. Ninety minutes later, she sat cross-legged on the floor at the kid-height table, absorbed in a new craft with the kids while also snacking on juice boxes and cheese crackers, when she became aware of the shadow cast over the table.
Her heartbeat went a little chaotic, but it wasn’t fear doing that to her; instincts caused the reaction because she knew right away it was Cooper behind her. Tipping her head back, she found him smiling down at her.
Phoenix didn’t know what it was about him, but he stole her breath away.
“Beautiful artwork, Ms. Rose.” He glanced at her elephant made from a foam cup and construction paper.
“Hi.” She set aside her craft and, flattening her hands on the table, started to stand.
“Let me.” Cooper caught her under the arms and lifted her upright. Once on her feet, she quickly turned to face him.
He wore a dry T-shirt and jeans, but his hair was still damp. Though he’d finger-combed it back, already thick locks fell forward again.
Before the attack—and prior to her engagement—Phoenix had been like any other woman. When faced with a man as compelling as Cooper Cochran, she could have flirted and teased as easily as anyone else. Now she adjusted her glasses and tried to think of something to say.
As if she weren’t awkward, he asked, “Did I interrupt?”
Reluctantly replacing her glasses, she glanced at the kids. Their small bodies crowded over the table as they alternately ate handfuls of crackers and worked on their creations. “There’s no interrupting snack time.”
“Or creative genius?” he asked, taking in all the various pieces of artwork drying on tables, shelves and along the wall heater.
“Exactly.” Why did he always smell so good? “You finally caught a break?”
“It’s been busy,” he agreed. “I’ve seen you running a lot, too. Did you eat?”
“I—”
A flash of lightning illuminated every window, followed by a great boom of thunder—and the lights went out. Night had rolled around without her realizing it, and it was very dark inside the building.
Pandemonium ensued.
She heard a crash, someone shouted, one of the kids cried out and landed against her legs. Since she’d been facing Cooper, she stumbled into his rock-solid body.
Hard, warm, and that intoxicating scent... His hands clasped her shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” she started to say, her palms against his chest to balance herself, but she got jostled again and almost fell.
Her glasses slipped off her face. She made a wild grab for them but it was already too late. Where they went, she didn’t know, but the child squeezing the back of her knees drew her attention. “Oh, honey, it’s okay.” Blindly, she reached back and found the top of his head. “I’m right here.” Then louder, for all the children, she said, “Everything is okay. Just stay still a moment until—” She felt the crunch beneath her foot and froze.
Another child shrieked.
“It’s like a game,” Cooper said, his voice strong and soothing, naturally calming the children. He kept one hand on her shoulder while addressing them. “Count to ten and we’ll have light again, I promise.”
As he started to count, so did the kids.
“I’m on it,” Joy called out, just as emergency lights flickered on. A second later, she lifted a bright lantern.
Phoenix realized she was standing very close to Cooper although she couldn’t see him clearly. “My glasses...”
“Damn.” He knelt down and said with regret, “Found them.”
Having Cooper Cochran at her feet was a little disarming, especially with his large hand now burning against her waist. Trying for a note of levity, she said, “Please tell me I’m not standing on them.”
“Wish I could.”
She groaned theatrically, but inside she was cringing. Just her luck.
He urged her back a step, then stood again. “Can you see without them?”
“Big blurry shapes, but not details.”
He took her hand and placed the glasses in it. “I don’t know if it helps, but you only stepped on one side.”
They felt mangled, one plastic arm completely missing and the lens on that side cracked.
“I guess one lens is better than none.” She lifted the broken glasses to her face and, closing her right eye, peered through the remaining lens. Now that they weren’t in darkness, most of the kids merely seemed concerned. The child holding her legs, however, squeezed tighter, making her stumble.
Slipping an arm around him, Phoenix maneuvered him to her side, then went with him back to the table. The other kids huddled closer to her. Making a joke of it, she looked at them comically out of the broken glasses, earning a few giggles.
“Help me out, kids. If you’re still here, call out your name, okay? Right now I can’t see so great.”
Jack was the first to shout his name, followed by the rest of them, each trying to be louder than the other. Behind her, she heard Cooper laugh.
She liked that he was patient with kids. Had he wanted children of his own before his wife passed? She had a feeling he’d have been a terrific father.
Just as suddenly as the lights had gone out, they came back on. Now that they could safely navigate, parents came to collect their children. Apparently, it was late enough to call it a night, because everyone began dispersing.
Cooper hung around with her as she spoke to the different parents. When they were finally alone, he asked, “Do you have another pair of glasses anywhere?”
“In my car.” At the top of the lot. She sighed. Getting there without her glasses would be tricky, especially in the dark.