Head Over Heels by Susan Andersen Page A

yesterday, and she, for one, would still be sleeping if not for her responsibility to Lizzy.
    The shoulder he hitched indifferently looked half a yard wide. “I’ve got things to do.” He leaned back in his chair, looking right at home with his paper and his coffee, comfortably clad in an old pair of jeans and a faded black T-shirt, with a camel, burgundy, and black plaid shirt worn open over it.
    It bothered her that she found it difficult to look away, and she bent her head to her niece. “You were right, Lizzy; it’s much warmer down here. And once we fuel you up, you’ll be even warmer yet. What would you like for breakfast?”
    â€œCereal.”
    â€œIs that all? Wouldn’t you rather have something warm? A nice, hot bowl of oatmeal, maybe?”
    Lizzy made a face and Coop laughed. “I’m with you, Lizzy. That stuff’s nasty.”
    Veronica gave him a look. “It’s good for her, though. It’ll stick to her ribs until lunchtime.”
    â€œNot if she rolfs it up because she can’t stand the taste.”
    Lizzy eased out of Veronica’s hold and inched over to Coop. “I don’t like the feel of it in my mouth,” she informed him shyly. “It’s mooshy.” Staring at his hair, she raised a hand as if to touch it, but snatched it back to her side without doing so. Her solemn gaze didn’t stop assessing it, though. “How come your hair sticks up like that?”
    â€œI don’t know, baby. It just grows that way.” He rubbed a big-knuckled hand over his spiky ’do and flashed her a rueful smile. “Maybe it’s because I wearit so short. It might lie down better if I grew it out a little, but this length is easy to take care of.” He bent his head toward her. “You wanna feel it?”
    Lizzy inched even closer and ran her hand back and forth over the thick brush-cut. Her lips curled up at the corners at the feel of his hair beneath her fingers, and Veronica found her own palms itching as she speculated about its texture.
    Coop returned Lizzy’s smile with a grin of his own. “ Your hair sure is pretty. It’s very shiny.”
    â€œUh-huh.” She nodded solemnly. “Like Aunt Ronnie’s.”
    Coop’s gaze rested on Veronica for a moment, and she could just imagine what she looked like. Pulling a comb through her hair hadn’t been high on her to-do list this morning. “Yeah,” he finally agreed lazily, and turned his attention back to Lizzy. “Like Aunt Ronnie’s, in a lighter color sorta way.”
    Veronica poured herself a cup of coffee and nearly scalded her tongue seeking that first jolt of caffeine. Then she opened a cupboard and grabbed down a bowl and a glass. She turned to her niece. “What time does the bus come, Lizagator? Does it still stop at the end of the block?”
    â€œYep.” Lizzy glanced at the clock on the stove and gave a start. “Oh, no! I hafta get dressed!” She raced up the back stairs.
    Coop returned his attention to the newspaper, but paused in the midst of turning a page to spare a glance for Veronica. “You sure know how to clear a room.”
    Veronica shrugged and said with studied casualness, “I don’t have the hang of her schedule yet.” But his comment stung, for it forced her to acknowledgethe twinge of jealousy his easy way with Lizzy had given her. It was seeing the effortless way he’d won her niece over that had prompted her to ask about the bus, and she cringed inside that she could be so petty. She certainly didn’t want Lizzy to fear him, but apparently she didn’t want her niece to like him, either. What did that say about her?
    After setting her dishes on the counter, she pulled a box of cereal off the shelf and reached into the fridge for the milk. She carried everything over to the table, set her load down across from Coop, and went back for her coffee. In an