Cooper (The Family Simon Book 6) (10 page)

M
organ swirled
the wine in her glass, contemplating her evening so far. It was, to say the least, turning out to be one hell of a surprise. After coming home from Cooper’s, already confused and feeling a boatload of stuff she had no name for, she’d found her father piss drunk, passed out on the kitchen floor. There’d been several messages on the answering machine. Missed appointments. Canceled contracts. Bill collectors. She’d pretty much lost it.

Morgan had rolled her father over and poured an entire jug of ice-cold water onto his face. Totally out of character for her, but whatever. When he’d come to, sputtering and cursing like a sailor, she ignored him, marched herself upstairs, and decided then and there, no way was she staying home with him.

She’d showered, changed, and had no idea where she was going until she’d walked out of her house and straight into Cooper’s truck.

And now…now she was ensconced in a private alcove, drinking expensive red wine, actually looking forward to her meal, and all of it was because of the man sitting across from her.

She peeked at him from beneath lowered lids and wondered for at least the tenth time, why he was so hell-bent on spending time with her. So far they’d chitchatted about nothing important, and she was kind of done with that. Maybe it was the wine that loosened her tongue. Or the delicious fresh bread in her belly. Whatever it was didn’t matter, and as they waited for their appetizers—bruschetta and stuffed artichokes—Morgan set down her glass. Her fingers caressed the stem as she gazed across the table at him.

“So what do you do out there?”

Cooper took a moment, a slow smile spreading across his face, and stirring an answering heat in the pit of her belly, but she wasn’t going to think about that right now.

“Out where?”

“Come on,” she replied. “We’re not going to play that game again, are we?” She paused. “You said you wanted to get to know me. Well, there are a few things I’m curious about as well.”

“You ever hear of an amazing little thing called Google?”

“Google doesn’t know everything,” she retorted, brows furrowing as a new thought occurred to her. “Have you googled me?” She waited for his answer and didn’t realize she held her breath until he spoke and she let it out in a long, slow roll.

“I thought about it, but decided not to.”

Surprised at his candor, she sat a little straighter. “Why not?”

“I know what it’s like to see things about myself on the Internet. And I’ll be the first to admit most of it is true, or at least they hold a grain of truth. But words on a computer screen don’t tell the whole story. They don’t dig deep and offer up something real. I didn’t google you, even though you intrigue the hell out of me, because I thought I could find out the answers to my questions the old-fashioned way.” He paused, that wicked smile of his making her heart speed up. “I thought I’d take a chance and just ask.”

“What if I don’t want to answer?”

He chuckled softly, the light from the candles around the room enhancing the devilish glint in his eyes. “That would be a shame.”

“Why’s that?”

He leaned toward her. “Because I think you’re going to surprise me, and it’s been a long time since that’s happened.”

Again she felt her cheeks heat. It was the tone of his voice, the look on his face, and the intimacy of the moment. She wasn’t sure what this was between them. The only thing she did know was that it excited and scared the crap out of her—both in equal measure.

“Let’s play a game,” Cooper said.

That got her attention. “What kind of game?”

“I ask a question, and you answer it. Then you can do the same.”

She considered his request, waiting until the server placed their appetizers on the table and left, to reply.

“Is anything off-limits?” she asked.

“No.” His gaze was direct, and she wiped damp palms across the tops of her thighs, before unwrapping her napkin and reaching for a piece of bruschetta.

“Can I go first?” Morgan waited for his answer, but all he did was shoot her that damn smile of his (honestly, it should be illegal) and raise his glass in a mock toast.

She exhaled slowly, took another sip of wine, munched on a piece of bread, and then decided to go for it. What the hell did she have to lose?

“What do you do in the shop?”

“I write.”

That was unexpected. “Oh.” She frowned. “What exactly do you write?”

Cooper slowly shook his head, that smile still firmly in place. “My turn.” He reached for an artichoke, and her gaze fell to his lips, to that square chin with a slight cleft and the shadow of whiskers that covered his chin. He took a bite and chewed slowly.

Mouth dry, she looked away. Nervous butterflies made her stomach turn over, and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. Hair stuck to the back of her neck, and it took everything in Morgan not to squirm in her seat like a five-year-old sitting in the principal’s office.

“Do you have any tattoos?” His voice was warm and intimate.

“I…” That came from left field. “No. Do you?”

Cooper laughed. “You know I do.”

Oh. Right. She’d seen him naked. Geez. She glanced away and opened her mouth to ask another question, but Cooper interrupted her.

“My turn again.”

Damn. Morgan scowled. He was good.

“You went to school in California. Why?”

Morgan considered her answer as she poked at the edge of her bruschetta. “I was offered a full ride.”

“Nice,” he murmured. “What kind of scholarship?”

She flashed a smile, suddenly enjoying herself. “My turn.” She paused, studying him for a few seconds. “Is it true Joel McTeer caught you and his wife together?” Joel McTeer was a well-known country singer whose problems with booze and the law had become legendary. He was married to a former NFL cheerleader, Natasha something-or-other, now a celebrated Instagram star.

“Define caught.”

She laughed. “As in naked caught?”

A sly grin crossed his face, and with a small shrug, he set down his wineglass. “I see you’re not averse to using Google after all.”

“Didn’t have to use Google. I remember when it happened.” She grinned. “Answer my question.”

“There was a charity event. Natasha had a lot to drink and was a mess. Her husband didn’t seem to care, so I helped her to her room. Let’s just say McTeer wasn’t appreciative of the fact she was all over me when what I was doing was trying to get her settled.”

Morgan wasn’t sure if she bought this version of events. TMZ’s was so much juicier. “So you weren’t naked? Because they say he chased you out of the hotel room in nothing but your birthday suit.”

“First of all, I would never run from McTeer. The guy’s a goof. And secondly, that never happened. He came into the room, took a drunken swing, and I decided neither one of them was worth the hassle for me to stay and make sure they both got to bed.” He watched her for a few moments. “You seem disappointed.”

“Not disappointed. It just…kind of made a good story is all.”

“What was your scholarship for?” He shot the question at her, and she answered without pause.

“Track.” She licked her lips. “What kind of writing do you do out in the shop?”

The server appeared with their entrees, effectively stopping their game, though as soon as Morgan sampled her seafood fettuccini and waited for Cooper to do the same, she dove right back in.

“Answer?” she said softly. She hadn’t pegged Cooper as the literary sort and thought maybe he did something in the sporting field. Hadn’t one of his cousins played in the MLB? The actor guy, Beau?

He cleared his throat, his electric eyes enigmatic and strangely hypnotizing. She might have forgotten to breathe.

“I write about family. Relationships. Drama. All of it.”

“Like books?”

He flashed a smile. “You seem surprised.”

“I guess I am.” There seemed to be a lot more layers to Cooper Simon than she’d first thought.

They ate for a few moments in silence, each seemingly lost in thought. Morgan was getting full and toying with her pasta when Cooper asked another question.

“When’s the last time you had a date night?”

She paused, a forkful of pasta halfway to her mouth, and then she set it down. Her stomach rolled, and she reached for her water. She needed a moment, because she was trying to decide whether to be truthful. In the end, she decided honesty was all she had.

“It’s been so long, I don’t remember.”

“That’s too bad,” Cooper murmured, his husky voice drawing her gaze until it rested on him.

Mouth dry, she licked her lips. “Why’s that?” Something flickered in his eyes and dammit, how was she going to finish her meal with all the action going on in her stomach?

“Because candlelight looks good on you.”

Something shifted. She felt it start like a soft whisper that grew to a clamor. It rolled over her, leaving her breathless with a heart beating so fast, she was surprised she didn’t pass out.

Was it the wine? The ambiance? The brutal honesty they’d both shown? She tossed her napkin and leaned toward him.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Morgan watched a play of emotions cross Cooper’s face, and just when she thought the game was done—that he wouldn’t answer—he surprised her.

“Yes.” His answer was curt and she knew there was a story there. “Have you?”

She held his gaze and slowly nodded. “Yes.” A few moments passed, and she pushed her half-eaten plate of pasta away. Fiddling with her spoon, she found herself vocalizing thoughts that should have stayed hidden.

“Do you think you’ll ever find love again?”

Cooper finished the last of his wine and set it down. “I’m not sure I want to.” Again, he lifted a brow and cocked his head. “You?”

And there it was. The truth that gnawed at her. The truth that haunted her. The absolute truth she felt in her heart.

Morgan shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “No, I don’t.”

If Cooper seemed surprised at her answer, he didn’t show it—and even if he did, she was no longer paying attention. Movement a few tables over caught her attention, and Morgan turned slightly, a frown on her face. That voice…

A man stood beside a woman, his arm around her shoulders. A casual gesture to be sure, but one that spoke of intimacy nonetheless. The man bent down and whispered something into her ear and then straightened, his face alive with a smile that had, at one time, belonged to Morgan.

Her heart twisted as he perused the room, because she knew what was coming. When he found her, the smile slowly died. It withered and melted into something sad. Just like their love had.

Nathan. Her Nathan.

And Christy.

Oh God.

Heat and cold collided inside her. Queasy, she fought of a wave of dizziness and winced at the roar of sound in her ears. She knew she was trembling but couldn’t seem to stop it. And, God, she wanted to look away from them, but something, some macabre, stupid
something
held her still. Her heart was pounding so hard and heavy, she was surprised no one else could hear it. But then, maybe they could. Maybe every single person was looking at her with that same look of pity that had been sent her way ever since the accident.

The same look of pity that had replaced the love she used to see in Nathan’s eyes. She might have whimpered, or maybe even cried out.

A warm hand touched hers. A voice broke through the haze that blanketed Morgan.

“Hey, you okay?”

She blinked away tears, and Nathan faded from view. Cooper was silent, his gaze intense as they searched her face. Was she okay? She was so far from okay, right now in this moment, she felt as if she’d never find her way back. Would she admit that?
Could
she admit that?

“No,” she answered, voice rough. “I’m so not okay.”

Apparently, she could.

Cooper held her gaze a heartbeat longer and then squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”

“But…” She glanced down at their half-eaten meal and the second bottle of wine that had just been delivered.

“No,” he said, getting to his feet. “Let’s you and me get out of here.”

Her eyes shot back up to his, and everything inside her stilled.
He knew.
He knew exactly who the couple was.

Morgan slipped her hand into Cooper’s, hesitating because Nathan and Christy blocked her way to freedom. Cooper bent low, his warm breath feathering across her neck.

“Don’t worry about them. I’ve got this.” He tucked her into his side and they turned to face the two people who had hurt her more than she’d thought possible. Never in a million years did Morgan think she’d have the balls to face them in public, and yet with Cooper at her side, she felt stronger. More in control than she’d felt in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

His hand was warm at her back, they stepped forward.

C
ooper didn’t need
anyone to tell him who the couple was, because Morgan’s expression told him everything he needed to know. She was still trembling when she took his arm, and he smiled at her reassuringly, hoping he could somehow calm her.

There was only one exit from the dining area, and as they slowly threaded their way through several tables, he was aware most of the patrons in the room were staring. Some from beneath lidded eyes, others not so shyly. Humans were, for the most part, intuitive creatures—he’d made a career out of studying them—and right now, everyone seemed to be aware that some kind of drama was unfolding.

He kept his grip firm on Morgan as he studied the couple. From his own experience, he knew that not every situation was cut-and-dried…that the gray area could overtake black and white, and something that seemed simple was, at best, complicated in the extreme.

And yet, the wave of protectiveness that rolled through him didn’t give a crap about any of that. All he knew was that this woman at his side had been hurt, and he’d do what he could to minimize any further damage.

He didn’t need to know the details of what happened, because it didn’t matter. He simply didn’t care. He was Team Morgan, and he had her back.

They stopped a few feet from the exit, mostly because there was nowhere for them to go, and Cooper wasn’t sure if Morgan would have sailed past them if she could. By this time, he was pretty much supporting her, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze. The hostess was chatting with the woman, a tall, attractive blonde who sported an athletic build, wide-set eyes, and an engaging smile. She hadn’t spotted Morgan yet, but the man certainly had.

He too was tall—Cooper had maybe an inch or two on the guy—and looked like he hit the gym hard. His dark hair was cut short, almost military in look, and he was dressed casually in jeans and leather.

The guy looked startled, surprised, and, if Cooper was reading it correctly, more than a little bit uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to say something but then snapped it shut, shuffling his feet.

Coward.

Gently, Morgan cleared her throat and spoke. “Hello, Nathan.”

At the sound of her voice, the woman turned, and the hostess watched the exchange, not bothering to hide her interest.

“Oh my God, Morgan. I…” Her voice trailed off and she looked uncomfortable. “I’ve been meaning to call, but…”

Nathan found his voice. He spoke hesitantly and took a step back from the woman. “I heard you were back in town.”

“I heard the same about you.” Morgan stood a little straighter.

“Yes, I’m working with my dad.”

“What a coincidence. So am I.”

An awkward moment passed, and then Morgan turned to Cooper. “This is Nathan and this…this is Christy.” She paused, and her bottom lip trembled.

He gave her a small wink before stepping forward. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cooper.”

The two men shook hands, and Cooper kept his grip firm, his gaze direct. They each took measure of the other in the way that men do, and then Cooper let his hand drop.

“As in Cooper Simon, Maverick’s brother?” Christy asked, finally finding her voice again.

He turned to her and nodded. “You know him?”

“Not really. I mean, I’ve met him once. At, ah, a community event thing where he sang.” Christy looked at Morgan with a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes on account of the fact she looked nervous as hell. “You look really good, Morgan.”

“You look beautiful.” That from Nathan. He looked as if he hadn’t meant to speak, but his face spoke volumes, and the guy’s face reddened. “Maybe we can grab a coffee or…”

Morgan stiffened, her face now as pale as the linen on the tables. Candlelight threw shadows across her features, emphasizing the delicate bone structure along her jaw, the generous curve of her mouth.

“Or maybe…maybe we can just talk or something.” Nathan half shrugged and then shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Christy’s lips were pinched, and she slid her arm through Nathan’s—the point obvious:
He’s mine.

The hostess interrupted, holding up two menus, and indicated Nathan and Christy should follow her to their table. Nathan held on for a few seconds longer, watching Morgan.

“It was really good to see you.”

Morgan gave a quick, jerky nod, and Cooper led her to the front reception area, where he paid their bill before heading out to a cold wind off the ocean and a crisp night filled with stars. Cooper fired up his truck and glanced at Morgan. She’d refused his jacket, and he upped the heat.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked gently, trying to gauge her mood. It was early, and he wasn’t willing to give up her company just yet.

Her head was turned, her profile soft as she gazed out the window, into the night sky. Morgan’s fingers kneaded the edge of the seat belt, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Had she heard him? He was just about to repeat himself when she spoke, her voice low and husky and halting.

“I’ve known Nathan Davidson since the third grade.”

Silence followed those words, but Morgan didn’t take her gaze from the window. The throaty hum of the engine took over for a few moments until she continued.

“He was from Alaska and moved here when his dad opened a law office in town. There was some sort of family connection, but I can’t remember what it was.” Her warm breath created condensation on the window, and she rubbed at it absently. “A cousin, maybe?

“To everyone in my class, he was the new kid, but to me…he was exotic. This tall, gangly boy who’d traveled from a state no one I knew had ever visited. We all wanted to be his best friend. We all wanted the new boy to like us. He and Hank bonded over hockey and football, and Nathan didn’t know I existed until the tenth grade.”

Her voice trailed off, and she blew out a long, slow breath, fogging the window even more. “Christy I’ve known since birth.” She turned to him, those big eyes luminous. “Literally. We were born a few hours apart at St. Mary’s, and most every memory I have, Christy is in it. We learned to ride bikes together. Attended Bible camp. Baseball. Dolls. Ran track…

“She was my best friend. I could tell her anything. My hopes and dreams. The things that made me sad or angry or scared. Nathan…” Morgan exhaled and rested her head back against the seat. “She was my best friend. I was closer to her than most of my family. And now…”

She shuddered, and Cooper couldn’t help himself. He unbuckled his seat belt and moved over until he was close. So close he could see the tears that clung to her lashes. The bit of gloss still clinging to her lips. A small scar he’d never noticed, there above her right eyebrow.

Something stirred in his chest. Something hot and hard and full of emotion. He reached forward and brushed back a long strand of soft hair, tucking it behind her ear as her eyelids slowly closed.

“Now she’s just someone from my past that I no longer know.”

Cooper trailed his finger down from Morgan’s ear and traced the delicate outline of her jaw. Her lips were parted and she was hot to the touch, though her complexion was still much too pale.

“Where do you want me to take you?” he asked, watching the play of light caress her face.

“I don’t want to go home. Not yet.”

“Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?”

She slowly shook her head and whispered, “No.”

“I’ve got an idea,” he said before sliding back behind the wheel and securing his seat belt. She didn’t answer and turned to look out the window once again.

Cooper left the restaurant and headed back to Fisherman’s Landing. He sailed through town and then pointed his truck toward home, arriving just as the moon disappeared behind a band of clouds, throwing his place deep in shadow. He grabbed Morgan’s hand as they headed into his house. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask any questions or seem all that interested in where she was.

“Wine?” he asked as they entered the kitchen.

Morgan shook her head and slid onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. She was in a dark funk, and he needed a game plan. He got the fireplace going, dimmed the lights, and turned on the large flat-screen TV. Grabbing a blanket, he slid onto the sofa beside her, not too close because he knew she needed room, but close enough that he could smell the honeysuckle shampoo she’d used that night.

“Movie?” he asked.

She shrugged but after a few seconds spoke. “Sure.” Morgan pulled up the blanket and settled her head against the back of the sofa, turning slightly toward him as she got comfortable.

There wasn’t much choice, but he did stumble across an old comedy starring Hugh Grant. It was a harmless piece of fluff and would fill the time, so he clicked on the channel and put up his feet. About halfway through the movie, he realized he’d moved closer to Morgan, and by the time the credits rolled across the screen, she was fast asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. She’d not spoken one word the entire time. A glance at his watch told him it was past midnight.

“Morgan,” he whispered, but his only answer was a soft sigh as she burrowed deeper against him.

Cooper knew he could do one of two things. Wake Morgan and make the drive back to town, or gather her up and put her to bed here. He glanced down at her. She looked so damn peaceful and relaxed, he didn’t have the heart to wake her. So Cooper scooped her up, smiling to himself when she mumbled a bunch of nothing, and made his way upstairs. He put her in his bed, and she rolled over immediately, grabbing one of his pillows and burying her face in its softness.

Her long hair splayed out around her head and shoulders, a dark inky weave of silk that drew his gaze. She looked so fragile and delicate—which was an absolute contradiction to the woman he’d come to know. Morgan Campbell had strength and backbone, and she probably didn’t know it.

Carefully, he tucked her in, and after a few moments left her in silence. He was glad he’d been there for her tonight. Glad he’d managed to take some of the edge off what had been a stressful situation for Morgan. He wondered about Nathan and Christy. About Morgan’s past and what had happened to alter her future.

He thought of her eyes. Of the way her mouth puckered when she was mad, or how she twirled the end of her hair when concentrating. He thought of her scars—the ones he’d seen and the others, the ones hidden beneath her clothes and skin.

And he thought of their kiss.

It was late. He’d had a long day, and yet he was wired as all hell and wound tighter than a two-dollar watch. What to do? He couldn’t lie on the sofa and think about Morgan Campbell all night. About how much he wanted another kiss. Another touch. And maybe more.

“Shit,” he muttered, heading down the stairs. He shouldn’t be thinking about any of this stuff. He shouldn’t be entertaining any kind of notion that involved him and Morgan and kissing and touching. First off, she obviously had some serious issues stemming from a past that had scarred her inside and out. Secondly, he didn’t want to be the one responsible for ripping those scars open.

Thirdly? Once his novel was done, he was leaving Fisherman’s Landing. This wasn’t where his life was. He’d leave and head back to California, where he’d lose himself in women who didn’t matter and a public persona that, at best, left a lot to be desired.

Morgan deserved something better than what he had to offer.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs and glanced back toward the welcoming light from his family room. Running his hands over the stubble along his chin, Cooper slipped his feet into his boots and headed out back to his shop.

He needed to work and hoped his restless mind was up to the task. Because if not, it was going to be one hell of a long night.