Cooper (The Family Simon Book 6)

by Juliana Stone

As soon as Easter was over and his mother was gone, he’d look after that problem. He might have to take off for a few days and hook up with one of his go-to girls, but hell, a few days of lost work would be worth it. It had been a long, dry stretch, and it was time he ended the drought.

  Decision made, Cooper exhaled and headed down the stairs.

  As he approached the kitchen, he slowed and then stopped just in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene before him. The radio was on, and Morgan was scrubbing potatoes at the sink, humming softly to herself, while the dog sat at her feet, tail wagging madly. Stanley’s head was cocked to the side as if listening intently to Morgan while he waited patiently for something. Morgan finished the potato in her hand and then reached for something on the counter—a biscuit by the looks of it.

  She tossed it in Stanley’s waiting mouth and smiled at the dog. Cooper couldn’t drag his eyes from her. The smile transformed her entire face into something soft. Long tendrils of hair had come loose from her ponytail. They curled around her collarbone, and he followed them down, realizing for the first time he’d never seen her in anything other than a large sweatshirt or a cardigan or that god-awful green sweater she’d worn the first day at the church social. Hell, even the top she’d worn on St. Patrick’s Day had pretty much covered her up.

  Right now, a plain white T-shirt clung to curves that, in Cooper’s opinion, should never be covered up. Yoga pants (every man on the planet should say a prayer to the god of yoga pants) cupped a sweetly curved ass, and showed off toned, athletic legs.

  That ball of heat in his gut intensified as she bent over and murmured something to Stanley. Cooper should have announced his arrival at that point, but considering she’d caught him naked, he figured they were even.

  Besides, he was enjoying this soft, open, and happy side of Morgan.

  She washed her hands at the sink and turned the other way to grab another potato, when Cooper’s gaze narrowed and everything in him stilled. The skin on her right arm was puckered and horribly scarred. From what he could see, it started from just above her elbow and, crawling upward, disappeared beneath her T-shirt and reappeared at the crook of her neck.

  It was unexpected, and Cooper was still looking at the scars when she straightened and glanced up at him. Shit.

  Her smile slowly faded, as did the softness in her face, while her gaze moved to the island. He spied her sweater hanging over the side of one of the tall stools.

  Stanley barked, and she jumped, moving a few feet back while Cooper walked into the kitchen. She scooped up her sweater, which he pretended not to notice, and then he walked over to the sink.

  “I was thinking scalloped potatoes.” He kept his voice light, hating the darkness that shadowed her face. “What do you think?”

  “It’s your dinner so…whatever you need help with.”

  The light was definitely gone. She looked so small and defeated standing there in a sweater that was zipped up to her chin. That ball of heat in his gut melted. It turned into something else entirely. And, truth be told, Cooper wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but one thing he did know.

  He was going to make it his mission to get this woman to smile through the shadows that haunted her.

  “Scalloped potatoes it is.” He crossed over to the pantry and pulled out cream of mushroom soup, salt and pepper, and dried onions. Then, from the fridge, he grabbed butter, parmesan cheese, as well as cheddar. While Morgan cut the potatoes she’d cleaned into thin slices, he got busy shredding cheddar.

  Together, they layered the ingredients in a large pan, several times over, and then he scooped the soup on top of it all. The oven was set for 350, and twenty minutes later, he shoved his creation inside.

  Next he pulled tilapia from the fridge and tossed several ingredients together to make his world-famous marinade, while Morgan cut up the vegetables for a garden salad.

  They worked together, not really talking but listening to the radio, and by the time his fish was ready for the barbecue, the tension was gone and those soft lines he was growing quite fond of had returned to her face.

  And of course Stanley was still being a pain in the ass—Cooper had nearly fallen on his ass at least three times. It was that or step on the damn dog’s tail.

  “You keep tossing that stuff at him, and that dog will never stop growing.” He winked at Morgan. “And I’m not talking height. I’m talking width.”

  She shrugged, a soft smile curving her mouth. “I can’t help it. He’s just so darn cute.”

  Cooper snorted. Saliva pooled in the corner of the dog’s mouth. “I guess your definition of cute is a hell of a lot different from mine.”

  “Really.” Her eyebrows shot up. “And what exactly is it that you find cute?”

  They stood together at the counter. He was close to Morgan. So close that if he wanted to, he could reach over and tuck that one piece of hair that curled around her chin back behind her delicate ear.

  Her eyes widened a bit, and her lips parted. Was it just him? Or did she make a soft sort of sound, one that slipped from between her lips like a whisper?

  That wasn’t cute. That was hot.

  Cooper gave himself a mental shake, and when he spoke, his voice was a little rougher than he’d like. But the devil that was in him made him inch forward—the countertop was behind Morgan, and there was nowhere for her to go.

  “What do I find cute?” He paused, and she made that sound again. So. Damn. Hot.

  Cooper touched a little freckle that sat at the corner of her eye. For a few seconds, he didn’t say a word. He inhaled a subtle vanilla scent that was soft and sweet.

  “This is cute.”

  Her long lashes fluttered downward, and his gaze fell to her mouth. Not thinking, he inched even closer. His body tightened, and for one crazy moment, he considered taking a nibble. He was just about to cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed when Stanley let loose a round of barking that made both of them jump. The dog’s claws clicked along the floors as it scrambled toward the hall, and that was when Cooper realized he had company.

  Whatever spell permeated the air fizzled into nothing. He cleared his throat, took a step back, and a second later, Maverick strode into the kitchen, arms laden with wine and appetizers, followed by Charlie and his mother. He had no idea where Connor was, but he was going to guess his sister-in-law’s little brother was outside with the dog, because no longer were Stanley’s excited barks filling his ears.

  His mother zeroed in on Morgan about two whole seconds after entering the room. He watched her face light up with a smile and saw the interest. Here we go.

  “Hello,” Isabel said, moving past her son. “Cooper didn’t mention he’d invited a friend for dinner.”

  “Oh…” Morgan darted a look his way. Hot and flustered, she continued. “I’m not… We’re not friends.” She blew out a long breath, more than a little flustered as she attempted a smile. “That didn’t come out right.”

  She glanced up at him, looking more than a little unsure.

  “This is Morgan,” Cooper said. “She helped me get things ready and…” He glanced at Morgan. “I hope she stays for dinner, because the potatoes we made are probably the best damn potatoes in Maine.”

  “Really,” Charlie said with a chuckle. “The last time you had my potatoes, you told me they were the best damn potatoes in Maine.”

  “Yeah well, our fancy potatoes have a secret ingredient, and sorry to say, but they kick ass.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Charlie smiled at Morgan. “I’m glad you’re staying. Dealing with these two goofballs is tiring.”

  Morgan shook her head. “Oh, I don’t think I’m staying.”

  “Why not?” Cooper asked. “You already told me you had nothing on.” He frowned. “What’s your dad up to? I can drive to town and get him if you like.”

  “He’s over at Hank’s,” Charlie said. “I saw his truck in the driveway. So please stay.”

  “That settles it, t
hen. Besides, who says no to a pregnant lady?” Cooper didn’t give Morgan a chance to protest or come up with an excuse to leave. He had a feeling that if she did, she’d spend the rest of the afternoon and evening alone. No way was that happening.

  Cooper opened the bottle of chilled white wine and poured a glass for Morgan, while his mother and Charlie helped themselves to sparkling water.

  “I hope you didn’t feel like you had to invite me for dinner,” Morgan said, voice lowered as she accepted the glass of wine. “This evening should be for your family.”

  He winked, liking the way the pink in her cheeks deepened even more. “I want you here.” Cooper Simon was looking forward to peeling back some of Morgan Campbell’s layers.

  His brother scooped up the fish, while Cooper grabbed a couple of cold beers. The two men headed outdoors to do what men generally did. Shoot the shit, drink a few cold ones, and pretend like firing up the barbecue was a delicate operation that needed manly attention.

  He was pretty sure the women knew it was total BS, but it was a routine that worked, and when something wasn’t broken, why fix it?

  The women settled around the island in the kitchen, and Cooper glanced back, just for a second. He didn’t know it yet, but the sight of Morgan sitting there, a slow, gentle smile on her face, was something he would remember later. Much later.

  It was the beginning of something he couldn’t put a label on. But it was a “something” that could change both of them.

  If they allowed it to.

  12

  As it turned out, the potatoes Cooper and Morgan prepared were pretty damn good. So was the fish and the salad. But more importantly, for someone who’d been hiding way too long, the company was all a girl could ask for.

  It was ages since Morgan had been so relaxed. Of course, the entire bottle of wine she’d finished might have had something to do with it. Or maybe it was just the fact that, for a few hours, she pushed aside her pathetic life to enjoy being with, what appeared to her to be, a normal family.

  She didn’t think about her father and his drinking, or the fact that he’d given up on living long before she’d come back to Fisherman’s Landing. She didn’t ponder the logistics of living in the same town as Nathan and Christy. Or how she was going to react when she eventually ran into them. And she would. No way that could be avoided.

  She didn’t dwell on any of it.

  Instead, she let herself fall under the spell that was Charlie and Maverick. Their love for each other was palpable. It was a living, breathing thing that permeated the air and wrapped every single one of them in a piece of their happiness.

  It was in the soft touches, the shared smiles, and the secret looks they thought no one else saw. But Morgan did. She saw all of it right up until they left to go home. While Cooper was saying good-bye to his mother, Maverick slid his hand across Charlie’s belly and bent low to plant a kiss there. Right where their child grew. An ache bloomed inside Morgan, and she turned away.

  “I hope I see you again.” Isabel smiled at Morgan. “And I’m so sorry we’ve no room in our car.” She wasn’t sorry. Not in the least. Even Morgan saw that. For some reason, Isabel thought her son and Morgan had some kind of thing going on.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong. Her smile faded. Cooper was just being nice. She’d seen the look on his face when he saw the scars on her arm. It was the same look she’d seen many times over from others. Shock. Pity. Probably disgust. She didn’t blame him—they were ugly as hell.

  Cooper ushered his family outside, grabbing Connor along the way and ruffling the little guy’s hair, while Morgan retreated to the kitchen, tossing the empty wine bottle into the recycle container under the kitchen sink. Damn. If only she’d kept to one glass, she’d be able to drive home. Now, she’d have to stay a few more hours until she was good to go.

  She’d even called Hank for a ride but got his voice mail and had given up at that point. There was no one else.

  She wandered over to the window and stared out at the blackness beyond. The sky was littered with a blanket of stars, and was that a… Morgan winced, angling her head for a better look, a soft smile breaking across her face. A shooting star arced across the night sky. She watched it until it disappeared.

  “I feel like a fire.”

  She jumped at the sound of Cooper’s voice and turned around to face him. His expression was unreadable, and he moved toward the family room, where a large fireplace took up nearly an entire wall. Stanley padded along behind him and flopped onto one of his beds, this one next to the heat. Cooper tossed him a bone, and the pup got busy.

  Feeling more than a little restless, Morgan stretched, but with no other option than a fire, she made her way across the room.

  She slid onto the sofa and settled herself into the corner, watching Cooper as he stoked the fire. The Henley he wore was thin and did nothing to hide his broad shoulders and muscular back. Of course, considering she’d seen pretty much all of him, did it really matter if it did?

  Naked Cooper did funny things to her. Don’t think of naked Cooper.

  He stood and turned around, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans. “We can watch a movie if you like.”

  She was nodding before he finished speaking. Anything was better than sitting alone with Cooper Simon, trying to make small talk. It was easier when the others were here, but now… She exhaled and pasted a smile on her face.

  Now it was just the two of them.

  Cooper scooped up the remote and sat on the sofa. He leaned back, and the large screen came to life. Perched on the wall above the fireplace, it was the focal point of the room.

  “Netflix?” he asked. Again she nodded, smile still firmly in place. She could do this.

  He clicked on movies and began to scroll through them when she sat up. “Wait. That one,” Morgan said, suddenly interested.

  “Which?”

  “The Dark Abyss.” She grabbed a nearby blanket and pulled it across her lap.

  “That’s an intense movie.”

  She glanced at him. “Have you seen it? It’s a Lee Holloway film, based on one of his books.”

  He slowly shook his head, and if she’d been paying attention, she might have noticed the tightness around his mouth. The way his eyes slid from her. “No. I haven’t.”

  Morgan settled in deeper, drawing up the blanket until it covered her shoulders.

  “I think it won a few Oscars.”

  “Seven, actually.”

  “Huh.” But Morgan wasn’t really paying attention to Cooper anymore. She was glued to the television as the opening credits began to roll. She’d read the book while recuperating in the hospital. It was an emotional journey for the main character, Bella, and though the ending was tragic, the theme of hope that ran throughout the book helped Morgan through her own dark time. Lee Holloway had a gift for words, and those words let her find some sort of peace in a world where all she could see was darkness and pain.

  “You got any popcorn?”

  “I do.” Cooper got to his feet and a few minutes later, a hot bowl filled with the stuff was set in her lap. She didn’t notice when Stanley wormed his way onto the sofa or when Cooper dimmed all the lights. Eventually, the fire burned itself out, but she didn’t see that either.

  The film was engrossing. It was as emotional and intense as the book, and by the time the final scene rolled around, Morgan gripped the edge of the blanket so tightly, her knuckles were white.

  She remembered the last words of that last chapter, not only because she’d read it several times, but because they were so damn powerful.

  “It’s not over. None of this is over. It’s only the beginning of the next chapter.” A pause, as Bella’s voice lowered. “I’ll wait for you to turn the page. For as long as it takes. I’ll wait for you.”

  Wow. Morgan blinked, but it did no good. She wiped her sleeve along her chin, glad that the room was in darkness.

  It was silent, and she thought that maybe Cooper
was asleep, but he got to his feet and turned on a lamp.

  “Did you like it?” she asked softly, watching him as he grabbed her empty bowl and walked back to the kitchen.

  He set the bowl into the sink and stared out the window for a few moments. “They did a good job.” He ran water into the bowl and then turned back to her. “What did you think of it?”

  Morgan blew out a long, hot breath and got to her feet. She pulled the blanket along with her and wrapped it around her shoulders. She took a few steps but stopped near the island.

  “I think it was as good as the book.”

  His eyebrows arched, and he watched her closely. “You’ve read the book?”

  She nodded. “I did. Several times.”

  “You read any other Lee Holloway novels?”

  She paused, a slight frown on her forehead. “I think I’ve read them all. What about you?”

  Cooper shrugged. “Can’t say that I’ve actually opened one of his books and read it.”

  Morgan studied him for a few seconds, liking the way the shadows swept across the planes of his face. He looked mysterious and edgy. And, Jesus, she shouldn’t be thinking that.

  “You should give him a try. I think you’d like them.”

  A quick smile tugged at his mouth. “You think so?”

  She nodded, mouth dry. “The Dark Abyss helped me through some…” She had to work hard to swallow the lump in her throat. “Some rough times, and, uh, they’re just really good books.”

  His smile slipped away. “Maybe I will.”

  Was it just Morgan, or was Cooper’s voice lower and huskier than before? He took a few steps closer to her, his face intense and serious. She knew what he was thinking. Knew what he was wondering. And a chill rolled over her.

  “Do you want me to put the fire back on?”

  He took another step until he was in her space. When was the last time anyone had been in her space? Cooper Simon had put himself right in the center of her wheelhouse, and she didn’t care.

  “I’m not cold,” she found herself saying, staring up into his face.