“Nah,” Cooper said with a grin. “It’s because of my rock-star personality.” His grin slowly faded. “Look. I know it can get crazy being around me, and I know you’re not used to the sort of craziness that is part of being a Simon. But if we’re going to…” He faltered and fumbled over his words, his intensity giving way to… Was that uncertainty?
Morgan sat up straighter. Her heart slowly sped up as the seconds ticked by. They stared at each other, and just when it looked like Cooper was going to elaborate, the doorbell shattered the silence and killed whatever moment they’d been in. She didn’t know she’d been holding her breath until it fell out of her in one big swoosh.
“We should go,” he murmured, dropping a kiss to her forehead. He paused, his expression so different from any she’d seen before, it made her knees weak. “We’ll talk later.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded strange in her ears, and she busied herself gathering up her things. They were headed to Boston for the day with Maverick and Charlie, and after the Bruins/Rangers game, spending the night in a hotel.
“Let’s go.” Cooper put his hand at the small of her back and guided her outside. A fresh rain had all but washed away the last remnants of winter, and the tangy scent of salt filled her nostrils. In the distance, she spied the steel-blue Atlantic, the horizon filled with gulls as they danced over the waves, buoyed by the wind. It was on the cool side, but the sun was high in the sky, and deep purple tulips stood like soldiers in front of the porch. Buds had erupted amid the branches of the trees along the driveway and in a few weeks, leaves would fill in the bare spaces.
She watched Cooper stow her bag. Dressed in jeans and leather, the man looked hotter than anyone had a right to. He flashed a quick smile at her before having a word with the driver, and she had to look away before he caught sight of the naked desire she couldn’t hide.
Because that naked desire was accompanied by need and want and something that pressed into her and made her chest tight. It was that little bit of something else that made her nervous as hell. She’d come so far, and he’d helped her so much, but still, at night, as she lay snuggled in his arms, hair tousled from lovemaking, mouth swollen from his kiss, she had to wonder. What did he see in her? How could she ever compare to the women he’d been with? The starlets, rock stars, and socialites?
“Ready?” Cooper opened the door and waited.
Was she? No.
Did she want to be? Yes.
The robin she’d spied a few days earlier swooped low across the lawn and landed on a branch not far from Morgan. It flapped its wings and stared down at her, crying out as if trying to say something.
Morgan watched it for a few seconds and then, with Cooper at her back, slid into the limo.
The game was exciting, boasting two overtime periods and a win for all the Boston fans in attendance. Maverick and Cooper, however, were not happy. The Rangers had played abysmally, racking up an impressive number of penalties, and the two men were arguing over a third-period penalty that had resulted in Boston’s game-winning goal. The four of them made their way out of the private box, joining throngs of fans as they headed to the exits.
“My God, if I have to listen to this all the way back to the hotel, I’m not sure I’ll survive.” Charlie grinned and grabbed hold of Morgan, pulling her ahead of the arguing men. “Seriously. It’s just a game.”
“Just a game?” Maverick came up behind them. “That’s blasphemous. It’s a damn playoff game, woman.”
Charlie giggled and let go of Morgan’s hand so she could wrap herself around her husband. She whispered something into his ear, oblivious to the crowds around him, and then planted a passionate kiss that made Morgan and turn away. It felt like a private moment meant only for the two of them.
Except Cooper was standing in front of her, his gaze intense and dark as he reached for her hand. His large fingers slid over her palm, and he rubbed the spot under her wrist before threading them through hers. To anyone watching the two of them, that simple act was a statement of claim. But to Morgan, it was human connection that helped guide her through the chaos. She wasn’t used to crowds.
There was still a good number of people in the corridor, and as they made their way outside, it became obvious that a lot of them knew who Cooper and Maverick were. They drew several long looks, and more than a few of the folks snapped photos with their cell phones. Cooper must have sensed how uncomfortable the scrutiny made Morgan feel, because he slipped his arm around her and used his tall frame to shield her as much as possible.
Once outside, she breathed a bit easier, eyes on their driver as he stood a few feet away waiting for them. They’d only taken a few steps when flashes went off, which signaled paparazzi. Comments were tossed their way.
“Who’s the babe, Cooper?”
“Give us a smile, sweetheart.”
“Boys, look my way.”
“Maverick, when’s the baby due?”
There was some jostling, some more flashes of light, but they got into the car, and less than a minute later, pulled away from the curb.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Cooper’s warm breath tickled the side of her neck.
Her heart was still pounding, her breath kind of stuck in her throat, but….
She shook her head as a slow smile touched her mouth. “No. It wasn’t.” She peeked around his shoulder and spied Charlie nestled in her husband’s arm. Their voices were low as they talked, and Morgan slid her hands up Cooper’s chest.
“How far away from the hotel are we?”
“Ten minutes.”
She blew out a long breath and nipped at his collarbone. “Ten. Whole. Minutes.” His body shielded her from his brother, and, emboldened, she slid her hands lower.
“Don’t do it.” His whisper was harsh.
She didn’t listen. She caressed the growing bulge between his legs, smiling at the power she felt. He was hard because of her. Aroused because of her. He was here with her.
“Keep doing that, darlin’, and we might have a problem.”
She grinned in the dark. “I’m hoping we do.”
“Trust me, sweets, the kind of problem I have brewing is best served in the privacy of our suite.”
“Good to know,” she whispered. “I guess I can wait ten more minutes.” She rested her head against his chest, listened to the power of his heart, and thought that it was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.
Of course it is, idiot. You love him.
Her own heart jumped at the thought, and she felt his arms tighten around her.
“You okay?” he murmured.
“I think so,” she answered slowly.
Cooper lifted her chin and looked down at her. His long lashes swept low against his cheek. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and without saying a thing, stole another piece of her heart.
“Not the answer I want to hear, but one I can live with. For now.”
They settled back against the seat, and Morgan stared out the window at the city as they rushed by. People crowded the sidewalks, their faces shadowed, their bodies illuminated by streetlamps. She felt a weird disconnect. As if she were standing on the edge of something big and scary and life changing.
Something potentially devastating. It was a sober thought and one she had to work hard to push away. She hoped she could handle the future. Hoped she was strong enough. Because the Cooper Simon factor had pretty much thrown her for a loop.
And right now, in this moment, she wasn’t so sure she could handle the fallout.
29
April gave way to May, and Cooper was still in Fisherman’s Landing.
He’d finished his book, had a few months off until edits, and normally would have been long gone. In the past, he would have flown to Vegas or Miami and spent a few weeks drinking, partying, and having sex with the most inappropriate women he could find.
That was his MO. Work and then leave. Find a distraction to make him forget the pathetic life he led. But then, h
e’d never had a reason to stay. And even though it surprised the hell out of him, Morgan Campbell was his reason, and he was totally fine with that. She spent her nights with him, making love and making him laugh (the girl had a serious sense of humor), and her weekends camped out at his place, either in bed or nestled against his chest while they watched a movie or read a book.
It was a simple existence—at least for the moment. There’d been a flutter of pictures in the tabloids after the Bruins game, and he’d been unable to convince her to go to any of the others in the series. He got it. The tabloids probed and prodded, always on a quest to uncover something juicy. The fact that no one had been able to nail down this “mystery woman” fueled the fire even more.
His gut told him the honeymoon was nearly over. He just didn’t know how much time he had. In this day and age, it was a damn miracle no one had tracked him down to Fisherman’s Landing. It was a testament to the tight-knit community and their need to protect their own. It was also one of the reasons that made it harder for him to leave. Out here on the coast of Maine, he went about his business with a freedom he didn’t experience anywhere else.
It was liberating.
His cell phone pinged—again—and he scooped it out of his pocket. It was his agent, Seth. There were also several missed calls from his brother, one from his cousin Jack, and another from his cousin Beau. He frowned, his hand scrolling over two from an unknown number.
Something was up.
His agent was on him to fly to Europe and attend the world premiere of Soft Hands, the latest film adaptation of one of his books. Seth was like a broken record when it came to this—he did it for every single premiere. He didn’t understand why Cooper wanted to keep Lee Holloway a secret, and it was a conversation Cooper had never wanted to have with him, because there were a lot of demons he still needed to face.
Restless, he slid his cell into his pocket and glanced at the clock. It was only two thirty in the afternoon, and Morgan never showed up until around five o’clock.
He thought about Europe in May with Morgan by his side. The premiere was coming up, and not for the first time since Seth had begun pestering him did he think that maybe it was time to “come out,” so to speak.
But would Morgan go with him? Hell, he hadn’t even told her about the Holloway thing. Just the other night, they’d watched one of his movies. He’d had the chance to say something then, but it had slipped by. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just tell her?
But he knew why. Telling her about Holloway would lead to other things. To a past he’d been trying so damn hard to forget.
“Shit,” he muttered.
It was an ironic fact that this particular movie not only starred his cousin Beau, but Beau had directed it. And from what Cooper had been told, he’d done an amazing job with the material. Maverick had scored the film, and his entire family would be there for the premiere. None, save for his brother, his cousin Jack, and now his mother, knew he was Holloway.
There is someone else. He pushed the thought aside as quickly as it had come.
So what the hell was he going to do?
His phone rang, startling him, and he scooped it out of his pocket, the action without thought because he was too damn preoccupied.
“Cooper?”
He stilled as the blood that ran through his veins went ice-cold. The voice was still the same. It was raspy and whiskey soaked, the kind that sounded like a pack-a-day habit.
“Don’t hang up.” The words came slowly.
Cooper walked onto his front porch and gazed across the green grass and the riot of wildflowers that had popped up in the adjacent field. His Godzilla weather vane twirled in the late afternoon breeze, and the scent of rain was in the air.
This was his sanctuary. And she’d just invaded it.
“How’d you get this number?” He bit out the words, turning in a full circle as a wave of rain hit him in the face.
“Maverick. But don’t blame him, I didn’t really give him a choice.”
Son of a bitch. As soon as he got off the phone he was going to hop in the truck, drive to town, and kick his brother’s ass all over the goddamn state.
“What do you want?” A muscle worked its way along his jaw, and he followed the trajectory of a robin as it skimmed the edge of the tree line before bolting up over the house.
“We need to talk.”
“Never going to happen.”
There was a pause. “I’m not leaving until we do.”
“That’s your call.”
Another pause. “I’m not leaving Fisherman’s Landing until we do.”
Cooper stopped pacing and swore. He said every foul-mouthed cuss word he could think of, and none of them made his anger go away.
He eyed his truck and felt for his keys.
“Where you at?”
“This little diner—”
He was already moving toward his truck. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He was there in fifteen. Cooper strode into A Charmed Life and came to a halt as he scoped out the place. A young mother and her son sat at the counter, the little boy digging into a bowl of vanilla ice cream while his mother toyed with her phone and stole an occasional scoop. The two front booths were taken—one by four young girls who saw Cooper and immediately began whispering. The other by a teenage couple who held hands as desperately as the looks they tossed at each other over the menus.
Near the back, four older guys occupied a table, and not too far away in the last booth, he saw an elegant foot bob along to a mystery beat. He started forward. The black boot was expensive, probably Louis Vuitton, if her tastes were still the same. As he came abreast of the table, the elegant boot gave way to dark denim jeans and a green wool jacket. Long blonde hair tumbled down a narrow back, though she gazed down at the table where her hands were crossed.
She was still, and Cooper paused, scowling at the taste of bitterness in his mouth. She glanced up suddenly, and Cooper would have liked to say he was prepared for her, but he wasn’t. He was also struck by a few things. Her complexion was sallow and tired, and her makeup couldn’t hide the circles under her eyes. Her hair wasn’t as lustrous as it had once been, and she was thinner than he’d ever seen her.
Holly Adams was still a beauty, but she looked fragile as hell. She stared up at him. Licked her lips nervously and waited.
Cooper didn’t make her wait long. He slid into the booth across from her and set his phone and keys on the table. Her hands were still clasped, but when she undid them, he noticed a tan line on her ring finger. A ring finger missing the proverbial ring.
He raised his eyes and met her gaze, not liking what he saw there. Not liking the stab of fear that punched him in the gut. Suddenly filled with the urge to get this over with and leave, he decided to cut to the chase.
“Why are you here?”
She blinked slowly, as if coming awake from a long sleep, and he wondered briefly if she was medicated. She glanced away, and then she moved her full coffee cup to the side.
“You look good, Cooper. You look happy.”
“Pretty sure right now I look pissed-the-hell-off.”
A small, wistful smile touched her lips. “Is this how it’s going to be?”
“Yeah.” It was all he had, and he glared at her, angry that she was here. “Why the phone calls? The need to see me?”
She moistened her lips, and he noticed a tremble there. That earlier punch to the gut returned, and he clenched his mouth tightly, waiting for her response. Dreading it, even, but wanting this over.
“They know.” Her eyes watered, and she exhaled shakily, glancing around as if afraid someone was listening in on their conversation.
“What the hell are you getting at?” He leaned back, as if space would make a difference. But he knew what she was going to say before she said it, and as her lips moved and the words came tumbling out, he kept shaking his head, hoping it was a lie. A misunderstanding. Yet the misery reflected on her
face told him otherwise, and for the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, he felt something other than anger.
He felt pity.
“After I was released from Still Waters, I decided to stay in Switzerland. I had no desire to come back here to a career that was over, a life that was in chaos, and to a man who hated me. The stories had died down. All the lies my publicist had thrown out there had been dissected and picked apart, but because I was gone, they eventually went away.”
She kept her gaze glued to her hands, her fingers worrying the edge of a napkin as she continued. “I met someone.” Her voice broke. “A lovely, simple man who…” She smiled suddenly, but it was small and sad, and Cooper moved restlessly in his chair.
“He was a farmer, if you can believe it. I was staying in a B and B, enjoying the anonymity, and suddenly, he was in my life and he had no idea who I was. He asked me to marry him six months ago.”
Her head jerked up, and the weirdest thing occurred to Cooper. He didn’t care. Not one damn bit.
“I would have happily lived my life with Nolan. On a farm. In the low country.”
“So what happened?” She winced at his tone, but Cooper wasn’t quite there yet. Forgiveness was still way the hell off his radar.
“A few weeks ago, my apartment was vandalized. Things were stolen.” She held his gaze, and for the life of him, Cooper couldn’t look away. “Personal things. Private things.” She shuddered. “Things about you and me.”
He sat up, ramrod straight. “What are you saying?”
“They know, Cooper. About us. They know about the baby and what I did.” Her eyes welled, and she shook her head, unable to speak. She gained her composure and plunged forward. All the while, she watched him, beseeching him, begging him for something.
“They don’t care that I was sick. All they care about are the crazy things I’ve done. The drugs, the promiscuity. They don’t care that mental illness factored into every aspect of my life.”
Cooper (The Family Simon Book 6) Page 20
