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

I
sabel Simon swept
into Fisherman’s Landing like a tornado. She arrived two days early, enough Louis Vuitton luggage in tow to suggest at least a month’s stay. She’d taken exactly three steps inside Maverick’s home when her allergies kicked in, which meant that Stanley needed to stay elsewhere. Hence the reason the dog was camped out at Cooper’s.

Cooper didn’t mind the dog so much as the mess. The damned thing tracked mud all over the place, shed like a son of a bitch, and liked to chew things. Expensive things. He’d been at Cooper’s going on three days and had already managed to ruin two pairs of runners and his old work boots. The work boots he didn’t mind so much, but the runners? Hell, he’d have to drive an hour to the city to replace them.

The dog was lucky it was cute, because Cooper was sorely tempted to throw the bag of fur into the ocean.

“My luck, he’d swim back and track ocean crap all over the place.” He’d just locked Stanley in his cage after taking him for a long walk and watched the puppy flop down onto his bright blue bed. Clearly exhausted, Stanley didn’t bother to whine, as was his custom, when Cooper stepped away from the cage. He didn’t glance at the chew toy or the… Wait. Was that one of Cooper’s socks?

“Unbelievable.” Cooper stood back and stared down at the already sleeping pup. The water dish was full, and he’d tossed in a bone. He slid his hand inside and retrieved the shredded sock. Last thing he wanted was a trip to the vet’s.

Stanley would be fine.

It was Thursday, and even though he’d been conned into hosting Good Friday fish night, he hadn’t seen his mother since her arrival and couldn’t put it off any longer. Just this morning, she’d threatened to come out to his place and spend the day. How in hell would he get any work done with Isabel poking in his business? Maybe once the attic was finished, but by the looks of it, it would take Morgan a few more weeks.

Cooper scooped up his keys, took one last look around, and a few minutes later headed to town. The radio was on low, but he recognized the song. It was the same one that had played Saturday night when he’d taken Morgan home.

She’d been at his place right on time Monday morning, but the two of them never discussed her quick exit from the fire hall. She headed straight to the attic, prepared lunch in hand, and he settled in for a full day of work. Tuesday had been pretty much the same, and so had Wednesday and Thursday. They were polite to each other, but that was about it.

Not sure why, but it bothered Cooper. Even tonight, he’d wandered up there before taking the dog out back, but she was busy scribbling away in the ledger and offered a small smile and a wave on her way out a few moments later.

He decided to put Morgan Campbell out of his thoughts because thinking about her distracted him. And just as he liked to tell anyone who’d listen—he had no time for distractions. Not when he was seriously behind schedule on his latest project.

Cooper pulled in behind his brother’s truck, and less than a minute later let himself inside Maverick and Charlie’s home. A quick sniff had his stomach rumbling. Steak and lobster on the menu was always a good thing.

It was close to five, and Rick poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Charlie got hung up at the shop. I’m back here with Ma.”

Cooper doffed his jacket and wandered back to the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was unexpected—to say the least. His mother was elbow-deep in dishes, washing them by hand, while Charlie’s brother, Connor, stood beside her on a chair and dried them.

That garnered a second look. Since when did Isabel get her hands dirty?

Connor whispered something into her ear, and laughed. It was a full on body chuckle and the sound was an echo from the past. For a second, a sense of déjà vu washed over him. He gave his head a shake. Since when did Isabel like little kids?

He looked at Maverick, but his brother shrugged and offered him a beer. Taking the cold bottle from him, Cooper bent close to his mother and kissed her cheek.

Startled, she nearly dropped a dish—which elicited giggles from Connor—and shook her head. “I didn’t hear you walk in, Coop.”

“I can see that.”

“I swear you did that on purpose.” Her slow Southern drawl crept over him, and faded memories sharpened in his mind. Summers spent at the lake. Sweet tea and biscuits. The smell of lilac bushes. The cat his father brought home, that last summer. The one that had made their mother’s face light up like the sun.

“What was that cat’s name?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Maverick gave him a weird look.

“Cat?” Rick’s eyebrows shot up.

Cooper nodded. “The little orange thing. The one Dad brought home from Aunt Virginia’s.”

“Spice.”

Both boys turned to Isabel. She leaned back against the sink, drying her hands on a towel. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun that tickled her neck, and she was makeup-free. Okay. Who the hell had stolen his mother? She was dressed in well-washed jeans and a simple white shirt—sure they boasted expensive labels, but still.

Isabel tossed the towel and ruffled Connor’s head. “She was named Spice because Cooper said she looked like the brown sugar Nanny used to make her apple pies.”

Son of a bitch. She was right.

Cooper let the memory settle, took a few moments to savor it, and then cranked his head to the side, eyes on Maverick. “Dishwasher out of order?”

His brother grunted. “Not great timing considering the big meal we’ve got planned for Sunday. And the only guy in town who can fix it is laid up in the hospital.”

“Why don’t you just buy a new one?” That was a no-brainer as far as Cooper was concerned.

“Well, that’s what I said. But according to Charlie, the damn thing is only a few years old, and no way is she spending her hard-earned cash on a new one when this can be fixed.”

“What about your hard-earned cash?” Cooper knew Rick could afford to buy ten dishwashers if he wanted to.

“My goodness, boys. A few dirty dishes and your world is turned upside down.” Isabel winked at Connor. “Do you know where the bibs are for the lobster?”

“In the cupboard!” Connor shouted.

The youngster scrambled from his chair, all lanky arms and legs and slipped his hand into Isabel’s. The two of them disappeared around the corner, and Cooper could only stare after them.

“What the hell, brother?” He looked at Maverick. “Is she high?”

Rick chuckled. “Nope. Exact opposite. She’s not touched a drop of alcohol. No gin. No wine. Not even the bourbon she likes every now and again. And she’s given up smoking.”

Cooper opened his mouth to interject, but Maverick held up his hands.

“Yes. That means regular old cigarettes as well as the funky ones.”

Cooper glanced back at the door. “Huh.”

The boys didn’t get a chance to discuss their mother further. Charlie arrived, a little out of breath and a whole lot hungry. Cooper and Rick set the table while she cleaned up, and by five thirty, the five of them dug into a feast. There was the usual family talk, and Cooper settled in for a listen as he cracked open his lobster.

Charlie wanted to know if Rick had found anyone besides Lenny to come and fix the dishwasher.

No.

Rick asked Charlie if she needed him to come to her next doctor’s appointment on account he had to fly to Nashville after Easter.

Another no. Charlie was perfectly fine going to her ob-gyn on her own.

Charlie then wanted to know why Rick had to go to Nashville, and when he said he was recording with Donovan James, Connor asked if he could tag along.

That was another no.

It didn’t seem to bother the kid all that much, because, fast as you please, he switched gears and asked Rick when Stanley could come home. Rick looked at their mother, but Isabel just shrugged.

Huh. Looked like her stay could be extended.

Cooper was just reaching for a lobster tail when Charlie sat back in her chair and turned to him.

“My God, Cooper, how’s Morgan doing?”

Cooper’s hand froze midair, just for a second, and then he dropped the tail onto his plate and reached for his cracker. “She’s fine?”

“She is?” Charlie seemed relieved. “I’ve been meaning to call her, but I’ve been so busy at the shop. Saturday wasn’t easy for her.”

“I could tell.” Cooper sat back in his chair. “What got her so spooked?”

“Who’s Morgan?” Isabel piped up, dabbing at the corner of her mouth, focusing on Cooper.

“She’s a friend of Charlie’s,” he replied.

Isabel’s eyebrows rose. “And…”

Cooper sighed and sat back in his chair. He knew the look in his mother’s eye. He also knew he needed to shut her down right away.

“There is no
and
. She’s doing some work for me. Nothing more, Mother.”

“What kind of work?”

“Just work.” He didn’t want to talk about Morgan’s job. He wanted to know who the hell Martha and Nathan and Christy were. “You going to elaborate, Charlie?”

Charlie frowned. “Well, what did she tell you?”

He shook his head. “Just that she needed to leave, and I took her home.”

Charlie frowned. “So you haven’t talked to her since Saturday night?”

“Not really.” And not for lack of trying, although he wasn’t about to volunteer that information. He’d never met a female so immune to his charm. Not even Mrs. Wilson, an old Sunday school teacher of his. When he was six, she was the scariest lady any of the kids knew. On a dare, it had taken him nearly six months to get her to crack a smile. It was like winning the grand prize at the local fair.

“Well then, how do you know she’s fine?” Charlie looked concerned, and a sliver of unease hit Cooper square in the chest.

“What happened on Saturday night?” Isabel looked from Cooper to Charlie, and when neither one of them answered, she turned to Maverick. “Can someone please tell me who this Morgan person is and what happened Saturday night?”

Maverick hesitated, and then Charlie cut in. “Sorry, Isabel. Morgan is an old friend of mine, and I’ve known her since I was five. We used to figure skate and play hockey. Run track. She was the most gifted athlete I’ve ever known.” A wistful, sad sort of smile touched Charlie’s lips. “Life hasn’t exactly treated her kindly, so I was real excited to hear she was coming back to Fisherman’s Landing. Even if it was only for a few months, but…” She reached for her glass of water. “I don’t know if she’ll stay. And she should stay. This is where her family is. But now…”

“Now?” Cooper leaned forward, anxious to hear the rest.

Charlie’s eyes widened, and for a moment, Cooper thought she would change the subject. Such was the way of it here in Fisherman’s Landing. At least where Morgan Campbell was concerned.

“Now that Nathan and Christy are moving back, I’m not sure what she’s going to do.”

Silence followed her words, but only for a few seconds, because Cooper couldn’t help himself. He had to ask.

“I’m taking it Nathan and Christy have a past with Morgan.”

Charlie nodded. “Christy was her best friend and Nathan…” She sighed and tossed her napkin. “Nathan was her fiancé.”

M
organ’s week
passed in a blur. She got up each day, drove out to the McLaren estate, and hid in the attic. She couldn’t even say she got much work done. Oh, she moved things around and wrote in the ledger, but it didn’t seem as if she accomplished anything. Truthfully, if she could have stayed in bed all week, she would have.

Morgan pulled up to her usual spot and cut the engine. It was nearly one in the afternoon, and she was late by about four hours. In her defense, she hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, must have forgotten to set her alarm, and her cell phone died.

She would have stayed home, except the thought of listening to her father complain about pretty much everything while working his way through a twelve-pack of Bud wasn’t high up on her list of things to do. Which was why she’d dragged her ass out of bed, had a quick shower, and snuck out of the house without her dad even knowing.

She was pretty sure Cooper wouldn’t notice her lateness anyway. He spent all his time in the outbuilding, doing God knows what, and she came and went as she pleased. It was the perfect job, really. Gave her a lot of space, and considering the news she’d been hit with Sunday afternoon, she needed it.

Nathan and Christy. Here. In Fisherman’s Landing.

And not just for a visit. According to Sara, who’d heard the news from Mindy Delmonte, they were looking to buy a home. Seemed as if Nathan was going to join his father’s small law firm after all, and Christy would be coaching gymnastics at the competitive gym the next town over.

A dull ache pressed into her chest. In another lifetime, it would have been Morgan.

Slowly she got out of the car and headed into the house. She let herself in, hung up her jacket, discarded her boots, and padded down the hall to the kitchen. She opened the fridge to stow her lunch and, well, took a step back. There was actually food in the darn thing. Real food. She took a few moments to reorganize the top shelf so she could fit her lunch inside and then headed for the stairs.

She stepped onto the landing and took exactly two steps forward when her world tipped a little off-center. Cooper Simon stood near the bathroom, his back to her, naked as the day he was born.

Shit. She jerked back and barely managed to grab the railing. Her heart took off like a rocket as her eyes found their way back to Cooper.

He held his cell phone to his ear and obviously had no idea she was there. He nodded to whoever was on the other end, turned sideways, and she squeaked.

Good Lord but she had good reason to squeak. Cooper Simon was beautiful. Like the kind of beautiful that could make someone like Morgan Campbell forget how tired she was and how much her leg ached. Heck, she nearly forgot to keep hold of the railing, and at the last minute tightened her grip, because how embarrassing would it be to fall down the stairs and snap her neck. She could see the headline now:
Morgan Campbell Killed by Naked Cooper.

Just out of the shower, his skin glistened, emphasizing the hard lines and planes of his body. He was tall, with broad shoulders, defined muscles—his glutes were amazing—and a tattoo on his side gave him an edge that most women would find irresistible. It snaked up his rib cage, all charcoal and black lines and…

Then something happened that made Morgan wish she could disappear altogether. Cooper turned and faced her, still chatting on the phone, still unaware she was perched at the top of the stairs. His chest was thrust forward, one arm stretched behind his head—which was tipped back—and his gaze was on the ceiling.

Her stomach dropped, like all the way to the basement, and dammit, she should have closed her eyes. Slammed those puppies shut as soon as he turned. But she didn’t. In fact, they were wide open, and all that focus she seemed to have lost throughout the week? It was back. Big-time.

Gorgeous chest.

To-die-for abs.

Flat stomach.

And…

Oh. My.

She confirmed what her brain already knew. Cooper Simon was beautiful. Every single delicious inch of him was so damn—

A throat cleared.

Perfect.

Then a cough.

And big.

Since Morgan’s eyes were the only things that currently worked, they squeezed shut even as a voice in her brain screamed
, run!
How long did she stand there like an idiot with cheeks burning hot and probably as red as the apples on her kitchen table? Who knew, but it was long enough for Cooper to grab a towel, because when she finally managed to open her eyes, he was grinning at her in a way that made her insides turn to liquid. Cooper was no longer naked. A navy-blue towel sat dangerously low on his hips.

Not that it mattered. She’d seen everything he owned.

They looked across the landing at each other, and the longer the silence grew, the redder her face got. The redder her face got, the deeper his smile became.

“Sorry.” How he could speak through his grin was beyond Morgan. Also? He was so not sorry.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.” She was so damn embarrassed, it wasn’t funny. “I just…You had no clothes on, and that, well… That startled me.”

Jesus, Morgan. Stop talking.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you until Monday.”

“Oh, I…” Morgan cleared her throat, confused. “I didn’t know I had Fridays off?”

“Normally, you wouldn’t, but it’s Good Friday, and we chatted about it. Remember?”

Easter weekend.
Right.
She’d been so distracted she’d forgotten it was early this year.

“I’m an idiot. I forgot.” She offered a wan smile. “It’s been a weird week.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I should go.”

“No. Don’t leave.”

She turned back to Cooper. His expression was unreadable.

“Sorry?” she asked lightly, unsure and a little confused.

“You’ve made the trip out already, and I could actually use some help.” A slow smile spread across his face. “That’s if you had no other plans?”

“No, I…” She found herself stumbling over her words. “That is, I was planning on working for the day, so…” She took a moment, because suddenly, her heart was in her throat. “What did you have in mind?”

Cooper ran a hand through his damp hair, and she tried her best not to stare at his chest as he did so. Unlike a lot of men these days, he had chest hair. The guy was well-groomed, of course, but the sprinkling of hair made him appear that much more male. And, well, she liked that. A lot.

“I’m having Rick and Charlie out for dinner in a few hours, and I’m running behind.” Morgan felt herself wavering. She thought of the food in the fridge. Now it all made sense.

“I know cooking isn’t exactly part of your job description, but I meant it when I said I could use the help.”

Morgan hesitated for all of two seconds. Sara had gone out of town—a last-minute girls’ trip to the city—and with her father home nursing a twelve-pack, she’d take a few hours out here over his company. He made it clear on most days that he preferred to be alone, and Morgan was more than fine letting him be. She could only take so much abuse.

“Okay,” she said quietly.

Cooper looked surprised, but then that damn smile of his lit up his face, and she found herself smiling in return.

“Okay,” he repeated. “Good. I’ll meet you in the kitchen?” He glanced down at himself. “I should get dressed.”

Just then, a bundle of fur came barreling out of Cooper’s bedroom, a sock hanging from its mouth. Morgan squinted. Or was that a pair of socks?

“Stanley,” Cooper barked.

The dog came to a sudden stop, its big head swiveling around, before spying Cooper. It took off again, shaking its head and dropping the socks as it yipped excitedly. Nails clicked on the wood floor, and the pup’s barks rose dramatically as it lunged at Cooper. If not for his reflexes, Morgan would have gotten another look at every inch of the man.

Cooper swore and glared at the dog as he secured the towel.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Morgan said, trying to hide a laugh. The puppy wagged its tail outrageously as it tried repeatedly to jump and nip at Cooper’s towel.

“Can you take this bag of fur with you?”

She nodded. “Sure. Come on, Stanley. I’ll find you a treat.”

That’s all it took. One word, and the towel was forgotten. Stanley bounded after Morgan as if the devil was on his tail. He slid past her and ran down the stairs, disappearing around the corner before she made it to the bottom.

“Thanks again.”

She looked up and spied Cooper watching her from over the railing. “No problem. Just…” She smiled at him. “Put some clothes on.”

Her face still warm, her steps noticeably lighter, Morgan made her way to the kitchen. She rooted through the cupboards until she found a box of treats for the dog. And while Stanley munched away happily on his Milk-Bone she got to work.

She’d been in a funk all week. It was time to let some of that weight go.

She threw open the window above the sink and inhaled a shot of crisp New England air. The sun was shining, and maybe today would be a good day. Humming to herself, not thinking about anything other than how light she felt right now, in this moment, Morgan unzipped her sweater, tossed it onto a chair, and opened the fridge.