Cooper (The Family Simon Book 6) (17 page)

Nathan’s head jerked. “Cooper Simon?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Cooper Simon. All the rumors are true.”

“I don’t think he’s…” Nathan fumbled over his words. “Do you know what you’re doing? I don’t think he’s good for you.”

“Well it’s a good thing I don’t give a crap what you think, now is it?” She grabbed her purse. “Here’s something you can pass on to Christy.” Morgan paused, aware she was causing a bit of a stir but not giving a damn. The “gang of four” were three tables over, and all of them turned to watch.

“Tell her to stop messaging me and asking me if I’m okay. Tell her to stop messaging my sister or talking to anyone with an ear, wanting to know how I am. Tell her I am better than ever. I won’t give either one of you the forgiveness you’re looking for because I don’t care to. I really don’t. I hope you both have a nice life, because, honestly, you deserve each other.”

Jessie came up then, a fresh pot of coffee in her hand, a worried expression on her face.

“I’m good, Jess.” Morgan motioned toward Nathan. “But he looks like he needs one. Black with two sweeteners.”

She pushed past Jessie and headed outside. The sun was full-on shining, the birds were singing, and for the first time in forever, her steps were as light as her heart.

She found herself humming a tune as she hopped into her car and headed out toward the McLaren estate. She was looking forward to her day. Hell, to the entire week and whatever it might bring.

For a girl on the path to renewal? What a beautiful thing that was.

C
ooper wrote
like a bat out of hell. Seriously. He’d not been this inspired in years, and by five in the morning, he’d typed the last two words any author welcomes.

The end.

He took a break—made some coffee—and after a quick look-over, fired off the final draft to his agent and editor. He downed another cup and subsequently fell asleep on the sofa, waking up hours later to find the sun streaming in and hitting him in the face. Squinting, he rolled over and cursed at the pain in his stiff neck. Of course it wasn’t as bad as the pain in his head, and with a dark look thrown at the empty bottle of whiskey, Cooper staggered into the shower just off his office.

He stood under the hot spray for a long time, head down, letting the water roll over his bare back while he waited for the pain to abate. He used his hands to brace his body, and with his head resting against the cool tiles, closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of water on skin.

Lulled by the sound of the spray, he might have fallen asleep standing up—a testament to how tired his mind and body were—but a small sound caught his ear, and he stilled, glancing to the side.

Someone was there.

Suddenly alert, Cooper jerked his head up, and then a slow, wicked grin slid across his face when he realized who that someone was. Morgan.

His grin widened. She was undressing.

Letting his head fall back, he tried to relax, but already his body was responding to the thought of her. He glanced down at his awakening cock and clamped his jaw shut.

The door slid open behind him, and he quivered in anticipation, telling himself to take it slow. But that thought flew out the window when her small hands slid across his back and then around his midsection in a hug.

“Long way to come for a shower,” he murmured, turning his head to the side. He was immediately rewarded with a glimpse of creamy skin and long, wet ropes of silky dark hair.

“It is.” She kissed his back. “And I’ve already had one.”

Just the sound of her voice had his cock twitching, and Cooper gave up all pretense of trying to hold back. With a growl, he turned around, gaze moving hungrily over her curves.

“Sweets, there is no pleasure in showering alone.” His hands cupped her breasts. “Just sayin’.”

Her eyes sparkled, and a soft smile played around the edges of her mouth. His thoughts went immediately south. He wanted that mouth, so he bent lower. He wanted it now.

Cooper swept his lips across hers, his mind and body wide awake and raring to go. No longer was he tired and spent or hungover. He was tight and ready and hard as rock. Just like that, one touch from Morgan, and he was a new man.

He pulled her against him, loving the way the water slid across her skin as his hands zipped around back and cupped her ass. He pressed his erection into her stomach while he parted her lips with his tongue.

She tasted like heaven, and he kissed her like he was starving. What was it about this woman and her mouth? She whimpered beneath him, and he kneaded her ass, thrusting against her with an urgent need that made him ache.

She kissed him back, her passion real and raw—nothing about Morgan was staged. There wasn’t a coy or calculating bone in her body. Their tongues tangled and danced, and when he would have sunk his fingers inside her, she wouldn’t let him.

Morgan became the aggressor, and he smiled as she pushed him back against the tiles. She looked like an Amazon, all sinewy legs and that long tangle of wet hair falling across her breasts.

Hmmm. Her breasts. He reached for one, and she groaned as his fingers teased the tip, then hissed when he pressed harder. He would have followed up with his mouth, but she shook her head, and in that moment, the power she wielded was something fierce.

Cooper fucking loved it.

“No touching,” she said throatily as her hands trailed across his chest.

His eyebrow shot up, and she grinned wickedly. “No touching for you.”

“Doesn’t seem fair.”

“Just wait.” Her reply was heated, her eyes sultry. “What does this mean?” she asked, leaning forward and sliding her tongue across his taut ab. His tattoo glistened as the water rolled over it, and he tensed, his erection more than a little painful.

“A tattoo.”

“I see that.” Her tongue flicked over him again. “What does it mean?”

“You really want to do this now?”

“Sure do.” She traced the bold, black lines, her touch light, and he snarled as his gut tightened with pleasure.

“My father loved to draw.”

“He was talented.” Her damn tongue was going to be the death of him.

Voice thick, Cooper continued, his gaze glued to the woman before him. “He was. Not many people knew that. A couple of years ago, on his birthday, Maverick and I got drunk and went to a tattoo parlor, where we proceeded to get drunker. I woke up with this, but Rick wasn’t so lucky.”

Her fingers still trailed the lines down his side, and he groaned when she bit him.

“No? What happened to Rick?”

“Reba happened.”

“Reba?” Morgan giggled, and to Cooper, it was pretty much the sweetest sound ever. “Was she a girlfriend?”

“No.” He half grinned, half grimaced as she bent close and licked his nipple. “A dog.”

Her head shot up at that. “Maverick has a dog’s name tattooed on his body.”

“If he was smart he got it removed.” Cooper chuckled. “I’m gonna have to ask Charlie about that.”

She was still running her hands along his body, her perky breasts just out of reach. When her fingers dropped to his groin, he gritted his teeth because it was damn hard to keep control. He reached for her again, intent on finishing what she’d started, but she slowly shook her head and…

Goddamn.

Slid to her knees.

“Morgan.”

It was all he got out, because her fingers slid around the base of his cock, and she gently squeezed him. “Do you like that?” she asked, voice throaty and sexy as hell.

“Is that even a question?” he ground out.

She pumped him slowly and moved closer. “This better?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer, because her mouth was on his balls, and she suckled him while pumping him at the same time.

Cooper’s head fell back against the tiles, and maybe it hurt, but if it did, it only made the pleasure happening between his legs that much better.

“Sweets, you’re killing me.”

“That’s the idea.” Her voice was like whiskey over ice, sexy as hell and full of naughty promise. She took him into her mouth, and Cooper’s blood boiled.

God. The feel of her hot, wet mouth on him made Cooper see stars. He blinked and cleared his head, then glanced down because he needed to see her. The sight of Morgan on her knees between his legs, her mouth on him, sucking and stroking, was a sight he’d take to the grave.

She smiled up at him, a wicked, naughty thing that played around the edges of her mouth. With one more stroke of her hand, she licked her way up from the base and took all of him in.

“Damn.” Voice hoarse and balls tight, he grimaced, not in pain but in the most amazing pleasure ever. His hands crept down to tangle in her hair, and he held her gently. Her lips and tongue and fingers were everywhere, and as she increased the tempo and took him deeper, he felt his orgasm building. He couldn’t help himself. It was coming fast and hard and he…

“Sweets, I…” He tried to pull back, but she refused, those pale eyes of hers on him and, dammit, did she actually wink? His jaw clamped tight. This angel between his legs actually winked.

He was there on the edge, and there was no stopping him. He roared his release, the sound almost inhuman as it echoed in the shower, and came so hard, he saw white. He came into her mouth, and she held steady, taking everything he had, and Lord, the noises she made. They drove him crazy.

When he was done—when he was weak from some of the best sex he’d ever had—she slowly got to her feet and grabbed the bodywash. He didn’t say a word as she scrubbed him from head to toe. He couldn’t. His chest was tight with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.

It was powerful, though, and that was enough to give him pause. What was he doing with Morgan? What was she becoming to him?

He reached behind her and turned off the water. It had long gone cold, but neither one of them noticed. Cooper grabbed his towel and tied it around his waist before grabbing another and wrapping Morgan in it. He scooped her into his arms and padded across his office to the main room of the outbuilding. He didn’t stop until he reached the kitchen area and set her on the counter.

“Omelet?” he asked as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world for them to be half-naked in his workplace.

“Sure,” she replied softly.

He pulled eggs from the fridge—checked the expiry date because he couldn’t remember when he’d last stocked his fridge—and got busy making them some breakfast. He had peppers and onion and cheese and stood back for a look. He’d folded them perfectly, and with a little salsa on the side, they’d do.

He glanced up quickly, aware of Morgan’s gaze on him, and caught her tugging up the side of her towel until it was tucked beneath her chin.

“You cold?” he asked casually, walking back to the island where she was still perched.

“No, I’m…I’m good.”

Something flickered in her eyes, and it was something he didn’t want to see ever again. Cooper reached for her towel and tugged it down, exposing her breasts and upper body.

She gasped and then glared at him. He ignored it and leaned forward.

“Don’t hide from me, Morgan. Not ever. There is not one part of you that should ever be hidden.” The air between them crackled, charged with emotion-fueled electricity. Goose bumps rolled across his skin, and he held her gaze until her anger disappeared. Until her chest rose and fell and the color in her face deepened to a pink flush.

His mouth dropped to her chest, to the rosy tips begging for his touch, and he kissed them tenderly, his hands cupping them and kneading them gently as he suckled and tugged. He trailed a line of kisses upward, his mouth sliding across smooth skin and skin that was rough and damaged. She was trembling, and when he finally reached her mouth, the taste of salt stopped him cold so that he drew back just enough to see her properly.

Her eyes shimmered with tears, and she looked so damn fragile, it killed him. Chest tight, heart beating a slow, heavy beat, he leaned forward and kissed the corners of each one before sliding across her cheeks and back to her mouth.

“Stay with me the week. Don’t go home.”

She blew out a long breath. “Aren’t you working?”

“I’m done.”

Her head dropped, and her bottom lip quivered. “Doesn’t that mean you’re leaving?”

Cooper shook his head. “No.” His answer should have surprised him, but it didn’t. He kissed her again. “Stay with me?”

He waited, unsure of her reply and more than a little rattled by the fact that he wanted her to say yes so badly, it hurt.

“What are we going to do for an entire week out here?” she asked, a bit of the devil returning to her voice.

Cooper smiled wickedly, his hands tugging the towel off her completely. His hot gaze moved down her body, and he reached for her knees, opening them wide. He forgot about the omelets. Hell, he forgot about pretty much everything except the woman in front of him. He pulled her to the edge of the counter, his blood boiling because he could see she was already wet. And swollen. And so damn ready for him.

It made him feel like a king.

What are we going to do?

He smiled savagely, eyes on the prize. “We’re going to eat.”

O
ctober 30
, 1951

We did it. I can’t believe I’m really a woman now, but I am. WE DID IT. I’ve wanted to for so long, but I was scared. Why, just last week, one of the Colter girls, Evelyn, according to my mother, got herself in the family way. It’s quite the scandal around these parts, and she’s already been sent to her auntie in North Carolina. I feel bad for her because her reputation is ruined. At church service, I heard Moxie Daniels wonder how on earth she’d be able to show her face in town again.

Honestly, it makes me a little mad. Everyone knows it was Biff Chamberlain who ruined her. And he’s already got two other girls in the family way. Why does he get off scot-free?

But Thomas and I were careful, and he promised me he’d never put me in that position. We’ve done it three times, and it’s not so bad. Can’t lie, the first time hurt, but I could tell he felt real good. Last night was much better, and I think I’m starting to see what some of the fuss is about. I felt funny and hot, and now it’s all I can think about.

I’ve never felt so close to a person before. It’s like when Thomas was inside me, we were one person. It was so weird and beautiful and scary. And he kept telling me he loved me and that one day we’re going to get married.

Gosh, can you imagine? Mrs. Thomas McLaren?

V.P.

M
organ smiled
, tracing the little hearts drawn all over this latest
journal entry.

“What’s that?” Cooper came up behind her and dropped a kiss to her neck. Never failed. Instant reaction. Shivering, Morgan closed the book, wanting more. She was sprawled on the sofa in front of the fireplace and turned over onto her back, watching Cooper as he squatted beside her. God, he smelled good. With his hair damp from the shower and curling around his collar, she wanted nothing more than to sink her hands into the waves and kiss him until they ended up naked.

Again.

He tapped the journal in her hands, and she glanced down at the book.

“It’s like a diary. I found it in the attic when I first came here. I think it belongs to Thomas McLaren’s wife. Or at least someone he was involved with in the fifties.”

Together they’d spent the entire week cleaning out the rest of the attic, and now everything was in boxes in the shop. The space up there was incredible, and just the day before, they’d spent hours online shopping, outfitting the entire attic with new furniture and art. It would be beautiful when finished.

“My lawyer called me today. He thinks he’s found some of the McLarens.”

She sat up. “That’s wonderful. Where?”

“Rhode Island and South Carolina. He’s reaching out and will get back to me once he knows more.”

She noticed a large envelope in his hand. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Cooper tossed the envelope on the coffee table and got to his feet. “Just something for work.” His tone was light, but the look on his face told her it wasn’t “nothing.” “You ready? The car will be here soon.”

Right. The hockey game. Envelope forgotten, her stomach took a dip at the thought.

“Hey, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” His hands crept up along her jaw. “Just say the word, and I’ll tell Maverick to give the tickets to someone else. I’m sure he won’t have a problem.”

“No, I’m…I’m just being silly.”

She wanted to go. A) she loved hockey and B) it was the playoffs. But watching the game from home snuggled on the sofa with the hottest man she’d ever known was one thing. Sharing a box seat with him in a very public place was something else entirely. The thought made her nervous and scared and mad that she felt nervous and scared.

“Will people take our picture?”

His eyes darkened, and he dropped a kiss to her mouth. “Not if I can help it, but, sweets, I can’t promise they won’t.” He gave her a crooked smile. “The Simons always attract attention, and for some reason, they seem to like my face.”

She pushed at him. “Could have something to do with the fact you look a hell of a lot like your cousin Beau. And he just happens to be the hottest actor on the planet.”

“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.

* * *

T
he 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.