Cooper (The Family Simon 6)

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 tak

e 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.

11

Cooper pulled on a pair of jeans, shoved his feet into his shoes, and yanked a steel-gray Henley over his head. His hair was still damp, but he slicked it back, tossed his cell phone onto the table beside his bed, and headed for the stairs. He paused at the top, realizing his heart was thumping and he was way too anxious to get to the kitchen.