Cooper (The Family Simon 6)

She was sore—with a wince, she managed to move her right leg—holy hell was she sore. She wasn’t exactly sure what time they’d headed up to Cooper’s room—she only knew they’d been well onto fourths, and fifths. Each of them giving and taking until they’d exhausted themselves.

She stifled a groan. Of course, even then Cooper had come up with another, more inventive way of making love. No wonder she was sore.

She glanced at him, her gaze moving hungrily across the planes of his face. Shadows crept over his high cheekbones and drifted low across his strong jaw. Hair disheveled and sporting several days’ worth of whiskers, he looked sexy as hell. And that mouth, holy hell, his mouth should be insured for millions of dollars, because no one could give pleasure like that.

Still fast asleep, his features were relaxed, and she saw the boy he used to be. God, he was beautiful.

Beautiful. He’d used that word the night before. Beautiful and Morgan were two words that had been divorced for years.

Suddenly anxious, Morgan carefully detangled her limbs and lifted his arm from her belly. Carefully, she tossed aside the covers and, not bothering to cover herself, slipped from the bed. It was a throwback to the person she used to be, but it was a throwback she didn’t take the time to think about.

A glance at the clock on the table beside the bed told her it was early, barely six in the morning. Stretching muscles that ached and wincing at the sharp pain in her leg, she wandered over to the window, limping a bit. The pain was worth it. A smile tugged at her mouth.

Totally worth it.

She parted the flimsy curtains and spied a robin staring back at her from its perch in the tree across the way. The bird ruffled its feathers, cocked its head, and then, without warning, took off. She watched until it disappeared from sight and then let the curtain fall back into place.

The pile of books she’d spied weeks ago when she’d first cleaned Cooper’s place was still at the end of his bed, and she took a closer look. She ran her fingers down the spines of them, stopping at a few, mouth pursed in amusement. Cooper Simon had an eclectic reading habit. Everything from Aldous Huxley’s Doors of Perception, to The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Anne Rice, and Nicholas Sparks. Her grin widened when she spied a hardback by Nora Roberts.

She glanced back at the bed, frowning. She knew nothing about this man. Only what she’d read online. There were no pictures on the dresser—hell, there was still a suitcase full of clothes opened and propped up near the window. Nothing personal for her to tap into and nothing personal that spoke of permanence.

He’d be leaving soon, of that there was no doubt, and Morgan had to be okay with that.

An ache bloomed inside her, and she moved away from the dresser, gaze wandering the room until she spied a large mirror leaning against the wall beside the door. She’d not noticed it the night before, and with a few halting steps found herself standing in front of it.

It looked like an antique, with a heavy frame, and at first she looked everywhere but at her reflection. She noticed the paint on the ceiling was peeling, and that the worn wooden planks beneath her feet had been recently refinished. Wallpaper still adorned three of the four walls, and the door to her immediate right led to the bathroom.

Heart picking up speed, Morgan stood trembling. How long did she stand there like an idiot, naked and exposed? She had no idea. It could have been a few seconds or a few minutes. Eventually, her gaze fell back to the mirror, and her large eyes stared back at her.

For someone who’d avoided the sun like the plague over the last few years, she wasn’t as pale as she thought she’d be. Nope. Her skin still tingled from a night of lovemaking and… Her gaze narrowed as she peered closer. Good God, was that whisker burn on her inner thigh? Cheeks warm, she stood straight and, with a now-critical eye, studied the image reflected back at her.

Her long legs were no longer muscular, honed from hours of track, but they were toned and athletic. She was softer now, rounded in the hips, probably from age and the fact that she no longer ran, but her stomach was flat. She trailed her fingers down her lower belly, groaning once more when she spied the telltale signs that Cooper had spent more than his fair share of time downtown.

She’d never had big breasts, but they were firm and rounded, her nipples a light shade of pink. Her hair hung down past her shoulders, and with trembling fingers, she shoved a large chunk of it behind her and turned slightly, eyes on the dappled, damaged skin that covered her right side, shoulder and arm.

No longer was it a shade of angry red. Not like the last time she’d actually studied herself this way. The skin grafts and surgeries had helped, and yet the imperfection was still hard for her to take. She would have turned away, except Cooper sidled up behind her and slipped his strong arms around her waist, effectively trapping her against him.

Slowly, her gaze moved upward until she met his in the mirror. For a moment, she caught sight of something that made her freeze. It wasn’t pity or disgust. It was pain. A reflection of her own.

Never had she felt so exposed, and she swallowed thickly, trying to get rid of that damp lump that kept appearing at the most inconvenient times.

His arms tightened, and she felt the heat of him as he drew her backward. He dropped a kiss to her damaged shoulder, and her heart hurt at the sight. Suddenly rocked by a hoard of emotion and memory, she began to tremble.

“It was a car accident,” she said, the words finding their way out, even though her throat was tight and her teeth clamped down. “I was home from school. Had just won a big meet and was eligible to qualify for the Olympics.” She paused, fighting the tears that stung. “I was so happy. Nathan was coming home, and I…I had everything I wanted. Until I didn’t.”

She paused, hating the taste of bitterness and fear. God, she was so sick of it.

“We’d gone shopping that day. My mom and I. She didn’t want to go. The weather was bad, and they’d been saying all day another storm was coming our way, but she’d promised to buy me a new dress for my engagement party, and I had to have it that day. Nathan and I were announcing the following evening. We were at the mall for a few hours and left the city for home at four o’clock. I remember the skies were angry gray, full of snow clouds. And the winds were high. So strong it whistled and whipped ice pellets at us. I can still hear that sound. It’s one of the reasons I hate New England so much.”

She exhaled. “Mom wanted to stop at a small town up the way. She knew the storm was worsening, but I wanted to see Nathan so bad, I begged her to let me keep going. Told her we’d be fine. Told her the truck was four-wheel drive and nothing could touch us. We were ten minutes from home when my cell phone pinged. I knew it was Nathan. Knew he was worried because we were nearly an hour late with the storm.”

Throat tight, she pushed back that damn lump and plunged forward. She hadn’t told anyone this. Ever.

“I glanced down at my cell. I had it nestled in the compartment between the two front seats. It was only for a second. I saw his name, and then we hit a patch of black ice.” She paused and caught his gaze in the mirror. “Have you ever hit black ice?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “Our car skidded sideways, and I don’t remember much after that. I know that we did a one-eighty and then slammed into a transport truck carrying a load of fuel. We flipped over, my mother was ejected, and I was trapped in the car when it landed in the ditch.”

She closed her eyes. Images and smells inundated her brain with. Cold. Fire. Burning flesh. Her flesh. The light from her cell phone. Nathan’s name illuminated and burned into her brain.

“The trucker pulled me out, or I would have died. But my mom…” Morgan was breathing heavily now, and she shook her head. “She didn’t make it. She died at the scene. I remember seeing her there in the snow. She looked like she was sleeping, you know? And I tried to get to her, but my leg was so busted and my skin was falling off, and then…then I passed out and woke up days after her funeral.”