Cooper (The Family Simon 6)

“Oh, sweets,

” Cooper murmured, his hands holding her tight.

“After that, everything I had slipped away. My dreams. My dad. My family. My fiancé and my best friend. All of it disappeared.”

All if it was my fault.

“If I hadn’t looked at my cell for that one second. If I hadn’t insisted my mother come with me. If I—”

She didn’t know tears were coursing down her face until his hand swept across her cheeks to wipe them away. And then he cupped her chin, turned her around, and pulled her close. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she felt so safe and wanted. So protected.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “Hey.” His fingers forced her head up, and she had no choice. What she saw there surprised her. Cooper Simon looked pissed off.

“What happened to you was a tragic accident. Tragic. Accident. You got that? You hit black ice.”

“But I looked at my phone.”

“You still would have hit the black ice.”

He didn’t get it.

“I should have stayed home. Should never have forced my mom—”

“Don’t do that.” He shook his head. “If your mom was anything like you, I’m pretty damn sure no one could force her to do something she didn’t want to do. The past can’t be changed. Trust me, I’ve tried. It’s a bitch that knows no master, so there’s no point. All you can do is learn what you can from your mistakes and move on. We don’t honor the dead by living our days as if we’d died with them.”

Something in his tone got to her, and Morgan jumped on it. “Have you?” she asked, watching him closely. She was on to something. She felt it. “Have you moved on?”

He was tense, and for a few moments, she wasn’t sure he’d answer her. But then he shrugged and pulled her back into him. He rested his chin on top of her head and slid his hands down her body until they rested at the small of her back.

“I’m trying,” he said simply. A heartbeat passed. “Promise me you will.”

Could she?

Morgan didn’t answer because her vocal chords no longer worked. She sank into Cooper, and when his hands cupped her ass once more—when she felt his burgeoning erection against her stomach—she reached for him because she needed to forget.

She grabbed hold of his mouth and kissed him until she was dizzy. Until both of them were panting and hot and aroused and filled with a need to connect. Cooper was her connection. Her conduit back to the living. Was it a connection that would last? Would it save her?

Or would it bite her in the ass?

He lifted her up into his arms and carried her back to bed. Morgan wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to slay the ghosts that haunted her. But in this cocoon they’d built overnight, right now, here with Cooper, she was more than able to forget about everything except him.

And for now, it was enough.

25

Cooper kept Morgan to himself for as long as he could, but by late afternoon, she needed to get back to Fisherman’s Landing. Her cell had pinged several times, and each time she looked at it, a little bit of the sunshine left her eyes. He tried to convince her to stay one more night, but with a soft smile, she shook her head and said she needed to be home.

He didn’t want to pry—he knew she needed her space, especially after the intense few days they’d shared—but hell, the shadows that clung to her face bothered him, and it took everything he had to let her go without a fight.

It was early Sunday evening. The sun was on its way down, and he’d just dropped Morgan off at her place. They’d shared one last kiss that had them both wriggling in their seats like teenage sex addicts, and then he’d driven off. It was either that or take her in the front seat of his truck; not gonna lie, he was down for that.

Hot under the collar—the thought of heading back out to his place made Cooper twitchy—he didn’t want to be alone. He needed noise. A distraction. Someone to talk to. Cooper abruptly changed course and swung his truck around, heading for the Devil’s Gate. Once in the parking lot, he pulled out his cell phone, and Maverick answered on the second ring.

“About time.” His brother’s voice filled his ear, and Cooper sat back in the truck, thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, eyes on a group moving into the bar. “I’ve called you at least ten times in the last two days, and I’m pretty sure Mom has too.”

“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”

“So I hear.”