“Well, I don’t.” Her head whipped up. “Why do you care anyway?”
He didn’t flinch at her tone, and his eyes never left hers. She wanted to apologize for her snarkiness but couldn’t find the words. For a few moments, he was silent, and though she wanted to look away, Morgan found she couldn’t.
“I’m not sure,” he said slowly, his voice low. “Everyone has a thing. You’re just hiding yours, and that makes me curious.”
Okay. This was getting a little too close for comfort. “What are you doing with all this stuff?” she suddenly asked, changing the subject, and none too smoothly either.
He held her gaze a heartbeat longer and then got to his feet, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as his gaze swept the room. “All these things meant something to someone at some point in time.” He shrugged. “The least I can do is get it organized and then see about getting as much of it as I can back to the folks it belongs to. The McLarens.”
That wasn’t what she’d been expecting, and he must have seen it in her face.
“What did you think I was going to do with it? Give it away?”
“Well, no,” she mumbled.
“Did you think I was going to sell it?” She could tell that bothered him. His mouth was tight, and he didn’t look so happy anymore.
“I’m not sure,” she replied. Which was a lie, because, in fact, it was what she’d expected. It was what a lot of people would do in his position. Some would think it was a hell of a lot of trouble to go to, dealing with someone else’s memories.
“There’s a right and there’s a wrong. The wrong isn’t me.” He was silent for a moment. “I guess we’ve both made some assumptions that aren’t true.” He turned and scooped up the tray and then grabbed her bowl.
Score one for Cooper Simon.
Morgan mumbled a thank-you for the food. If her mother was around, she’d have more than a few words to say about her behaviour. But her mother wasn’t around. Her heart squeezed tightly, and she bent over as soon as Cooper’s head disappeared down the stairs.
Her mother wasn’t around, and she was never coming back. The day when everything changed had happened nearly six years ago. And the thing that she couldn’t let go…the thing that weighed her down every single day?
It was all Morgan’s fault.
7
St. Patrick’s Day in Fisherman’s Landing was a cut above any other Cooper had seen—and he’d seen a lot. There was more green than a guy could handle, and he didn’t mind green, more drunks than you could shake a fist at, and more amiable women than he would like.
The green thing he could get past. Hell, the drunk thing was understandable—it was pretty much an Irish tradition. But the never-ending parade of single women or aunties with young nieces in tow or Nanas with “someone you’ve got to meet” was driving him batshit crazy.
Mostly because every time someone approached him, his sister-in-law, Charlie, would give him the look. The look was a cross between I’ll kick your ass if you even think about it, and I won’t be held responsible for what happens if you do more than think.
Thing was, he could use a good workout session between the sheets—it had been a while. For a man who was used to being looked after on a regular basis, this dry spell was starting to stir things up. Stupid things. Like the fact he was contemplating seeing just how bad an ass kicking from his sister-in-law would be.
But Cooper was quickly realizing that in a small town like Fisherman’s Landing, a low-key, casual hookup wasn’t in the cards. Mainly because the single women in town weren’t looking for that sort of thing. He saw it in their eyes. They wanted something permanent—which he got—he just wasn’t a permanent kind of guy. His brother might have found happiness in this small town, but Cooper needed a shot of bright lights every now and again. Fisherman’s Landing was where he came for a shot of creative juice—that was the only reason. Above and beyond that, he’d made a decision long ago never to fall in love again.
Not because he didn’t believe in love—he’d been there, and it had been hell. But because he figured he wasn’t wired for the long haul. It was a smart man who knew that straight up. He’d screwed up things in the past because he believed he was a better person than he was. He wasn’t going there again.
Which brought him to his current dilemma. He was going to be here for the next few months, and what he wanted was a woman looking for the same thing he was—no-strings sex. Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was such an animal in this town. At least, not that he’d met tonight. With a sigh, Cooper took another pull from his beer and rubbed the back of his neck. His shoulders were tight. His mind and body restless and…
Well, hello.
A blonde smiled at him from across the room, her shiny red lips curved into something sultry that a guy in his position wouldn’t mind tasting. The clingy green halter top she wore emphasized a great rack, and her long legs were shown off to perfection, compliments of the skintight jeans that clothed them.
He studied her for a moment… She looked familiar.
“Sara Campbell is not a good idea,” Charlie said, arching an imperious eyebrow his way and slowly shaking her head.
Campbell. Morgan’s sister.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied easily, smiling back at the woman.
“Let me elaborate, then. She’s not a good idea.”