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There were a few seconds of silence, and then Cooper’s warm voice slid over her. “That’s my other superpower.”

She chanced a look into his eyes and saw something that startled her. It wasn’t just sympathy or compassion. It was knowledge. He’d known pain.

“What’s that, exactly?”

“Knowing when to cut and run.”

Morgan stepped back and, with a small wave, headed into the house. Already her cell phone was buzzing, the ringtone “Born in the USA.” It was Hank. He’d spied her on the way out, but she’d pretended not to notice. She’d deal with him later.

That was her superpower. Avoidance.

9

Isabel Simon swept into Fisherman’s Landing like a tornado. She arrived two days early, enough Louis Vuitton luggage in tow to suggest at least a month’s stay. She’d taken exactly three steps inside Maverick’s home when her allergies kicked in, which meant that Stanley needed to stay elsewhere. Hence the reason the dog was camped out at Cooper’s.

Cooper didn’t mind the dog so much as the mess. The damned thing tracked mud all over the place, shed like a son of a bitch, and liked to chew things. Expensive things. He’d been at Cooper’s going on three days and had already managed to ruin two pairs of runners and his old work boots. The work boots he didn’t mind so much, but the runners? Hell, he’d have to drive an hour to the city to replace them.

The dog was lucky it was cute, because Cooper was sorely tempted to throw the bag of fur into the ocean.

“My luck, he’d swim back and track ocean crap all over the place.” He’d just locked Stanley in his cage after taking him for a long walk and watched the puppy flop down onto his bright blue bed. Clearly exhausted, Stanley didn’t bother to whine, as was his custom, when Cooper stepped away from the cage. He didn’t glance at the chew toy or the… Wait. Was that one of Cooper’s socks?

“Unbelievable.” Cooper stood back and stared down at the already sleeping pup. The water dish was full, and he’d tossed in a bone. He slid his hand inside and retrieved the shredded sock. Last thing he wanted was a trip to the vet’s.

Stanley would be fine.

It w

as Thursday, and even though he’d been conned into hosting Good Friday fish night, he hadn’t seen his mother since her arrival and couldn’t put it off any longer. Just this morning, she’d threatened to come out to his place and spend the day. How in hell would he get any work done with Isabel poking in his business? Maybe once the attic was finished, but by the looks of it, it would take Morgan a few more weeks.

Cooper scooped up his keys, took one last look around, and a few minutes later headed to town. The radio was on low, but he recognized the song. It was the same one that had played Saturday night when he’d taken Morgan home.

She’d been at his place right on time Monday morning, but the two of them never discussed her quick exit from the fire hall. She headed straight to the attic, prepared lunch in hand, and he settled in for a full day of work. Tuesday had been pretty much the same, and so had Wednesday and Thursday. They were polite to each other, but that was about it.

Not sure why, but it bothered Cooper. Even tonight, he’d wandered up there before taking the dog out back, but she was busy scribbling away in the ledger and offered a small smile and a wave on her way out a few moments later.

He decided to put Morgan Campbell out of his thoughts because thinking about her distracted him. And just as he liked to tell anyone who’d listen—he had no time for distractions. Not when he was seriously behind schedule on his latest project.

Cooper pulled in behind his brother’s truck, and less than a minute later let himself inside Maverick and Charlie’s home. A quick sniff had his stomach rumbling. Steak and lobster on the menu was always a good thing.

It was close to five, and Rick poked his head out from the kitchen.

“Charlie got hung up at the shop. I’m back here with Ma.”

Cooper doffed his jacket and wandered back to the kitchen. The sight that greeted him was unexpected—to say the least. His mother was elbow-deep in dishes, washing them by hand, while Charlie’s brother, Connor, stood beside her on a chair and dried them.

That garnered a second look. Since when did Isabel get her hands dirty?

Connor whispered something into her ear, and laughed. It was a full on body chuckle and the sound was an echo from the past. For a second, a sense of déjà vu washed over him. He gave his head a shake. Since when did Isabel like little kids?

He looked at Maverick, but his brother shrugged and offered him a beer. Taking the cold bottle from him, Cooper bent close to his mother and kissed her cheek.

Startled, she nearly dropped a dish—which elicited giggles from Connor—and shook her head. “I didn’t hear you walk in, Coop.”

“I can see that.”

“I swear you did that on purpose.” Her slow Southern drawl crept over him, and faded memories sharpened in his mind. Summers spent at the lake. Sweet tea and biscuits. The smell of lilac bushes. The cat his father brought home, that last summer. The one that had made their mother’s face light up like the sun.

“What was that cat’s name?” He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until Maverick gave him a weird look.

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