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Cooper took his time getting to his truck. He started the damn thing and let it run a good ten minutes before heading out of town toward his place. When he got home, Stanley was whining to be let out, and once the dog was done doing his business Cooper let the bundle of fur follow him upstairs. The dog climbed onto his bed, and Cooper didn’t give a rat’s ass.
He lay in the dark for a very long time, staring up at a ceiling that had no answers for him. His mother was sick but okay. He’d kissed a woman he barely knew, and it was all he could think about. A woman with scars that could be seen and a lot that were hidden.
Just like Holly.
“Shit,” he murmured, slamming his eyes closed. He grabbed his pillow, punching it hard until it was just right. Holly Adams had nearly done him in.
It was a good thing, then, that Cooper wasn’t planning on getting involved with a woman like Holly. No way was he going there. He needed to put Morgan Campbell out of his mind and get some sleep.
He needed to finish his book and get the hell out of Fisherman’s Landing.
With a plan firmly in place, Cooper relaxed, but sleep was elusive and dawn was breaking when he eventually fell under its spell.
14
August 15, 1951
Thomas wants to go all the way, but I’m so confused. I mean, I love him and all. Every time we make out, I can barely contain all the feelings in me. It’s like they’re trying to punch holes through my skin, and I want to get as close to him as I can. Last night, I even let Thomas take off my shirt. Good. Lord. (I can tell you, journal, that I’m blushing as I write.) I let him take off my shirt and put his hands inside my bra, and then he undid it. Thomas took my bra off, and I let him. It felt so good when he touched me. But then I thought of what Mama says. About how boys only do those kinds of things with girls of a certain reputation, and I got scared.
I think Thomas was a little bit mad when I asked him to stop. It was hard for him. I could tell. His face was red, and he was all sweaty. And that little tic beside his mouth was beating a mile a minute, I swear. He drove me home from our special parking place, and he hasn’t called me today. I hope I didn’t screw things up, because I love him more than anything.
Maybe I should just let him do the things he wants to do? Will he think less of me? Why is being in love so hard?
V.P.
Why indeed, Morgan thought.
She closed the journal and tucked it back in the folder she kept in the top drawer of the desk she worked at. She pushed back on her chair and stood on stiff legs. She’d been up here for hours, and with the sun setting in the sky, she knew it was time to leave.
She glanced around the attic. “Just a few more days,” she murmured, and then she’d be done with all the organizing. She wasn’t exactly sure what came after that, and the thought of talking to Cooper about it made her more nervous than she’d like.
If only he’d never touched her.
“Ugh,” she muttered, scooping up her jacket from the back of the chair. It was Friday evening, and she hadn’t seen Cooper since…well, since a week ago. Since the kiss. The thing was? She still wasn’t exactly sure what she thought about the kiss, because, sure, it had scared the crap out of her, but it had also been kind of incredible. And confusing.
She hadn’t felt anything other than anger and pain and fear in so long that to experience want and need and passion had thrown her for a loop. And to feel all those things with someone like Cooper Simon didn’t make sense as far as she was concerned.
That first day back, she’d come in an hour late and practically sprinted into the house and up to the attic. Sprint being a relative term, of course, since she couldn’t run faster than old Mrs. Samuels. She’d stayed up there—holding her breath every time she heard him enter the house, and then expelling it in a hot mess when he left again. She figured out early on that he was avoiding her as well, and even though she was guilty of the same thing, it still kinda sorta stung.
Just a little.
She winced. Okay. It stung a lot.
Morgan slipped her jacket over her shoulders and peeked out the window that looked over the back of Cooper’s property. The light still burned from inside the shop, and she was confident if she left now, she wouldn’t run into him.
Not that he wants to run into me.
“Just shut up already.” She was losing it. Seriously. Losing it. She snapped off the light and headed for the stairs, taking them as fast as she could. Her hand was on the doorknob when she paused. A strange feeling washed over her, and she glanced over her shoulder, letting out a little squeak when she spied a shadow in the hall.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Cooper’s voice was gruff, and she tried to still her fast-beating heart as she slowly turned around.
“You didn’t…” She licked suddenly dry lips. “You didn’t scare me.”
Where the hell had he come from?
He stepped into the light, a crooked smile on his face, and her stomach did that funny thing again. The one where it exploded and went crazy and then dipped so low, it made her feel nauseous. He looked as if he hadn’t shaved in days, and his dirty-blond hair was askew. Adorably so. Old jeans hung loosely on his hips, he was barefoot (there was something insanely hot about a guy in bare feet), and a rumpled navy Henley completed his outfit.
