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“As in Cooper Simon, Maverick’s brother?” Christy asked, finally finding her voice again.
He turned to her and nodded. “You know him?”
“Not really. I mean, I’ve met him once. At, ah, a community event thing where he sang.” Christy looked at Morgan with a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes on account of the fact she looked nervous as hell. “You look really good, Morgan.”
“You look beautiful.” That from Nathan. He looked as if he hadn’t meant to speak, but his face spoke volumes, and the guy’s face reddened. “Maybe we can grab a coffee or…”
Morgan stiffened, her face now as pale as the linen on the tables. Candlelight threw shadows across her features, emphasizing the delicate bone structure along her jaw, the generous curve of her mouth.
“Or maybe…maybe we can just talk or something.” Nathan half shrugged and then shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Christy’s lips were pinched, and she slid her arm through Nathan’s—the point obvious: He’s mine.
The hostess interrupted, holding up two menus, and indicated Nathan and Christy should follow her to their table. Nathan held on for a few seconds longer, watching Morgan.
“It was really good to see you.”
Morgan gave a quick, jerky nod, and Cooper led her to the front reception area, where he paid their bill before heading out to a cold wind off the ocean and a crisp night filled with stars. Cooper fired up his truck and glanced at Morgan. She’d refused his jacket, and he upped the heat.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked gently, trying to gauge her mood. It was early, and he wasn’t willing to give up her company just yet.
Her head was turned, her profile soft as she gazed out the window, into the night sky. Morgan’s fingers kneaded the edge of the seat belt, and her shoulders were hunched forward. Had she heard him? He was just about to repeat himself when she spoke, her voice low and husky and halting.
“I’ve known Nathan Davidson since the third grade.”
Silence followed those words, but Morgan didn’t take her gaze from the window. The throaty hum of the engine took over for a few moments until she continued.
“He was from Alaska and moved here when his dad opened a law office in town. There was some sort of family connection, but I can’t remember what it was.” Her warm breath created condensation on the window, and she rubbed at it absently. “A cousin, maybe?
“To everyone in my class, he was the new kid, but to me…he was exotic. This tall, gangly boy who’d traveled from a state no one I knew had ever visited. We all wanted to be his best friend. We all wanted the new boy to like us. He and Hank bonded over hockey and football, and Nathan didn’t know I existed until the tenth grade.”
Her voice trailed off, and she blew out a long, slow breath, fogging the window even more. “Christy I’ve known since birth.” She turned to him, those big eyes luminous. “Literally. We were born a few hours apart at St. Mary’s, and most every memory I have, Christy is in it. We learned to ride bikes together. Attended Bible camp. Baseball. Dolls. Ran track…
“She was my best friend. I could tell her anything. My hopes and dreams. The things that made me sad or angry or scared. Nathan…” Morgan exhaled and rested her head back against the seat. “She was my best friend. I was closer to her than most of my family. And now…”
She
shuddered, and Cooper couldn’t help himself. He unbuckled his seat belt and moved over until he was close. So close he could see the tears that clung to her lashes. The bit of gloss still clinging to her lips. A small scar he’d never noticed, there above her right eyebrow.
Something stirred in his chest. Something hot and hard and full of emotion. He reached forward and brushed back a long strand of soft hair, tucking it behind her ear as her eyelids slowly closed.
“Now she’s just someone from my past that I no longer know.”
Cooper trailed his finger down from Morgan’s ear and traced the delicate outline of her jaw. Her lips were parted and she was hot to the touch, though her complexion was still much too pale.
“Where do you want me to take you?” he asked, watching the play of light caress her face.
“I don’t want to go home. Not yet.”
“Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?”
She slowly shook her head and whispered, “No.”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said before sliding back behind the wheel and securing his seat belt. She didn’t answer and turned to look out the window once again.
Cooper left the restaurant and headed back to Fisherman’s Landing. He sailed through town and then pointed his truck toward home, arriving just as the moon disappeared behind a band of clouds, throwing his place deep in shadow. He grabbed Morgan’s hand as they headed into his house. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t ask any questions or seem all that interested in where she was.
“Wine?” he asked as they entered the kitchen.
Morgan shook her head and slid onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. She was in a dark funk, and he needed a game plan. He got the fireplace going, dimmed the lights, and turned on the large flat-screen TV. Grabbing a blanket, he slid onto the sofa beside her, not too close because he knew she needed room, but close enough that he could smell the honeysuckle shampoo she’d used that night.
