Cooper (The Family Simon Book 6) by Juliana Stone Read Free Book Online Page B

with me. He asked me to next Saturday’s social at the church, and I swear to God, I’m going. Even if it means I have to sew my mouth shut to keep from sassing anyone. I’m going to the social with Thomas McLaren, and I hope he holds my hand again. I especially hope that he kisses me. I get a weird feeling just thinking about it. Wish me luck.
    V.P.

    M organ read several more entries —enough to know that the young girl had indeed kept herself from sassing either one of her parents—and that she’d gone to the social. Not only that, but Thomas McLaren had kissed her for so long and so sweetly, she’d “darn near passed out.”
    She would have kept reading, but her leg was cramping something fierce, and Morgan supposed she should get back to it. She was just about to get up when a creak on the stairs told her she wasn’t alone. She froze and gulped down a strangled breath when Cooper appeared with a tray of food.
    “Thought you might be ready for lunch.” Cooper’s deep voice was warm, and those eyes of his found her immediately.
    He wore a pair of old, worn jeans, a white T-shirt, and a red-and-black-plaid button-down shirt. His hair was rumpled, and he’d not shaved since she last saw him. Their gazes connected, and for a moment, it felt as if all the sound had been sucked from the room, leaving her slightly off-balance.
    Not liking the sensation, Morgan shook her head and winced as the music filtered back in. No longer The Eagles, the heavy guitars of AC/DC filled her ears.
    He gestured toward the small table to his left, the one that had held the ledger, and she scrambled to her feet when he moved the stereo so there was room for the tray.
    Embarrassed at being caught goofing off on the job, she knew her face was pink when he turned back to her, but she walked toward him and tried like hell to ignore the heat. She pasted a practiced smile on her face but faltered when she noticed there were two bowls of soup as well as several warm biscuits.
    “You went to town?” she asked carefully. The chowder was from the diner—she’d know that delicious scent anywhere.
    “I did.” He winked. “Apparently, I’m not to feed you beer or yogurt.”
    “You don’t have to feed me at all.”
    Okay. That sounded rude, but Cooper didn’t seem to notice. He pulled out a box for her, and she sat down on it, accepting the warm chowder with a quick nod and watching him from beneath lowered lids as he pulled over another crate for himself.
    “Hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d join you.”
    She did mind, but Morgan wasn’t about to let him know that. “Suit yourself.”
    After a few spoonsful of chowder, Morgan cleared her throat and took a shot at some sort of conversation. It was better than the god-awful silence and Cooper’s probing gaze.
    “So what’s with the beer and yogurt?” she asked, nibbling at her biscuit and pulling on the edge of her sweatshirt. He followed the movement, and she immediately stopped.
    Cooper swallowed a mouthful of chowder and shrugged. “Aside from a jar of pickles and a container of milk, it’s pretty much all there is in my fridge.” He paused. “Oh, and some sauerkraut.”
    Her eyebrow shot up. “Sauerkraut?”
    “I like it on eggs.”
    “That’s the weirdest combination I’ve ever heard.”
    “So I’ve been told.”
    “And you don’t have eggs.”
    A sly smile his features. “This is true.”
    She took another bite from her biscuit. “So you have a thing against real food?”
    He swallowed another mouthful of soup, and she couldn’t help but notice his mouth. It was full, almost too full for a man, but his strong jaw and slightly crooked nose made it work. The man was attractive with a capital A—she’d have to be a nun not to notice—and she glanced away, suddenly aware of the disparity between them.
    Cooper Simon was money, power, family, and fame. He had a penchant for married women and a taste for scandal; yes, she’d googled the guy. And Morgan?