Cooper (The Family Simon #6) - Juliana Stone Page 0,50

“But it’s okay.” His eyes darkened, filled with something that made her heart take off again. “It’s kind of adorable.”

“Really,” she answered, breathlessly.

He nodded. “You hungry?”

It took a moment, but Morgan realized she kinda was. She nodded.

“Good.” Cooper gently pushed her back and got to his feet. He was tall—but so was Morgan—and yet today, she felt small and delicate and…feminine as she stood in front of him. His warm breath caressed her cheek as he leaned a little closer, and for one crazy moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again.

He was close. So close to her mouth.

The air between them heated, and sweat broke out along her forehead. She resisted the urge to rub her hands across the back of her neck, but alas, she couldn’t stop staring at his sexy-as-hell mouth.

It was crazy that she was feeling things…hot things…desirable things. Nothing could come of this—whatever this was—and yet…

Her lips parted, tongue sliding across the tops of her teeth as she waited.

“I’m damn good at a lot of things,” he said, voice a little rough.

“I’m sure you are.” Jesus. Her voice sounded like a cross between Cyndi Lauper and Marilyn Monroe. What the hell. Maybe with a dash of Minnie Mouse thrown in for laughs.

“Problem is I can only share one of them at a time.”

God, his mouth was sinful. “Multitasking not a strong point?” She dragged her gaze from his lips, which was the wrong thing to do, because if she wasn’t mistaken, his eyes were lit by that monster known as desire.

An answering heat began to burn inside her. It was confusing. Exciting. And scary.

“Oh, I can multitask when I want to. But right now…” His hand slipped to hers, “I’m going to cook you breakfast, because I make a damn good Belgian waffle. And then we’ll talk about multitasking.”

He arched a brow, waiting for her to answer as Morgan’s gaze slid to her hand, nestled inside his. She remembered last night. Cooper Simon liked to hold hands. Who knew?

He tugged gently on hers.

He liked to hold her hand, and right now, in this moment, she was going to let him. “Okay,” she breathed, letting him take the lead. “Impress me.”

“I plan on it.”

There was an undertone that colored his words. An undertone that sparked the heat inside her to burn hot. An undertone that promised dark, dirty things.

Morgan thought that, maybe, Cooper wasn’t talking about breakfast. And for once, maybe she was okay with that.

19

Cooper whistled as he went about making a breakfast to remember. He’d had food delivered the day before, so he was good to go. While he grabbed a bowl to mix the ingredients for his waffles, Morgan started the coffee machine and cleaned strawberries and blueberries. They worked as if they’d made breakfast together a hundred times before, each knowing what the other needed or wanted, and as he poured his mixture onto the grill and waited for the waffles, he stood back and felt…

Content. Happy. Settled.

This right here felt right. Cooper didn’t ponder the thought, at least not right now. He tucked it away and decided he didn’t want to think about anything other than making the perfect waffle for Morgan.

She set a cup of coffee in front of him, black, just the way he liked it, and then sat while he finished up. Maple syrup and whipped cream were his toppings, along with the fruit she’d set aside.

Outside, the sun was already climbing the sky. It was another gorgeous New England day to look forward to. Considering he’d made a ton of progress on his book, Cooper decided he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

Once he made small mounds of art on top of their waffles, he slid onto the stool beside Morgan and waited until she took a bite.

“Well?” he asked, trying to gauge her reaction, but the girl was good at hiding stuff, and he frowned, watching her. Morgan chewed for several long moments, head bowed, fingers loosely holding her utensils.

“It’s…” she murmured, eyes closed, brows furrowed as if thinking hard. “Um.” She licked her bottom lip, leaving it shiny and smeared with more than a dab of syrup. Suddenly, Cooper didn’t care at all what she thought, because right now, he was more interested in what she tasted like.

In his mind an image rose up. Of long silky hair. Mouth parted in ecstasy. Tangled limbs and hands that clawed. He stifled a groan, even as a cold sweat engulfed him. He needed