head and said she needed to be home.
He didn’t want to pry—he knew she needed her space, especially after the intense few days they’d shared—but hell, the shadows that clung to her face bothered him, and it took everything he had to let her go without a fight.
It was early Sunday evening. The sun was on its way down, and he’d just dropped Morgan off at her place. They’d shared one last kiss that had them both wriggling in their seats like teenage sex addicts, and then he’d driven off. It was either that or take her in the front seat of his truck; not gonna lie, he was down for that.
Hot under the collar—the thought of heading back out to his place made Cooper twitchy—he didn’t want to be alone. He needed noise. A distraction. Someone to talk to. Cooper abruptly changed course and swung his truck around, heading for the Devil’s Gate. Once in the parking lot, he pulled out his cell phone, and Maverick answered on the second ring.
“About time.” His brother’s voice filled his ear, and Cooper sat back in the truck, thumping his thumb along the steering wheel, eyes on a group moving into the bar. “I’ve called you at least ten times in the last two days, and I’m pretty sure Mom has too.”
“Sorry. I’ve been busy.”
“So I hear.”
Shit. He knew the logistics of small-town talk, but hell, already people were talking?
“Mom only called once.” He paused, suddenly alarmed, his thoughts on her cancer. “She okay?”
“Mom’s fine.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Then what the hell is the emergency?”
“We should talk.” Maverick sounded way too serious for a Sunday night.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Where you at?”
“Devil’s Gate. Parking lot.”
“Okay. Give me ten minutes. I just want to see Charlie before I take off.”
Frowning, Cooper got out of his truck. Unease sat in the pit of his gut, and though he tried to shake it off, he couldn’t. He checked his phone—noticing his mother had actually called twice. He debated whether to return the call, but then pocketed the damn thing before heading inside. If his brother said their mother was fine, she was. He’d call her from home.
Less than five minutes later, he was settled at the end of the bar, ordering up a couple of Bud Lights from the largest bartender he’d ever seen. The guy had shoulders any linebacker would be envious of, a beard that would make most bikers jealous, and a mane of hair his cousin Grace would kill for.
“Thanks,” Cooper said, taking the beers from him.
The brute’s eyebrow lifted. “You Maverick’s brother?”
“I am.” Of course, the guy knew he was. This was Fisherman’s Landing after all.
“I like him.”
Cooper nodded. “He’s a good guy.”
The bartender gave him a long look as if sizing him up, but said no more. He moved to the other end as a few more customers sidled up for drinks, and Cooper took a long pull from his beer and waited for his brother. Wasn’t a long wait—you could walk from one end of the damn town to the other in under thirty minutes.
Maverick slid onto the stool beside him and grabbed the second beer. He tipped it back, took a long drink, and then set it down in front of him. He toyed with the label for a few moments and then leaned back, tapping his long fingers against the bar top.
It was a signature move, and Cooper waited for it. He didn’t have to wait long.
“So, Morgan Campbell.”
Cooper took another sip of Bud, hiding the small smile that had sprung up at the mention of her name. “Yeah. Morgan Campbell.”
“Didn’t see that one coming.” A few seconds passed. “You spend the entire weekend with her?”
“I did.”
“The whole town’s talking about it.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Hell, I stopped in at the bakery yesterday to get some of those cinnamon rolls Charlie eats every day, and it was all Mr. Pico could talk about.”
Maverick continued to tap his fingers, and Cooper frowned. His brother was awfully quiet. “You got something to say about it?”
Maverick shrugged. “Not really. Your business is your own, but…” He scooped up his drink, then put it back without taking a sip.
Annoyed, Cooper narrowed his eyes. “Just spit it out, Rick.”
His brother was silent for a few moments more and then swung around on the stool so that he faced Cooper. What the hell? He looked way too serious for Cooper to feel anything other than unease. It punched him in the gut, and he set