Cooper (The Family Simon #6) - Juliana Stone Page 0,7

rang the bell. He tried Maverick’s cell, and again, no answer. He thought of swinging by Charlie’s garage (when Charlotte Samuels-Simon wasn’t sticking her nose in Cooper’s business, she was sticking her head under the hood of cars), but his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten for hours.

So Cooper hopped back into his Land Rover and stopped by A Charmed Life—the best diner he’d ever had the pleasure of visiting. Jessie, the waitress and owner, gave him a big hug when he walked inside.

“The fact that it’s taken weeks for us to see your pretty face is something I’ll try not to take personally.”

Cooper flashed a smile and dropped a kiss to Jessie’s cheek. Her silver-blonde hair was pulled into an elegant ponytail, and small diamond earrings twinkled as brilliantly as her light blue eyes. He’d taken a liking to her the moment they’d met.

“Darlin’, what the hell was I thinking?”

She winked, a soft smile curving her pink lips. “Apparently, you weren’t.” She paused, motioning to her left. “You staying for some eats?”

“Is that even a question?” he quipped, gently squeezing her shoulder.

A few locals at the counter glanced up, nodded, and then went back to their very serious business of eating and talking. That was what Cooper liked about this place. No one cared that he was a Simon. Took him a while to figure that out, but there you had it.

“Chowder and homemade biscuits?”

“You bet.” He slid onto the nearest stool while Jessie walked behind the counter and stuck her head into the kitchen window. Her husband, Derek, gave a quick wave as he took her order.

“Coffee while you wait?”

Cooper doffed his hat and gloves and accepted a warm mug from Jessie. The brew was strong—just the way he liked it—and for the next couple of minutes, he sipped his coffee and studied the people around him. It was something he did—it was what made him a writer.

The old guys at the counter were deep in conversation. The road to the Stanley Cup was in full swing, and from what he could tell, neither one of them could convince the other whose team had an advantage. Cooper had a feeling the Rangers were in it big this year, but in this instance, his opinion didn’t matter. The gentleman in the red knit hat was all about the Montreal Canadiens, while his buddy, sporting a frayed John Deere cap, was saying the Bruins were going to take it.

Other than the guys at the counter, a young mother and her twins were holed up in a corner booth, an elderly couple held hands near the window as they waited for their food, and a group of teenaged girls near the door kept glancing his way and whispering among themselves. He shot them a smile—just because—and grinned to himself when they erupted in a tizzy of giggles and squeals.

“You girls are going to be late for your last class,” Jessie admonished as she set a piping-hot bowl of chowder in front of Cooper. She shook her head and planted her hands on her hips as the girls left, their laughter and loud voices following them out. “I swear the power you have over the female race is something to behold.”

“It’s a curse,” he said with a grin before digging in.

“I bet,” she replied dryly. “I read about you and that model.” She tapped her fingers along the countertop, and he paused, spoon halfway to his mouth.

Shit. Here we go.

“What was her name? Mrs. Something-or-other, I believe.” Jessie topped up his coffee. “Mrs. being the most important part of that name, if you ask me.”

Cooper swallowed the delicious chowder and glanced up at Jessie, but he had nothing to say. It was a well-known fact he had a habit of hooking up with women who were attached but looking for a little excitement. He scratched an itch and, in return, didn’t have to worry about a messy, complicated breakup. Of course it wasn’t always so cut-and-dried, but in this instance, the model, Cameron, and her husband, a finance giant, had an open marriage.

For Cooper, it was a win. He’d spent a few weeks with a beautiful, albeit somewhat vain and self-centered, woman, and there’d been no fear of attachment.

Jessie topped up his coffee. “Does it ever get old?”

“Sex?” he quipped, trying for a bit of lightness. But Jessie wasn’t biting. Her blue eyes darkened, and she looked at him in a way that made him uncomfortable. There weren’t many people he’d let