Tucker (The Family Simon) (10 page)

“I think you missed your calling,” he shot back. “You should be charging by the hour.”

“The sad thing is that you’re hurting yourself the most. Whoever that woman was…whatever she did to you, it’s not right to use that as an excuse to be an asshole just because it’s easier for you to live that way. You’re so much better than that.”

And he was. She’d seen it last night. The way he’d been so sweet to his Aunt Virginia, taking her for a turn on the dance floor, more than once. The way he’d made his sister smile and his mother giggle like a teenager. Cooper Simon could make some woman ecstatically happy if he would just let himself fall in love again.

For a moment there were no more words. They each sipped their drinks and Cooper leaned along the wall beside her.

“You’re good.”

“I’m sorry,” she answered simply.

“But since we’re being so honest and all, I gotta say Abby, you’re no better than I am. You’re hiding, too.”

Surprised, she pushed off from the wall. “Excuse me?”

His glass was empty, and he studied it, swishing around the ice cubes so that they clinked against the side of the glass. He leaned close to her, his mouth near her ear and she held her breath as he whispered.

“You’re in love with my cousin and too afraid to do anything about it. You’re nothing but a big old chicken and if you don’t mind my saying, pretty damn hypocritical to lecture me when you’re carrying around that secret.”

Abby blinked.

She cleared her throat.

Goosebumps spread across her skin and cold sweat gave her the shivers as Cooper shoved away from her. “So how close am I?”

She didn’t answer him because she couldn’t. So she said nothing.

“If I came into your bar, if I ordered the perfect martini from you,” He paused, a dark grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes in place. “No, hold on. What if I had
several
perfect martinis?” He tipped his chin up. “Enough so that I spilled my shit and told you that I was in love with someone, but was too afraid of rejection to do anything about it. What advice would you give me?”

“I’m not paid to hand out advice,” she managed to say.

“Now who’s full of shit? What advice would you give me, Abby?”

He wasn’t going to let this go. She thought of Tucker. Of the kiss they’d shared the night before and the promise that would never bloom.

“I would say that if you didn’t at least try, you would never know.”

“Never know what?”

Abby licked her dry lips and exhaled. “You would never know if there was a chance for the two of you.”

“So maybe you should listen to your own advice. Maybe my cousin needs a kick in the ass so that he stops living in the past.”

How in hell had Cooper Simon managed to turn the entire conversation around to Abby and Tucker?

“He needs you, Abby, and he probably doesn’t even know it yet but,” Cooper glanced behind them, a calculated look in his eyes. “Judging by the pissed off expression on his face right now…” Cooper’s hand caressed her cheek. “I’m thinking he’s gonna realize that sooner or later.”

Chapter Eleven

Something was getting under Tucker’s skin and like a slow burn or itch, it wasn’t going away. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that it would burrow deep and torture him for the rest of the weekend—because that
something
had an awful lot to do with Abby Mathews.

Shit.
He hadn’t seen that one coming.

Tucker settled back in his chair, pushed aside his crumpled napkin, not bothering to hide his scowl as he watched Abby and Cooper chat near the chocolate fountain.

He’d been trying to get her alone all day, but every single time he’d approached her something or someone got in the way. Like the damn wedding or—his scowl deepened—his damn cousin.

“What’s got you so pissed off?”

Tucker didn’t bother to glance up as Beau slid into the seat beside him.

“Or should I say who?”

Dinner had been cleared away, the speeches were done and in a few minutes, the music would start. The bride was posing for pictures with some girlfriends, and the new groom was shaking hands. Congratulations no doubt.

Tucker toyed with his half-full wine glass but didn’t answer his brother. Instead he shrugged, his eyes still on Abby.

“So tell me again how you and this woman are just friends?”

Tucker shot a dark look at Beau. Guess the jig was up there.

“Because right now brother, you look jealous as hell.”

“Yeah?” Tucker muttered.

“Yeah,” Beau replied. “Looks to me like Cooper’s got a bull’s eye pinned to the back of his head with your name on it. So maybe you need to figure out what’s going on before things get out of hand.” Beau leaned forward. “Because a family wedding isn’t exactly the time or place for the kind of shit that I know is brewing in that head of yours.”

A muscle worked its way across Tucker’s cheek as he clamped down hard. He wanted nothing more than to plant his fist into Cooper’s nose. He was wound so tight his shoulders ached. Hell, even his teeth hurt from clenching his jaw.

He knew he’d get grief if he started something with his cousin, but right now it was the only thing that would make him feel better.

Fuck.

He needed to get Abby alone. He needed to tell her some things. The fact that he wasn’t exactly sure what those things were didn’t really matter. He’d figure it out.

His eyes narrowed as Cooper leaned in close and whispered something into her ear. Again. Something that made her smile. Something that had her looking up into his cousin’s eyes as if…

Tucker was out of his chair so fast he nearly spilled his wine. He didn’t bother looking back at Beau as he strode through the crowd. If he’d have taken a moment, he might have realized he was playing out the exact same scenario that had occurred the night before.

The one that had led to a kiss. A kiss that had pretty much kept him up for most of the night.

It was that kiss that he needed to talk about.

So he stayed focused and didn’t look to the right, even though he knew his mother was trying to get his attention. He ignored his Aunt Virginia, which was a small miracle because the woman was wearing a bright orange dress and waved her arms madly. He ignored his brother Jack’s girlfriend, and the knowing smile that curved Betty Jo’s mouth.

Hell, he didn’t even say a word to his baby sister, Grace, when she managed to come up for air after making out with her new boy-toy—and that had been bugging him since he’d first met the guy.

Tucker ignored it all, because he was done.

Done thinking about that kiss. Done remembering what it felt like to hold Abby in his arms and breathe her in. He was done wondering, and he was done sulking in the corner like a goddamn schoolboy.

Beau wanted to know what the hell was going on? Well so did Tucker.

And it was about time he found out.

He reached Abby and Cooper just as the DJ called the bride and groom up to the dance floor.

“We need to talk,” he said trying to keep his cool and doing a crap job of it. He knew this because Abby took a step back, a wary look in her eyes.

“Tucker,” Abby said haltingly. “I don’t think this is the place—“

“I don’t care what you think; we need to talk.” Christ, he was blowing this. He took a moment—exhaled—and tried for a bit of calm. “Please,” he entreated. “Can you just come with me?”

“Tucker doesn’t say please very often, Abigail. This must be important,” Cooper said. He leaned into her and Tucker’s fists clenched when Cooper murmured. “Save me a dance?” His cousin turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd, milling near the edge of the dance floor.

Beau was right. If Tucker’s hands were filled with darts every single one of them would be buried in the back of Cooper’s head. Screw darts. He’d be using arrows for fuck sake.

“Are you all right?” Abby asked softly.

“No.” There was no hesitation. He was so far from all right at the moment that he wouldn’t know what all right looked like if it kicked him in the ass.

She cleared her throat, her hands on the pulse at her neck, and Tucker stared down into Abby’s soft brown eyes, not knowing what to say—not knowing how to be calm with the heat surging through him.

“Let’s go,” he said roughly, reaching for her hand.

He led her through the crowd, eyes searching for a place where they could be alone. Where there could be some quiet so he could think.

They were near the patio doors that led to the back garden when Tucker caught sight of his Aunt Virginia, deftly making her way toward them. No way did he have time for her. He turned sharply, Abby’s hand still in his, and took a right until he was able to slip out the exit behind the head table.

Without pause, he took to the stairs, not stopping until he’d gone up another flight and then opened the first door on his left. The last rays of sunlight fell in from the window and illuminated what appeared to be a study or office.

“Tucker, slow down.”

Abby tugged her hand from his and stared up at him. There were questions in her eyes—probably the same ones in his—and damned if he was leaving this room until they were answered.

“What the hell? Your family is going to think that you,” she blew an errant strand of hair off her face. “They’re going to think we’re…that we…”

In that moment, he didn’t give a flying fuck what his family or anyone else thought. How could he?

All he saw were eyes that tugged at him. A mouth that tortured him. And a heart-shaped face that made him crazy.

“I’m sure Beau and Cooper both know why I dragged you up here,” he said roughly.

The wariness returned, and she would have stepped away but Tucker didn’t let her. Instead his arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her closer until she was pretty much pressed against every inch of him.

The air was charged with that same hot and heavy something from the night before, and he knew that she felt it too. It was in the way her tongue darted out to rest against her bottom lip. The way her breath caught. It was in the way his heart beat, thrumming like a drum, his pulse racing ahead trying to keep up with his thoughts.

And there was no mistaking the hardness between his legs for anything other than what it was. Desire. Hot and heavy desire.

“That kiss last night,” he began hoarsely.

Silence.

“What about it?” she asked, voice more than a little rough.

His hand slid along her jaw until he cupped the back of her head and kept her gaze locked onto his.

“Why did you go there, Abby? Why did you kiss me like that?”

Shadows crept into her eyes and for a moment, he thought she was going to ignore all of it. Heck, in the past, it was what he would have done. Just ignore it. Put it in a little box, tie it up and forget all about it. It would have been the easy thing to do, because God knows things were getting complicated, and they were getting complicated fast.

But she surprised him. Abby always managed to surprise him.

“I wanted to kiss you,” she replied.

“Why?”

A pause.

“What do you mean, why?”

Christ, she wasn’t going to make this easy. But had he expected that?

“We’ve been friends for a while now, and I just…” God, he couldn’t get out what was inside of him. “Well I just…that kiss kind of blew me away. I thought about it all night.”

There. It was out in the open and the ball was in her court.

She stared up at him for a few seconds, pulse alive at her throat, eyes wide and expressive. She was thinking things. Wondering things.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, Tucker. You had to have known that.” Her eyes slid away, as if she was embarrassed at her own candor, and something about the tremble in her bottom lip tugged at him.

Okay. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised as shit, but holy hell. Tucker was surprised as shit.

He slid one hand up her body until he cupped the back of her head, his long fingers buried in her hair. Gently, he forced her eyes back up to his and—yep—there went his heart, racing like a goddamn drum. Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom.

What. The. Hell. When was the last time he’d felt so alive? When was the last time his body and mind were in sync when it came to a woman? God, he wanted Abby, he wanted to be buried deep inside her, but it was so much more than that.

This here, what he was feeling, was already so much more than he’d thought it could be, and he decided there and then that he was going to explore the connection. As long as she was willing.

“Why did you wait so long?” he murmured, eyes locked onto hers intently.

For a few moments, there was silence and then she exhaled slowly, shaking her head. “I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I…” She shuddered against him, and he felt something inside him crack.

“I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same.”

He groaned, one hand on her hip holding her in place while the other cupped the back of her neck. “Are you crazy? Who the hell wouldn’t want a kiss from you?”

She didn’t answer and her eyes were lowered, so he couldn’t see what was in them. And if anything, Abby’s eyes were a direct path to what was going on inside her head.

He reached for her chin and tugged gently until she was forced to look up at him. “Hey,” he said softly. He had a feeling that he knew what was going on inside her. Because it was the exact same thing that was going on inside him.

“Is it because we’re friends?”

Her eyes flashed and she straightened a bit, a little of her fire back. “So I’m not just some bartender who you barely know?”

He liked the fire. Hell, he wanted to taste the fire.

His mouth found its way to the corner of hers and he whispered. “No, Abigail Mathews. You’re a hell of a lot more than just a bartender that I know.”

And she was.

“You are an amazing woman, and I think that you know me better than maybe I know my own self.” He thought of the endless nights he’d stayed late at The Black Dog, or the excuses he’d made to bring the endless parade of women around. He realized it was because of Abby. It had always been because of Abby.