by Vivian Arend
Tucker had seen Ginny’s face as she stared up at the loft ceiling and all but melted, sinking into the comfort of the familiar old barn. He wasn’t sure that she’d really had wanderlust either, but that wasn’t the topic right now.
“Let me pull together an official resume,” Tucker offered. “If you think this is something Caleb would approve of, we need to set a start date so I can talk to my current boss and give my notice.”
“Caleb told me years ago to hire someone and start training them at my discretion. Since all that time I put in over the years ensured that you didn’t grow up to be an asshole, I think I can work with you.” Ashton raised a brow. “You’re more like me than my brother.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Tucker said dryly. His relationship with his parents was pretty much nonexistent.
His uncle looked him over, hard. “You have much to do with your folks recently?”
“No.” Tucker raised a brow. “When was the last time you touched base with your brother?”
“A month ago,” Ashton returned before making a face. “Like talking to a brick wall. An unhappy brick wall.”
“Because they are unhappy. Nothing can be done unless they both agree with every decision, which means they keep compromising their way into bullshit that makes both of them miserable.”
It had been a struggle for Tucker to figure out even part of what made his parents tick—their priorities weren’t even remotely logical to him. As if he’d been switched at birth with a far more down-to-earth couple’s offspring. Knowing the truth, though, had made it easier to deliberately step even farther from his parent’s sphere of influence on his life.
After a quick mental check to see if he found even the slightest bit of give a damn lingering—which he didn’t—Tucker shrugged. “They made their choices, which clearly don’t include me.”
“I know they’re bad, but—”
“They don’t care,” Tucker interrupted, stating the truth plainly. “I made a last-ditch effort last October and suggested I’d drop in over Thanksgiving. They told me they already had plans, and if I showed up, there would be an odd number at the table.”
His uncle cursed softly.
Tucker had enough other people in his life who did care to make up for his parents, including the man now before him. “I’ve made my choices as well. I lean toward simple and honest manual labour. You taught me the value in that—you, Walter, and Joseph, before they passed on. You’ve done more for me over the years than my parents ever did. Let me be there for you now. I’d love to work for Silver Stone, but I’d also love to make your life better going forward. So, thanks for the opportunity.”
Ashton dipped his chin, leaning forward and slapping a hand on the table. “Then it’s decided. Get your paperwork together so we can make it official, but as soon as you’re done with your work out east, we’ll get you started. I won’t say anything to anyone but Caleb. We’ll let the rest of the crew and family know once you’ve got a date.”
He held out his hand, and like in the old days, Tucker shook it firmly, looking the man in the eye. “I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t, son.” Ashton sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. “Now, get.”
Tucker chuckled. “Getting.”
He stepped outside into the snow and cold, mind spinning with the change of plans and the possibilities that lay ahead of him.
Son.
It was true. Walter, Joseph, and Ashton had all been more father-like than the man who’d sired him. Both his parents were cold, bitter people. The less impact they had on his life going forward, the better.
He was halfway to the trailer when he realized that after the initial comment about Tucker and Ginny, his uncle had never mentioned the woman again. He was three quarters of the way to the trailer when Tucker realized not once that day had he mentioned to anyone about the double booking of their quarters.
He was on the steps of the trailer and walking into the warmth before he acknowledged this was exactly where he wanted to be. Coming home to Silver Stone.
Coming home to Ginny.
The furnace was running, the air around him warm. He slipped off his boots and glanced around for a sign of the woman. “Ginny? You awake?”
“In here.”
He paced to the door of the bedroom and peered in.
She sat on the bed, pillows propped up behind her back. Pale pink pyjama pants covered her long legs, paired with a colour-coordinated tank top. She had fuzzy slippers on her feet and a blanket loosely draped around her shoulders.
Her gaze was fixed on the faded yellow envelope in her hands.
“What’s up?” he asked quietly, making his way closer so he could settle at the foot of the bed.
All concerns about their sleeping arrangements were ignored, because he’d rarely seen that expression. It was the lost and tired and scared expression that Tucker knew Ginny Stone hated to the core of her being. The one that said she didn’t have enough energy to deal with something.
The breath she took was so big it made every bit of her body rise slightly. “Tamara found a present. It’s been hidden away for years.” Ginny met his gaze, moisture in her eyes. “It’s from my mom.”
“Holy shit,” Tucker whispered even as he moved closer, sliding in beside her and slipping an arm around her shoulders. It was instinctual to offer comfort even as she continued to hold the envelope in the air.
Her hand shook and the paper trembled.
Ginny curled against his chest. “I have to admit it. I have never quite understood what the word discombobulated meant until now. Dis-com-bob-ulated. Sounds like uncomfortable fellatio.”
He snickered. “Ginny.”
“If I don’t joke, I’ll cry,” she admitted. “And I’m only partly kidding because, holy hell. I did not expect this on top of the rest of the day.”
He tugged the envelope from her fingers, amazement and wonder meshing as he spotted the still-familiar handwriting on the envelope. “Are you sitting here trying to brace up enough energy to open it?”
She waved a hand toward the side of the room. “The rest of it is over there. An entire box from the past, and no. I do not want to open it right now. I kind of want it to not be there. Not be in my brain, not be a possibility. Because I want to open it so badly, but I’m scared.”
Tucker cradled her closer, the warmth of her torso contrasting with the cold in her fingers and arms. “Dammit, Ginny. How long have you been sitting here?”
“Don’t know.”
Screw this. He adjusted position until she was damn near in his lap. He pulled the throw blanket over them both. “Did you call Dare?”
The two of them had been thick as thieves for years and years. If anyone could talk Ginny through this, it would be her sister.
Ginny rubbed her cheek on his chest. Slowly, almost like one of the kittens in the barn. “Thought about it. It’s Christmas day, Tucker. I already messed up Christmas for one of my siblings. I didn’t want to add to anyone else’s stress.”
“Who’d you mess up Christmas for?” he asked in surprise.
Ginny sighed again. An enormous sound as if she were a hot air balloon releasing all its steam. “I gave Caleb shit for not ever telling me that the ranch was in financial trouble.”
Utter shock slipped in. “You’re fucking kidding me.” She tightened in his arms, and he hurried to reassure her. “That wasn’t directed at you. You never knew things got tight? No one told you?”
“Nope.” She patted his chest. “You big strong types feel the need to protect delicate little creatures like me.” She tilted her head back. “It’s okay. He apologized, and it’s done, so no more indignation required on anybody’s part. I shouldn’t have even told you. I’m not telling anyone else. It’s over and forgotten. I mean it.”
She sat up and pressed a hand against his cheek.
“I won’t say a word,” Tucker promised without being prompted. “But I’m gla
d you told me. That’s an awful lot of emotional crap dumped on your plate all at once.”
While he understood far too intimately the need to protect Ginny, he still retained that image of her from that long-ago day. So stubbornly proud to be able to give to others. So insistent that she would be strong.
Discovering she’d been left out of family details would have been like sticking a fillet knife in her. Heck, he’d been pissed when his uncle hadn’t said anything until Tucker had browbeat him into spilling the beans about what bothered him so much.
Oh.
Oh.
The teasing comments from Luke about Ginny not having been there must have cut deep. That was the frustration he’d seen on her face earlier.
Now she turned those big emotion-filled eyes on him again, but it wasn’t frustration, and it wasn’t sadness. The depths sparkled with the mischievous sexual creature who had him tangled up so tight he didn’t have a chance to resist.
“What’s that look for?” he asked cautiously.
She wiggled until she straddled his thighs. Her perfect ass rested on him, the heat of her sex very close to where his cock rose behind his jeans. “We need to talk.”
Crap. His hands were on her hips, and his far too eager fingers had found their way under her pyjama top. Bare skin blazed hot against his palms as he slid them to her waist.
Involuntary, really. He wasn’t doing this on purpose.
“I forgot to tell anyone about the mixed-up sleeping arrangements,” he confessed. “Slipped my mind.”
Ginny slid her hands off his shoulders and down to his chest, fingertips swirling tiny circles over his pecs as she all but petted him. “One of us should have written it on a to-do note, because it slipped my mind, too. In fact, Tamara informed me this trailer is all mine for the next two weeks. A no-kids-allowed zone.”
Wasn’t that a tidy bit of temptation?
Tucker wanted to shake his head to get things to line up properly, but he was rapidly losing the desire to be smart. What he wanted was to focus on here and now. In losing himself in pleasure and making Ginny happy as well—at least two or three times.
Only, was that the right decision? Because while he was fully on board with taking this wherever it needed to go tonight, he had a bigger picture to plan.
He was moving to the ranch. He was finally able to work at the one place where he wanted to remain full time. All of which created the perfect opportunity to make a play for Ginny, long-term and forever.
He was pretty sure that wasn’t the kind of thing that should be started with another episode of their ongoing fling.
Ginny stroked her fingers through his hair, easing in closer and meeting his gaze straight on. “Two weeks. Let’s give in and enjoy the hell out of each other for the next two weeks. Be honest, you know you want to.”
Crap. This wasn’t just temptation, this was temptation on a silver platter.
Ashton had said not to tell anyone about the potential change in job situation until Caleb had been informed. And Tucker was here for the next two weeks, no matter what he arranged with his job back in Winnipeg.
A soft chuckle escaped Ginny’s perfect lips. “You’re thinking too hard.”
“The devil’s in the details,” he warned her even as he slid his hands around her torso to massage the tight muscles in her lower back. Screw it. She liked the truth? He’d give it to her. “I like sex with you. I like fooling around with you, and I am fully on board with sleeping with you.”
After the evening with all its tension and pent-up emotions, Ginny savoured the bubble of amusement that struck. “I really adore how your list started at sex then progressed down to sleeping together.”
His lips twitched as if fighting against a smile. “I’m honest. When I picture you in my bed, neither of us is getting any shut-eye.”
“You’ve pictured me in your bed?” Dear God, where had that sex kitten voice come from?
He stared at her lips. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to, darlin’.”
Shocking how good that made her feel. “Are you on board with the sexing idea?”
Heat radiated off him as he slid his big, talented hands back to her hips and then, oh hell yes, dragged her closer until the thin layer of her pyjamas rode over his jean-clad crotch. “Yes, except we have one slight problem.”
Which Ginny guessed was the fact he wasn’t kissing her yet. Or that neither of them had stripped off their clothing, or that the bed wasn’t shaking as he enthusiastically pumped into her.
“Only one?”
He tucked his fingers under her chin and lifted until they were face to face. Lips inches from touching. “Got any condoms?”
Ginny swore in at least five languages, which caused Tucker to laugh, far too much amusement in his tone.
“I take it that’s a no.” A second later, she was under him, flat on the bed. Bulging biceps braced on either side of her, Tucker rested his hips between her thighs and settled enough to set her heart pounding. “I guess that means I need to get creative.”
Yes, please, with sugar on top.
Only Ginny had ideas as well. “Take off your clothes,” she ordered, tugging ineffectively at his T-shirt.
Tucker gave her a little more of his weight, effectively pinning her in place. “I’m in charge,” he informed her.
“Ha,” she barked. “Right up until I wrap my lips around your cock. Then we’ll see who’s in charge.”
Glory, hallelujah, an actual smile slammed onto his handsome face. “Even with your lips around my cock, it’ll still be me.”
He all but growled the words, and goose bumps rose. Tucker Stewart large and in charge was a magnificent thing.
Only, if she’d bet that he’d turn things down-right dirty in a hurry, she’d have lost.
What she got instead was her face cupped gently between his palms, his gaze sliding over her features. Lingering on the corners of her eyes before dropping to her mouth.
Did she look as if she’d been crying? With emotions running on high, she must be a—
Tucker kissed her, and all the tangled, battered thoughts fled, leaving behind nothing but sweet, rising passion. A slow, intimate entanglement, his mouth nuzzled hers followed by tiny nips with his teeth before the pressure increased and he stole his way between her lips. Controlling her instant response, easing her with him at what was a far more restrained pace than she would have set.
The finish line was in a different place this time. So be it—
Ginny let go.
Maybe not for good, but for now, she pushed aside her worries and fears. Shoved back the sadness she’d carried from being gone for so long and feeling on the edge of her tightknit family. An outsider looking in, welcome but not really a cherished member.
Strong fingers grasped her chin, opening space between them. Tucker’s all too astute gaze back on her. “You with me, goddess?”
Instant happiness leapt in. He was the only one who used that nickname. “I am. Just dumping some baggage.”
Seriousness flickered in his eyes. “I can help you dump it faster.”
He stripped her top over her head and pulled off her pyjama pants, leaving her naked.
Cool air traced over her skin, but his gaze—nothing but scalding heat. He pressed his palms to her waist again, but this time, the smooth caress continued all the way up until his hands were on her breasts.
A happy sigh escaped him. “I missed you. And you.”
He flicked a thumb over one nipple and then the other as he spoke, and Ginny outright snickered. “For a second there I thought you were talking to me. Did you name them yet?
“Mine, and Also Mine.”
She was still laughing when pleasure rippled through her and twisted the sound into a moan. Tucker lifted her breasts, pressing them together. He placed his mouth unerringly over one tight nipple and danced his tongue over and around, alternating sides until tingles spread over her torso like a starry net.
He closed his li
ps and sucked, and a sharp line of need rushed directly between her legs.
“I missed you, too.” The soft confession came out unbidden. She didn’t want him to stop, though, so Ginny stroked her fingers through his hair and encouraged him to keep nibbling on her breasts.
Only he pulled away, his serious expression back in place. “I missed you as well. For real.”
He had their lips together again before she could worry that she’d killed their momentum. Instead, the heat between them continued to grow, but so did another pocket of contentment and wonder.
Her old friend was here. Her sometime lover, yes, but a friend first and foremost. That was the part she didn’t want to miss out on.
A friend she planned to make feel very good tonight.
“Take off your clothes.” She whispered it this time instead of demanding.
Tucker sat back, reached over his head, and stripped off his shirt.
So much warm skin to caress. So much muscle to shape under her fingers as she scrambled up and reached for him again. “You’ve gotten pretty pumped, dude. It looks good on you.”
“Started training with the local bronco crew. I bulk up too much to be any good on the circuit, though.”
Ginny skimmed her fingertips over his right pec and shoulder, cupping a wide-open hand down his biceps and triceps. “You went out on rodeo?”
He scratched his fingernails over her skin lightly, the corners of his mouth turned up again. “You really want to talk about this now?”
“Just making conversation,” she teased.
“Need to give your mouth something else to do,” he countered.
She went for the button on his jeans. “I’m game.”
He pushed her hands away but took care of the details himself. Inch after inch of smooth skin exposed as the jeans fell away.
Inch after inch of his erection revealed as well. Hard and jutting toward his belly as he tossed his clothes aside.
But when Ginny reached forward, intent on claiming her prize, she was once again crowded back against the mattress. Tucker loomed over her, all stern and sexy. “Stay put.”