“My name is Tucker McTavish,” she said coming up flush with his chest, and even though he must have at least two layers on under his open coat that she could now tell was a serious North Face—expensive—coat, she could feel the firm definition of muscles. “And you’re on my lake.”
“It’s Miracle Lake, not Tucker Lake.”
He dropped her hand but didn’t take a step back.
“Same thing.”
“This town called Marietta Tucker too?”
So he would play. Her interest stirred.
She smiled. “Actually, most days it is.”
He cocked his head.
“Skate or put on your jacket. Your nipples are distracting me from my moment of Zen.”
“‘Moment of Zen’ my ass. You are so not Trevor Noah or John Stewart.”
He laughed and Tucker gulped at the unfettered sound. To her surprise he retrieved her parka.
“For your info, Trevor,” she gave the comedian’s name three syllables as he handed her her coat, “I was cold. Not happy to see you.”
She thrust her arms in the coat and zipped it up like she was in a race. Covered, she faced him feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed.
“Definitely the dumbest male move of the decade,” he commented, his voice low and amused as if mocking himself and, Tucker felt, her. “Men all over the planet would boo my dumbass request just now. Alone time and then when that didn’t work, a jacket.”
She caught her breath. Lust was going to make her dizzy. His eyes were so alive as if one of the candles had been lit within them. Up close now she could tell they were a warm caramel brown. His lips quirked and practically taunted her to kiss and bite and lick them and lock on for a long, hot, sweaty ride. “And it’s Laird, not Trevor. I’m not that funny.”
“Laird? Really? Like the Scottish nobility kind?”
“Yeah, my mom,” he winced and paused. Sucked in a breath.
Oh no. She’s dead. Just died. He’s going to cry. I need to get the hell out of here. Crying men are…
“She, ahhh, how shall I put this, enjoyed a lot of historical romances.”
Tucker laughed in relief. “Phew! It could be worse,” Tucker said.
She began to skate, and he followed and she felt a little bit of a thrill, which she should so not be feeling… but it wasn’t quite December… but a quick glance at her Fitbit told her it was… but no need to go total cold turkey. She could flirt a little. Right? She was making the rules. Besides, she hadn’t even officially gone home yet. She’d taken a cab, walked the last mile up the drive and took the truck, which always had the key in the ignition.
“Going to turn into a pumpkin?”
“Too round,” Tucker said. She worked too hard on her horse and in the gym and watching calories to keep her curves in perfect luscious alignment to settle for a round anything except her breasts. “If I must turn into a squash make it a zucchini.”
“Light green or dark green or yellow?”
“Dark to match my eyes.”
Ugh, most obvious flirt ever. What the hell? She hadn’t even stopped to get out of practice, and she felt the look he sliced her all the way to her bones. “And you?” she said quickly. “Plant? Animal or vegetable?”
“Animal.”
“Roar?” She made fake claws with her fingers.
“You’ll have to tell me later.”
“That sounds promising.”
She expected a quick comeback. Instead his face shuttered a bit although with the shadowy candlelight and the moon, she could be tumbling into melodrama.
Internal sigh, she mocked herself. Why was she going to behave all December again? Oh yeah. Tanner. Sisterly love. Self-flagellation and all that. Miracle Lake, skating with a hot guy she couldn’t touch, which perversely made him hotter. Of course.
“Have you lived in Marietta long?” he asked after they had made two quiet turns around the makeshift ice arena.
Tucker thought about that. “Yes and no. I grew up here and barrel raced and some other rodeo events but moved to California to compete. So I haven’t been local in a while but still, I know most of the families around town. Here you’re a newcomer if you’ve only been here five years so probably the fact that I left about ten years ago has barely registered.”
Why am I talking so much?
“You?” She was so stiff and awkward. She would have handled him better at thirteen.
“No.”
“Are you competing for blabbermouth of the year award? Because I gotta be honest. There are four people ahead of you, and you only have a month left.”
“A month,” he slowed in his skating. “I was thinking in those terms. A month.”
“Me too,” Tucker stopped, faced him.
The moonlight puddled on his high cheekbones casting them stark white, and the hollows seemed to swallow the bottom of his face. There were two puncture wound scars along one of his cheekbones and more scars lower, lost in his groomed stubble that added to his mystique and the dream-like atmosphere of the night. She preferred clean-shaven cowboys, but she longed to reach out and touch him, see if his stubble was rough or silky. Would it upbraid her skin if she were to stroke it? Her thighs if she let him do the things to her that she absolutely adored? And what about the scar? It was a lure she couldn’t resist.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out. He held himself really still. She sensed he wanted to pull away, like a wild animal, and the fact that he stayed stirred something inside her and she settled just a little. She dropped her hand back to her side.
“I have a personal challenge,” she felt breathless with her first confession. “For a month. That’s why I’m here.”
Chapter Two
“This isn’t the best hot chocolate in the world,” Tucker said unscrewing the lid of the thermos that was also going to have the dubious honor of acting as cup for both of them as they sat on the steps of the skate rental hut. “Sage Carrigan makes the best hot chocolate in the world. It’s the real deal. Not a powder or anything like that, real melted chocolate that she roasts and makes and adds secret ingredients to like a chemist or master chef. So you’re slumming it with me here as this is made with a mix, but still I added my own homemade touch.”
She suddenly felt self-conscious with him. He was so still, deep in thought, and she had no idea what he was thinking. Usually guys were an open book to her. Hop between the sheets with minimal questions and let the games begin. It was fun and easy, and skipped all the jitters and awkward moments involved in getting to know someone. Tanner was better at conversation. She was smarter and didn’t jump out of her skin, humming with extra energy that had to be burned off somehow.
Tucker had come here to think, not her favorite thing in the world, but instead she was obsessing with this guy. Not a good sign for her month-long celibacy and good behavior challenge, but instead of actively tempting her, Laird seemed to operate on a higher plane. He radiated an animal energy, highly sexual yet he didn’t seem interested in letting it loose, which might help her vow to behave, but sucked on a personal level because he was quite beautiful; and now that they were sitting on the steps with a fleecy blanket over their legs, sipping hot chocolate together, she could examine him more closely. His cheekbones, strong, straight nose, full lips, and strong jaw were the things of magazine covers and modeling agents’ wet dreams. She’d been around Hollywood enough over the years to get jaded by handsome men, but Laird was truly spectacular, and he wasn’t even trying.
She handed him the hot chocolate first, making sure their fingers touched just because she wanted to touch him.
“Thank you.”
His deep voice vibrated through her, soothing, and again she felt herself settle, all that humming energy slowed and perched cautiously. Like a hummingbird.
He sipped and then laughed, breaking the spell and Tucker caught her breath at the light in his dark eyes, and his wide smile. His whole face lit up.
“Definitely not my mom’s hot chocolat
e. You’ve added a little holiday magic, Tucker.”
“Yeah, that’s my thing, spreading magic and joy,” her mouth twisted down, remembering the rodeo, seeing Luke, making a play for him and hurting her twin. A rift that had yet to narrow. Definitely not her shining moment. More like a black hole of doubt and self-recriminations. “Full disclosure,” she said trying to push away her gloomy thoughts. “I’m Santa’s naughty elf.”
“If Santa’s naughty elf is thoughtful and practical as well, then I concur,” he said handing her the thermos, and she felt her spirits lift. She sipped the cocoa that she’d laced with peppermint schnapps right from the place his mouth had touched.
“So are you home for the holidays?” he asked, looking out across the lake, not at her.
“No. My sister, my twin, is getting married. I’m going to be her maid of honor and, well, I want to show her that she can count on me. That I will be responsible, and not make another play for the groom that I can’t even blame on whiskey this time.”
She nearly slapped her hand over her mouth to stop the flow of information, but what the hell? If she was turning over a new leaf didn’t she have to confess her sins to someone? She’d been raised Catholic until her mother had blown out of town without a backward glance. But she had to own her mistakes and apologize. Or was that with AA?
“So your goal is to not seduce the groom?”
How had he made that sound like he was trying to understand instead of sarcastic or judgey? Tucker was in awe and found herself opening up a little more.
“The guy she’s marrying, Luke, is a cowboy and, well, I’m a cowgirl, and we ahhhh,” she trailed off. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was. And definitely not of the fun she’d had with Luke. He had been an amazing lover, but Tanner had not welcomed that un–asked for information, but Tucker loved sex. Absolutely loved flirting, teasing, touching, and then coming undone in a man’s arms and rocking his world. It was fun. And if she weren’t trying to turn over a new leaf for this month at least, she would be acting very differently with this long, lean, but definitely honed man sipping hot chocolate with her at Miracle Lake. He was prime, and this was a prime opportunity dropped in her lap, easy and tasty pickings, and it seemed like the gods of sex were mocking her. Trying to shatter her resolution before she officially made it.
She sucked in a deep breath for strength, but instead felt dizzy from his potent masculine scent. Pine and cedar and a bit of wood smoke with an underlying citrus smell and a tang of something unusual like patchouli. He smelled dark and mysterious. He made her hungry.
“We hooked up at a rodeo,” she rushed on recklessly, gathering her thoughts and running with them like they were clothes and she was fleeing a house fire. “Three rodeos actually,” because Tucker was always honest, which was not as appreciated as it should be since it was a trait everyone went on and on about virtuously although people rarely practiced it. “About five years ago.”
His stillness was soothing and a little spooky. She thought he’d ask a question, only he didn’t. He listened. Tucker felt a little unbalanced and searched his face in the cool glow of the moon and the warm glow of the flickering candles. Was he judging her? Was this turning him on? Did she want that? So many questions churned inside her body.
“Luke wasn’t just any cowboy,” she said. “I treated him like that. I thought at first he was like that. How was I to know? And then it was too late. I really liked him, and that scared the hell out of me. He was nice, and talked to me, and wanted to do things with me that didn’t just involve jumping into bed all the time, although that was so totally over-the-top amazing when we did, and I started to get scared that…that…he would dump me first so I was supposed to meet him after his prelim ride on a Saturday for a date, only I—” Tucker bit her lip. “It wasn’t like he’d given me a ring or anything.”
She took a sip of the hot chocolate, welcoming the sweetness of the cocoa and sugar and the burn of the schnapps.
Somehow saying the words now felt wrong. She didn’t want Laird to know what she’d done. How she still regretted her impulsive action. How she worried that she’d missed her chance of belonging and love and acceptance and now all of that was to be Tanner’s.
“I hooked up with a cowboy,” her stomach twisted in a hard knot and she pushed the chocolate into his hands. “Not even one I liked really, just to show Luke that he wasn’t special. Because he was. Really, really special. And he was hurt, more hurt than angry and I…I felt sick about it and regretted it so much and wanted to…I wanted him back as much as I wanted him to go away.”
The silence breathed between them. He put down the hot chocolate and stood up. She thought he was going to leave. Instead he took her hand and gently started to skate with her around the lake. Tucker didn’t even realize she was crying until her vision blurred, but his arm was around her waist and they swished through the candles and she squeezed her eyes shut as if that would get all the tears out. She never cried. Never.
“He was the only guy I’ve ever been with that liked me,” she whispered. “Who wanted to know me, wanted to know what I thought about, how I felt. It wasn’t just sexual with him, but I pushed him far away, so far away.” Her voice was a strangled whisper. “But he always stayed here.” She touched her forehead and then her heart. “He was always there at the back of my mind. Well, not exactly the back of my mind,” she clarified in full confession mode. “I kinda stalked him online because he switched rodeo circuits midseason. Just left after I cheated on him. So I followed his stats and news from online rodeo friends, and he didn’t have a girlfriend or anything, and when I saw that he was going to be at the Copper Mountain Rodeo, I came home because my dad had been on me for months, years really, to come home, and I thought I could see Luke and remind him how desirable I was still and that I’d changed and matured…”
She took a couple of deep breaths. “Only I hadn’t. I saw him dancing with my sister. No big deal. Cowboys dance with girls all the time. I knew he’d just got a part time job with the International Bull Riders’ Association as a representative to stock contractors and Tanner, my twin, breeds bulls. She’s wicked smart, and I thought it was business, so I cut in like a total bitch to act casual like I wasn’t dying to see Luke again and talk to him and be in his arms only it wasn’t…it wasn’t business between them.”
The skating had relaxed her, tired her out. And the dark made her feel a little safer. The last six months had actually been hell. She’d lost some competitions she should have won. Stupid mistakes. Lost sponsors. Had a Hollywood scandal with a married director that had given her more notoriety than her small parts ever had, but for the first time in twenty-seven years, Tucker didn’t subscribe to the adage that bad publicity was good publicity. She not only didn’t get the job the director had promised, her agent and manager had dumped her as well.
Tucker couldn’t see Laird’s face and he couldn’t see hers. Like a confessional without the walls.
“And then I felt totally rejected.” She let go of his hand. Stopped skating. This was dumb. Confessing to a beautiful stranger, but maybe he wasn’t real. Maybe he was part of the lake. Wasn’t that a Tennyson poem or something? No, that had been a lady. Maybe. Tanner would know.
He looped around and stopped in front of her. She looked up. She wasn’t short at five foot eight but he was a whole lot taller. And while he was slim, his shoulders were broad, and she’d briefly been able to feel the tight abs underneath his sweater and open jacket. It was sexy and reassuring. She realized she’d never stood with a man like this. Body to body without dancing or taking each other’s clothes off. Never had just stood there looking, but not touching.
She could practically feel the heat radiating off him, and she was so cold. Without thinking, Tucker just let herself melt into him. After a brief hesitation his arms came around her. Her body, practically vibrating with tension, eased a little. He rested his chin on her hair.
“I did something stupid,” she said.
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They began to skate again, and his glide hitched for a second. She didn’t realize how much she’d been relying on him to steer and steady her until she nearly fell, but he easily balanced them and continued the glide, even turned them so they were skating backwards.
“You’re really good at this,” she said shakily, a bit terrified but liking the sensation. “You’re strong and coordinated.” And it wasn’t a come on she realized. “Hockey?”
“Yeah.”
He was easy to be with, to talk to, no demands, but yet she felt like he was listening. And understanding. She loved the feel of his gloved hand in her mittened one. She could feel his warmth. And then the arm around her waist, the hand at her hip leading her. Tucker always led. She’d never been led, and it was a novel sensation to relax. To give over.
“I did something worse than stupid actually,” she whispered her voice thread thin, and she didn’t care if he could hear her or not but still the words had to get out. They really needed to get out of her. “I saw her watching us talk and dance. And she looked like she used to look when she was a teenager and a boy she liked liked me better. And I thought who cares? He can’t really like her that much. They just met. And he used to really, really be into me so I thought it would be like that again. Like before. Only it wasn’t.
“He couldn’t seem to get away from me fast enough. I didn’t handle it well,” Tucker said in the understatement of the year. “I found Tanner sulking behind the hay bales where she always used to hide and I sat down and made it sound like Luke was still into me. She was so hurt. I’d never seen her like that. And that made me reckless because I’d hurt her, and he’d rejected me so I showed up drunk later that night at his trailer like that would make him change his mind.”
The Christmas Challenge Page 2