He lifted his head. “I don’t mean you and me. Just the way we went about it.”
“Okay.” Her voice trembled and she quickly cleared her throat. Even though she didn’t like his words, his deep voice vibrated right through her, making her need. There was too much to him, too much to her feelings for him. The smart thing would be for her to run, but one word from him, from that commanding voice, and she’d be right back.
He just looked at her.
Although he was of medium build, there was something larger than life, better than reality, about Tucker Johnson. Even tortured, even sad, his dark hair and deep eyes drew her to him. He was everything solid about Texas and the ranch he ran.
She gave in and took the final step to stand between his knees. “We’ll figure it out.” Threading her hands through his dark hair, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to a bruise above his right eyebrow. His masculine scent surrounded her. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”
He grasped her hips with strong hands and looked up. “You and Tate aren’t right for each other, and I know that. But I should’ve done things differently.”
“We both should have.” Warmth spread from his hands on her, zinged around her body, and landed in very private places. Even so, she tried to concentrate on his words. “I care about you, Tucker.” Was it wrong? Her heart said to fight for him, while her head told her to give him an out. “The best thing for your family would be for us to quit now and for you to make up with your brother.” What Zeke and Alice must think of her. While she’d seen them from afar, she hadn’t had a conversation with either one of them since getting caught with Tucker.
His grip tightened, and he pulled her into him.
She stumbled and fell, righting herself by straddling his strong legs. The muscled body beneath her shot desire through her with the force of a strong whiskey. “Tucker?”
He brushed her blonde hair away from her face. “No.”
She blinked. “No?”
“We’re not calling it quits.” His determined voice rang throughout her entire body.
“But your brother—”
“Will have to forgive us at some point.” Tucker’s eyes flared. “What’s done is done, and now we need to figure out how to go forward from here. Do you want to go forward with me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, her breath quickening. Yet Tate’s harsh words, the ones about Tucker’s competitiveness, kept pricking at her conscious. “Your brother stopped by the clinic earlier.”
Tucker stilled. “Are you all right? Did he say anything? If he did—”
“I’m fine. He just wanted closure between us, I think.” She settled into Tucker’s lap. “Tate said that you only want me because he and I were dating.” She bit her lip.
Tucker reared back. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. He’s hurt and he’s angry.” But was he right? Were the brothers really that competitive? Oh, she probably deserved to fall and hard, but still, she hoped for something good with Tucker. He understood her. “He mentioned some girl from high school.”
Tucker sighed. “I tried to stay away from you because of Tate, believe me. That was in the minus column.” He smiled and cupped her jaw. “I’d never compete for a girl. I did date one of his ex-girlfriends after high school, but she was not for me, and I learned that quickly.” He mock shuddered. “The girl was into kinky sex before it was popular.”
Humor bubbled up Hannah’s throat. She chuckled. “You’re joking.”
“No. She scared the hell out of me.” Tucker’s grin widened. “Though if you ever want to give it a shot, let me know.”
Hannah snorted. “You want me to spank you?”
His laugh eased something that had tightened inside her. “Um, no. I was thinking of maybe tying you to the bed and tickling you for a while.” Two of the cats jumped up on the sofa, rubbing against his leg. “Although I might get attacked by the horde here.”
“They are protective,” Hannah agreed, scooting forward a little bit and flattening her hands across his strong chest.
Interest lightened his eyes. “Are you making a move on me, Hannah Grossman?”
“I might be,” she murmured, leaning down to brush her mouth over his. “Would that shock you?”
“That’d please me greatly,” he said, his heated breath warming her lips. “We haven’t come up with a game plan yet, though.”
Her game plan consisted of getting the clothes off that spectacular body. Tucker paid attention to her in a way that was unreal and nothing like she’d ever experienced. Every time he touched her, it was like he knew exactly what she needed. “There’s a part of me that just wants to leave and start over somewhere else, just us, where nobody knows what we’ve done.”
He kissed her, going deep, stealing her breath. Her body flared to life, primed and ready for him.
His hands clenched her hips, pulling her against his erection. She gasped and tried to maneuver even closer.
He released her mouth. “We’re not running, lady.”
“I know.” Her clothes were suddenly too tight. “It was just a quick fantasy.”
He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, his gaze dropping to her plain cotton bra. “There’s nothing wrong with fantasies. I’ve had plenty about you for years.” With a quick flick of his wrist, the front clasp on her bra released. “Let me show you.”
As he leaned in, everything Hannah had ever wanted roared through her. They had to figure out a way to be together.
She was quickly discovering she’d do anything to keep him.
* * * *
Morning light pierced through a slim layer of gray clouds. Tucker left Hannah sleeping peacefully after a pretty wild night, his angst calmed. She was the woman for him, and now he needed to make it right for everyone, especially her.
In less than ten minutes, he pulled into his sister’s driveway.
Within seconds, the front door opened, and a little girl careened out and for the car, her seven-year-old legs pumping furiously.
He jumped out of his truck and lifted her, smooching kisses across her neck. “How’s my favorite niece?” He levered back to check out her sparkling blue eyes.
Carol clapped her hands on his face and studied his bruise. “You got hit?”
He winced. “Yeah, sweetheart. I got hit, but I’m okay now.” Turning, he caught sight of his sister on the front porch, her hands on her hips.
“Carol Douglas? You know not to leave the front door open like this,” Tara called, exasperation in her tone.
Carol rolled her eyes and snuggled her face into Tucker’s neck. “Oh yeah, Mama,” she mumbled. “We wouldn’t want Danny to get out and go away, would we?” She sniffed loudly.
Tucker frowned and ran a hand down her white-blonde hair. She felt so damn tiny in his arms, and yet, he knew she’d grown at least an inch the last year. He’d heard that Danny had gotten out several times lately. The little guy was only five years old and had been diagnosed with autism, so he had to be watched carefully. “Carol? Do you want Danny to leave?” Tucker whispered.
She shrugged against him.
Ah, hell. Well, of all the people around, Tucker understood having problems with a sibling. “Sweetheart?” He waited until she’d leaned back to face him. “You might think you want Danny to go away right now, but maybe someday you’ll change your mind and want him here.”
Carol frowned. “Uh huh.”
He bit back a smile and turned for the house, wondering if he’d be welcomed. Tara adored both him and Tate evenly, and he’d really hurt Tate. Then he’d spent his free time with Hannah lately and hadn’t paid attention to his sister like he should have. Would she be angry?
As he reached her, she leaned up and pecked a kiss to his cheek.
That one simple touch eased him as nothing else could have.
She shook her head. “Boy, have you goofed up. I heard about the fight in the middle of town.”
He bobbed his head. “I figured.” His sister still loved him, and he could figure
out the rest. Following her inside the modest home, he breathed in the smell of blueberry muffins. “You’ve been baking.”
“No muffins for you until we talk,” she retorted. “Carol? Please go finish cleaning your room.”
Carol shook her head.
Tucker kissed the girl’s forehead. “Honey? Clean your room and then we’ll plan a play date, just you and me. Maybe we can go to the movies next week.”
The girl frowned. “Danny doesn’t have to clean his room. Ever.”
“Yes, he does,” Tara said evenly. “Now, Carol.”
Tucker set his niece down.
Carol flipped her hair and stomped out of the family room and up the stairs to the bedroom. Tucker got an instant view of what she’d be like as a teenager. “What in the world is going on?”
Tara pushed toy trucks off the well-worn couch. “You tell me, brother.”
Tucker lost his smile and sat, waiting until she’d turned off the television in the corner and then dropped into a matching loveseat. “I just wanted to try again with Tate, so I found him after lunch. He said some stuff, I lost my temper, and then…”
“You always could push each other’s buttons.” She shoved curly brown hair away from her cheek, her frown marring her pretty features. Unlike Tucker, she had gray eyes that changed colors with her mood. Right now they appeared a little stormy. “A fistfight with your own brother in the middle of the street? Have you lost your mind?”
The words hurt. “Yes.”
A smile tickled her lips. “At least we agree on that.”
Tucker glanced around at the toys and general chaos of the room. “Where’s Danny?”
“Bryce needed to go work at the church for a couple of hours, and he took Danny with him.” Genuine pleasure lit her intelligent face. “Danny loves the quietness of the church, and he needs to spend time one on one with Bryce.”
Tucker nodded. Bryce had seemed so withdrawn when Danny had been diagnosed, which had resulted in him pushing everyone away. Maybe he was doing better now. “I’m glad.”
“Me, too.” Tara crossed her jean-clad legs. “Back to you, buddy.”
He sighed. “I know I screwed up, but Hannah and I belong together.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Tara pointed to the bruise on his face. “I’m thinking that Tate still disagrees?”
“Funny.” Tucker fingered the painful reminder of his brother’s fist. Or maybe it had been an elbow. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Are you going to keep seeing Hannah?”
“Yes.” There was no budging on that issue. “What should I do, Tar?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure. If Tate found somebody he really loved, maybe he’d understand.”
“Right.” Tucker shook his head. “There’s more. I think that we hurt his political career with what we did. I mean, people are whispering about Tate and that he was so easily fooled. And that was before we grappled on the ground like angry teenagers.”
Tara paled. “That’ll kill him.”
It was telling that everyone was more worried that Tate had possibly lost the election than his having lost Hannah. Tate didn’t have the love for Hannah that he did his ambitions. “There has to be a way to help him with the election.”
“I’ll think of something,” Tara said.
“You always do.” Tucker’s stomach growled, but he knew he wouldn’t get a muffin until they finished talking. “How are things? Carol mentioned something about Danny getting out.”
“I think Carol has been letting him out,” Tara whispered. “We found him almost by the gazebo yesterday, and I know I’d locked the door. That’s one of the reasons Bryce took him today. But when I talked to Carol, she denied unlocking the door.”
“I’ll make more of an effort with her,” Tucker said. “Take her to the movies and give her some attention.”
Tara’s eyes sparkled. “That’d be great.”
The door opened and Bryce walked in with a sleeping Danny in his arms. He gave a quick nod and disappeared upstairs, returning by himself. “Tucker,” Bryce said.
“Bryce,” Tucker responded, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. The usually put-together reverend’s reddish-blond hair was askew, and his T-shirt was partially out of his pants. “Busy day?”
Bryce leaned down and pressed a kiss to his wife’s forehead before dropping into a worn blue chair. “Danny was a handful.”
Tara leaned forward. “Did you get your work done?”
“No,” Bryce said with a sigh. He focused on his brother-in-law. “How are you doing?”
Tucker smiled. “I’m fine.” No way was he going to confess all to Tara’s husband. Not that the whole town didn’t already know his sins. There were no secrets in Storm. Not really. “Tara said that Danny has been getting out.”
Bryce cut a look at Tara. “Yes, but we’re handling it. Nothing to worry about.”
Tara pressed her lips together.
Tucker frowned. He’d never understood why Bryce seemed to keep the Johnson family at arm’s length. Family mattered. Even now, if Tucker really needed help, Tate would be there in a second. Sure, he’d probably punch Tucker in the face before helping, but he’d still show up. “I’m not worried, but I’d like to help if I can. Maybe take Carol out to a movie next weekend?”
Why did Tara seem to be holding her breath?
Bryce studied him, his body relaxing into the chair. “That’d be nice, Tucker.”
“Great.” Tucker stood. “I have to get to work on the ranch now, but Tara? You promised me a muffin.”
Chapter Seven
Tara Douglas waited in the booth at the cafe, feeling oddly guilty for leaving Bryce at home with both kids after Tucker had left about an hour before. But man, it was nice to have a break.
Her brother slid into the booth across from her. “You summoned me?” he asked wryly.
Tara grinned. “You could say that. I’m worried about you.”
Tate reached for a menu. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”
That was Tate.
She flashed back to a memory of them in grade school when he’d been hit with a line drive and broken his collarbone during a baseball game at recess. He’d paused, his face beyond pale, and calmly stated that it was time to go home. Then he’d passed out.
The waitress came by and Tara ordered a cheeseburger.
“I’ll have the same.” Tate pushed the menu back into the holder and waited until the waitress had left. “I hope you’re not here on Tucker’s behalf.”
Tara sat back. “I’m here on your behalf, butthead.”
Tate grinned. “Nobody has called me a butthead in at least a week.”
“Then it’s time. How’s your face?” She nodded at the ugly bruise cutting across his cheekbone.
“Coming in handy with the ladies.” Tate grinned. “Makes me look tough.”
Actually, it did give him a bad-boy appearance that looked good on his handsome face. “From anybody in particular?” she asked.
“No.” He lost the smile. “Don’t even think of setting me up with somebody so I can find real love and forgive Tucker.”
She winced. “That obvious, huh?”
“Mom has called twice with hints for me to ask out Marisol Moreno.”
Tara frowned. “Interesting. You know I adore Marisol, but she has it bad for Patrick.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m swearing off women,” Tate said darkly.
Well, it wasn’t the first time she’d heard one of her brothers say those words. Tara shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
“Gee, thanks, sis.” Tate took a drink from his sweating water glass. “Is your husband handling Danny’s diagnosis any better?”
Tara shook her head. “Oh no, little brother. We’re here to talk about your life, not mine this time.” Tate had always tried to fix her life for her, and while sometimes it had been handy, right now, they needed to work on his problems. “How are you doing? Really?”
He sighed. “Really? I’m pissed as hell at my brother and former girlfriend. I have nightmares of Christmases years in the future where I have to buy presents for their kids, and I’m the old creepy guy who lives at the end of the lane.”
Tara chuckled. “You have every right to be mad.”
“Thanks,” he said dryly. “I thought they would’ve broken up by now.”
Not likely. She cleared her throat. “What makes you the angriest?”
He set down his glass. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what’s worse? What Tucker did to you, what Hannah did to you, or what they did to your career?” She tried to keep her tone light.
Tate slapped a hand on the table. “I am so tired of everyone thinking this is just about my damn career.”
“I don’t think that,” Tara countered. “I promise.”
He settled back. “Fine. What makes me the maddest?” At her nod, he continued, “Tucker. My brother has now shared the woman I thought I’d marry. His betrayal is what makes me the angriest.”
That’s what Tara had been afraid of. Even if Tate someday realized that Hannah wasn’t the right one for him, Tucker had still betrayed him. Tate had many good qualities, but being forgiving wasn’t exactly at the top of the list. “Is there any way you can see yourself forgiving him?” she asked.
Tate studied her. “Not while he’s still seeing Hannah. The idea of them together makes me want to puke.”
Tara sipped her water. Something told her that Tucker and Hannah might go the long haul. She sighed. “We’ll keep working on that. For now, I have an idea for your campaign.”
“Really?” Tate cocked his head to the side. “Go on.”
“Well, since you seemed to be hit by this newest problem, how about if the church has a bake sale in support of your campaign?” She leaned toward him, warming to the idea. “We can get all the older women involved, and you know they vote. If they think they’re part of the entire campaign, they’ll pull out all the stops and force everyone they know to vote for you.”
Tate drummed his fingers on the table. “That’s brilliant.”
“I know.” Warmth infused her. Now all she had to do was convince Bryce to let her turn his congregation into a campaign staff. “There’s a meeting of the women’s auxiliary group tomorrow night, and I can pitch the idea then. That you’re about safety for the community, yada yada.”
Against the Wind, Season 2, Episode 1 (Rising Storm) Page 5