Tucker shrugged with one shoulder. “She’s had on a brave face. But I think it’s been harder on her than she lets on. She found him, you know. After the overdose, she found him in his room. She called for an ambulance, but they couldn’t save him. She called me from the hospital. That was the only time since it happened that I’ve seen her cry; she’s been acting strong, but I think things are different when she’s by herself.”
Becky nodded, thinking about how it must have been for her mother to find her son that way, and to have been all alone when it happened. Briefly, she closed her eyes, as a wash of guilt swept over her; when she opened them, she discovered that Tucker had taken hold of her hand. She didn’t pull away from him, and wondered at herself over that for a moment.
“By the time we get into Philly and through baggage claim, it’s going to be pretty late, not to mention the time it’ll take for the ride home. I don’t want to bring you to her doorstep that late at night; it’s going to be a surprise that you’re home as it is. I don’t want to… to spring it on her, as she’s getting ready for bed, or worse, to show up after she’s already in bed, asleep.” Tucker glanced up at her eyes to see if she was following him, seeing the direction he was heading in. Becky wondered if her eyes looked as wide as dinner plates because that was sure what they felt like. “I thought you could come back home with me, just for tonight. And then tomorrow morning we’ll go on over to your mom’s.”
A thousand thoughts fought for Becky’s tongue at his suggestion, but she swallowed them all back. He was right about showing up unexpected at her mother’s door that late at night. And staying in a hotel didn’t make a lot of sense, either. But she knew being in his house again would be a hard, emotional challenge for her to win.
Telling herself to buck up, Becky nodded her head. She looked around them at the people coupled together, the families greeting traveling loved ones, the weary and bored children being entertained by even wearier, but loving, parents. A few minutes passed in silence between her and Tucker and then she made a quiet confession to him: “I don’t think I’m going to know what to do to comfort her.”
Tucker gave her hand a firm squeeze. “Yes, you will,” he assured her softly. “And if it doesn’t come to you right away, I’ll be there to help. I promise.”
He’d never made her a promise that he hadn’t kept, and that knowledge was something small for Becky to hold onto right then.
* * * *
Tucker knew that Becky was feeling vulnerable, and he wished there was something more he could do to put her at ease. But the truth was, there really wasn’t much else, other than just being there for her; being on her side. And he was already doing that – with the small exception of the spanking earlier, though that had been in her best interests as well, whether she recognized it or not.
As they waited for their time to board, he watched her out of the corner of his eye, noting again how she looked different, yet still the same. Her dark red hair was longer, and lacked the usual shaping and style that she’d regularly maintained back home with trips to the hairdresser every two weeks. She was thinner too, her body more angular, though it still made his groin tighten, just to look at her. Her generous mouth and soft lips were chapped and red. In short, she looked like she wasn’t taking very good care of herself in New York; or maybe, she just didn’t have the time.
He knew she must be working long hours establishing herself in her profession as a teacher; and he assumed that, especially knowing Becky as well as he did, she was probably coming in early or staying late to work with students that needed extra help. There was also the waitressing job she worked on an as-needed basis, to help pay off her college loan faster. Basically, he knew she just didn’t have the money for haircuts and new clothes, or the time to get the right amount of sleep and make substantial meals. Hopefully, he could amend that, even if only for a short time, while she was at home.
For right now, there was no mistaking the fear in her eyes, as she watched the huge airliners filling up and slowly moving down the runways outside the window near their seating area. And while some of that fear was most likely from worrying over what would come in the next few days with her mother, Tucker knew it wasn’t all just from that.
“I’ll be right back,” he told her a moment later.
He left her with the bags and went to the nearest gift shop. Within five minutes, he was back.
“Thought you could use this,” he said, holding up a bottle of ginger ale. “Here, I already opened it for you.”
Surprise lightened her drawn face, as she reached out to take the bottle. “Thanks, I’m surprised you remembered.”
He winked. “Watching you watch those jets, there’s no forgetting that you hate to fly. And I assumed you still refuse to take anything to help you relax, so I thought if nothing else, the ginger ale might help settle your stomach.”
She smiled. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Tucker indicated a packet of chewing gum before tucking it in his shirt pocket. “To keep our ears from popping,” he said, opening a soda of his own. Before he took a swig, he tossed a paperback book into her lap and felt his stomach drop to his knees at the little excited gasp of surprise it elicited from Becky. Who would have guessed that after all this time, the smallest show of pleasure on her part could still affect him so?
Her soda momentarily forgotten, Becky had already snatched up the novel and was skimming the back cover. When she was done, she glanced back up at Tucker, and the haunted look was gone from her gaze. Her eyes shone instead. “I didn’t even know there was a new one out by her!”
Tucker shrugged. “Obviously, I didn’t either,” he said. The book’s author wrote romances, and of course, Tucker didn’t keep up on those. But he knew which writers were his girl’s favorites, and when he’d seen the novel in the gift shop, he’d taken a chance that it was one she might not have read yet, or one she might enjoy reading again.
“I’m surprised you remembered her name,” Becky added, looking at him with a steady, searching gaze, as if she was seeing him for the first time.
Tucker didn’t really know what to say. Most everything that came to mind right then seemed sappy or cocky. He remembered everything about Becky; he didn’t see how he could possibly ever forget them. He was surprised that she wouldn’t realize that was the case.
“Thanks, Tucker,” Becky said, finally looking away and taking a drink from her soda can. She flipped through the book, until she reached the first chapter. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve read a book for the sheer enjoyment of it.”
Tucker sighed. He had a feeling that it had been a long time since Becky had allowed herself the time for the sheer enjoyment of very much. “I’m glad you haven’t read it before,” he said. He resisted the urge to touch her face, where her smile still lingered, and turned his full attention away from her instead. The planes moved in a never-ending cycle of motion and change outside the window.
* * * *
Tucker nudged Becky and reluctantly watched, as she lifted her head from his shoulder and slid sleepy eyes up to meet his face. She blinked at him for a moment in confusion and then glanced around her at the other people on the airplane.
“Buckle up,” he advised her, indicating the light above them, “We’re coming into Philadelphia.”
“I fell asleep?” she asked groggily, as she fumbled for her seatbelt.
“Yup,” he agreed, fighting back a grin, as she frowned and tried to put that together with what she knew about herself. Becky had never slept on a flight before, that much they both knew for a fact; hell, she never could relax long enough to even concentrate on a magazine article while in the air.
When she next looked his way, her brow was a hard, suspicious line over her green eyes. “Did you put something in my soda at the airport?” she accused.
“Me?” Tucker asked, feigning offense. “I can’t believe you would even think that I’d do something like that…”
“Oh, my
God, you did!” she hissed. “No wonder I feel like a zombie! What did you put in my soda??”
Tucker patted her arm where it lay on the armrest between their seats. “Relax, it was just a Dramamine. I knew it wouldn’t take much to put you out since you never take anything stronger than Tylenol…”
Becky groaned as if he’d just admitted to spiking her drink with high-grade cocaine. “Tucker, you know I hate to take anything…!”
“Becky, for once in your life, just relax, okay? I only did it because I know how sick you make yourself with nerves when you fly. I didn’t want you to have to go through that this time, and I didn’t exactly relish watching you sit and worry yourself half to death, either. It’s not the end of the world – one little nausea pill is not going to make you into your brother.”
She stared at him, silent. “I know that,” she finally said, very slowly.
“Good.” He gave her a half smile. “Then relax. And give me your hand because we’re about to land.”
Reluctantly, still trying to decide if she should be pissed at him or not, Becky gave him her hand. She had no other choice really; of all the things she hated about flying, the landing was the one she hated the most.
Tucker chuckled beside her, as she squeezed her eyes shut. He pressed a kiss on the top of her hand, right over her tight fisted knuckles. “No worries, Red. I’m right here. It’s okay.”
Though she knew logically that Tucker Rhodes couldn’t do anything whatsoever to ensure her safety, as the plane landed, it helped nevertheless to hear him say those words and to hold tight to his hand, as the huge airliner barreled onto the ground and came to a hard stop.
When the ordeal of landing was over, they made their way off the plane, Tucker leading the way and tugging Becky along behind him, so they wouldn’t get separated in the crowd. They stopped briefly at baggage claim to pick up Becky’s suitcase and then walked through the airport out to the garage.
The site of Tucker’s beat-up old Chevy pickup made Becky’s breath catch, and something like tears burned in her throat, which seemed like the stupidest thing in the world. It was a damn truck, for crying out loud! And damn ugly, at that!
It was then that she fully realized how difficult this trip was going to be, and not just the parts involving her mother and her brother’s death.
She pasted on a false smile that made her face feel like it would shatter into a million pieces and allowed Tucker to take her suitcase and stow it in the back of the truck. He opened the passenger door and gave her a hand up into the cab.
Becky was glad for a moment alone, as he shut the door and walked around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. The cab smelled so familiar. Of course, she’d been smelling Tucker himself for the past several hours, but the cab was filled with his scent and so many more familiar ones, that if it could have been bottled it would have been called Nostalgia, for sure, at least, for her. There was the scent of the coffee he favored, which he brewed daily at home, and the aftershave he’d worn since he’d started shaving. Mixed in, were other familiar scents, like the shampoo he used and the earthy smell of hay that came into the truck on his clothes or perhaps on the coat of his dog, Spirit.
One deep breath, and Becky immediately knew it… she was officially home.
Tucker jumped into the truck beside her and started the engine, seemingly unaware of her reaction to the truck and its familiar sounds and smells.
“You hungry?” he asked, as he pulled on his seatbelt. “’Cause I’m starved. We could stop at the diner on the way home, if you want…”
On the way home…
“Nah, that’s okay… can we just eat something at your place?”
Tucker grinned. “Sure. I’ll make us one of my famous omelets to share.”
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. He knew the way to her heart – those omelets of his were one of her favorite things to eat. He was a master with a couple of eggs and a frying pan.
“Sounds great.”
Tucker winked at her, as he put the truck in gear. “Let’s get going then, huh?”
Chapter Three
Becky didn’t expect to feel so choked up at just the sight of Tucker’s farmhouse when it came into view. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably at the sudden lump in her throat and gazed out the window at the familiar contours of the house and the wide, open fields that spilled out around it like the unfurled pages of a lengthy scroll.
The minute they stepped out of the truck, a muffled bark was heard from inside the house, and Tucker chuckled. “Sounds like Spirit waited up for you,” he said, as he grabbed her bags and led the way up the short walkway to the front porch.
Becky attempted a smile in return, though her stomach felt suddenly queasy at the upcoming night. How was she going to spend the night here?? Where was she going to sleep? She knew that long ago, Tucker had converted what used to be his parents’ bedroom into an office, and his sister’s old room into a place for storage and his gym equipment. That left only one other room, and only one single bed – Tucker’s own. Well, that and the couch, of course.
She was fairly sure he wouldn’t dream of asking her to sleep on the couch. And though he might want to join her in the bed, he wouldn’t push that issue so soon or at this emotional time, either. So that left her in his bed, alone.
Which might not sound so bad, but if she’d been so shook up by the smells and familiarity of the cab of his truck, what was lying in his bed going to do to her?
Taking a deep breath to try to steady her nerves, Becky followed Tucker inside the house and nearly tripped as his dog, Spirit, bounded right up to her.
Sniffing and wiggling with delight at his owner’s return, and with someone new to investigate in tow, the Weimaraner circled her, beating his stubby tail in a friendly sort of wave.
“He remembers you,” Tucker insisted, pausing with her bags at the base of the stairs. He waved with one of them towards the inner area of the house. “Just make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”
Petting the dog as she went, Becky moved through the house to the kitchen, noting how little things had changed. There was a pair of discarded dirty socks by Tucker’s recliner in the living room, and an empty beer bottle on the table beside it. The same photos and pictures that had adorned the walls when his parents had been alive still held court. The few that Tucker had added himself over the years, many of them featuring Becky herself, also stood in their usual places. She didn’t know quite what to make of that, considering that they’d been officially broken up for well over a year now – even though they’d remained something like friends; she was surprised to see her own image still smiling out at her from so many places throughout the house.
In the kitchen, she flipped on a light and sat down at the table, where she turned her full attention to Spirit. Talking to the excited Weim, she ruffed his coat and scratched behind his ears, laughing when the usually dominant dog fell to the floor at her feet and rolled onto his back for a belly rub.
Tucker’s deep laugh made her jump, as he came into the room. “He always did have a soft spot for you.”
Becky watched Tucker take the supplies from the fridge to build their omelets. “Can I help you with that?”
He waved her off. “Nah, I work better in the kitchen on my own. Just relax.”
“Where… where did you put my bags?” she asked.
“They’re in my room. I figured you could sleep there, and I’ll use the pull-out sofa bed in the living room.”
“Are you sure?”
Tucker sent her a look. “I’m not going to have you sleep on the sofa, Becky. Don’t be silly. Besides, it’s no big deal; it’s only for one night.”
She nodded. “Okay, thanks.”
“And then tomorrow morning we’ll go together to your mom’s.”
“Right.”
It occurred to Becky, as she watched the muscles shifting beneath Tucker’s shirt while he worked, that this trip was going to be one trial after ano
ther, each one most likely more difficult to get through than the last… Tonight, there would be the task of getting through the night in Tucker’s bed – the bed where she’d lost her virginity, the bed where he’d first told her he loved her, the bed where she’d dreamed of him while asleep in his arms… Oh boy.
Tomorrow, she’d have to get through seeing her mom again after having run away from everything and not calling her in over a year – and she’d most likely have to accomplish that on very little or no sleep, based on the outcome of tonight’s trial. After that, there would be the viewing, if there was going to be one, and the funeral to make it through. Then… well, at some point, she was going to have to tell her mother and Tucker goodbye because she had a job waiting for her back in New York.
“Hey,” Tucker called, waving a hand in front of Becky’s face, his head cocked inquisitively at her. Becky blinked stupidly, realizing slowly that apparently he’d been talking to her while she’d been worrying over things. She smiled numbly and raised her eyebrows.
“What do you want on your omelet, Red?”
“Gimme the works,” she answered without hesitation. So what, if it was late at night, and what she ate might give her indigestion or stick to her thighs since she wouldn’t have a chance to burn off the calories before going to bed? She was going to need all the energy she could get for what she would have to deal with while she was home….
* * * *
In the dream, Becky had a very, very red bottom. God only knew what she’d done to wind up that way, but it was clear that Tucker had not gone easy on her for it.
In her sleep, she reached one hand back to touch the area that was painted scarlet. Her sex pulsed in her sleep, and a moan fell from her parted lips.
In the dream, Tucker shifted her in his arms and tipped her face up for his perusal. He used the tips of his thumbs to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. His thumbs felt rough and calloused, as they always did in real life.
She wore no pants or underwear in the dream; they’d obviously been discarded during the spanking she had endured. And now their absence made it all the easier for Tucker to reach between their bodies, undo his jeans, push them down, and sheath himself snugly inside of Becky.
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