“There’ll be drinking and carousing,” Tanner pointed out again. “I don’t imagine many of the parents are going to allow this.”
“So it all comes down to what everybody else thinks and does?” Tucker asked.
Tanner’s frown deepened. “No, it doesn’t. It has to do with being smart.”
“Are you saying Shawn can’t be trusted?”
“No, and he knows that.”
“Then why not let him go?”
“Because it’s a rule.”
Sadness slid through Tucker. “Yeah, I remember those. You know, I’ve heard guys say the marines are tough, but you’ve got even them beat, Tanner. You always did.”
“You went wild after Dad died,” Tanner replied. “You don’t have any idea what it was like to have the responsibility of everything, including a little brother. You never had any responsibility.”
Tucker couldn’t deny the truth, but anger churned inside of him. He’d resented Tanner in the past for trying to be his father, and he resented him now for trying to be Shawn’s. Even worse, Tanner had been Shawn’s father, and it was Tucker’s own fault.
“He’s eighteen,” Tucker said, trying his best to diffuse his anger. “He’s old enough—by law—to make his own decisions.” He turned to Shawn. “Go to the party, but use your common sense. Drinking can get you in trouble. All kinds of trouble. Sometimes trouble you don’t even know about,” he added, thinking of how he’d become a father.
Tanner took a step closer to Tucker. “You can’t do this. You can’t walk into my house and cross the rules I’ve set.”
“He’s my son,” Tucker said simply.
“And I raised him,” Tanner shot back, “while you were out playing at the rodeo, so irresponsible you didn’t even know you had a son.”
The words felt like knives, cutting through him, and Tucker turned on his heel and shoved out the door. By the time he got to his SUV, his emotions were churning so hard, he couldn’t think straight.
As he drove out of the yard, fingers clenching the steering wheel in a death grip as he headed for anywhere but the Rocking O, he couldn’t deny that Tanner had spoken the truth. He had been irresponsible, but it had been Tanner who had made him that way.
He was in Desperation before he even knew where he was going, and pulled into the high school parking lot, sending gravel flying as he came to a stop. He hadn’t been this angry since the day he’d left the ranch when he was fifteen, determined to show his older brother that he was a man.
Only he hadn’t been a man then. He’d been a kid and had felt the death of his father deep in his soul, but he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge or show it. He’d been a kid whose mother had cared more about rodeo than her two sons and left them behind. Or so he’d been told at the time.
Grabbing the gym bag he’d left in the backseat, he slammed the car door behind him and strode to the back door of the school. It was Saturday, and Jim Perkins would probably be around, doing paperwork that never got done during the week.
Tucker found the coach in the weight room, putting away a stack of clean towels. “Mind if I work out a little?” Tucker asked.
“Go ahead,” Perkins answered with a nod in the direction of the equipment. “I’ve got a family thing to go to, so lock up when you’re done.” He turned and studied Tucker. “You look like you need to burn off some energy or something, Tucker. Feel free to use the whirlpool when you’re done. It can do wonders for those times when you’d like to snap someone’s head off.”
Tucker thanked him and changed into his workout clothes. As he settled on the weight bench, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He hated fighting with Tanner, always had. But his brother had to learn that he wasn’t always right.
Tucker hadn’t shed a tear since his dad had told him his mama had left them. Not when he learned his dad had been killed by a bull, not when his unit had been hit by marauders and he and Smithson had been wounded and left to die. Not even when he held Smithson as he drew his last breath. But at that moment, his eyes filled with hot tears, and all he could do was hope he could stay around until Shawn’s graduation.
Chapter Eight
The tires on Paige’s car crunched on the gravel of the empty school parking lot as she pulled in and parked. After turning off the engine, she leaned her head back against the seat of her car and sighed.
She hadn’t been sleeping well, and after a long Saturday morning at the clinic, all she wanted to do was go home and crawl into bed. Her friends were expecting her to join them at Kate’s later that night, and if she wanted to be something more than a walking zombie, she knew she needed a nap. But she’d told the coach she’d be by with the new workout sheets.
Making herself move, she reached for the papers on the seat next to her and slowly climbed out of her car. She knew why she wasn’t sleeping well, but she didn’t want to think about it. Doing that would only make it harder to forget, meaning she’d lose even more sleep. As she walked toward the building where the weight training room was located, she did what she always did when she was stressed and tried to envision a clear mountain stream, shutting out the kiss with Tucker under the mistletoe, and then the dance they’d shared. If only she could wipe out the memory of his hand curved around her waist, and his other hand holding hers.
Unfortunately for her, the trick was beginning to wear off, and she shook her head, sighing again at her own weakness.
She’d expected to find the coach in the training room, and called out his name as she walked through the door. Getting no reply, she searched for him in his office, but found it as empty and silent as the hallway had been. Thinking he might be putting away equipment from the game the day before, she looked for him first in the locker room, and then in the weight room, without success. When she heard sounds in the whirlpool room, she headed there, expecting to find him stacking towels.
But it wasn’t the football coach she found. It was Tucker.
She froze inside the doorway, her gaze riveted on his wet, muscled arms stretched out along the tub rim. His head was leaned back, and he looked perfectly at peace, the opposite of how she was suddenly feeling. His eyes were closed, and his dark, wet lashes rested on high cheekbones, as steam drifted above the water to curl his dark hair and caress his bare shoulders and chest, glistening from the water swirling around him. His lips curved in a whisper of a smile of silent contentment.
She didn’t know how long she stood there, drinking in the sight of such perfection, but it couldn’t have been long. When she jumped and let out a slight squeak at the sound of the heavy door behind her closing, reverberating through the room, it was too late to make an escape.
Tucker’s eyes opened, and she knew the moment he saw her. He smiled.
She opened her mouth, but words escaped her. No simple hello, no apology came forth, just a slight intake of air as she watched him move to sit forward.
Reality hitting her was like a slap in the face. “I—I was looking for Coach,” she explained, and then realized that her voice was breathy, as if she’d been running. Her heart thudded in her chest and she swore it was probably loud enough that he could hear it.
“He was here earlier,” Tucker replied, “but he said something about having to go to some family thing.” Reaching for a towel on the small stool beside the tub, he grinned. “Better close your eyes, Doc. Guys tend to do this kind of thing in the all-together, and I’m no exception.”
Without thinking, she did as he suggested and listened to the splash of water as he moved. Certain he must be standing now, she was almost tempted to peek, but a quick reminder that she’d seen more than her share of men’s naked bodies kept her from it.
“You can open them now.”
She did. He was walking toward her, a towel knotted at his waist, another in his hand as he mopped at his damp hair. This was not the time to let her fantasies run away with her.
But before she could speak, she had to clear her throat. “Is your, uh, knee giving your trouble
?”
He stopped less than a foot in front of her, his gaze penetrating. He shook his head. “No trouble.”
Her lips trembled when she smiled. “Good.”
When she took a deep breath to steady herself, his scent invaded her. Heat radiated from him, and she knew it wasn’t only because of the warm whirlpool. She felt her own heat, burning like a flash fire through her.
A whisper in her mind cautioned her. Warned her. But it was drowned out by her need, shouting loud and clear. And she no longer craved sleep. She craved something else, something completely forbidden.
She didn’t notice he’d stepped closer until he spoke, his voice a raspy whisper. “I want you, Paige.”
Her mind warred with her body, but the heat won as she reached out and tentatively ran the tip of her finger down the middle of his chest. The contact was like lightning, and his sharp intake of air proved he felt the jolt of it, too.
Her legs nearly gave out, but she managed to remain standing. What was next, she wondered? Should she leave? Or should she—
“This isn’t fair.” His voice was husky. Rough.
She closed her eyes, trying to think of a reply, but it was as if she’d just finished off a gallon of cheap wine. Her mind was not cooperating, but, oh, her body was, and completely out of her control.
A gentle touch at the buttons on the front of her loose, cotton knit dress forced her to open her eyes, but it was an effort. It was as if she was drifting slowly through a dream. Had she fallen asleep in her car in the parking lot and was now dreaming?
Opening her eyes, she looked directly into his. If this was a dream, she hoped nothing would awaken her from it. If it wasn’t—
But she didn’t finish the thought, as he slipped each of the small buttons of her dress through the openings, never taking his eyes from hers. She wasn’t sure if she was still breathing, when he slowly eased her dress off her shoulders and then let it drop to the floor.
A shiver of heat and need raced through her when his lips touched the soft spot between her neck and her shoulder, and she sunk her teeth into her lip to keep from groaning out loud. Her head was spinning so fast that she leaned forward and was stopped by his rock-hard chest against her bare breasts. When had…?
The thought evaporated as he put his arms around her and pulled her closer. Common sense tried to intervene, but something deep inside overruled it, and she willingly raised her lips for the kiss she so needed.
TUCKER KNEW WHAT THEY were doing was probably wrong, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Paige since he’d met her, even though he’d been determined not to like her. Ignoring the attraction hadn’t worked, and it had only gotten worse. He’d wanted her long before he’d kissed her in the old orchard, but each time those feelings tried to surface, he denied them. What was happening now was nothing more than a natural progression of desire. He’d fought it long enough, and this time he wasn’t going to ignore it and pretend otherwise.
He moved to slip an arm under her legs and lifted her into his arms. Never giving a thought to the knee and leg that had led him to meet the woman he was carrying, he looked around the room. A weight room wasn’t the ideal place to make love to a woman, but there’d been worse. And then he remembered the tiny room where the wrestling equipment was stored. It was as prefect as they would get. And it had a door that would lock…just in case.
“Where—?”
“Shh,” he answered, adding a quick kiss. “Trust me on this.” At the equipment room, he twisted the doorknob, and the door swung open. As he’d hoped, there was a tall pile of wrestling mats in the corner.
“This is cozy,” she whispered, with a note of humor.
Easing her to her feet, he chuckled. “Better than the floor.”
“Or a weight bench,” she said, nodding to one in the opposite corner.
He reached for several towels that were stacked on a high shelf and arranged them on top of the stack of mats. When he finished, he slowly lowered the two of them to the mat.
He’d noticed when she first walked in, even in the dim lights of the whirlpool room, that she’d worn her dark hair down, and now he lifted one springy curl and watched it wrap itself around his finger. Burying his face in her fragrant hair, he breathed in the scent of it. Wanting to ignore the urgency he was feeling, he slowly moved her beneath him, where he touched his lips to her throat, feeling the throbbing of her pulse.
He felt her fingertips caressing his back, and then her hands slid along his sides to his hips as she raised her own to press closer. When she pulled his lips to hers, kissing him with an intensity that lit an internal fire that burned deep, he stopped thinking.
Slipping his hands under her hips, he lifted them and slowly—to the point of his own pain—entered her. She raised her hips higher, driving him deeper, and sighed.
Burying himself in her was like diving into a warm pool, the water swirling around all of him, and he groaned. She moved beneath him, setting the rhythm, and he followed. Their hands caressed each other, their lips met time and again, touching and tasting, as they delighted in each other.
He wanted these moments to last, but his stamina wasn’t what it once had been. Neither, he realized, was his control when he took her over the edge. Watching her face, feeling her around him, he couldn’t do anything but follow.
The reality of where they were returned too quickly, and he soon slipped out of the room to gather her things. When he returned, she’d wrapped a towel around herself and was sitting in the middle of the mats, her legs folded beneath her, her brows knit in what he suspected was worry.
“I think—”
“Don’t,” he said. “This wasn’t something to think about, it was something to experience.”
“But—”
He shook his head as he placed her clothes next to her. “Let it be. For now, anyway. Just don’t—”
“What?”
He wanted to tell her not to have any regrets. But he was afraid she might not understand if he did. Instead of answering, he shook his head again and slipped out of the room.
He’d gone too far, taken advantage of her, when he knew there couldn’t be a second time. He was leaving in a few weeks. He couldn’t allow himself to be involved with her. She’d only get hurt.
As he turned off the whirlpool and dressed, he attempted to put their lovemaking aside in his mind, but images of Paige kept creeping back to tease him into believing there might be more for them. He knew better. He’d always failed at relationships, from his family to friends to women. This time would be no different. If he was going to succeed at any relationship, it had to be the one with his son. Maybe someday, in the future, when things were different and he was—
He swallowed hard and shook his head. He was only fooling himself, and he vowed not to do the same to Paige. He just didn’t know how to tell her.
When she emerged from the equipment room, fully dressed and buttoned up, he instinctively moved toward her, but the smile she gave him wasn’t one of a woman who’d just experienced making love, and he stopped.
She didn’t look directly at him when she asked, “Is your knee all right?”
“My—?” He stared at her, stunned at her attitude, as if nothing had happened. At the same time, he knew it was best for him and apparently for her, too. Something in his chest felt heavy, but he ignored it and answered her question. “It’s fine.”
Nodding, she walked to the door, but hesitated when she reached it. She turned for a moment, as if she would say something, then opened the door and slipped outside.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, watching the closed door. Too long, he told himself when he realized he hadn’t moved. Turning, he noticed a pile of papers on a chair and picked them up. There was a note attached for the coach and signed by Paige. He left the papers in the office and looked around to make sure nothing else had been left behind, especially anything of Paige’s. After making sure the main door was locked, he got in hi
s SUV and headed back to the ranch, hoping to put the afternoon behind him. But doing that proved more difficult than he’d imagined. Just one more reason to get away from Desperation, he said to himself in the confines of his vehicle, refusing to acknowledge the sadness he felt.
PAIGE SAT IN HER CAR in her driveway, her forehead pressed to the steering wheel. Had she completely lost her mind?
Tears stung her eyes when she thought again about the afternoon with Tucker, and she sniffed them back. No matter how she really felt about it, she couldn’t ever admit to having enjoyed it. In fact, she couldn’t admit that it had ever even happened. He was her patient! What she had done was not only inappropriate, but also a breach of ethics.
She doubted Tucker was even aware that they’d stepped over the bounds into a very dangerous area. Not that she thought he would bring charges. After all, he was the one who’d—
The tap on her window brought a shriek from her and she sat up immediately to find Garrett motioning for her to roll down her window. Taking a deep breath, she did.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern.
“Just…I’m just tired,” she answered, grabbing her purse and reaching for the door handle. “We were really busy today.”
He stepped back as she pushed the door open. “Some days are,” he agreed and turned for the house.
She joined him and felt another concerned glance as they both stepped onto the porch. Still worried, she tried to cover it with a smile.
“I know you’re tired,” he commented after he’d opened the door and she’d walked inside, “but if that’s the best smile you have, you’re in trouble.”
“Funny.” Dropping her purse on the back of the sofa, she headed down the hall to the bathroom, where she planned to splash some cool water on her face. That or drown herself. She hadn’t decided.
“If you’re that tired,” he called down the hallway, “why don’t you take one of your two-hour bubble baths and go to bed?”
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