Tucker watched her suspiciously. Something was up.
“You look beautiful, Mom,” Tucker murmured, squeezing her hand as she stepped back.
And she did. Her hair, the color of burnished sable, glistened beneath the lights, brushing her shoulders. She wore a pale yellow dress, classy in style with a fitted bodice and a skirt that fell just above her knew. It was set off with a strand of pearls that he knew his father had given her on their wedding day, the matching earrings finishing the ensemble.
Eden accepted a glass of wine from her husband and took a sip, her look direct as she gazed up at her son.
Tucker knew something was coming at him and he had a feeling it was—
“So I just met the loveliest girl. Abby Mathews.”
Shit.
Tucker glanced at Beau, but his brother shrugged which basically meant he was on his own.
“Is she the reason you’ve been,” his mother’s eyebrow shot up, “so busy?”
Christ. Here we go.
“Mom,” Tucker began, but he was cutoff by a low whistle.
“Who the hell is that?” Cooper asked as they all gazed across the room.
“Cooper, language,” Eden murmured.
Betty Jo was grabbing two champagne glasses from a waiter, and sure, she looked amazing as ever, but it was the woman beside her who had Tucker’s attention. And he was pretty damn sure she had everyone else’s too.
Abby.
She looked unbelievable and not at all like the Abby he was used to. This Abby looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of some society magazine.
Dramatic makeup. Hair styled so that it fell over one shoulder in rippling waves of dark chestnut. Mouth glossy and full. Dressed in a strapless blood red cocktail dress that hugged her figure in a way that was meant to garner attention, Tucker snuck a look at his cousins. Rick was smiling at her and Cooper’s gaze was locked onto Abby as if she was a piece of candy he wanted to lick.
Tucker took a step forward. No way in hell was Cooper getting close to Abby. If anyone was going to lick her, it was gonna be him.
“Who the…who is that woman?” Cooper asked again.
Tucker threw his cousin a warning look which only made Cooper’s smile widen.
“Why that’s Tucker’s new friend, Abby,” his mother replied in her slow southern drawl. “And she’s such a delight. Smart as a whip, funny as all get out and she can hold her own with Betty, which—” she glanced at Beau and winked—“isn’t the easiest thing to do.”
Beau snorted. “You got that right.”
“I like a woman with a sense of humor,” his mother said softly.
“Really,” Cooper replied. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
Something hot and dangerous pulsed inside Tucker, and for a second, he visualized his fist connecting with Cooper’s perfect fucking nose.
He didn’t act on it, and he sure as hell didn’t pay any attention to it.
What he did do was set his empty beer bottle on the bar and, with a curt nod toward his mother, headed for the lady in red.
Chapter Eight
“Here’s some champagne. It will help loosen you up.”
Abby accepted the glass from Betty Jo, her palms sweaty and her fingers wooden. It was a miracle she didn’t drop the slender flute, and for a few seconds she concentrated hard so that she wouldn’t.
Nervous didn’t come close to describing what was going on inside her stomach. Heck, it was like a convention of butterflies had gone bat-shit crazy. How the hell had she let Betty Jo talk her into wearing this dress? This makeup?
She glanced lower. These shoes?
They had come-fuck-me written all over them and with the slit nearly up to her hip they were there for everyone to see. That’s if anyone’s eyes made it past the top of her dress which, at the moment, barely supported her breasts. And she didn’t want to think about how low the back was. In fact she’d asked Betty Jo twice if her butt crack wasn’t peeking out of the top of the gown.
Never in her life had she worn a dress that didn’t allow for a bra or underwear. Never. But thanks to Betty Jo Barker, Abby was going commando. And thanks to the hotel spa, she was smooth in places she’d never been smooth before.
Holy. Hell.
Back in Betty’s room when she’d glanced in the mirror, she hadn’t recognized herself. Not that she wasn’t impressed with the results. She knew she looked good. Really good. Like she could walk a red carpet beside Betty Jo and maybe hold her own.
That was pretty damn good.
But looking sexy and fitting into that skin were two different things. She just didn’t know if she could carry off the look. Didn’t know if she could walk the walk.
Abby had always been a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl. Even back in New York, she wasn’t much for the night clubs unless they included a rock band or the blues. Hence, the T-shirt and jeans…maybe the occasional skirt—but never anything like this.
Oh God. And she always wore underwear. Sheesh, if her mother knew the state of what was going on between her legs, she’d have a freaking coronary.
You never know if you’ll be in an accident Abigail. Always wear undies. Clean undies.
“You look hot,” Betty said with a grin. “Like if I was bent that way, I’d totally do you.”
Abby managed a smile and took a sip of champagne. She’d thought they’d be overdressed, but Betty had assured her that the Simons didn’t do dinner in a fancy restaurant unless they were dressed to the nines. Judging by the jewels, suits and gowns, Abby had seen as they entered the room, Betty was right.
Not that it made Abby feel any better, but still…
Betty leaned in. “Tucker looks more than a little hot under the collar.”
Even though she hadn’t looked out at the sea of Simons and extended family, Abby knew exactly where Tucker was. She could feel the touch of him, as if he was next to her. That’s how hot her Tucker Simon radar was.
That’s how much trouble she was in.
She gulped some more champagne and kept her eyes glued to Betty, who looked real pleased with herself.
“You’ve already won Eden over, and she’s a hard nut to crack let me tell you.” Betty smiled at someone, a quick sort of thing before she continued. “God, it took me at least six months to get on her good side, and it finally took a home cooked meal which I took credit for but my sister Bobbi prepared.” Betty’s eyes flashed with mischief. “I also promised to cook Beau at least one home-cooked meal a week and I gave her a piece of artwork from my soon to be brother-in-law, Shane Gallagher.”
That name rang a bell.
“Shane Gallagher, the hot guy artist with the tattoos and bad reputation is engaged to your sister?”
Abby remembered Tucker talking about him after a showing of his art at a gallery not far from her family’s pub. Tucker had come in with a blonde on his arm and the blonde had spent most of the evening with a bored look on her face while Tucker had shown Abby pictures of Shane’s work.
“That’s the one,” Betty nodded.
“He’s very talented.” This was good. Abby could carry on a conversation without tripping over her words.
“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Betty said softly. “Tucker looks like he wants to strangle his cousin Cooper, and Cooper looks as if he wants to eat you.” Betty giggled. “This is gonna be epic.”
Abby’s stomach flipped and she nearly dropped her champagne glass. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yeah, you can,” Betty answered. “Cooper is notorious for wanting something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“But I don’t belong—”
“Cut the crap, Abby.”
Abby’s eyes widened as Betty turned to her and suddenly the flirtatious party girl was gone, replaced with a direct no bullshit version. “I see the way you look at Tucker, and I can feel the sexual tension between the two of you. Even this morning when you were pissed at him. Even then .”
Abby was silent, her
heart nearly beating out of her chest. Was she that transparent? Did everyone know?
“Jesus, out on that golf course my panties were on fire every time I got near you two, so don’t tell me your cock-and-bull story that making a play for Cooper is only because you want to protect Tucker. To keep Eden and Noah off his back. I’m not buying that. You want to make him jealous as hell.”
Betty leaned in, her mouth close to Abby’s ear. “And I gotta say sweetie, it’s working.”
“Abby.”
Tucker’s voice never failed to make her knees weak. It had a roughness to it, like aged whisky over smooth ice.
She turned toward him and held a soft smile in place while the butterflies in her stomach took off and whooshed around like they were tumbling inside a washing machine. Abby knew that if she didn’t get hold of her shit, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
In fact it might get downright pathetic.
“Tucker,” Betty said stepping forward and giving him a peck on the cheek. “You’re looking all dark and dangerous. Something got you worked up?”
“No,” he replied, voice dangerously low, eyes on Abby.
“I don’t believe you,” Betty said dryly.
“I don’t care,” he replied, eyes still on Abby.
“Whatever, hon,” Betty answered lightly. “I’ll see you both in a bit. I need to find my man.”
A shiver rolled over Abby and even though she was wearing heels—come-fuck-me-heels at that—she had to tip her head a bit in order to meet his gaze.
Seconds passed—or they could have been minutes for all Abby knew—but his dark chocolate eyes never left her and that feeling of nervous tension in her gut expanded. Considering that there was no give in her dress, that was saying something.
“You look real good in red,” Tucker said, stepping so close that the heat of him washed over her, rolling across Abby like a sea of fire.
“Thanks,” she managed without sounding like an idiot.
Again she shivered, but it wasn’t from the—
“Cold?” he asked.
“No, I’m…”
God, I’m hot as hell.
“The air conditioning takes a bit to get used to,” she managed to say, hoping she didn’t sound like a complete idiot.
Moistening her lips, she lowered her lashes.
God, he looked good and he smelled even better.
Tucker’s dark hair waved a bit from the humidity, his eyes glittered, and his skin was already kissed from just one afternoon in the sun. Sure it helped that his complexion was already dark, but still.
Not fair.
He’d shaved for dinner and while most of the men present were wearing suits, he’d opted for just a tie—which was loosened—and his crisp white shirt was rolled up to his elbows. Dark navy slacks hugged his hips and he didn’t have to turn around for her to know his ass looked amazing, too.
Tucker had a casual air about him, but it did nothing to hide the dangerous glint of something that rolled just beneath the surface. Something that was meaty and hot and…
She cleared her throat and inhaled a shaky breath before daring to look up again.
Wrong thing to do because the man literally took her breath away, and right now that was very inconvenient. How the hell was she supposed to act all nonchalant if she couldn’t effing breathe?
“Did you wear this dress for Cooper?” He leaned closer—so close she could count every single one of his thick lashes. So close that his scent—that sexy as hell Tucker Simon scent—settled inside her nostrils.
Inside Abby.
“Or did you wear it for me?”
Mouth dry, Abby licked her lips and took a few seconds to calm her nerves.
One.
Two.
Three.
“I wore it for myself, if you want to know the truth.”
“Huh.” A slow, devastating smile spread across Tucker’s face as he regarded her for a few moments in silence. “It was a good choice.”
He paused, something flickering in the depths of his eyes—and it made Abby think that she was toying with something dangerous and hazardous to her health.
“You look beautiful.”
God, she wasn’t used to this—not with Tucker—and after another second passed, Abby finally got her shit together.
“Thanks,” she said lightly. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Now, are you going to introduce me to the rest of your family, or are we going to stand here while they whisper about us behind the backs of their hands?”
Tucker moved so that he was beside her and settled his palm on her lower back. Tingles and shooting rockets burst inside Abby as his fingers grazed her naked skin, and she hoped like hell he didn’t hear the sharp intake of air through her teeth, because she sounded like a goddamn whistle.
“Shit, Abby. You do know that your dress barely covers your—“
“Yeah, I do.”
A heartbeat passed.
And then Tucker leaned down, his breath warm against her cheek. “You’re a liar, darlin’.”
She turned slightly and only then realized that her mouth was a whisper away from Tucker’s.
“What do you mean?”
His dark eyes were intense. They traveled from her mouth, down to her breasts and then back up again.
“You didn’t wear this dress for your own pleasure. You wore this dress because you knew it would drive me fucking crazy. Cooper isn’t going to leave you alone.”
Eventually she found her voice and spoke lightly, as if this was a game, and not something that had her heart in her throat. “Is it working?”
Tucker’s fingers splayed across her back, resting just above the swell of her butt, his heat searing her skin.
“Guess we’re gonna find out.”
With that he prodded her forward, but his hand never left her body.
Chapter Nine
By eleven o’clock, Tucker wasn’t sure he was going to be able to get through the rest of the night without either A) punching his cousin Cooper in the throat or B) finding some dark corner and kissing Abby until he couldn’t breathe.
So what exactly did that say about him?
Abby Mathews was his friend, goddammit. Friend. Pal. Confidant. As in the girl who was off limits—at least where the sex part came into play—but right now the sex part was pretty much all Tucker was focused on.
All he could think about was Abby Mathews. Her mouth. Her smile. Her eyes. Her breasts. The way she smelled—light and fresh with a hint of something exotic—and the way she laughed so easily you just knew it wasn’t forced.
Then there was that fine butt barely covered by a dress made for sinning.
The carnal thoughts going through his head were X-rated, and even though he tried to keep his eyes off of her, he couldn’t. He felt like a goddamn teenager all over again, one who wanted to mark territory that he had no business marking.
He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable, and not because his leg was cramped or anything. He was horny as fuck and the evidence between his legs wasn’t something he wanted his mother to catch sight of. Not when he’d just spent the last few hours trying to convince her that she’d read everything wrong.
He’d assured his parents that he and Abby were just friends. More than once because his mother has asked more than once. Hell, even Abby had smiled sweetly and said the same thing, but his mother had just shook her head as if she knew a secret they didn’t and smiled at them.
Even then , his mother had still questioned him about the status of their relationship, asking him if he was going to bring her out to White Haven, the family home up the coast, or maybe up to the cottage in Canada. She made a point to let him know the place was empty for the next few months.
Tucker had stayed pretty close to Abby throughout the evening, and she still managed to flirt outrageously with Cooper—which was why he wanted to punch his cousin in the throat—as well as Maverick. Shit, you’d think the two of them had never seen a beautiful woman before. They
were like bees flitting around a pot of honey, and it was driving Tucker fucking crazy.
He had no business getting crazy or anything else for that matter, and yet he was getting tired of fighting the questions. Tired of lusting after a woman he knew he was no good for. But hell, he was only human.
He wanted her. plain and simple, and if he was reading the signals right, she wanted him to—and that was a problem. Contrary to whatever the hell notion was going on inside his mother’s head, he and Abby were friends. Shit, if Tucker was gonna be real honest with himself, he’d venture to say that over the last six months or so, she’d become his closest friend.
She knew things about him he hadn’t shared with anyone. Things about Marley and the life that never happened. Things he hadn’t even shared with his twin Teague or brother Beau.
There were some things that were still unsaid, some things he didn’t feel right sharing with anyone, but for the most part Abby knew everything.
He knew his head was still screwed up over his wife, so how could he entertain the thought of some sort of relationship when there were so many loose ends in his life? He couldn’t go there with a woman like Abby, because a woman like Abby deserved more than sex, and aside from friendship, that was pretty much all he had to offer.
With a groan Tucker shifted again, his eyes on Abby as she laughed at something Rick said. Cooper was nowhere in sight so that was something, but Rick and Abby were near the patio that looked out over the water. A slight breeze had built, teasing the air with her hair, and he watched the elegant lift of her hand as she tucked a piece behind her ear.
She rocked jeans and T-shirts—there was no doubt about that—but something about this ultra feminine and sexy side of her was appealing. More than appealing.
“Shit,” he muttered, running his hands over the top of his head. He thought of his brother Teague and wished that he was here. At least then he’d have someone to bitch to who would understand. Beau was too wrapped up in Betty Jo, and he’d hardly seen his older brother Jack. A rising star in the Democratic party, Jack Simon was in demand, and it seemed everyone wanted a piece of him, even at a family function.
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