“I’m pretty damn sure he’s still married.”
Again she nodded. As far as Abby knew, his wife, Marley, had never been legally declared dead.
“Does he know that you love him?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Does he love you?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re going to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
Slowly, she nodded.
“Well,” Mick said, his arm sliding across her shoulder. “Guess it’s time you figured that shit out.”
Abby leaned into her brother, eyes on her best friend, Lisa. She was anxious, scared and trying like hell not to be too hopeful. It was hard. Tucker had asked her to think about moving in with him. He’d mentioned the word future, and that had pretty much bounced around her head for the past few days.
Heck, who was she kidding? It was all she could think about.
“But Abigail, if he breaks your heart I will hurt him.” Her brother wasn’t teasing and she knew him well enough to know that he would try.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Okay.
Chapter Twenty-one
The Simon family home in Gravenhurst, Ontario on the banks of Lake Muskoka was one of those places where Tucker always felt comfortable. God, but he loved it up here. There were no cameras. No paparazzi. No business meetings. No distractions. Nothing but the fresh air, the lake, and a house large enough to fit the entire Simon clan.
Although as he gazed down at the chaos in the kitchen, he wasn’t so sure it would survive all the add-ons.
The add-ons being, Betty Jo Barker. His sister Grace’s current romance du jour, some trendy hipster named Harry who refused to take his beanie off. Jack’s girlfriend, Monique. And well, the one add-on he couldn’t take his eyes off of, Abby.
His brother Teague was somewhere in South America—nobody knew where exactly—and Tucker’s hope of seeing his twin was long gone. The last time he’d talked to Teague had been the week before, but even that conversation had been short. Tucker hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about Abby.
And now it was Wednesday, closing in on nine o’clock and dark as sin outside. Not one star in the sky. He and Abby had arrived a few hours earlier. They’d met up with Grace and Harry at LaGuardia, flown to Toronto and then driven up north. The family had indulged in some beers and Chinese food, and while Beau and his father were busy getting the fireplace going, the girls were relaxing in the kitchen and Tucker had escaped upstairs for some quiet.
But he wasn’t alone.
Jack leaned over the second floor railing and gazed down at the kitchen as well. The great-big-ass-room, as they called it, was massive, open concept, with a full bank of windows that overlooked the lake. All of the bedrooms fed off an upper walkway that extended three quarters around. When Tucker was much smaller, he and his brothers would have epic spitball wars, shooting anyone who walked into the room.
God, those were the days.
Jack cleared his throat and shook his head. “How is it that you can pull the kind of stunt that you pulled at the fundraiser and still manage to convince that girl to come up here with you?”
Tucker grinned. “My charm?”
Jack stood up, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to gaze below. Dressed in a plain white T-shirt, old worn jeans, and sporting more than a couple days of growth on his chin, Tucker’s older brother looked about as far removed from Washington as one could get.
Tucker kinda missed that look on him.
“Christ, I don’t know what Monique would do if I pulled a stunt like that.”
Tucker’s eyes swung to Jack’s girlfriend. The woman was perched on the edge of a sofa, trying to look interested in what Betty, Abby, and his mother were discussing. But even from here, it looked as if the woman was bored as hell. Guess they weren’t discussing the color of paint on the walls or what would look better on the windows, some of that frilly see-through shit or California shutters.
“Why is Monique even here?” Tucker asked suddenly.
Jack’s head swiveled his way. “What do you mean? It’s Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah. Thanksgiving. A time you spend with your family. Those who matter.”
Jack’s eyebrows knitted together, and he unfolded his arms. “Say again?”
Tucker shrugged. “I just don’t get you two is all. Actually, I don’t get a lot of the women you’ve dated over the past five years. They’re nothing like—“
“Don’t say it,” Jack bit out.
“Donovan.”
Tucker studied his brother. Jack’s face was dangerously pissed off, and his hands were clenched at his sides. Huh.
Donovan James was an outrageous, sexy as hell singer with a bit of twang, a bit of rock and roll and a whole lot of attitude. She’d ridden that attitude all the way to the top of the charts in more countries than you could count on both hands, and graced as many trashy magazines or even more than their brother Beau. A few years back and more than a lifetime ago, she’d been the love of a very young Jack Simon’s life.
She was, in Tucker’s opinion, the one that got away.
“Don’t go there with me, Tuck,” Jack warned, sounding seriously pissed off.
Tucker shoved away from the railing and faced his brother. “Look, I don’t want to start something, but Jack, Monique isn’t the right girl for you. She’s nowhere near what you need, and if you don’t watch out, you’ll end up married and miserable. Just saying.”
“That’s pretty ballsy of you to be handing out relationship advice. From what I’ve heard, you’ve been banging a shit-ton of women in the city for the past year. And yeah, I know Mom’s all about you getting back out there, but I think you’re going about it all wrong. What’s Abby? Just another body in your bed while you try to decide whether or not you want to live a real life without Marley?”
“This has nothing to do with Marley.”
Tucker clamped his mouth. A muscle worked its way across his cheek as he studied his brother.
“Are you sure, Tucker? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like it has everything to do with Marley.”
Tucker glared at his brother. He glared at him for so long that his shoulder muscles stretched and tightened.
“She’s been gone for over three years, Tuck. It’s time.”
Shit. There it was.
He glanced back downstairs. Caught sight of Abby giggling next to Betty and his heart twisted. He could ignore the obvious and shrug his shoulders, or he could be honest and lay it all out there. He could say the words that had been knocking around inside his head for days.
“I asked her to move in with me,” he finally said. “I think I love her.”
“You think?” Jack asked roughly. “Jesus, that’s not good enough, Tucker. Not for someone like her. That girl down there wants the whole nine yards and I don’t know her real well, but she seems the type to deserve it.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He shot a dark look at his brother.
“Hey, you’re the one who started this bullshit. Not me. I’m just pointing out the obvious.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“That girl’s in love with you, and if you don’t feel the same way, you’ve got to cut her loose.”
Tucker didn’t know what to say. He’d been in love before. Hell, up until a month ago, he thought he’d be in love with Marley for as long as he was alive. Their love hadn’t been perfect, in fact a lot of the time it had been rough and volatile…but it had also been passionate—it had been young and fresh and exciting and…
It had been safe. Back then, their whole world had been safe. Until she took a ride on that plane.
“Fuck me,” he whispered, eyes still glued to Abby, more confused than ever. The memory of Marley was something that he didn’t think would let him go. How could it? It would always be unfinished. That last morning he’d shared with her would always be unfinished. How did he deal with that? With the t
hings he hadn’t done?
How did he make Abby fit into all of that without hurting her in the end?
And so he stood next to his brother, looking down until Abby turned her sweet face up to him. She wiped at that long piece of hair that always tickled her nose and she smiled at him until Betty said something that made her giggle and turn away.
“I don’t know if what I have to give is enough for Abby.”
Jack put his hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “Brother, you need to find out. But a word of advice—”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t use think and love in the same sentence when talking to a woman. Not if you want to keep all your manly parts intact.”
Tucker’s gaze was on Abby again. “Good to know,” he murmured.
***
>A few hours later, Tucker thought about his brother’s words as he and Abby made their way outside to the bunky, which was a small bunkhouse the boys used to sleep in when they were younger. Located about twenty feet from the main house and nestled among a bunch of Fir trees, it was big enough for a double bed, a TV, a small bathroom and not much else.
But it was private and Tucker had some things on his mind. Things that needed to be taken care of.
The place was warm—his father had made sure the heat was turned on and the small lamp near the bed cast a soft glow.
He shut the door behind him and pulled Abby into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head, listening to her breathing, feeling her heart beating. Slowly her arms made their way up to his shoulders, and she leaned back, eyes shimmery in the low lights.
For several moments, the two of them stared at each other, Tucker not letting go and Abby looking up at him with a shuttered expression.
Finally, she exhaled. “You’re scaring me.”
God, that’s not what he wanted. “I don’t mean to.”
“What’s going on, Tucker?” She wiggled her hips and stepped out of his embrace, shivering. After folding her arms across her chest, she met his gaze, her toes digging into the pine floors.
“We need to talk,” he began and stopped. How the fuck was he going express the feelings inside him? What words could even come close to describing what he was trying to say?
“Okay,” her voice trembled a bit. “What about?”
“Us.”
She made a weird noise and shook her head. “I get it. Being here with your family made you realize a few things.”
“Yeah, it did.”
She licked that bottom lip which was usually his trigger for all sorts of hot and sexy things. Already his mind was going south, but before he actually followed through on it and went south, he needed to be clear about things.
“So, this is it then?” She thrust her chin out. “We’re done? You’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t fit the Simon mold? Well, I gotta say Tucker, not everyone can be like a…a Monique Patterson or a…” She stumbled over her words, glanced away and whispered. “A…a Marley.”
“You’re right about that.”
She whipped her head around. “I’m right about what?”
“You’re nothing like Monique Patterson, thank God and,” he paused because this was important. “You’re nothing like Marley.”
“So what exactly are you saying?”
He took a step toward her.
“I’m saying that I want you to move in with me.”
He took another step. “I’m saying that I want to wake up with you next to me every single fucking morning. I’m saying that I want you. I want you in my life and I don’t want anymore of this ‘let’s see where it goes’ bullshit, because I’ve got to tell you, Abigail. We’re already there.”
“We are,” she repeated softly.
“We’ve been there for a while, and I think that I’m just now getting it. But…”
“But?”
“I’ve got some shit to sort out. Hell, Marley hasn’t even been declared legally dead yet, and it might take a while for me to deal with some of it, so if you can’t wait…or you need to think about it.” He blew out a hot breath not really sure what else to say. “I’ll understand but you have to know I’m not giving up, and if you need a break, I get it. But you also need to know that as soon as I get this stuff squared away, I’m coming for you. When I think ahead, when I think of tomorrow or next week, I see you. When I think of next Thanksgiving, it’s you I see, Abby. No one else.”
He watched a play of emotion run across her face like the tide rolling in from the ocean. He knew what she wanted to hear and Christ, but he wanted to say it…those three little words that were game changers. But there was still a part of him that felt as if he couldn’t go there until everything else was dealt with.
He needed to deal with Marley’s death. Only then could he move on with his heart 100% free. He just hoped like hell Abby would be there for him when he was done.
Abby’s bottom lip trembledm and he couldn’t help himself. He traced her generous mouth with his forefinger and swept his lips across hers.
“I’m not going anywhere, Tucker.” Her voice was so soft that at first he wasn’t sure she’d spoken.
He rested his forehead against hers, some of his tension gone. “Okay.”
“So,” she said, voice husky and full of all kinds of sex and smoke. “What exactly are you going to do with me now that you have me out here in your little bunky?”
He kissed the corner of her mouth, so relieved that it felt as if a hundred pounds had just been lifted off his shoulders.
“Well, Miss Mathews. I’m going to get you naked and wet. I’m going to lay you down on that bed and I’m going to spread your legs and then I’m going to fuck you hard and fast.”
Her chest rose and fell. His girl liked the dirty talk.
“And then I’m going to taste every inch of you, with my mouth…my tongue, my fingers.”
She made that noise that she did—the one that told him she was already close. He smiled, licked her, and stole another kiss.
“And then we’re going to go nice and slow. I’m going to worship you, Abby. Your mouth. Your breasts. That delicious ass of yours.” His voice was ragged now. “I’m going to kiss you between your legs until I make you come. And then I’m going to start all over again.”
She reached for the top button of her blouse. “So worship, Mr. Simon, because I’m halfway to horny and you kind of had me at hot and wet.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Abby woke just as dawn was breaking. The air was cool on her nose and outside the wind howled, but here, under the covers with Tucker, she was warm.
She was warm and content and so in love that there was no turning back now. If that had even been a consideration before, it was long gone. Especially after the night they’d just shared. She and Tucker had connected on a level she’d never thought possible.
She knew he loved her. He might not have said the words, but she knew. It was in the way he touched her—as if she was a breakable. In the way his eyes watched her while his mouth was on her. The way he held her face and kissed her with a tenderness that had brought tears to her eyes. It was in the way he held her and caressed her temple.
They’d talked with their hands, their bodies and with their eyes. The words weren’t said, but they were there. Just beneath the surface. Waiting for the right moment.
And Abby was willing to wait. For Tucker, she would do that.
Gingerly turning over so that she faced him, her heart swelled watching him sleep. God, he looked so young. So incredibly young and alive. She grinned. And sexy.
He’d let his hair grow out over the last month so it curled over his ears, teased his neck, and long waves swept over his forehead. Gently she pushed them back, her fingers tracing his sculpted cheeks, strong jaw, until they rested on his lips.
Man she loved his lips.
Reaching forward she swept a kiss across them and then held her breath when she felt him move.
His hands snaked around her waist, and he snuggled into her nec
k. “Hey,” Tucker murmured, his whiskers making her shiver as they scraped across her skin.
“Good morning,” she managed to say. His hands moved downward and cupped her butt intimately against him.
“This is nice,” he said, mouth against her neck.
“Really nice,” she answered, squirming a bit because the desire, it was already burning hot.
But Tucker didn’t. He stayed there, nose buried in her neck, hands holding her close to him. They laid together like that for a long time, each breathing the other in until dawn became full blown morning.
Eventually, Tucker moved a bit and rested his elbow on the pillow so he could prop his head, his eyes unreadable, but intense.
“Are you all right?” Abby asked, carefully, her body suddenly tense. It never ceased to amaze her how emotions ebbed and flowed, rushing and then disappearing. What was going on behind those eyes?
“I’m better than all right,” he answered, a slow grin creeping over his face, making her insides melt all over again.
“You’re amazing. Do you know that?” Tucker said softly.
Abby shrugged. “I’ve been told once or twice.”
He laughed—outright chuckled—and the sound made her feel as if she could fly. When it fell away to nothing, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him.
“Last night was…” he said. There was that wicked grin again.
“Yeah.” She blushed at the thought of some of the things she’d done to him. With him. For him.
“So this is really happening. Us,” Tucker said quietly.
For a second Abby couldn’t speak. So she nodded and closed her eyes, hoping the tears that pricked the corner of her eyes weren’t visible. But one slipped down, and she felt his touch as he slowly wiped it away.
“Abby.”
“I’m fine,” she managed. She was more than fine. She was more than everything that she thought being with Tucker would be.
“Tell me about Marley.”
Oh. God.
Abby’s eyes flew open and Tucker’s hand froze. Where the hell had that come from?
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