False Hope (McKay-Tucker Men Book 2)

by Marianne Rice

  False Hope

  McKay-Tucker Men, Book 2

  Marianne Rice

  First Published in 2015; New Cover Design in 2017

  Copyright © Published 2015, Marianne Rice. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To Jami, my wonderful sister-in-law. Thank you for always being there for me whenever I need to vent, get away, test out a new recipe, or have a drink. Here’s to Pinnacle vodka, Pinterest appetizers and Girl’s Night Out.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to acknowledge my beautiful daughter, who was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes at seven years old, and every other child and adult living with diabetes. People have no concept of what you live with and have to think about every second of the day. You’re all strong and inspiring. Don’t be afraid to tell the world you are a diabetic. It’s not a flaw; it’s a strength. Diabetes doesn’t rule your life, you rule it!

  Table of Contents

  False Hope

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  About Marianne Rice

  Chapter 1

  “Higher. Oh, God, right there. Yes! Oh, harder. Faster!” Emma Fulton closed her eyes and trembled beneath his warm, calloused hands. His long, strong legs straddled her, pinning her into the couch. She felt him easing from her and yelled, “Don’t you dare stop, Cole Tucker! You’ve got the spot…right…there…oh…my…” She arched under him, moaned, and let out a long sigh before going limp. “Oh, that felt so damned good.”

  “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

  “Better.”

  The weight of his body quickly left her, and she heard him growl, “Damn. My balls are cold.”

  Rolling over onto her back, Emma sat up on the couch and scowled. “You’re such a pig.”

  “What?” Cole grinned and winked. “My meatball sub was nice and toasty warm before you asked me to scratch your itch.” He winked at his innuendo.

  “Well, so-rry.” Emma smacked his shoulder. “I can’t reach that far.” She stretched her arm over her head trying to get to the magic spot beneath her shoulder blade where the damn mosquito bit her last night and drained her of nearly a quart of blood.

  “Poptart, you keep making noises like that and the neighbors are gonna start pounding down your door.”

  “You are my neighbor, wiseass.”

  “Yeah.” Cole kissed her forehead. “Lucky me.”

  Emma tied her long, brown hair up with an elastic band and glanced up at the clock.

  “I told my mom we’d be at her place at two. It’s quarter past, and you’re eating a sub. I’ll never understand men.” She snorted in disgust and walked into her kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out the bowl of pasta salad she made for the family barbecue.

  Cole licked sauce from his fingers and wiped them on his khaki shorts, earning a scowl from Emma.

  “It’s an appetizer. We menfolk need lots of protein to help us keep up with our…extra-curricular activities.” He tugged on her ponytail and grabbed the bowl of pasta salad from her.

  “You’re a cocky little boy. Now let’s go,” she teased, tossing a checkered pillow at him.

  “Boy? Want me to show you how much of a man I am?”

  “No thanks!” She laughed and grabbed her purse. “You’re driving. It’s my turn to get liquored up.”

  Cole followed her out the door and to his truck. “Does this mean I get to take advantage of you tonight?”

  She snorted. “I’m not planning on getting that drunk.”

  * * * *

  The small country roads of Newhall, New Hampshire, were nearly desolate. It wasn’t a town that attracted summer tourists, leaf peepers, or winter skiers. Most bypassed the uneven, pothole-ridden roads on their drive to the White Mountains, which the townsfolk appreciated. It wouldn’t have appealed to Emma as a teenager, but leaving Boston at twenty-two and moving to the small town six years ago with her mother had been the best thing for her family. Not that she had much of a family before her mother married Cole’s older half-brother, Connor McKay.

  Connor loved Meg more than life itself, and soon after he married Emma’s mom, they became pregnant with twins. Emma loved her little brother and sister more than life itself. Between them, Connor, and his extended family, Emma and Meg had never been happier. Since blending their families, Cole had become one of her best friends. He and Emma were the most alike. They lived adjacently to each other in one of the duplexes the Tuckers owned and had the same interests. Sports, socializing, the outdoors, and a good night out. Mason, though, was another story. He may have been Cole’s identical twin, but outside of physical appearance, all similarities ended there.

  Mason was aloof, serious, and anything but social. In the handful of years Emma had been part of the McKay-Tucker clan, she had yet to figure him out.

  Cole pulled up to her mother and Connor’s waterfront home where her two most favorite people in the world greeted them. Hannah’s blonde pigtails swung back and forth as her little legs pumped hard to beat her twin brother, Tucker, to the truck.

  “Sissy!” Her smile grew as she leaped into Emma’s arms.

  “Hey, princess. I missed you! Why, I think you’ve grown since I saw you last week!” Emma kissed Hannah’s nose, shifted the little body in her arms, and then whispered in her ear. “Are you wearing big girl undies?”

  “Yeah, just like you. Wanna see?” Hannah squirmed out of Emma’s arms and lifted her pink sundress, revealing Cinderella underwear. “They’re princess undies. Do you have princess undies?”

  “Yeah, Sissy, show us your undies,” Cole teased behind her.

  Ignoring him, Emma whispered in Hannah’s ear. “I’m very proud of you, princess. You let me know if you have to go pee on the potty. Okay?”

  Cole scooped up Hannah and put her on his shoulders.

  “She peed on the floor this morning and Daddy stepped in it,” Tucker said. “It was disgusting.” He was only four, but he tried really hard to act like one of “the boys.” Granted “the boys” worked pretty hard at acting like they were four.

  Cole looked up at his little niece perched high on his shoulders. “Don’t pee on Uncle Cole, okay, princess?”

  Emma hid her smile and kneeled in front of her little brother. “Well, Mister Man, I recall not long ago when a certain young, dark-haired, blue-eyed, little-big brother had a few accidents of his own.” Tucker loved being the big brother, even if it was by a mere three minutes, and tried to act like he didn’t like being Emma’s little brother. “You helping Dad with the grill tonight?”

  “Yup. He said we can make s’mores later too.”

  “Cool.” She reached for his hand and walked around the house to the lake in the back where the fun had already started.

  “Sissy and Uncole are here!” Hannah shouted from her perch. Her blending of Uncle and Cole would never grow tiresome.
Of course the grown-ups twisted Hannah’s endearment to Uncool.

  Cole sauntered up to Meg with one of his typical pickup lines. “Your beauty makes the morning sun look like the dull glimmer of the moon.” He hugged Emma’s mom and kissed her cheek.

  Emma rolled her eyes. Meg, Emma’s mother—although many would say she resembled an older sister—smiled.

  “Hi, kids.” She took the bowl from Emma and gave her a warm, one-armed hug. “We’ve got chowder, every salad under the sun, and lots of sweets. The boys only eat meat, chips, and beer at these gatherings, so the rest is up to us. Hope you’re hungry.”

  “Starved. What can I do to help? Is Paige here yet?” Paige and Emma had become instant best friends when Emma and her mom first moved to Newhall. Ironically, the first friend Meg had made was Annie, Paige’s mom and Connor’s sister. Rick, Annie’s husband, was a quiet psychiatrist who never psychoanalyzed but was always there when someone needed a confidant.

  “She, Annie, and Rick are riding over in the boat. Connor went fishing with Mason and their dad, but they should be back soon. Feel like going for a swim? The kids have been asking to go.”

  “Sure. I just need to go in and change.”

  The women walked into the house while Cole popped open a beer and played with his little nephew and niece. The house was always welcoming, a little different from back in the day when Connor lived in it as a bachelor. Landmines of Legos, Barbies, and trucks littered corners of the house. Artwork covered the stainless steel fridge and feminine touches like candles, curtains, and primitive framed prints softened the massive house and made it feel like a loving home.

  Emma envied her mother, not the first thirty-six years of her mother’s life, but every moment after. Since Meg met Connor, her life changed into a fairytale. An amazing father, a popular teacher, a kickass coach, and the most devoted, loyal husband any woman could dream of. Finding true love had never been on Emma’s to-do list. She didn’t think it would even make her bucket list either.

  She’d had her share of relationships, never without a date or a list of eligible candidates, but no one ever made her think about happily ever after. And at twenty-eight, she was too young to be thinking about forever. It was her time to play the field, sow her wild oats, something her mother never got the chance to do. In another five or six years, she’d start thinking about the white dress and the trip down the aisle. Maybe. For now it was all fun and games, exactly how she liked it.

  “I have some bathing suits Tracy sent me I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.” Meg laughed at Emma’s scowl and redirected. “Because I don’t have the body I once had before those twins stretched me like a hot air balloon. I’m too old to be flitting around in bikinis.” Meg dug out a bag from the back of her closet and pulled out a few bathing suits, tags still attached.

  “I’m sure Connor would disagree,” Emma teased. “Oh, these are cute. I’ll take the green halter top one.” She went into the master bath to change.

  Tracy had been her mother’s best friend since they met in college. Tracy, being gay, and Meg, a very young sixteen-year-old college freshman with a baby, made them the perfect odd couple. He had majored in fashion design and obtained a job as a stylist in New York City while Meg had majored in science education and parenting 101. The two had been best friends ever since. Uncle Tracy somehow managed to fit in and befriend the McKay-Tucker testosterone-filled family.

  The side benefit of the relationship was a closet chocked full of designer duds both Meg and Emma barely wore. When Emma was in high school, she’d loved the new clothes Tracy sent. But they didn’t serve much purpose in college or in her current job as a physical therapist. Her mother wore the business suits but didn’t have much need for the cocktail dresses and evening gowns. And Emma’s fashion sense leaned more toward athletic shorts and a pair of Nikes.

  “So, Em, are you and Cole getting along okay? I mean, living next door to each other?”

  “Yeah, it’s been a lot of fun. Granted I’ve only been living there for two months.” Emma emerged from the bathroom in the new Dolce & Gabbana suit. Her mother dressed in a slimming, black one-piece and wraparound skirt.

  “And are you two…”

  “Friends, Mom. He’s like a brother to me.” No one could deny how incredibly hot and suave Cole Tucker was. His magnetic charm was what made them best friends. But they’d never had any serious sexual chemistry.

  “I know, but you dated before, and I thought…well, since you’re practically in the same house…”

  “Mom, we almost hooked up for like two seconds. We never dated.” She put air quotes around the word. “And we’re not roommates. It’s a duplex. We’re cool.”

  “Uh, huh,” she said skeptically.

  “Whatever, come on, let’s take the kids for a swim.”

  They changed Hannah and Tucker into their swimsuits and waded out into the lake. The cool water felt refreshing with the July sun beating down on her shoulders. Hannah clung to Emma’s legs, not wanting to risk falling down in the water while Tucker tested out his water wings. There was so much splashing and laughing they hardly heard the canoe dock beside them.

  “There are my favorite grandkids,” George Tucker called, barely waiting for Connor and Mason to tie up the boat before climbing out.

  “Bumpa!” they yelled and splashed.

  Hannah attached herself like a barnacle to Emma. “Carry me to Grampy, Emma!”

  “Hey, Bumpa, catch anything?” Emma asked.

  “A couple of grandkids.” He chuckled as Tucker climbed up his grandfather’s body. “Found another kid and grandkid out on the lake.” He winked. Paige and her parents pulled up in their fishing boat and docked behind him.

  “Hey, you.” Paige hopped out of the boat and jumped into the water to hug Emma. “I haven’t seen you lately.”

  “Sorry. Busy with the new job, moving in, and all. How’s summer vacation so far?”

  “Awesome.” Paige kissed Hannah on the head. “I get to see my cousins and hopefully my best friend. One of the perks of teaching—summers off.”

  “Yeah, well, I still can’t believe you came back here to teach with your mom and Connor and all your old teachers. It’s just too weird. But I’m thrilled to have you back home.” Emma set Hannah down in the water. After graduating from the University of New Hampshire, Paige had wanted to explore a little and took a job teaching abroad in Japan. But she missed her friends and family and returned to Newhall a few weeks ago, landing a teaching job in her former elementary school.

  “It’s been sort of weird this past week, setting up my classroom and talking with Mrs. Bertrand. Who, by the way, has to be at least eighty. She was old when I had her in second grade. Besides, it’s not like I’m at the high school. First grade is a far cry from the good ol’ days at NHS. So…” Paige looked over her shoulder at Mason and then up on the lawn at Cole. “How do you liking living with Cole? You guys hook up yet?”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Geesh, will everyone get over it already? We’re not living together, and we’re just friends.”

  “Friends that—”

  “Don’t you dare say it Paige Thorne,” she growled.

  “Okay, okay, calm down.” Paige laughed. “I can see it’s a touchy subject.”

  Emma trudged out of the water to their towels. She dried off her sister and wrapped her in a giant princess towel. “Want Sissy to get you dressed, princess, or do you want to stay in your bathing suit?”

  “I want to swim with Uncle Mason.”

  “Oh,” Emma said, surprised. He stood on the dock by the boat putting the fishing poles away. She scooped up the princess cocoon and went to him.

  “Hi, Mason.”

  He eyed her abruptly, up, then down, and then back up again. She wasn’t sure if he was checking her out or if he was simply nervous. “Hi…Emma. Hey, Hannah Banana.” A weak smile appeared on his lips for his niece.

  “I wanna swim wif you,” Hannah said, reaching out her arms to him.

/>   “Oh, okay.” Mason took her awkwardly in his arms and unwrapped the towel dropping it on the dock. He stripped out of his shirt and shoes and carried his niece to the water, ignoring Emma. “Want to walk on my feet again?”

  Emma couldn’t help it if her eyes bugged out and latched on to his pecks. Where has he been hiding those? As he waded in deeper, his trunks soaked up the lake water and molded beautifully to his perfect backside.

  Emma wasn’t sure what to make of the image. She never really connected with Mason during their family gatherings. But her eyes sure as heck connected now. Shortly after she moved to Newhall, he had left to go to grad school and then lived in New York City. He came home for holiday events, but never struck up conversations with Emma. Instead, he avoided her.

  Where Cole was an extrovert in every way possible, Mason was the exact opposite—an introvert to the extreme. Or at least toward her. A computer genius with a prestigious job as a computer hacker, a legal one, companies from all over New England called for Mason’s services, or so she heard. Computers were not her forte. That six-pack and sexy v-thing had to mean serious gym time or a crazy-ass sports addiction. The burst of desire in her belly confused and delighted her.

  Mason and Cole were identical twins. They had the same short, black hair, dark chocolate eyes, and Matt Damon dimples. Cole’s physique mirrored his brother’s, so why did the quiet one turn her head?

  Rolling her tongue back in her mouth, Emma turned and went inside, suddenly feeling very exposed.

  After changing back into her jean shorts and pink spaghetti strap tank, she combed out her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail—her go-to hairstyle. While her mother exuded style and confidence, Emma rocked the comfortable style. The irony of it was that Meg Fulton McKay was the most insecure woman known to mankind and used her style—compliments of personal shopper and best friend Tracy James—to mask her weaknesses while Emma felt strong and competent and couldn’t care less what she looked like. But for some reason, unbeknownst to her—or so she told herself—she pawed through her mother’s makeup bag and applied a touch of mascara and a coat of lip gloss. It had nothing to do with the fact that the incredibly delicious Mason happened to be outside swimming with Hannah. No, nothing at all.