Beautifully Broken Spirit

by Catherine Cowles

  A chair creaked. “Jensen and you, huh?”

  I wanted to curse. Cain had always been too damn observant for his own good. “We’re friends. You know that.”

  “I haven’t heard you mention her name much lately. That’s all.”

  My hand clenched around the steering wheel. “We’ve been spending more time together.”

  More silence. “Tuck. Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’re not exactly built for commitment.”

  It sounded so similar to the things my dad used to say. Men aren’t designed to be monogamous, especially Harris men. I gritted my teeth. “We’re just friends.”

  Cain, of course, read my subtext, which was something to the effect of “fuck off.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. If you told me you were ready for a serious commitment and you were pursuing J, I’d be over the moon for both of you. But you weren’t exactly looking for that in the past. And I don’t think Walker would be too pleased about you going after his sister for your usual fix.”

  My hand squeezed even tighter around the wheel, the knuckles going white. “We’re just friends. But none of that matters right now because her douchebag ex is in town trying to extort money out of her with the threat that he’s going to take her to court to get full custody of Noah. So, if you could stop your gossipy girl shit for two minutes, I’d really like for us to focus on that for a bit.”

  “Fuck.” A chair squeaked again, and soon, I heard typing. “What’s his full name?”

  My shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Cody Ailes.”

  “You got a date of birth?”

  “Hold on.” I put Cain on speaker, opened the notes app on my phone, and read off Cody’s birthday.

  “This is my first priority. Give me a few hours for a preliminary, and a couple of days or a week for a deeper dive depending on what I find.”

  I let out a long breath. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve always got your back.” Cain paused. “And, Tuck?”

  My jaw clenched, and I braced for more shit about Jensen. “Yeah?”

  “If you want more, you should reach for more.”

  My back molars ground together. “She deserves better than me. My family. My history. I’m not sure I’m capable of being what she needs.” I hated each and every word that came out of my mouth.

  “Tuck. I’ve known you since we were eighteen. We’ve both done some stupid shit. But there is nothing in you that isn’t good.” Cain paused for a moment. “And it sounds like you’re already what she needs.”

  I wanted so badly for that to be the truth. Because I knew deep down that things were changing. That hope that I could burn out this fire between us, so all that was left was easy affection and friendship was a distant memory.

  I wanted more. I wanted everything. And that scared the hell out of me.

  30

  Jensen

  “I can’t believe you guys were going to keep this from me.” Walker picked up his drink but his gaze stayed focused on me.

  I sighed and took another sip of my beer. My brother was never going to let me hear the end of it. After I’d told my mom everything that had happened with Cody, she’d told my dad, who then spilled the beans to Walker. “I just didn’t want you to lose it and do something stupid.”

  Walker scowled at his whiskey. “You think I have no self-control or something?”

  Tuck grunted. “Not when it comes to your sister.”

  Walk took a sip of his drink. “Like you’re any better.”

  Taylor reached over and placed a hand over Walker’s. “This is not helping Jensen get her mind off things.” She gave me a sympathetic smile across the table.

  After Walker had calmed down from losing his shit over Cody’s actions, Taylor had suggested that we all go out to get our mind off things. At first, I’d resisted, not wanting to leave Noah’s side, but he was asleep with my parents standing guard downstairs, and I’d been outvoted.

  I’d called my lawyer, who was doing everything he could to move along my filing for the termination of Cody’s rights. Tuck promised that he was working an angle, too. So, there was nothing else I could do. I took another swig of beer. There was nothing else I could do unless you considered murder. And that was the backup plan playing on a steady repeat in my brain.

  A hand reached over and squeezed my thigh. I glanced to my left, my gaze catching on Tuck. His silent support was always what I needed. I hated that we couldn’t be more careless with our displays of affection. I hated that it made that jealousy spike inside me when I looked at Taylor and my brother.

  That’s not what this is. Friends with benefits, I reminded myself. But something told me my traitorous heart had forgotten those rules.

  “Jensen?”

  I jolted at the sound of Taylor’s voice. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  Taylor laughed, but her gaze danced between Tuck and me. “I asked how things were going with your new hire? She seems super nice.”

  I took another sip of beer, trying to get my emotions and nerve-endings under control. “Kennedy’s great.” I paused. “Well, other than the fact that she’s a disaster in the kitchen. She’s great with the drinks, the customers, the register. But when it comes to baking, she gives you a run for your money.”

  Walker chuckled, and Taylor smacked him in the chest. “I’m not that bad.” Walker just stared at her. “Okay, fine, but I’m getting better.”

  Walker wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck. “Short-stack, you almost burned down the kitchen yesterday.”

  I covered my mouth in an attempt to conceal my giggle, but it wasn’t long before the entire table had given in to the laughter. I felt the energy beside me shift before I saw anything. An unidentified tension floated through the air. I looked at Tuck, who had gone stone-still, his jaw hard, his eyes blazing.

  I followed his gaze. Sitting on a stool at the bar was Tuck’s father. But that wasn’t what had Tuck boiling. Craig stood with his arm wrapped around a woman who was not Tuck’s mother. He bent, whispered in her ear, and then pressed his lips to her neck. I sucked in a breath.

  Tuck began to rise up out of his chair, but I clamped a hand on his thigh. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”

  Tuck’s gaze landed on me, and the raw pain I saw there stole all the air from my lungs. “I have to. He can’t do this to Mom.”

  Tuck shook off my hold and headed towards his father.

  “Shit,” I muttered and began to stand.

  Walker reached out and grabbed my arm, a look of confused concern on his face. “What’s going on?”

  I met my brother’s gaze. Every now and then, he could be so damn oblivious. “Tuck’s dad is a cheating asshole.”

  Walker’s eyes flared, shooting to Craig at the bar. I pulled my arm out of his grasp and headed over.

  Tuck’s fists were clenched, and that muscle in his cheek ticked. “This is a whole new level of low even for you, old man.”

  Craig took another sip of his beer and pulled his companion a bit closer. “Oh, the high and mighty Tucker is going to tell me how to live my life, huh? Too good to work on the ranch with me. Had to go out into the forest like some sort of fucking hippie. Just because you aren’t a real man, doesn’t mean I ain’t.”

  What Tuck’s father was saying didn’t even make sense. I watched as Craig wobbled a bit. He was shitfaced.

  Tuck flexed his hands. “You’re not doing this to Mom. I’m calling you a cab. You need to go home.”

  Craig pushed off his stool, upending the woman who was half in his lap. “You always were a fucking mama’s boy. Go on. Tattle on me. See if I give a fuck.”

  “How about I have you arrested for public intoxication? See how a night in the drunk tank treats you.”

  Craig’s face reddened, and he charged. He tried to clip Tuck in the jaw with his fist but missed, hitting his son’s shoulder instead. Tuck retaliated with two blows to his dad’s side, sending Craig crumpling to the ground.

  The entir
e bar was dead silent. I’d never heard it so quiet in my life. Tuck’s gaze swung around the space, almost a feral quality to his gaze, and then it landed on me. “I have to get out of here.”

  “Go. I’ll have Walker deal with your dad.”

  And with that, he took off, but not before I saw the look of true hopelessness on his face.

  31

  Tuck

  I jogged the twelve blocks to my house, the bitter winter wind stinging my skin the whole way. I had hoped temperatures hovering around zero would cool my temper. It didn’t work.

  I slipped my key into the lock and pulled open the door. I hated this house. Loathed that it was in town and not on my family’s property. From the time I was young, the plan had always been for me to build on a piece of the acreage on Harris Ranch. But when things really shifted, I couldn’t handle being in such close proximity to my father. So, I’d bought this modern craftsman in town.

  I didn’t like that my neighbors were close. That there was no open space or view. I could’ve bought another ranch, but that sort of felt like giving up. I hated that my father had enough power over my life to ruin even more. Keeping me from my birthright, the place my soul used to feel the most settled, my home.

  “Goddammit!” I spun, crashing my fist through the wall, sending plaster flying everywhere. I pulled my hand from the drywall, blood dripping from my knuckles. “Fuck.”

  I headed for the kitchen. Turning the water on as cold as it would go, I stuck my hand under the spray and hissed.

  “Tuck?” Jensen’s voice called out tentatively from the entryway.

  I was silent for a minute. I should’ve stayed far away from her in that moment. Far away from anyone. “In here.” My selfish desire for her was too strong.

  Her boots sounded on the hardwood floor. “Doing some redecorating?”

  I kept my gaze focused on the stream of water, my back to Jensen. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  Her heat was at my back. “Shit. Where’s your first-aid kit?”

  “It’ll be fine in a minute or two.”

  Jensen’s heat was gone as she muttered something about macho alpha males and infections that would kill them. She was back in under two minutes, holding the first-aid kit my mother had stocked in one of the bathrooms. It had never been opened. Jensen took the roll of paper towels from the counter and tore off a few. “Give me your hand.”

  I removed it from the spray, then turned off the water and placed my palm on the bed of paper towels she held. I stared at my hand as Jensen tenderly dried it with short, patting motions, nothing that would catch on the torn skin. They were the movements of a caring mother. Something in my chest twisted.

  Jensen laid my hand and the bed of paper towels on the counter. “Don’t move.”

  I obeyed, eyes still locked on my hand. I couldn’t bear to look her in the face, to have her see the depth of my weakness.

  Jensen’s movements were both quick and careful. She washed her hands, dried them, then opened the first-aid kit, taking a moment to assess her options before removing a tube of antibacterial ointment and a roll of gauze. She dabbed the gel on my torn knuckles and then slowly wound the bandage around them. The dressing was secure but not too tight. She taped it off. “Sit,” she said, inclining her head toward the kitchen table.

  I followed her instructions, still not meeting her gaze.

  Jensen moved around my kitchen with comfortable ease. I often forgot how well she fit into my life. Because she had always been there. For almost as long as I could remember, she’d always been a part of me.

  Jensen filled a plastic bag with ice and grabbed a towel from a drawer, wrapping it around the homemade ice pack. She slid into the chair next to me, gently laying the ice across my knuckles. It felt like heaven.

  We sat in silence. That comforting quiet I always had with Jensen. She waited until I was ready.

  “I hate him. I hate him because of the secrets I’ve kept for his sorry ass. I hate that he’s torn our entire family apart.” I sucked in air, each word seeming to catch on invisible barbed wire in my throat. “I hate him because I’m just like him.”

  Jensen went stock-still. Then she moved, grabbing my face in her hands and forcing me to meet her eyes. “You. Are. Nothing. Like. Him.”

  Our gazes locked, twining with each other, imprinting the words we’d never say aloud onto each other’s souls.

  I stood, my chair rocking back, the ice pack falling to the table. I grabbed Jensen around the waist and lifted. Her legs wound around me. I’d never needed her more than I did in that moment. I strode towards my bedroom, my dick hardening with each step, straining to get to her. The pressure against my zipper was painful, but I relished the pain.

  When we reached my room, Jensen slid down my body, and I let out a pained groan. She tore off her shirt, her breasts bouncing with the action. Then her bra was gone. We both toed off our boots. I used her belt loops to yank her to me. My fingers unbuttoned her jeans.

  I couldn’t wait. I needed a taste of her heat. I slipped a hand into her panties. Already wet. Fuck. I plunged a finger inside.

  “Tuck.” The single word was uttered on a breathy moan.

  “Gonna make you come just like this.” I swirled that single finger around inside her and added another. My palm rubbed against her clit, and she sucked in a breath. I worked her higher and higher, relishing the feel of the tiny convulsions around my fingers.

  I pumped deeper, starting a come-hither motion, searching for that spot I knew would make her detonate. Jensen’s legs began to tremble. I bent my head, taking her tight nipple into my mouth and sucked deep. Jensen let out a garbled noise.

  I rolled the bud between my teeth as my fingers inside her stroked deeper. As she began to tighten around me, I pressed my palm hard into that bundle of nerves and let my teeth sink lightly into her nipple. Jensen’s head fell back, and she clamped down around me so tightly, I was sure it cut off circulation to my fingers.

  Jensen began to crumple, and I laid her back on the bed, slipping my hand from her jeans. She stared at me intently as I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked them clean. Her eyes blazed. “Take me. Now.”

  32

  Jensen

  I eased my jeans down my legs, my gaze staying locked with Tuck’s as he unbuttoned his shirt. Stepping out of my pants, my hands went to Tuck’s jeans, but my eyes never strayed from his. There was something different about this time. Something unnamed that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  Tuck pulled his wallet from his back pocket, removing a condom and tossing the billfold onto the pile of clothes. I helped Tuck roll the latex on, relishing the feel of him beneath our joined hands. His dick pulsed, and something tightened deep inside of me. “Now, please,” I whispered.

  Tuck laid me back on the bed, hovering over me for a moment, his gaze tracing my face. His lips grazed one temple, then the other before lingering on my forehead. My eyes closed as I tried to soak up every sensation of his lips on my skin.

  He settled between my legs, entering me so slowly and tenderly, tears gathered in my eyes. The pace Tuck set was deliberate as if he wanted this to last as long as possible. His strokes were long and deep and delicious.

  My hips rose to meet his, finding the rhythm that was ours and ours alone. A dance that said more than either of us had the guts to voice. Beads of sweat began to pepper my skin. My heels dug into his ass, spurring him on.

  We both picked up our pace, our rhythm becoming more frenzied. My nails dug into Tuck’s back. His thrusts bottomed out inside me, hitting that spot that caused sparks to dance across my vision.

  Deeper. Faster. More. Everything. Sensations flickered through my body in a cascade. Pleasure. Pain. Strain. Need. I’d never experienced so much at one time.

  My walls began to tremble. Tuck thrust deeper than he ever had before. We came apart together. Our worlds shattering. And I knew I’d never be the same.

  Tuck’s fingers traced the ridges in my spine.
/>   I let out a long breath. “I should probably go.” His fingers stilled. “It’s the last thing I want to do, but if I don’t, there will be questions.”

  Tuck pressed his lips to my hair. “I’ll walk you out.”

  We dressed in silence. Something inside me yearned to ask, “is this more?” My bad track record when it came to men kept me silent. What if I said something, and it ruined the thing between us? I couldn’t name what it was we shared. All I knew was that it was beautiful. And so very fragile.

  Tuck walked me to my car, pulling open my door. His lips grazed my temples, and then my forehead. “Drive safe. Text me when you’re home.”

  I brushed my lips against his. “I will. Put some more ice on that hand.”

  Tuck grinned. “I’m fine.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Stubborn behemoth.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  I shook my head as I climbed into my SUV. The drive home was silent with only the clear, starry sky to keep me company. The farther away I got from Tuck, the more the phantom pain in my chest flared to life. Tears gathered in my eyes, soon spilling over and tracking down my cheeks. What was I doing, letting my heart latch onto a man who had never once been in a relationship? Who’d never once made a promise to me beyond the here and now. When Tuck needed his freedom—and at some point, he would—I was going to be crushed.

  As I pulled up to my guest house, the front porch lamp illuminated my grandmother. I wiped at my face before turning off the car, hoping the low light would disguise any signs of crying. I slipped from my vehicle and made my way to the house. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

  My grandma tipped her rocker back and forth. “Those two lovebirds? Couldn’t keep their hands off each other, so I sent them back to the ranch house so they could get busy without worrying about me being underfoot.”

  I grimaced. “Did you really have to share those details?”