Tucker (The Family Simon) (20 page)

His hand tightened, just underneath her breast and his breathing changed. “She wanted a kid. As young as she was, she wanted a kid real bad.”

Abby bit her lip. She heard the pain in his voice and it seeped into her.

“That was one argument I didn’t let her win. Hell, we’d only been married a few months when she first brought it up. I wanted to live without the responsibility of a kid. I wanted us to do things. Travel. Go to Europe. Snorkel off the coast of Australia. Spend some of that damn Simon money sitting in the bank, but…”

“Tucker we don’t have to…you don’t have to tell me this stuff.”

“No,” he said, voice rough. “It feels good to get it out. There are things I haven’t told anybody. Not even Teague and he pretty much knows everything.”

He paused.

“She lied to me. She stopped taking the pill, and she didn’t tell me, and she got pregnant.”

Abby stilled. This was big. It was big and heavy, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“No one in the family knew, because I was so fucking angry that I didn’t tell anyone. We fought about it, a lot, and at first she denied everything. Said it was an accident. That we were that one percent it happened to. But Christ, I knew. Looking into her eyes, I
knew
and that was the one time I wasn’t giving in. No way was I letting her win that one. After a while, she realized the lie was useless and she finally came clean. But the damage was done, you know? How could I trust her after that?”

He sighed. “In the end, it didn’t really matter. She lost the baby at fourteen weeks. It was a little boy.” He was quiet for a second. “Shit, I didn’t know I wanted him until he was gone.”

“Oh, Tucker,” Abby whispered, burrowing into him. Wrapping her arms around his and holding him.

“Things weren’t exactly settled afterward. I was still trying to figure her out. Figure out how she could lie like that. About a month after she lost the baby, she got that call to head out with a team to investigate a bunch of beached whales. It was early. A Sunday morning. I remember she tugged on my arm. Wanted me awake. She asked me to give her a lift to the airport. But I’d been out with a couple of the guys the night before, something I’d been doing a lot of that last month or so. My head was pounding, and I was pissed off that she’d woke me up.”

His hand was in Abby’s hair.

“That’s all I remember. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t kiss her goodbye. She mumbled something like, ‘we need to talk when I get back’. And that was it. That’s the last time I heard her voice, other than in my nightmares.”

Abby slowly turned around, her heart aching with the pain that she saw on his face.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Abby said softly.

“No,” Tucker replied. “But sometimes it feels like it.”

“Do you…” God, was Abby really going to go there right now? “Do you still love her?”

Breath held, Abby stared up into the eyes of the man who owned her heart, waiting for him to say something. But moments ticked by, long moments filled with a heavy silence.

“I…” He blew out a hot breath.

Say something.

Tucker looked tortured. There was no other word for it.

She whispered, “it’s okay.”

He made a sound that came from deep inside his soul.

“Abby.”

And then his mouth was on hers and she wrapped her hands in that long hair of his and gave him what he needed. Love.

She kissed him, pouring every ounce of feeling that she had into that kiss. When his tongue plunged inside her mouth, she answered in kind. It quickly became an aggressive, almost frantic joining.

Their lips. Their bodies. Their minds and their souls.

Tucker whipped the covers off of them and the cool air hit her hot, sweaty skin, but it didn’t matter. It was brighter outside, and she feasted on the sight of him. How his muscles strained as his arms cradled her, how the tendons in his neck corded when he raised himself over her.

When he slid inside Abby, when she felt that hot, throbbing length of him buried inside her body, she pulled him close. If she could have crawled inside him she would have. She would have done anything for him. She bucked her hips and met his thrusts, their mouths once more entwined.

There were no words. No soft moments, no slow sensual caresses. There was only need and want and a connection that she didn’t want to ever break.

As Tucker’s thrusts became harder, faster. As her insides began to pull and her orgasm pressed hard. As their sweat soaked bodies slid against each other—their rhythm perfect, the friction erotic—Abby strained against his mouth, her heart full and near to bursting.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Over and over she heard those words inside her head.

Only afterward as she laid in his arms, both of them trying to catch their breath did she think that maybe one of them had said those words out loud.

Chapter Twenty-three

Thanksgiving came and went, but it was one of the best Thanksgivings Tucker could remember. The snow had come early to Northern Ontario, so the annual Simon family football game was a no go. However, they’d cleared the ice between the boathouse and the shoreline, and a pretty animated game of shinny had entertained everyone for most of the afternoon. Heck, even his mother had thrown on a pair of skates.

Tucker grinned. Who knew that his girl was such an ace on the ice? But then, every day something about Abby surprised him.

She talked in her sleep.

She won the football pool every goddamn week.

She never matched her socks. Like ever. She’d wear black and white zebra print on one foot and brown and gold cheetah print on the other.

She was addicted to
The Walking Dead
and he didn’t get that at all. Christ, every character on that show looked as if they needed to spend a goddamn week soaking in a bathtub. How the hell she thought the redneck with the crossbow was hot, he’d never know.

And her sketches were the most beautiful things he’d ever seen. In fact, he’d shown a few to a friend of his in the business and Abby was now working with a writer on a proposal for a series of children’s books.

Things were moving along. Progressing. And Tucker couldn’t remember ever feeling so excited about the unknown. About a future with someone.

Abby had moved into his apartment the second week in December. Sure her brother Mick had been a grouch about it—said they were moving a little too fast for him. But her other brothers, especially the youngest Josh, were great and her parents were really good people.

Her roommate Lisa spent more than her fair share of evenings with them for that first month, but after a while, it had slowed down and now she only showed up Friday nights for wine and a movie.

Abby said it was because she had a new guy, though Lisa wasn’t talking and he knew that it was driving his girl crazy, because she wanted to know who it was.

Tucker was fine with Abby having her girls’ nights. He usually made himself scarce—God forbid he got roped into watching
The
Fucking
Notebook
—or met some of the guys from the agency for beer and darts at The Black Dog.

They’d fallen into a routine and things were good. They were better than good.

Yep. Tucker was one lucky son-of-a-bitch to have found Abby, and there was no way in hell he was letting her go.

He glanced down at his cell. Fingered the number in the call display—the last one to call his phone—and tried to quiet the anxiety he was trying real hard not to feel.

He’d approached Marley’s parents a few weeks before about starting the process to have her declared legally dead. It had been the hardest decision he’d ever made, but after nearly four years, it was time. At least for him.

The conversation hadn’t gone smoothly. In fact, it had been pretty awful. He cared about these people, a lot, but their pain was still so palpable, their dislike of his new relationship so toxic, that he’d had to leave and he hadn’t heard anything since. He got that they were still in pain. Hell, he couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose a child, but he didn’t understand why they couldn’t see that he had to move on.

That he had moved on.

He supposed he could petition the court for a death certificate himself instead of waiting out the seven years, but he’d rather do it with their blessing.

He glanced down at his cell. So why were they calling him now? It was Valentine’s Day and he had plans. Big plans.

With a sigh, he pocketed his phone, deciding he’d call them back in the morning and ordered a drink from the bartender. Tucker had just finished a meeting with a sponsor for one of his newest clients, Jason Spender, a wide receiver for the Bronco’s, and he had about an hour to kill until Abby met him. He was taking her out for dinner to a fancy little bistro and then to the airport.

He chuckled to himself, already visualizing her expression when he told her they were flying to Costa Rica for a week of sunshine, hot sex, and only themselves for company.

Yep. Big plans.

Shit.

“You gonna tell me what that silly ass grin on your face means?”

Tucker’s head whipped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash. He was out of his chair, hand clapped on the man’s shoulder before the guy could say anything else.

“Jesus Christ, Teague. What the fuck?” He stared at his twin in shock. “How the hell did you…what are you doing back here, stateside? I thought you were still in South America somewhere, or goddamn Africa.”

Teague Simon slapped him on the back, in that rough way that guys do before sliding onto the barstool beside Tucker.

Tucker couldn’t wipe the silly-ass grin off his face. Goddamn but he missed his brother, and he motioned for the bartender to bring them another round. Dressed in faded green cargos, combat boots, a thick cable-knit turtleneck and a worn, black leather jacket, the guy looked all kinds of dangerous. With more than a week’s worth of stubble on his jaw and hair that looked like it needed a cut weeks ago, he didn’t exactly look like he belonged in the upscale bar.

He looked…

“Christ, Teague. You look like shit.”

Teague snorted and downed his tumbler in one long draw. He raised his glass, indicating he wanted another and leaned on the bar, his dark eyes intense as they looked back at Tucker.

“I feel like shit. But that’s pretty much par for the course these days. It’s been a crazy few weeks.”

Tucker sipped his whiskey. His brother was a photo-journalist, one usually found in the most dangerous parts of the world. Be it war in the Middle East, famine in Africa or organized crime in Mexico…he was there. He was one of the best at what he did and highly sought after, but from what Tucker could see, it was starting to show on him.

Teague’s eyes looked…haunted.

“Do Mom and Dad know you’re back?”

The family had been disappointed that Teague had been unable to make it home for Christmas and in fact, Tucker had caught his mother sniffling over some old family photos more than once.

Their son’s dangerous escapades were starting to wear on them as well, and he knew that his mom wanted Teague home on American soil. She wanted Teague settled with a wife and a pack of kids, but that wasn’t likely to happen. Teague Simon was like a lone wolf. He just did better on his own.

“Nah.” Teague shook his head. “I’m only in New York for a few hours and no time to head to Florida. Waiting for a flight out to Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

He shook his head. “Yeah.”

“Dangerous shit going on in that part of the world.”

“Someone’s got to go, Tuck. Someone needs to tell the stories. The real stories.”

Tucker didn’t say anything. He’d never really understood his brother’s need to live life on the edge. To be in places where life and death were separated by chance and luck.

Nope. Tucker didn’t understand it, but he sure as hell respected it. As far as he was concerned, his brother Teague was one of the most fearless men he knew.

“How did you know I was here?”

Teague slipped off his jacket, smiling at a woman a few seats down and then stretched out his long arms. “Your secretary. Told me you had a meeting here and that I’d find you in the bar.” Teague winked. “She knows you well and she’s damn cute.”

Tucker’s eyebrows rose. “She’s too young. Christ, she’s barely out of college.”

“Yeah,” Teague said with a grin. “But still. She’s pretty damn cute although…” his grin widened. “…she’s not as hot as the woman in the picture on your desk. I take it that’s your Abby?”

Tucker nodded. Busted.

“That’s her.”

The brothers sat in silence for a few moments and then Teague spoke gruffly. “I’m happy for you. After Marley…well, I just didn’t think you were ever going to climb out of that pit.” He shrugged. “At least not all the way.”

The bartender brought them another round, pointing to the woman whose hungry gaze was still on Teague. The brothers accepted the drinks and while Tucker nursed the glass, Teague slammed his back.

“Do you love her?” Teague asked.

Tucker glanced at his brother and then nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“That’s good.” Teague paused and shot him a sideways glance. “Have you told her yet?”

Christ, his brother knew him well.

“No.” He thought of his big plans and smiled. “But that’s all gonna change tonight.”

Just then his cell buzzed and he whipped it out, the smile still in place. It had to be Abby. But his smile faded when he saw Kate Danvers name again. Marley’s mother. An odd sensation washed over him. A weird sort of de je vu.

“That your girl?” Teague asked.

“No.” He glanced up to his brother. “I’m going to have to take this. When’s your flight? Do you still have some time?”

“Go,” Teague glanced toward the blond who’d bought them a round. “I’ll be here when you get back.” He shoved away from the bar and chuckled. “Besides, I need to meet this Abby woman. See if she’s as hot in real life as she is in that picture on your desk.”

“Don’t be getting any ideas about her,” Tucker warned.

“It’s not me you have to worry about. Has Cooper met her?”