Tucker (The Family Simon) (8 page)

“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.

“Your friend is something else, Tuck. Glad you found her.”

Speak of the devil.

Tucker glanced up as Jack stopped just in front of him. His dress shirt was undone, tie long gone, and the annoying Monique was nowhere to be seen. She’d flitted around him like a goddamn fly all night, and it was obvious that Jack wasn’t the only one with aspirations. Monique Patterson had her sights set on being a Simon, and Tucker had a feeling that if his brother didn’t play it right, he just might end up saddled with a woman he didn’t love.

“God, not you too,” Tucker muttered. “Look, we’re not involved.”

Jack cocked his head to the side, an eyebrow arched. “Okay,” he said eventually, dragging the word out a bit.

“We’re not,” Tucker repeated, louder than he should. Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with his family? Did they not understand the English language?

Jack glanced across the room as Abby’s laughter drifted over to them, and Tucker followed his direction. It had been a long day for most, and with the wedding in less than ten hours, the crowd was thinning.

“Too bad,” Jack murmured, slipping his arms into his suit jacket. “I like her.”

“Yeah,” Tucker replied. “She’s easy to like.” He paused, eyes still on Abby. “Where’s Monique?”

“Headache. She gets bad migraines.”

Not surprised. The woman was strung as tight a bow and anal about everything. Being around her was exhausting, and he didn’t know how Jack put up with her.

“She headed up to the room about twenty minutes ago.”

Tucker watched Abby lean closer to Rick, laughter bubbling on her lips. His cousin said something—eliciting another round of giggles—and then headed for the bar, while Abby rolled her shoulders and glanced toward Tucker. She was flushed, sexy as hell, and probably well on her way to being more than a little drunk. Tucker knew that wine wasn’t her drink of choice—she was more of a Bud Light kind of girl. But in this crowd, she’d stuck to champagne and wine and she’d had more than her share of the Pinot Grigio before and after dinner.

Abby held Tucker’s gaze for a few seconds, a soft smile on her lips, and it felt as if they were the only two people in the room. Just like that, the air was sucked from his lungs and Tucker sat straighter, nerves jumping like a junkie looking for a fix. A sudden gust of wind tugged on her hair blowing it across her face and she turned on her heel, disappearing into the night.

Tucker was on his feet and mumbling a goodnight to his brother in exactly three seconds flat. He strode past the bar, past those gathered for last call, past his cousin Rick and a few others, never taking his eyes off the doorway that Abby had disappeared through.

Once outside, he took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the gloom, though there was a sliver of moonlight bathing the tables and chairs in an eerie mist. Florida in October wasn’t exactly an oven, but it was cooler than normal and his breath made puffs as he exhaled.

Where the hell was she?

He glanced around, a frown on his face. The smell of the ocean and the sound of the waves soothed him as he caught sight of Abby near two large palm trees, down on the beach.

Her silhouette looked ghostly—the breeze still carried her hair, and she made no effort to tame the long strands so they drifted around her head in a slow, sensual dance. He made his way across the patio, his leather Armani’s sinking into the sand as he headed toward her. Tucker stopped a few feet from Abby and shoved his hands into his front pockets.

“It’s so nice out here,” she said without looking back at him. “Peaceful.”

“Are you cold?”

“No.”

Tucker took another step and he was beside Abby. He stared out into the darkness, watching the white frothy waves as they crested and came toward them, falling apart when they met the beach.

“But sad somehow you know?” she continued softly. “As if there’re secrets out there that we’ll never know.”

An ache formed in Tucker’s gut as he continued to look out over the water.

Or maybe secrets he wasn’t ever
meant
to know.

“Your family is lovely.”

Abby turned to him and that fresh scent of hers drifted in the air. It infiltrated his body and chased away his bad thoughts.

God, she smelled nice.

“I don’t know if lovely is the word I’d use to describe them, but they’re mine and I can’t complain.” He paused. “They really like you.”

“Even Cooper?” she said with a sly smile.

Tucker laughed. “Especially, Cooper.” He leaned down, so that his mouth was next to her ear. “And Rick and Beau and hell, you managed to make an impression on Jack, and he’s been so damn preoccupied lately that that’s gotta win you some kind of prize.”

“Prize?” Her voice was husky now. “Do I get to pick my prize?”

For a moment there was nothing but the sound of waves buffeting the beach and the whistle of wind in the palm leaves overhead. Things faded away, the rolling waves gentled and the wind softened. It was as if the those few seconds hung in the air—frozen in time—leaving him only with water and sand and Abby.

And a deep, dangerous undercurrent of sexual awareness that he couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard he tried.

“In that dress, you can pretty much ask for anything.”

She moved slightly so that she was facing him, her eyes downcast, her chest rose and fell rapidly—as if she was having trouble breathing. And dammit if Tucker didn’t have the same problem. The air was too heavy, it was filled with dark and lustful things.

“Anything?” she repeated.

She glanced up suddenly, and Tucker was lost in the shiny depths of her eyes. Had they always been so…so large and expressive? He might have groaned when she licked her lips.

“Kiss me,” she said suddenly.

Tucker gave himself a mental smackdown and cleared his throat as he desperately tried to get his shit together. He
wanted
to kiss her—he wanted to kiss her badly—but should they go there?