“I was . . . thinking.”
She let out a derisive laugh. “Oh. You were thinking. About what? How best to break up with me? You’re an asshole, Tucker. I thought you were someone completely different—a man with honor and integrity, and someone who would never lie to me. I was so wrong about you—about us and what I thought we had together.”
“Aubry, I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Of course you didn’t, because you’re a coward. I’m so disappointed in you, Tucker. You could have at least had the balls to be honest with me. Or at least faced me and told me you’d chosen your career over me. That, at least, I’d have understood. Instead, you ran and hid from me. I don’t want a man who’d do that, so guess what, Tucker? You’re off the hook. We’re done.”
She headed for the door but Tucker was right there.
“Don’t do this. Let’s talk.”
She laughed. “Oh, so now you want to talk? Too late.” She stared at the door, then at him, demanding without words that he get the hell out of her way—out of her life.
He moved and she opened the door and stalked out, barely breathing as she made her way to her car. She shut the door and took several deep breaths.
She’d done what she needed to do. It was over now. She should feel better, clearer headed.
She didn’t. Seeing him again just made her miss him even more. What they’d had together had been amazing. Why had he thrown it all away?
She sighed, gripped the steering wheel and forced herself to take several more calming breaths.
It was just another failed relationship. She’d get over it just like she’d gotten over the others.
Except this wasn’t like the others. She’d never loved anyone before.
Her mind swept back to the look of utter misery she’d seen on Tucker’s face while she’d been railing at him.
She shook her head. No. It wasn’t possible that Tucker was hurting. The man couldn’t possibly have a heart.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have broken hers.
THERE WAS NOTHING LIKE THE FEELING OF SETTING your boots on the front porch of your home. For Tucker, home would always be the family ranch in Texas where his parents lived. He stood outside in the early-morning hours watching the golden sunrise over the tops of the trees, breathing in the Texas air.
It was the first time he’d felt good in weeks.
He might not be a football player like the rest of his brothers, or like his father, but the Cassidy athletic dynasty was what made him into the athlete he’d become. And he owed all of that to his father, Easton. The man was a sports legend, had played football in college and spent his entire career in Green Bay. He’d been one hell of a quarterback, and he was one hell of a dad.
It was always good to come home and feel the energy his dad still emanated.
Tucker needed some of that feel-good fire right now. Because right now he felt broken.
Coward.
That word hovered incessantly in the back of his head like it had been branded there for all eternity. And he goddamn didn’t like that feeling.
He heard the front door open and the sound of boots approaching. He knew without looking those were the sounds of his father’s footsteps.
“You’re up early. I would have thought you might have slept in.”
Tucker looked over at his dad, who, even in his mid-fifties, still looked as robust and healthy as he’d been the last time he’d played a game for Green Bay. Working the ranch kept him active and Tucker was grateful for that.
“Haven’t been sleeping much.”
“I figured you didn’t make this stopover because you wanted to spend a day helping me rebuild fence on the northeast side of the property.”
Tucker laughed. “Yeah, not so much.”
“Okay. What’s going on?”
Tucker looked out over the front of the property. Dogs were playing and scrub blew across in the breeze. But it was calm and peaceful.
Not inside Tucker, though. Inside there was turmoil, a twister of emotions he needed to get out. “I’m in love with Aubry Ross. She’s Clyde Ross’s daughter.”
“Clyde Ross being the owner of the Rivers?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that a problem?”
“It wasn’t until she brought me to her parents’ house for dinner. Clyde pulled me aside and told me that Aubry’s career in medicine has to take precedence in her life, and if I didn’t stop seeing her he’d send me back down to Triple-A ball or trade me.”
“Bastard.” His dad took a sip of his coffee, then took a seat on one of the chairs on the porch, propping his feet up on the porch rail. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know. If it was any other guy telling me to stop seeing his daughter or else, I’d tell him to fuck off. No one tells me what to do. But Clyde Ross owns the Rivers. He could do anything he wants to me, from trading me to sending me back to Triple-A ball.”