Tucker

Chapter Twenty




Abby tore out of The Plaza Hotel and jumped into the first taxi that she saw. She was so angry and confused and angry that she could barely give the taxi driver her address. Light bulbs flashed in her face as paparazzi shouted at her for a smile. A wave. A name!

A smile? A goddamn smile?

She wanted to cry and she had no idea what the hell had just happened.

“Are you okay, Miss?” the taxi driver asked as he pulled away.

Hell. No.


“I’m great,” she answered woodenly, eyes on her hands. “Never been better.”

She said no more because there were no words. How could she vocalize the paralyzing emotion inside of her? She didn’t say anything to Lisa when she walked through the door of their apartment. She gave her roommate the hand and headed for her bedroom, the beautiful dress she’d been so excited for Tucker to see catching the door when she slammed it shut.

Some incoherent sound welled up from her chest, and she yanked on the material so hard that the dress ripped. Staring down at the tattered end, she sank to the floor, shaking, the ball of emotion in her chest threatening to break free.

What. The. Hell.

She’d been looking forward to this night all week and now? Now it was done and over, and it hadn’t even begun. It had crashed and burned and—her hands flew to her cheeks—it had crashed and burned in en epic way.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

Abby Mathews didn’t do meltdowns. Not even when Allison Getty had snapped inappropriate pictures of Abby in her underwear and sent them to members of their high school football team. Not even then.

Jesus, she’d just had the most intense fight ever, right in the middle of the Terrace Room at the Plaza. What would Tucker’s family think?

A knock sounded at her door and she froze.

“Abby, you gotta let me in.” It was Tucker.

Seconds ticked by, seconds that turned into minutes.

“Abby, please. We need to talk. I…we really need to talk.”

She glanced up at the door and felt a spark of heat hit her in the chest. Something was still alive inside her, and it was that something that forced Abby to her feet. It was that something that let her open the door.

And it was that something that twisted hard, until she had to look away from him. Moving out of the way, she let Tucker into her bedroom and then closed the door again.

“I’m surprised Lisa let you into the apartment.” Good. She sounded normal. Calm even.

“A hundred bucks will do it,” he answered and her eyes shot up to his.

“Just kidding,” Tucker said softly. “I told her that I wasn’t leaving and I’d sleep on the front doorstep if she didn’t let me in.”

“She should have left you out there.”

“It’s cold.”

“I know.”

“Actually, it’s November so it’s more than cold. It’s freezing.”

“Good. Even better.” Abby tugged at a knot in her hair, afraid to ask but just as afraid not to. “What the hell just happened, Tucker?”

He cleared his throat. Ran his hand through the hair at his nape, hair that he’d let grow out. Hair that only last night she’d gripped between her fingers when they’d made love.

Damn. They’d been so close. As close as a man and woman could be without…

Without saying the three words that could bring them even closer. I. Love. You.

Suddenly overwhelmed, Abby turned away and muttered. “Never mind.”

When does he have time for someone like you?

Those had been Tucker’s words. Words that pretty much said it all. Someone like you. Someone who doesn’t matter. And that’s exactly what this was about. At least for her.

Abby was smart enough to know there was a whole lot more going on than a few choice words that hurt. Ever since that first night that she’d stayed over at Tucker’s, she’d been walking on glass. Afraid to be happy. Afraid of not being happy. Afraid of being afraid.

Afraid of loving him.

Afraid of never being loved in return. It was exhausting, pretending that everything was perfect, because perfect was nothing more than an illusion. She loved this man and he— She had no idea what was going on inside his head.

“Hey.” His voice was low and had that bit of roughness she loved. She felt his warmth at her back and closed her eyes, wishing that she could melt into him and forget it all. But she couldn’t. Abby had her pride.

His hands were on her shoulders. “I acted like an a*shole.”

“Yep.”

“But Kendrick pissed me off.”

She wiggled out of his hands and turned around so that she could face him. “Why?”

His dark eyes studied her for the longest time, and then he shrugged. “I don’t like him touching you. I was…I was jealous.”

“Jealous,” she repeated. That something inside her flipped around causing her heart to speed up and her face to burn. She had to shut that stuff down right now, because jealously didn’t mean any more than a loss of control. It wasn’t love. It was the fear of losing a possession.

“He had his hand on you, and I didn’t like it.”

“So you decided to throw me over your shoulder like f*cking Tarzan and tear out of the Terrace Room of The Plaza Hotel in front of, I don’t know, 350 guests?”

“400.”

“What?” she snapped.

“There were 400 guests.”

Silence fell between them, and then Abby spoke, clearly and concisely. Mick would have been proud. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Abby.” He moved forward, but she moved back a step. “What the hell are you saying? I acted like a dick. I admit it. I was jealous as f*ck and acted like a goddamn fifteen-year-old.” Tucker’s face was dark and intense, and he crowded her until the back of her legs pressed against her bed.

Couldn’t he see what was inside her? Why couldn’t he see?

“You’ve surprised me,” Tucker said, almost to himself.

“What do you mean?”

Jesus. Just tell him to leave and get it over with.

His hand was now in her hair, and it took everything that she had not to lean into his touch. His other hand crept up and cupped her jaw, his thumb rolling over her bottom lip in a slow, sensual way.

She was falling. There was no other way about it. She would fall into a puddle at his feet, and he could stomp all over her.

“You, my friend, have knocked me on my ass.”

“Take your hands off of me, Tucker. I can’t think straight when you’re touching me.”

He grinned at that but didn’t let go. Instead he lowered his head until he was so close to her that she could count every single eyelash if she wanted to.

“Abby, I was jealous as f*ck because I don’t want another man touching you. I don’t want another man looking at you, and I sure as hell want to know if you’re having conversations about art with Dean Kendrick.” He drew in a ragged breath and Abby watched him, her heart pounding crazily. He had to see what was in her eyes. He had to know.

“This thing between us has gone way past casual. It’s so far past casual that I’m…”

“You’re?” Hope flared inside her. She couldn’t help it.

“I’m thinking things that I never thought possible again. Ever.” His hands slid back along her jaw and he dipped his head so that his warm breath fell against her earlobe.

“I’m thinking of the future. I’m thinking of a future with you in it.”

Startled, Abby blinked rapidly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the last month has been incredible. I’m saying that when I wake up in the morning and you’re not there I don’t like it. I’m saying that the highlight of my day is when I come to the bar and watch you work, or meet you for dinner and then we go back to my place and have lots of hot sex.”

She was breathless. There was no air inside her.

“I’m saying that watching the way your eyes shimmer when you’re about to come because I’m inside you is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His mouth moved up her jawline so slowly that her toes curled by the time he made it to her lips.


And then he murmured against her.

“I’m saying that I want you to come up north to the cottage with me to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family and that when we come home…”

God, she couldn’t think straight. “What?” she whispered into his mouth.

“I want you to move in with me.”



***



>“So you’re heading up to Canada with Tucker?”

Abby cleaned out the lemon tray and nodded. “Yep.” It was the Tuesday night before the long weekend and the bar had been hopping. New York had seen its first snowfall and the city was coated in several inches of the white stuff. It was crisp and clear, and, for now, clean outside.

With Christmas decorations twinkling from windows and Thanksgiving two days away, most of the city was in a good mood. Heck, Abby was in a great mood. She’d be in an even better mood once they were closed up, because she was off until after the holidays.

She glanced up at her brother Mick, whose frown was as dark as the thick waves on top of his head.

“Jesus, Mick, have you looked like that all day or did someone just now shit in your cornflakes?”

“Very funny.”

She shrugged and grabbed the lime tray.

Her roommate Lisa, slid up to the bar and sat her butt down. She was still nursing a beer, peeling the label back while she waited for Abby to finish.

“Did she tell you that she’s moving in with him?” Lisa said quietly, eyes still on the label of her beer bottle.

Abby’s head shot up, and if looks could kill, Lisa would be minus a head right now. She knew her roommate was worried that things were moving too fast between Abby and Tucker, but still, this was Abby’s decision, not Lisa’s. Besides, it’s not as if she was giving up her apartment. That would be stupid.

“Abigail—“

“Don’t start, Mick. I’m a big girl.” She narrowed her eyes as she glanced across the bar at Lisa. “And I haven’t made up my mind yet, but…”

“But,” Mick prompted.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Mick tossed his rag onto the bar. “What the hell do you see in that guy? Jesus Christ, I know he’s pretty. I know he’s filthy rich, but Abigail—“

“I hate when you call me Abigail.”

“It’s your name.”

“You sound just like Dad.”

Mick grabbed her hand—gently—and she looked up at him, eyes shining, heart bursting inside her.

“I love him, Mick.” There. She’d said the words out loud. “I love him,” she said again.

Mick’s hand fell away. “Wow. I knew you were in deep, but I sure as shit didn’t know you were all in.”

Abby let the tray fall back into the sink. “I’ve pretty much loved Tucker Simon since that first night he walked into this bar.” She nodded toward Lisa. “He sat there, he smiled up at me and I just…I just knew that he would change my life.”

Oh. God. To hear the words come out of her own mouth. To own those words…that was life changing.

For a moment there was silence, and then Mick spoke gruffly. “His situation is complicated.”

She nodded.

“I’m pretty damn sure he’s still married.”

Again she nodded. As far as Abby knew, his wife, Marley, had never been legally declared dead.

“Does he know that you love him?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“Does he love you?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you’re going to spend Thanksgiving with him.”

Slowly, she nodded.

“Well,” Mick said, his arm sliding across her shoulder. “Guess it’s time you figured that shit out.”

Abby leaned into her brother, eyes on her best friend, Lisa. She was anxious, scared and trying like hell not to be too hopeful. It was hard. Tucker had asked her to think about moving in with him. He’d mentioned the word future, and that had pretty much bounced around her head for the past few days.

Heck, who was she kidding? It was all she could think about.

“But Abigail, if he breaks your heart I will hurt him.” Her brother wasn’t teasing and she knew him well enough to know that he would try.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Okay.