Tucker

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 F*cking 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 f*ck?” 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?”

“Yeah.”

“And how did that go?”

“How do you think?”

Teague’s grin was contagious. “As f*cked up as this world is, I love that some things never change.”

Tucker hit return call on his cell and moved to the lobby of the hotel, where the reception was better and the noise was minimal. Outside it was snowing, big old snowflakes falling down in soft gusts, bathed in the streetlights that lit up the night.

He didn’t think the phone rang. Didn’t remember hearing a ring and yet all of a sudden there was his mother-in-law’s panicked voice in his ear.

“Tucker Simon, I have been calling you for hours. Why haven’t you answered me?”

“I…” Shit. What the hell was going on? “I’m sorry, Kate. I was in a meeting and my brother just flew into New York for a few hours. We were catching—”

“I don’t care about that. Tucker haven’t you seen the news?”

A shrill undertone colored her words and that prickly sensation was back. Big time.

“No. I…”

He had a bad feeling about this.

“Like I said, Kate. I was in a meeting and only saw you called now.”

“Tucker,” she wailed in his ear. “They’ve found her.”

For a moment, Tucker felt as if he was sitting in a cold, sterile room at the end of a very long hallway. There were echoes, not sounds really, just hard noises banging in his head. All the colors of the world bled into one, a dull, grey palette, that was sickly and awful.

“Tucker! Did you hear what I just said?”

He glanced up then and caught the eye of a businessman, briefcase in hand. The man looked at Tucker as if trying to put together a puzzle. And then like a light bulb went off, the man’s expression changed. There was a clarity there. Interest. Knowing.

Tucker looked away and ran his hand behind his neck, searching in the bar for his brother.

“What are you saying, Kate?”

“Oh my God, Tucker. Turn on the television. It’s all over the news.”

Like one of those crazy zombies from the show that Abby loved so much, Tucker shuffled back into the bar, yanking on his tie—the damn thing was too f*cking tight—his eyes on the flat screen above Teague’s head. He saw the headline, though the scrolling words, the details along the bottom were too far away for him to read.

“Missing wife of Tucker Simon, sports agent and one America’s celebrated Simons’, found alive and well in a hospital in Cuba.”

Son-of-a-bitch.

Teague was walking toward him, his expression calm, though his eyes were dark and intense. When he spoke, it sounded as if Teague was down that goddamn hall in that shitty, sterile room, and his words tinny and sharp.

“Are you okay? Tucker?”

Tucker’s eyes went back to the television. His wedding photo was now plastered across the screen. Face white, he stared up at it. Marley looked so young and seeing her up there hit him like a punch to the gut.

“I have to go,” he mumbled. Jesus Christ, Marley was alive? How was that possible?

“Let me grab my jacket. I’m with you, brother. Hold on.”

Aware that more than a few people were staring, Tucker walked to the window, his eyes on the snow. The clean, unspoiled white snow. It mesmerized him and he didn’t look away until he felt Teague’s hand on his shoulder.

“Where do you need to go?”

“I…” Tucker scrubbed at his eyes. “Abby…”

“Okay, we’ll figure this out. I’m here, all right? I’ll cancel Egypt and….” Teague’s voice trailed off and Tucker turned around.

The first thing he saw were fire-engine red boots and a matching coat that touched the top of her knees. Long dark hair spilled across her shoulders and her face….

Christ, her face was so white that she looked like a ghost and her chest heaved as if she couldn’t breathe. Abby took one look at him and her knees buckled.

“Hey,” Tucker said roughly as he moved forward and caught her up in a fierce hug. He held her trembling body against his, angry that he’d somehow caused her pain. Crazy with fear that everything he had—everything that he loved—was going to slip away from him.

Again.

“It’s true then?” Abby said, her words stilted as she shivered in his arms.

“I don’t know,” Tucker answered haltingly. “Jesus, Abigail, I don’t f*cking know.”

Abby rocked into him. Did someone take their photo? Was that Teague telling someone off?

Tucker didn’t know. He was trying his best not to freak the f*ck out. All he could do was hold this woman because right here, right now, she was real. She was real and she had him. She had every bit of him, and he needed to let her know that. He wanted to let her know that.

So why couldn’t he? What the f*ck was wrong with him?

She made a noise and his heart turned over.

He could barely breathe and glanced at his brother helplessly. F*ck, he hadn’t felt this helpless since...since Marley.

As if the very thought of Marley was enough to do it, an image of her smiling up at him, face flushed, eyes sparkling, hit him like hammer against stone. It was so real that for a moment he could smell the ocean. Feel the sun. He could feel Marley.

Startled, he shook his head. Disorientated.

“Tucker?” Abby croaked, sounding so small.

“I don’t know if it’s true,” he repeated, not knowing what else to say.

A heartbeat passed.

“Well, then,” Abby replied, raising her face to him, her hands clutched to his suit jacket. “I guess you better find out.”