Tucker

Chapter Seven




Tucker grabbed a cold beer from the waiter and leaned back against the bar as his family began to gather in the hotel restaurant for dinner. The impressive group of Simons had just come from the Fernham estate twenty minutes away, which boasted an old antebellum mansion where the wedding rehearsal had taken place and where the wedding ceremony would be performed tomorrow.

Tucker wasn’t in the actual wedding party, so he’d passed on heading out there to watch, and instead after golf, had relaxed in his suite while Betty had taken Abby to the spa to get their toes done.

He glanced at his watch and scowled. That was nearly three and a half hours ago. How long did it take a woman to get her damn toes done? He’d had time to make several business calls, shower and change, and was already on to his second beer.

He took another swig, eyes narrowed as his cousins Cooper and Rick arrived at the reception. Their younger sister, Calista, was the bride and both of them were standing up for the groom.

Cooper hadn’t shown for golf this morning and Tucker was guessing either a woman or a bottle of Gray Goose was to blame. He thought about is some more. Probably both.

Rick nodded and elbowed his brother as Cooper turned toward Tucker. It was eerie how much Cooper looked like Beau. Hell, they could pass as brothers, well, except Beau wasn’t an a*shole.

The two men started toward Tucker but were waylaid by Aunt Virginia, and Tucker took another swig, not bothering to hide a grin as Aunt Virginia tucked her arm through Cooper’s.

Virginia had a soft spot for all the blond Simon boys—he would be there for a while.

Tucker glanced to his left as Beau sidled up to the bar.

“Shit, I was starting to think that you’d gone off with Betty too.”

Beau snorted. “Yeah, cuz a spa is exactly where I’d be right now.”

Tucker took another swig from his bottle. He didn’t want to ask the question even though he was dying—

“They’re on their way down. Betty just sent me a text.”

“Huh,” was Tucker’s reply.

“Apparently my lady love felt the need to squeeze in a little shopping.”

“Christ,” Tucker muttered. “I’m not convinced that retail therapy is cheaper than a shrink, no matter what she says.”

“No kidding,” Beau said in agreement, accepting a cold one from the bartender. “Who the hell decides to go shoe shopping an hour before dinner? Especially a woman who brings a suitcase just for her shoes. I swear to God she packed twenty pairs to come down here for the weekend, and she’ll wear maybe two of them.”

The two men sat in relative peace—at least for the moment—mostly because Aunt Virginia had Rick and Cooper cornered, and the rest of the cousins hadn’t spotted them yet. In a family as high profile as the Simons, Beau, with his Hollywood celebrity, stood out.

Beau took another pull from his longneck and then set it on the bar as he leaned back. “Mom and Dad aren’t here yet.”

“Nope,” Tucker replied, scanning the room although it wasn’t for his parents.

“I think their flight was delayed from Toronto.”

Tucker swiveled his head around. “Toronto? They were up at the cottage?”

The Simon family had a big piece of property on Lake Muskoka and spent a fair bit of time up there in the summer. It had been in the family since the early 50’s, and Tucker and his brothers had been going up there since he could remember.

“For at least a week. They always go up for the Canadian Thanksgiving to spend the weekend with their friends.” Beau frowned. “When’s the last time you talked to them?”

Tucker didn’t want to admit that he’d been avoiding his mother’s calls ever since she’d brought up the whole prostitute thing, so he just shrugged and shook his head. “It’s been a few weeks.”

“She’s going to lay into you when she does get here. You know that, right?”

Tucker didn’t answer because there was nothing to say. Beau was right. His mother would have more than a few choice words for him, and damned if he didn’t deserve them.

Beau nodded toward Aunt Virginia. “I guess you heard that Uncle Max broke his hip?”

“Nah, I didn’t hear that.” Good. It meant that Aunt Virginia would hopefully attach herself to Cooper for most of the night instead of bothering him because lord knows the woman liked to dance.

“Apparently he was trying to wave-board and didn’t quite make it.”

“Wave-board?” A grin tugged on Tucker’s mouth. “Are you shitting me? He’s got to be pushing eighty, isn’t he?”

“Mom says he’ll be ninety-two next year.”

“Wow,” was all Tucker had.

“Yeah.”


Tucker glanced at Beau, but his brother’s eyes slid away. Something was up.

“What’s on your mind?”

A few moments ticked by and then Beau grabbed up his longneck and tore at the edge of the label.

“It’s got to be hard for you.”

Tucker’s chest tightened, but he kept his eyes on Beau as he continued.

“Coming back here, I mean. You and Marley…you guys spent most of your time together in the Keys.”

Tucker didn’t answer Beau right away. He nodded at the bartender and motioned for two more drinks. Once they were served, he shoved a hand into the front pocket of his navy slacks and tried to relax his shoulders, but it was no use. He was strung tight and loosened his tie a bit.

“I had to come back at some point, right?”

He couldn’t meet his brother’s eyes. Instead he tipped the bottle against his mouth and drank damn near the entire thing.

“Yeah,” Beau said softly. “I guess you did.”

All around them, groups had gathered. Family members who hadn’t seen each other in months or years even, hugged and chatted. It was an animated bunch. A crazy, eclectic, loud bunch that Tucker called family, and he realized that he had missed them. Hell, even eccentric Aunt Virginia.

The Simons were his blood, and he’d been away for far too long.

“There’s my boys.”

Tucker barely had time to turn around before he was enveloped in a bear hug from a man who still had at least an inch or so on his sons.

Noah Simon was a force of nature who took no prisoners.

He was as at ease in the boardroom as he was in the swamps hunting gators. A southern boy through and through, he’d been raised right by a woman who’d done it on her own after his father was killed in the Korean War. He was the kind of man who believed that the power of discipline only worked when it was dealt with a gentle hand. And he was also a man who believed in dealing swiftly with those who crossed him—he wasn’t someone you’d want as an enemy.

After embracing both his boys, Noah stepped back, his piercing eyes as blue as ever.

“Tuck, you better get your shit together because your mama isn’t exactly happy with you, and you’ve got about two minutes before she makes her way over here.”

And his forthright manner was pretty much the same too.

“I know,” Tucker replied a bit sheepishly. “I’ve been meaning to call. I’ve just been…busy.”

“Busy,” Noah said carefully, his eyes moving to the bartender. “I’ll have a scotch, neat.” He returned his gaze to his sons.

“She worries about you, Tucker. I know you’re a grown man and life gets in the way, but you need to check in from time to time. Your mother gets antsy when she doesn’t hear from you and when your mama isn’t happy, well…”

His father didn’t have time to say anything else because Cooper had somehow managed to extricate himself from Aunt Virginia’s clutches, and he and Rick joined them at the bar.

Cooper shook Noah’s hand and then clapped Beau on the shoulder before turning to Tucker. He paused for a moment as if he wasn’t sure what to say and then offered his hand. “Damn good to see you, Tuck. It’s been a while.”

Tucker shook his cousin’s hand, and in spite of himself, felt a gentle tug inside. They’d been so close once. And even though the aftermath of Marley’s death had put something between them all—most of his cousins didn’t know what to do or say—Tucker took some of the blame. He hadn’t made things easy for any of them either.

“I hear things are going well for you in New York.”

“Things are good,” Tucker replied.

“Rick told me you just signed Dean Kendrick as a client. I gotta say, that’s pretty damn impressive.”

“Kendrick?” Beau said, as his father echoed the name. “When did this happen?”

One thing about the Simons, every single one of them were sports junkies—it didn’t matter whether it was baseball, hockey, basketball, or football. Take your pick. If there was a sports team involved, the Simons were invested. Some would say fanatical.

Beau had been a starting pitcher for the Yanks before an injury ended his career and a chance encounter with a director set him on a path toward Hollywood and superstardom. If not for that, he’d still be playing the game.

The conversation quickly snowballed into an intense discussion about Kendrick and his future with the Rangers, and for a few minutes, Tucker lost himself in it. It was easy to do—Cooper and Beau felt that he was the franchise player Tucker believed him to be. While his father and Rick felt he was too young to carry the weight of the team and definitely too green to lead.

Their corner soon got loud, as the Simons tended to do, and it might have accelerated if not for the woman making her way toward them.

Tucker’s mother appeared at his father’s side, effectively shutting down the curse words. Not that his mother was a prude—far from it—but his mom had a few rules in that regard. Firstly, if you had the occasion to wear a suit, than cursing wasn’t allowed. And secondly? If you had the occasion to wear a suit and disregarded her first rule, then there would be hell to pay.

Tucker’s mom believed cursing was best left for the outdoors or behind closed doors, and most definitely not in mixed company.

She kissed her husband, Noah, on the cheek and then reached for Tucker.

Eden DuRocher-Simon was small, delicate even, but Tucker braced himself as he scooped her into a hug, because he knew that she had no problem giving it to any of them. And right about now he was the one who was going to be getting the giving.

But she surprised Tucker. She accepted his kiss, his murmured apology for not returning her calls, and she even smiled up at him as he relaxed his grip. Her smile was almost a little too sweet.

Tucker watched her suspiciously. Something was up.

“You look beautiful, Mom,” Tucker murmured, squeezing her hand as she stepped back.

And she did. Her hair, the color of burnished sable, glistened beneath the lights, brushing her shoulders. She wore a pale yellow dress, classy in style with a fitted bodice and a skirt that fell just above her knew. It was set off with a strand of pearls that he knew his father had given her on their wedding day, the matching earrings finishing the ensemble.

Eden accepted a glass of wine from her husband and took a sip, her look direct as she gazed up at her son.

Tucker knew something was coming at him and he had a feeling it was—

“So I just met the loveliest girl. Abby Mathews.”

Shit.

Tucker glanced at Beau, but his brother shrugged which basically meant he was on his own.

“Is she the reason you’ve been,” his mother’s eyebrow shot up, “so busy?”

Christ. Here we go.

“Mom,” Tucker began, but he was cutoff by a low whistle.

“Who the hell is that?” Cooper asked as they all gazed across the room.

“Cooper, language,” Eden murmured.

Betty Jo was grabbing two champagne glasses from a waiter, and sure, she looked amazing as ever, but it was the woman beside her who had Tucker’s attention. And he was pretty damn sure she had everyone else’s too.

Abby.

She looked unbelievable and not at all like the Abby he was used to. This Abby looked as if she’d just stepped out of the pages of some society magazine.

Dramatic makeup. Hair styled so that it fell over one shoulder in rippling waves of dark chestnut. Mouth glossy and full. Dressed in a strapless blood red cocktail dress that hugged her figure in a way that was meant to garner attention, Tucker snuck a look at his cousins. Rick was smiling at her and Cooper’s gaze was locked onto Abby as if she was a piece of candy he wanted to lick.


Tucker took a step forward. No way in hell was Cooper getting close to Abby. If anyone was going to lick her, it was gonna be him.

“Who the…who is that woman?” Cooper asked again.

Tucker threw his cousin a warning look which only made Cooper’s smile widen.

“Why that’s Tucker’s new friend, Abby,” his mother replied in her slow southern drawl. “And she’s such a delight. Smart as a whip, funny as all get out and she can hold her own with Betty, which—” she glanced at Beau and winked—“isn’t the easiest thing to do.”

Beau snorted. “You got that right.”

“I like a woman with a sense of humor,” his mother said softly.

“Really,” Cooper replied. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Something hot and dangerous pulsed inside Tucker, and for a second, he visualized his fist connecting with Cooper’s perfect f*cking nose.

He didn’t act on it, and he sure as hell didn’t pay any attention to it.

What he did do was set his empty beer bottle on the bar and, with a curt nod toward his mother, headed for the lady in red.