The Family Simon: Tucker Part 20

>"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 s.h.i.t in your cornflakes?"

"Very funny."

She shrugged and grabbed the lime tray.

Her roommate Lisa, slid up to the bar and sat her b.u.t.t 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 h.e.l.l 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 s.h.i.t 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. G.o.d. 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 d.a.m.n 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 s.h.i.t out."

Abby leaned into her brother, eyes on her best friend, Lisa. She was anxious, scared and trying like h.e.l.l 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.

Chapter Twenty-one.

The Simon family home in Gravenhurst, Ontario on the banks of Lake Muskoka was one of those places where Tucker always felt comfortable. G.o.d, but he loved it up here. There were no cameras. No paparazzi. No business meetings. No distractions. Nothing but the fresh air, the lake, and a house large enough to fit the entire Simon clan.

Although as he gazed down at the chaos in the kitchen, he wasn't so sure it would survive all the add-ons.

The add-ons being, Betty Jo Barker. His sister Grace's current romance du jour, some trendy hipster named Harry who refused to take his beanie off. Jack's girlfriend, Monique. And well, the one add-on he couldn't take his eyes off of, Abby.

His brother Teague was somewhere in South America-n.o.body knew where exactly-and Tucker's hope of seeing his twin was long gone. The last time he'd talked to Teague had been the week before, but even that conversation had been short. Tucker hadn't even had the chance to tell him about Abby.

And now it was Wednesday, closing in on nine o'clock and dark as sin outside. Not one star in the sky. He and Abby had arrived a few hours earlier. They'd met up with Grace and Harry at LaGuardia, flown to Toronto and then driven up north. The family had indulged in some beers and Chinese food, and while Beau and his father were busy getting the fireplace going, the girls were relaxing in the kitchen and Tucker had escaped upstairs for some quiet.

But he wasn't alone.

Jack leaned over the second floor railing and gazed down at the kitchen as well. The great-big-a.s.s-room, as they called it, was ma.s.sive, open concept, with a full bank of windows that overlooked the lake. All of the bedrooms fed off an upper walkway that extended three quarters around. When Tucker was much smaller, he and his brothers would have epic spitball wars, shooting anyone who walked into the room.

G.o.d, those were the days.

Jack cleared his throat and shook his head. "How is it that you can pull the kind of stunt that you pulled at the fundraiser and still manage to convince that girl to come up here with you?"

Tucker grinned. "My charm?"

Jack stood up, arms crossed over his chest as he continued to gaze below. Dressed in a plain white T-shirt, old worn jeans, and sporting more than a couple days of growth on his chin, Tucker's older brother looked about as far removed from Washington as one could get.

Tucker kinda missed that look on him.

"Christ, I don't know what Monique would do if I pulled a stunt like that."

Tucker's eyes swung to Jack's girlfriend. The woman was perched on the edge of a sofa, trying to look interested in what Betty, Abby, and his mother were discussing. But even from here, it looked as if the woman was bored as h.e.l.l. Guess they weren't discussing the color of paint on the walls or what would look better on the windows, some of that frilly see-through s.h.i.t or California shutters.

"Why is Monique even here?" Tucker asked suddenly.

Jack's head swiveled his way. "What do you mean? It's Thanksgiving."

"Yeah. Thanksgiving. A time you spend with your family. Those who matter."

Jack's eyebrows knitted together, and he unfolded his arms. "Say again?"

Tucker shrugged. "I just don't get you two is all. Actually, I don't get a lot of the women you've dated over the past five years. They're nothing like-"

"Don't say it," Jack bit out.

"Donovan."

Tucker studied his brother. Jack's face was dangerously p.i.s.sed off, and his hands were clenched at his sides. Huh.

Donovan James was an outrageous, s.e.xy as h.e.l.l singer with a bit of tw.a.n.g, a bit of rock and roll and a whole lot of att.i.tude. She'd ridden that att.i.tude all the way to the top of the charts in more countries than you could count on both hands, and graced as many trashy magazines or even more than their brother Beau. A few years back and more than a lifetime ago, she'd been the love of a very young Jack Simon's life.

She was, in Tucker's opinion, the one that got away.

"Don't go there with me, Tuck," Jack warned, sounding seriously p.i.s.sed off.

Tucker shoved away from the railing and faced his brother. "Look, I don't want to start something, but Jack, Monique isn't the right girl for you. She's nowhere near what you need, and if you don't watch out, you'll end up married and miserable. Just saying."

"That's pretty b.a.l.l.sy of you to be handing out relationship advice. From what I've heard, you've been banging a s.h.i.t-ton of women in the city for the past year. And yeah, I know Mom's all about you getting back out there, but I think you're going about it all wrong. What's Abby? Just another body in your bed while you try to decide whether or not you want to live a real life without Marley?"

"This has nothing to do with Marley."

Tucker clamped his mouth. A muscle worked its way across his cheek as he studied his brother.

"Are you sure, Tucker? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like it has everything to do with Marley."

Tucker glared at his brother. He glared at him for so long that his shoulder muscles stretched and tightened.

"She's been gone for over three years, Tuck. It's time."

s.h.i.t. There it was.

He glanced back downstairs. Caught sight of Abby giggling next to Betty and his heart twisted. He could ignore the obvious and shrug his shoulders, or he could be honest and lay it all out there. He could say the words that had been knocking around inside his head for days.

"I asked her to move in with me," he finally said. "I think I love her."

"You think?" Jack asked roughly. "Jesus, that's not good enough, Tucker. Not for someone like her. That girl down there wants the whole nine yards and I don't know her real well, but she seems the type to deserve it."

"You think I don't know that?" He shot a dark look at his brother.

"Hey, you're the one who started this bulls.h.i.t. Not me. I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"That girl's in love with you, and if you don't feel the same way, you've got to cut her loose."

Tucker didn't know what to say. He'd been in love before. h.e.l.l, up until a month ago, he thought he'd be in love with Marley for as long as he was alive. Their love hadn't been perfect, in fact a lot of the time it had been rough and volatile...but it had also been pa.s.sionate-it had been young and fresh and exciting and...

It had been safe. Back then, their whole world had been safe. Until she took a ride on that plane.

"f.u.c.k me," he whispered, eyes still glued to Abby, more confused than ever. The memory of Marley was something that he didn't think would let him go. How could it? It would always be unfinished. That last morning he'd shared with her would always be unfinished. How did he deal with that? With the things he hadn't done?

How did he make Abby fit into all of that without hurting her in the end?

And so he stood next to his brother, looking down until Abby turned her sweet face up to him. She wiped at that long piece of hair that always tickled her nose and she smiled at him until Betty said something that made her giggle and turn away.

"I don't know if what I have to give is enough for Abby."

Jack put his hand on Tucker's shoulder. "Brother, you need to find out. But a word of advice-"

"Yeah?"

"Don't use think and love in the same sentence when talking to a woman. Not if you want to keep all your manly parts intact."

Tucker's gaze was on Abby again. "Good to know," he murmured.

>A few hours later, Tucker thought about his brother's words as he and Abby made their way outside to the bunky, which was a small bunkhouse the boys used to sleep in when they were younger. Located about twenty feet from the main house and nestled among a bunch of Fir trees, it was big enough for a double bed, a TV, a small bathroom and not much else.

But it was private and Tucker had some things on his mind. Things that needed to be taken care of.

The place was warm-his father had made sure the heat was turned on and the small lamp near the bed cast a soft glow.

He shut the door behind him and pulled Abby into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head, listening to her breathing, feeling her heart beating. Slowly her arms made their way up to his shoulders, and she leaned back, eyes shimmery in the low lights.