“I’m going back to work now,” she told him.
He nodded and returned to the trailer.
“What was that about?” Will asked.
“Some trouble with a couple of the guys. Nevada handled it.”
“She’s good with the men. They respect her.”
“That’s why I hired her.”
Will snorted.
Tucker narrowed his gaze. “Are you saying there’s another reason?”
“Sure, but because I’m in such a good mood we’ll pretend there isn’t.”
DENISE KNEW she was going to throw up. Her stomach whirled and spun and flipped as if it were possessed by some gastrointestinal alien. Her palms were damp, her skin clammy. Under any other circumstance, she would have told herself she had the flu and raced home. However, she’d already been hiding for too long and the symptoms had nothing to do with being sick and everything to do with a man.
That explained why she was standing in front of Max’s house. She’d left him two messages, which he hadn’t returned. Her reaction to his proposal made her ashamed of herself. She felt guilty and small. It was not a happy combination. So it was time for her to do something about it.
Drawing in a breath, she rang the doorbell. It would serve her right if Max refused to speak to her, but she was hoping he had more character than she did.
It turned out she was right. He opened the door a couple of seconds later, then smiled at her.
“Thanks for coming by,” he said, holding open the door.
“Aren’t you going to yell at me for my immature reaction?” she asked, walking past him and moving into a bright living room.
There were several sofas, nice wood tables and pretty artwork. If she had to guess, she would say he’d used a decorator. That instantly made her wonder if the decorator had been a woman and if they’d slept together.
“You’ve been doing that for me,” he said.
“What?”
“Yelling at yourself.”
“I have been. I’m sorry. I should have come to see you sooner.”
“Why? You weren’t ready.”
Kind words that made her want to scream. “Don’t be nice. I don’t deserve it.” She held up her hand. “Please. Let me say what I have to say.”
“All right. Do you want to sit down?”
“No. This is a standing-up kind of speech.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
Her mind went blank. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Nothing. Then the words came in a tumble.
“I’m glad you’re back. I never thought I’d see you again, and here you are. It’s been wonderful, rediscovering what we had. Only it’s different now. Better, I think. I’m older, but you seem to be okay with that.”
“Should I wait until you’re done or comment as you go?”
“Wait until I’m done.” She stared into his blue eyes and knew she had to tell him the truth.
“I loved Ralph so much more than I ever thought I could. He was a good man, a wonderful husband and father. I know people say that all the time, but it’s really true. He loved his kids and he loved me. Sometimes he would ask me if I was sure. If I had regrets. I hated that. Hated knowing he had questions. Because he was the one. I told him I didn’t have regrets, and I hope he believed me.”
She twisted her fingers together. “I remember when I had the girls. It was Christmas morning and the delivery was difficult. I lost a lot of blood. For a while they weren’t sure I was going to make it. I don’t remember very much except Ralph holding my hand, begging me not to die. I could feel his tears on my skin and I knew I had to stay with him. Because we were a family.”
She pressed her lips together. “We weren’t allowed to grow old together and that is my one regret. It’s been ten years and I still miss him. I still wish he were here.”
“I’m not trying to come between you and Ralph,” Max told her.
“I know. But when you walked into my house, I was so happy.” Tears burned in her eyes. “Happier than I should have been.”
“You said it yourself. Ralph’s been gone over ten years. Don’t you think it’s okay to be happy? Do you have to spend your life grieving?”
“I know all this,” she said. “I’ve been in therapy to help me through the stages of grief. I’ve been strong for my children. I’d even convinced myself that it was time for me to find someone of my own. My love for my husband will live on regardless of what I do. Nothing can take that away. But I won’t get married again. I want Ralph to have been the only man I married. He deserves that.”
He crossed to her, but didn’t touch her. “Denise, I proposed because I thought you would be more comfortable if we were married. You’re the kind of woman who gets married. But I don’t need that to love you. Hell, I’ve loved you for nearly forty years. It’s not going away. I want to be with you and you can define that however you want.”
“You’re not mad that I won’t marry you?”
“No.” He touched her face with his fingers. “Love me. Be with me.”
“That’s enough?”
“That’s plenty.”
She flung herself at him. He caught her and pulled her hard against him. Then his mouth was on hers and they were kissing and spinning. Or maybe just the room was spinning. Either way, it was perfect.
When he finally drew back, he brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“Promise me something,” he said.
She nodded.
“Next time, talk to me. Don’t run.”
She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. “I promise. For always, Max.”
“For always, Denise.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRIDAY, NEVADA STEPPED OUT of the bakery, the pink box she carried neatly tied with string. Yes, there were six chocolate cupcakes inside and she was pretty sure she was going to eat them all by herself. But it had been a stressful week and she deserved a sugar rush to make it all seem better.
The weird part was she didn’t usually eat a lot of sugar. Nor could she point to any particular event in her week and complain. Work was going great. They were going to be blasting in a couple of weeks and she was excited about that. From what she could tell, Cat and Tucker weren’t spending a lot of time together, although she kept reminding herself it wasn’t her business if they were. So the need for cupcakes was inexplicable, but very powerful.
She turned the corner and nearly ran into a man carrying a pizza box. Her body registered who it was before her brain recognized him.
“Tucker.”
He smiled at her. “I called you about a half hour ago, but you weren’t answering.”
She held up the pink box. “I had an emergency errand to run and forgot my cell phone at home.”
“I thought you might be out on a hot date.”
“Do three chocolate cupcakes and three coconut vanilla cupcakes count as a date?”
“It depends on what you do with them.”
They seemed to be staring at each other, she thought, rooted in place by forces she couldn’t name.
“I haven’t seen you much this week,” she murmured. “We’re both on-site at the same time, but in different places.”
She was out with her crew and he was in the trailer doing whatever it was potential owners of multibillion-dollar companies did.
“You’ve been busy with Cat,” he reminded her.
“She’s taking up a lot of my free time. Have you spent any time with her?”
“Not since the day she arrived.” He sounded pleased as he spoke, as if this were good news.
“She’s still really beautiful.”
He shrugged. “Not interested. I’m done with her. It was over years ago.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly her shoulders didn’t seem as tight and the evening was a little brighter.
He held up the pizza box. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”
She laughed. “Sounds good. Let’s go back to my place. I have wine waiting.”
“Wine and cupcakes. Talk about a party. You’re my kind of girl.”
Twenty minutes later they were sitting at her kitchen table, pizza on plates, wine in glasses.
“How’s your mom doing?” he asked between bites.
“Good. She and Max have worked things out. Apparently he proposed because he thought that’s what she wanted and she freaked out. They’ve talked everything over and are in a committed relationship that won’t end in marriage.” Nevada shook her head. “While I’m thrilled that she’s happy, I never thought this was anything close to a conversation I would be having with my mother.”
“You are part of a classic American family.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure about that.” She took a bite of pizza and chewed. After she’d swallowed, she said, “You really haven’t seen Cat?”
“Nope. No reason to. I’m not sure why she’s in town, but it’s not for me.”
He sounded cheerful as he spoke. As far as Nevada could tell, there wasn’t even a hint of longing for what had been.
He poured her more wine. “This is nice. I like your place. Did you remodel?”
She nodded. “I did most of the work myself. The house was built in the nineteen twenties. The traditional Victorian style didn’t fly with the neighbors, but the original owner was powerful and no one told him no.”
“A man after my own heart. I like being the guy no one says no to.”
“You would. In this case, people came to like the house. I’ve loved it from the time I was a kid. Over the years it was sold and turned into a low-rent apartment building. No one took care of it. By the time I bought it, the whole place was trashed. It took me nearly three years to do all the work, but it was worth it.”
She’d also squeezed every penny she could from the second mortgage she’d used to pay for the materials. Once the remodeling was done, she’d been able to rent out the bottom two apartments. She’d paid off the second mortgage last summer and was now paying down her first. A good feeling, she thought.
“To your house,” he said, raising his glass.
She touched hers to his. “Thank you.”
“Want to show me the rest of it?”
There was only the third floor, which was her bedroom, the large bath and a study. She was about to say that when she realized Tucker was watching her with an interest that said he wouldn’t mind his pizza getting cold. She went from hungry for food to hungry for something else in the space of a heartbeat.
He stood and walked around the table, then held out his hand. When she placed her fingers on his palm, he drew her to her feet and pulled her close.
She went willingly, wanting to feel his strong arms around her. His mouth claimed hers with a kiss that left her breathless.
He pressed his lips against her cheeks, her nose, the line of her jaw. He trailed his way to her neck, then kissed just below her ear. Goose bumps erupted as he licked the skin there. He moved lower, to her collarbone, then to the V of the long-sleeved shirt she wore. The hands at her waist reached higher.
Desire poured through her. Hunger grew. She remembered how it had been before, when he’d touched her with his skilled and patient fingers. She remembered the feel of him between her legs, filling her over and over again.
She put her right hand over his left and stepped away. Keeping hold of him, she drew him toward the stairs.
“You wanted to see the upstairs,” she whispered.
“I did.” He put his free hand on the railing. “Should I stop to admire the workmanship?”
She laughed. “Maybe later.”
She led him into her bedroom. It was already dark outside. She flipped on the switch, which illuminated the floor lamp in the corner.
The room itself was a girly combination of soft fabrics, dozens of pillows and delicate furniture. Her queen-size bed had a carved headboard. The walls were done in pale mauve. It was a woman’s retreat.
Tucker paused for a second and glanced around. “I like it. It suits you.”
No one had ever said that before. Even her sisters had been surprised by her decorating choices. In her mind, this room reflected a part of her personality that she kept hidden—sometimes even from herself.
Tucker toed off his boots, then walked toward her. “Tell me there’s a big claw-foot tub in the bathroom.”
She smiled. “There is.”
“You’re my kind of girl.”
They moved into the bathroom. While he got the bath temperature right, she lit candles. As water poured into the tub, he crossed to her. He kissed her, his tongue plunging inside and circling hers. His hands roamed her body.
Everywhere he touched grew more and more sensitized. A stroke of his fingers across her hip had her squirming toward home. Fingers down her arm had her wanting more. When his hands finally settled on her breasts, she had to consciously keep from begging.
He brushed against her tight nipples. Tension surged in her belly, then moved lower. She closed her lips around his tongue and sucked. The fingers at her br**sts moved faster.
“Water,” he murmured as he pulled back.
She released him reluctantly, knowing the disaster an overflowing tub would cause.
He turned off the taps, then unbuttoned his shirt. When he’d dropped it on the floor, he went to work on what she was wearing. Her shirt followed his. He unfastened her jeans and tugged them off along with her socks, then quickly removed her bra and panties. He paused to kiss her br**sts before taking off the rest of his clothes.
He nodded and returned to the trailer.
“What was that about?” Will asked.
“Some trouble with a couple of the guys. Nevada handled it.”
“She’s good with the men. They respect her.”
“That’s why I hired her.”
Will snorted.
Tucker narrowed his gaze. “Are you saying there’s another reason?”
“Sure, but because I’m in such a good mood we’ll pretend there isn’t.”
DENISE KNEW she was going to throw up. Her stomach whirled and spun and flipped as if it were possessed by some gastrointestinal alien. Her palms were damp, her skin clammy. Under any other circumstance, she would have told herself she had the flu and raced home. However, she’d already been hiding for too long and the symptoms had nothing to do with being sick and everything to do with a man.
That explained why she was standing in front of Max’s house. She’d left him two messages, which he hadn’t returned. Her reaction to his proposal made her ashamed of herself. She felt guilty and small. It was not a happy combination. So it was time for her to do something about it.
Drawing in a breath, she rang the doorbell. It would serve her right if Max refused to speak to her, but she was hoping he had more character than she did.
It turned out she was right. He opened the door a couple of seconds later, then smiled at her.
“Thanks for coming by,” he said, holding open the door.
“Aren’t you going to yell at me for my immature reaction?” she asked, walking past him and moving into a bright living room.
There were several sofas, nice wood tables and pretty artwork. If she had to guess, she would say he’d used a decorator. That instantly made her wonder if the decorator had been a woman and if they’d slept together.
“You’ve been doing that for me,” he said.
“What?”
“Yelling at yourself.”
“I have been. I’m sorry. I should have come to see you sooner.”
“Why? You weren’t ready.”
Kind words that made her want to scream. “Don’t be nice. I don’t deserve it.” She held up her hand. “Please. Let me say what I have to say.”
“All right. Do you want to sit down?”
“No. This is a standing-up kind of speech.”
He nodded. “Go ahead.”
Her mind went blank. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Nothing. Then the words came in a tumble.
“I’m glad you’re back. I never thought I’d see you again, and here you are. It’s been wonderful, rediscovering what we had. Only it’s different now. Better, I think. I’m older, but you seem to be okay with that.”
“Should I wait until you’re done or comment as you go?”
“Wait until I’m done.” She stared into his blue eyes and knew she had to tell him the truth.
“I loved Ralph so much more than I ever thought I could. He was a good man, a wonderful husband and father. I know people say that all the time, but it’s really true. He loved his kids and he loved me. Sometimes he would ask me if I was sure. If I had regrets. I hated that. Hated knowing he had questions. Because he was the one. I told him I didn’t have regrets, and I hope he believed me.”
She twisted her fingers together. “I remember when I had the girls. It was Christmas morning and the delivery was difficult. I lost a lot of blood. For a while they weren’t sure I was going to make it. I don’t remember very much except Ralph holding my hand, begging me not to die. I could feel his tears on my skin and I knew I had to stay with him. Because we were a family.”
She pressed her lips together. “We weren’t allowed to grow old together and that is my one regret. It’s been ten years and I still miss him. I still wish he were here.”
“I’m not trying to come between you and Ralph,” Max told her.
“I know. But when you walked into my house, I was so happy.” Tears burned in her eyes. “Happier than I should have been.”
“You said it yourself. Ralph’s been gone over ten years. Don’t you think it’s okay to be happy? Do you have to spend your life grieving?”
“I know all this,” she said. “I’ve been in therapy to help me through the stages of grief. I’ve been strong for my children. I’d even convinced myself that it was time for me to find someone of my own. My love for my husband will live on regardless of what I do. Nothing can take that away. But I won’t get married again. I want Ralph to have been the only man I married. He deserves that.”
He crossed to her, but didn’t touch her. “Denise, I proposed because I thought you would be more comfortable if we were married. You’re the kind of woman who gets married. But I don’t need that to love you. Hell, I’ve loved you for nearly forty years. It’s not going away. I want to be with you and you can define that however you want.”
“You’re not mad that I won’t marry you?”
“No.” He touched her face with his fingers. “Love me. Be with me.”
“That’s enough?”
“That’s plenty.”
She flung herself at him. He caught her and pulled her hard against him. Then his mouth was on hers and they were kissing and spinning. Or maybe just the room was spinning. Either way, it was perfect.
When he finally drew back, he brushed the tears from her cheeks.
“Promise me something,” he said.
She nodded.
“Next time, talk to me. Don’t run.”
She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm. “I promise. For always, Max.”
“For always, Denise.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
FRIDAY, NEVADA STEPPED OUT of the bakery, the pink box she carried neatly tied with string. Yes, there were six chocolate cupcakes inside and she was pretty sure she was going to eat them all by herself. But it had been a stressful week and she deserved a sugar rush to make it all seem better.
The weird part was she didn’t usually eat a lot of sugar. Nor could she point to any particular event in her week and complain. Work was going great. They were going to be blasting in a couple of weeks and she was excited about that. From what she could tell, Cat and Tucker weren’t spending a lot of time together, although she kept reminding herself it wasn’t her business if they were. So the need for cupcakes was inexplicable, but very powerful.
She turned the corner and nearly ran into a man carrying a pizza box. Her body registered who it was before her brain recognized him.
“Tucker.”
He smiled at her. “I called you about a half hour ago, but you weren’t answering.”
She held up the pink box. “I had an emergency errand to run and forgot my cell phone at home.”
“I thought you might be out on a hot date.”
“Do three chocolate cupcakes and three coconut vanilla cupcakes count as a date?”
“It depends on what you do with them.”
They seemed to be staring at each other, she thought, rooted in place by forces she couldn’t name.
“I haven’t seen you much this week,” she murmured. “We’re both on-site at the same time, but in different places.”
She was out with her crew and he was in the trailer doing whatever it was potential owners of multibillion-dollar companies did.
“You’ve been busy with Cat,” he reminded her.
“She’s taking up a lot of my free time. Have you spent any time with her?”
“Not since the day she arrived.” He sounded pleased as he spoke, as if this were good news.
“She’s still really beautiful.”
He shrugged. “Not interested. I’m done with her. It was over years ago.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly her shoulders didn’t seem as tight and the evening was a little brighter.
He held up the pizza box. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”
She laughed. “Sounds good. Let’s go back to my place. I have wine waiting.”
“Wine and cupcakes. Talk about a party. You’re my kind of girl.”
Twenty minutes later they were sitting at her kitchen table, pizza on plates, wine in glasses.
“How’s your mom doing?” he asked between bites.
“Good. She and Max have worked things out. Apparently he proposed because he thought that’s what she wanted and she freaked out. They’ve talked everything over and are in a committed relationship that won’t end in marriage.” Nevada shook her head. “While I’m thrilled that she’s happy, I never thought this was anything close to a conversation I would be having with my mother.”
“You are part of a classic American family.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure about that.” She took a bite of pizza and chewed. After she’d swallowed, she said, “You really haven’t seen Cat?”
“Nope. No reason to. I’m not sure why she’s in town, but it’s not for me.”
He sounded cheerful as he spoke. As far as Nevada could tell, there wasn’t even a hint of longing for what had been.
He poured her more wine. “This is nice. I like your place. Did you remodel?”
She nodded. “I did most of the work myself. The house was built in the nineteen twenties. The traditional Victorian style didn’t fly with the neighbors, but the original owner was powerful and no one told him no.”
“A man after my own heart. I like being the guy no one says no to.”
“You would. In this case, people came to like the house. I’ve loved it from the time I was a kid. Over the years it was sold and turned into a low-rent apartment building. No one took care of it. By the time I bought it, the whole place was trashed. It took me nearly three years to do all the work, but it was worth it.”
She’d also squeezed every penny she could from the second mortgage she’d used to pay for the materials. Once the remodeling was done, she’d been able to rent out the bottom two apartments. She’d paid off the second mortgage last summer and was now paying down her first. A good feeling, she thought.
“To your house,” he said, raising his glass.
She touched hers to his. “Thank you.”
“Want to show me the rest of it?”
There was only the third floor, which was her bedroom, the large bath and a study. She was about to say that when she realized Tucker was watching her with an interest that said he wouldn’t mind his pizza getting cold. She went from hungry for food to hungry for something else in the space of a heartbeat.
He stood and walked around the table, then held out his hand. When she placed her fingers on his palm, he drew her to her feet and pulled her close.
She went willingly, wanting to feel his strong arms around her. His mouth claimed hers with a kiss that left her breathless.
He pressed his lips against her cheeks, her nose, the line of her jaw. He trailed his way to her neck, then kissed just below her ear. Goose bumps erupted as he licked the skin there. He moved lower, to her collarbone, then to the V of the long-sleeved shirt she wore. The hands at her waist reached higher.
Desire poured through her. Hunger grew. She remembered how it had been before, when he’d touched her with his skilled and patient fingers. She remembered the feel of him between her legs, filling her over and over again.
She put her right hand over his left and stepped away. Keeping hold of him, she drew him toward the stairs.
“You wanted to see the upstairs,” she whispered.
“I did.” He put his free hand on the railing. “Should I stop to admire the workmanship?”
She laughed. “Maybe later.”
She led him into her bedroom. It was already dark outside. She flipped on the switch, which illuminated the floor lamp in the corner.
The room itself was a girly combination of soft fabrics, dozens of pillows and delicate furniture. Her queen-size bed had a carved headboard. The walls were done in pale mauve. It was a woman’s retreat.
Tucker paused for a second and glanced around. “I like it. It suits you.”
No one had ever said that before. Even her sisters had been surprised by her decorating choices. In her mind, this room reflected a part of her personality that she kept hidden—sometimes even from herself.
Tucker toed off his boots, then walked toward her. “Tell me there’s a big claw-foot tub in the bathroom.”
She smiled. “There is.”
“You’re my kind of girl.”
They moved into the bathroom. While he got the bath temperature right, she lit candles. As water poured into the tub, he crossed to her. He kissed her, his tongue plunging inside and circling hers. His hands roamed her body.
Everywhere he touched grew more and more sensitized. A stroke of his fingers across her hip had her squirming toward home. Fingers down her arm had her wanting more. When his hands finally settled on her breasts, she had to consciously keep from begging.
He brushed against her tight nipples. Tension surged in her belly, then moved lower. She closed her lips around his tongue and sucked. The fingers at her br**sts moved faster.
“Water,” he murmured as he pulled back.
She released him reluctantly, knowing the disaster an overflowing tub would cause.
He turned off the taps, then unbuttoned his shirt. When he’d dropped it on the floor, he went to work on what she was wearing. Her shirt followed his. He unfastened her jeans and tugged them off along with her socks, then quickly removed her bra and panties. He paused to kiss her br**sts before taking off the rest of his clothes.
