Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

She was good. Tucker would give her that. “Nope, it was more like a spa weekend she forgot about in Arizona.”

Abby looked disgusted. “I don’t know why you waste time with women like her.”

Tucker took another long drink before he settled back. It was simple really. “Women like Sonya know the score. They know I’m not in it for the long haul and as long as she’s getting what she wants—“

“What about what you want?”

Surprised, he didn’t answer her at first. “I don’t want anything more than what I’m getting.”

“Bullshit.”

He yanked his head up. “What?”

Abby tossed her long ponytail behind her shoulder and leaned forward until she was so close he could see the small sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He inhaled a crisp, shot of…something nice…and for a moment, his mind went blank. For that one moment, he didn’t hear the noise in the bar or feel the people jostling behind him. He didn’t see the woman sitting two stools down, the one who kept trying to get his attention.

Nope. The only thing he saw was Abby.

And her heart-shaped face.

And those big intense eyes.

And her disgust.

“I said that’s bullshit, Tucker, as in bull…”

She grabbed a lime from under the bar and shoved it into a beer bottle before sliding it down to a customer. Then she put her hands on her hips and pinned him with a look that said it all.

“Shit,” she said slowly, so that there was no way he could mistake her meaning. She really was disgusted with him.

Tucker’s eyes fell to her mouth and maybe his mind shouldn’t have gone there, but holy hell, he couldn’t stop himself and it did.

He found himself wondering how soft her lips were and what she would taste like. He wondered what she would feel like. Naked.

What she would look like. Naked.

What she would—

“You know what you need, Tucker?”

Abby’s sharp voice cut through the fog in his brain, and he cleared his throat. “I’m guessing you’re going to tell me.”

“You need to stop wasting time with all these women who’ll never figure into the rest of your life. Are you really happy with the endless parade of boobs with no brains?”

“Hey, the women I date have brains,” he protested.

“You don’t date,” she shot back. “You sleep with these women for as long as they don’t bother you for more than what you’re—” she paused. “—giving…and then you move on.”

He was getting annoyed.

“And,” Abby continued. “Contrary to what you like to tell yourself, they are boobs with no brains, because any woman with half a brain wouldn’t put up with your bullshit.”

“Not true.” Tucker settled back on his stool. “There was Candy.”

“Sandy.”

“What?”

“Her name was Sandy.”