Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

Irritated, he shrugged. “Sandy. She was a teacher.”

Abby tossed her rag onto the bar and shook her head. “She taught yoga.”

He frowned. “Right.”

He smiled. “She was damn flexible.”

Abby muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t quite hear, and then she leaned closer to him. “Jesus, Tucker, you’ve had what, six or seven of them in the last few months? Doesn’t it get old?”

Okay, he was starting to get more than a little pissed. Since when did Abby Mathews think she had a handle on what was going on inside him? She was just a bartender, for Christ sake.

“They’re adults, Abby, and they know the score. There’s no lying, no secrets. I don’t want anything more than what these women give me. What’s wrong with that? Does it make me an asshole?”

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; “No,” she said, grabbing up her rag and wiping at a spot on the bar. “It…you know what? Never mind.”

But something in her tone got to him.

He stood up. “You started this. What is it that you think I need?”

Her nostrils flared, a subtle movement, but he caught it. It told him a few things, one of which was the fact that Abby Mathews was just as riled and pissed as he was.

She tossed her rag and glared at him.

“You need someone you can talk to. Someone who’s willing to cancel a goddamn spa weekend if you need her. Someone who’s not just a piece of ass you can screw and then throw away. That kind of living isn’t good for anybody, no matter how easy it seems.”

Abby shoved her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and shrugged. “Jesus, Tucker, you need a friend.”

Tucker stared at her hard for several long seconds.

He saw her throat move as she swallowed.

He saw the pulse beat at the base of her neck…the way she licked at the corner of her mouth.

He stared at her for so long that his mind started wandering again, going to a place that it shouldn’t go.

A wandering mind that was chugging full steam ahead toward something he never would have considered, but…

“Then come with me,” he said softly. So softly that at first he wasn’t sure he’d actually said it.

Abby was silent for a few seconds, and then she leaned forward again, placing her palms on the bar as she cranked her head in order to look up at him.

“You only said that because you don’t think I will.”

No. He had said that because he was fucking crazy. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“When do you leave?” she asked, her voice low.

A heartbeat passed. What the hell was he doing?

“Tomorrow night.”

Abby took a step back, her eyes briefly on the invitation that was now stuck to the bar. She paused and then exhaled as she nodded, her eyes shadowed.

“Okay.” She licked her lips, nodding again. “But we’re just friends. Got that?”

Tucker cleared his throat. “Sure we are, but uh, what’s your music man gonna think?”