Tucker (The Family Simon 1)

Sweet Jesus, the guy was easy on the eyes and did he ever know it. He’d flirted with her outrageously the night before and though Abby genuinely liked him—it was hard not too—she wasn’t in the mood to play his game right now.

“It’s nothing,” she said straightening her dress—a dress that Betty Jo Barker had nothing to do with, so her breasts weren’t falling out the top, and the naked factor was minimal.

The high-neck top was a deep green satin that left her arms bare, while the soft fabric that fell from an empire waist stopped just above her knee. With her dark hair, the color choice was flattering, but, more importantly, everything was covered up.

Even more important was the fact that she was wearing underwear. Jesus, she would have pulled on a pair of granny-pants if she had any with her.

Cooper took a sip from his tumbler, amber liquid glittering as sunlight hit the glass.

“Nothing,” he repeated, his voice like water over silk.

She shrugged, but didn’t respond. She was still navigating her way through the Simon family and, contrary to what Tucker had told her, she thought that his cousin Cooper was a whole lot more complicated than he’d indicated. There were layers to this guy, layers that she wasn’t sure his family knew about.

“So what’s the story with you and Tucker anyway?” Cooper asked.

“There is no story. We’re friends.”

Friends who kiss.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care.”

Cooper laughed and raised his glass. “I see why he likes you.”

A waiter passed by and Cooper grabbed a crystal flute. He handed it to Abby without asking if she wanted a drink. For a moment, there was that voice in the back of her head, the one that said, pace yourself, girl. You’re beer and wings not champagne and pastries.

At her raised eyebrow, he grinned. “You look

like you need it.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what I need.”

“I know more than you think,” he replied. “Trust me, you need a drink.”

“What is it with you?” She grumbled and eyed Cooper closely.

“You tell me.” Cooper leaned closer.

Abby took a sip of champagne and rolled her shoulders slightly. She considered Cooper for a few moments, her irritation growing at about the same rate as his smile.

“You do know that my family owns a bar in New York City, right?” she asked.

“Yep.” His smile widened even more. “Yes indeed, I believe that came up last night when you instructed the bartender on how to make the perfect martini.”

Her cheeks heated. God. She’d been a little full of herself.

“Well there is a wrong way and there is the Mathews way. I’ll give you two guesses as to which one is better.”

Cooper held his glass aloft in mock salute. “I believe you.”

Abby took another sip from her glass, relaxing a bit. “The thing is Cooper, working in a bar, being around people all the time, it gives a girl a certain perspective.”

“I’m all ears,” he said softly.

“I know people. I know how to read them. I know when they’re hiding something, and I know when they’re trying to be someone that they’re not.”

His eyes narrowed a bit, but the smile never left his face.