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Abby stopped stretching. “Patio?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Patio sex
is hot. Don’t you think?”
Abby’s cheeks turned pink, and Tucker grinned. He liked this side of her—this slightly off-balance side.
“I didn’t know you were an exhibitionist,” she replied.
“With the right woman, I’m up for anything.” A memory flashed through him—an image of tangled legs, heated skin, the kiss of rain, and Marley. And just like that the hatchet that was buried inside his chest stirred. It cut deeper, awakening things he didn’t want awake.
Suddenly the lightness was gone. Suddenly everything was gone, and he just wanted to close his eyes and maybe forget. Shit.
“Tucker?” Abby asked quietly.
“You’re right,” he said abruptly. “We’ll deal with it in the morning.” Turning back to the desk clerk, Tucker grabbed the keycards and led the way to the elevators. The ride up was silent, broken only when he let them into their suite.
“Wow.” Abby walked forward a few feet and whirled around in a circle. “Wow! This is bigger than my entire apartment.”
Tucker dropped his bags. “It’s a bit much.”
The suite was over-the-top and reeked of money. With soft blues and creams, light bamboo and marble, it was something to see. High-end furniture filled the large, open area—a patio and hot tub sat out under the stars. The place was meant for relaxation, luxury, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
With a scowl, he nodded toward the left. The bedroom wasn’t enclosed, but the bed was hidden behind yards of gauzy material that fell from the ceiling and tucked behind it was the bathroom.
“You can sleep there, I’ll take the sofa.”
“No,” Abby said. “I can’t. That wouldn’t be right.”
His mood already darkened, Tucker crossed the room and paused at the bar where he scooped up a bottle of whiskey. “I’m not arguing. Take the bed.” Once his tumbler was filled with ice and booze, he turned back to Abby. She stood still, with her carry-on and small suitcase, her eyes on him. Eyes that were unsure.
Eyes that made him feel like an asshole.
“Look, Abby. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Please take the bed.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to sleep for a while, so...”
A heartbeat passed, and then with a quick nod she whispered, “All right.”
After she disappeared into the bathroom, Tucker made his way out to the patio and sank onto a chair that was in the far corner, buried in the shadows. Overhead, the night sky was crystal clear, and a million stars shone down on him. A breeze moved languidly, bringing with it the smell of the ocean—a scent he was familiar with—one that he loved.
He inhaled deeply and felt the weight of it as his lungs filled with the open air and unmistakable tinge of the ocean. It moved something inside him. Something he’d been trying to bury for years, it seemed.
Damn, but it still hurt.
Someone told him once that smell was more powerful than memory. That smell could bring back the most intimate or minute detail. It was true. The smell of the ocean always reminded him of home, family, and ultimately, Marley.
He knew it was a bad idea to come back here. He knew that the memories might be too much. That maybe he wasn’t strong enough to deal with them.
A grimace crossed his face. Damn family. He’d always had a problem saying no to them, even though his first instinct when he’d received his cousin’s invite was to toss it.
Slowly he sipped his whiskey and, after throwing his ball cap onto the patio floor, rested his head back so that he could see the sky better.
Where the hell was the Big Dipper?
He stared up at the stars for so long that they blurred and only looked away when his glass was empty. He poured himself another and was just about to settle back when a sound caught his ear, and he glanced over to the patio doors.
Abby.
After a few moments, she crossed the tiled floors and paused a few feet away.
