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Abby slid her driver back into her golf bag and shrugged, her smile sweet as sugar pie. “You just need the right technique and sometimes a little motivation helps.”
“Yeah?” Beau said with a grin. “What’s your motivation?”
Betty Jo snorted and elbowed Tucker in the ribs, who scowled in response and said something not fit for the golf course.
“I just pictured Tucker’s face on the ball and went for it.”
Betty’s snort ended in a full bodied laugh as she tugged on Beau’s hand and propelled him toward their cart. “I knew I was going to like her.”
Abby walked around the cart she shared with Tucker and slid onto her seat, waiting for him to join her.
“Nice shot,” he said as they started down the fairway.
She didn’t reply because her throat was suddenly so tight she didn’t think that she could. She fingered the cracked T she’d just used, palming it and looking pretty much anywhere other than in Tucker’s general direction.
Beau and Betty Jo were several yards ahead of them, speeding toward Betty’s bright orange ball when all of a sudden Tucker brought their cart to an abrupt halt.
“Jesus, Tucker.” She glared at him, throat suddenly clear. “Maybe I should drive.”
He took a moment and when he spoke he sounded calm, though his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were
white and she knew he was as riled as she was.
“Can we talk about this?”
She didn’t have to ask what this was because this had been festering since breakfast.
“Right now?” she asked incredulously. “You want to talk about this right now?”
He nodded, eyes dark as he stared her down. “Yeah. I do. I get it. I was a dick last night and this morning…”
“Last night you were a dick, but this morning you were an outright asshole and out of the two, I prefer the dick.” She gulped, cheeks bright. “And I know what I just said, so shut up.”
Tucker sighed and leaned back in the seat, his eyes on his brother and girlfriend as Betty Jo argued with Beau—loudly—about what club to use. Betty was thinking the nine iron while Beau was gently suggesting she needed something with more power considering her drive had barely made fifty yards.
Abby followed his gaze and felt a flutter inside her when Beau leaned down and stopped whatever the heck Betty was trying to say with his mouth. He kissed her slowly as if he was taking his time to taste every little bit of her that he could, his hands cupping the sides of her face as if she was something to be cherished.
Something he couldn’t live without.
The flutter expanded, leeching into her chest painfully. God, how Abby wanted that with someone.
Who the hell was she kidding? Dick or asshole or whatever, she wanted that with Tucker.
“I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” Tucker said roughly and she turned away from his brother, cheeks heated and heart still flopping around like a rubber chicken. Boing. Boing. Boing.
Tucker was watching her, his dark eyes soft, tugging on something inside of Abby. Something attached to her stupid, bouncing rubber chicken of a heart. How the hell did he do that? With just one look?
“I just…my family has always been real hands-on, if you know what I mean. They like to be in my business.” He frowned and shook his head. “No, that’s wrong. They need to be up in my business, but sometimes it’s too much.”
Abby got that. She had six brothers, so hell yeah she got that.
“They’re just looking out for you, Tucker. That’s what friends and family do. They care about you, and sometimes that kind of love gets messy.”
“I know. Of course I know that, but it’s so goddamn suffocating at times. After Marley, it got worse. I didn’t need Beau calling me ten times a day to make sure I showered or my brother Teague dropping by for breakfast, lunch, and freaking dinner, because he didn’t think I’d be responsible enough to eat. I didn’t need Mom coming by to do my laundry or Dad trying to get me out for a round of golf or to watch a game.”
“I didn’t need it. I would have survived on my own.” He exhaled slowly. “But I took it…because that’s what they do…that’s who my family is. They’re loud and opinionated and every single one of them would go to the wall for me, you know? But it’s not about that anymore. It’s about other shit. It’s about my mom freaking out because she thinks I’m going to turn into a guy who sits in his apartment by himself for days, watching porn and ordering pizza every night. Hell, she was ready to order me up a prostitute, because she thinks I haven’t been laid in forever.”
“Guess she’s not up on the parade of Barbie dolls you’ve brought into my bar,” Abby said softly.
