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“You sound just like Dad.”
Mick grabbed her hand—gently—and she looked up at him, eyes shining, heart bursting inside her.
“I love him, Mick.” There. She’d said the words out loud. “I love him,” she said again.
Mick’s hand fell away. “Wow. I knew you were in deep, but I sure as shit didn’t know you were all in.”
Abby let the tray fall back into the sink. “I’ve pretty much loved Tucker Simon since that first night he walked into this bar.” She nodded toward Lisa. “He sat there, he smiled up at me and I just…I just knew that he would change my life.”
Oh. God. To hear the words come out of her own mouth. To own those words…that was life changing.
For a moment there was silence, and then Mick spoke gruffly. “His situation is complicated.”
She nodded.
“I’m pretty damn sure he’s still married.”
Again she nodded. As far as Abby knew, his wife, Marley, had never been legally declared dead.
“Does he know that you love him?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Does he love you?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you’re going to spend Thanksgiving with him.”
Slowly, she nodded.
“Well,” Mick said, his arm sliding across her shoulder. “Guess it’s time you figured that shit out.”
Abby leaned into her brother, eyes on her best friend, Lisa. She was anxious, scared and trying like hell not to be too hopeful. It was hard. Tucker had asked her to think about moving in with him. He’d mentioned the word future, and that had pretty much bounced around her head for the past few days.
Heck, who was she kidding? It was all she could think about.
“But Abigail, if he breaks your heart I will hurt him.” Her brother wasn’t teasing and she knew him well enough to know that he would try.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Okay.
Chapter Twenty-one
The Simon family home in Gravenhurst, Ontario on the banks of Lake Muskoka was one of those places where Tucker always felt comfortable. God, but he loved it up here. There were no cameras. No paparazzi. No business meetings. No distractions. Nothing but the fresh air, the lake, and a house large enough to fit the entire Simon clan.
Although as he gazed down at the chaos in the kitchen, he wasn’t so sure it would survive all the add-ons.
The add-ons being, Betty Jo Barker. His sister Grace’s current romance du jour, some trendy hipster named Harry who refused to take his beanie off. Jack’s girlfriend, Monique. And well, the one add-on he couldn’t take his eyes off of, Abby.
His brother Teague was somewhere in South America—nobody knew where exactly—and Tucker’s hope of seeing his twin was long gone. The last time he’d talked to Teague had been the week before, but even that conversation had been short. Tucker hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about Abby.
And now it was Wednesday, closing in on nine o’clock and dark as sin outside. Not one star in the sky. He and Abby had arrived a few hours earlier. They’d met up with Grace and Harry at LaGuardia, flown to Toronto and then driven up north. The family had indulged in some beers and Chinese food, and while Beau and his father were busy getting the fireplace going, the girls were relaxing in the kitchen and Tucker had escaped upstairs for some quiet.
But he wasn’t alone.
Jack leaned over the second floor railing and gazed down at the kitchen as well. The great-big-ass-room, as they called it, was massive, open concept, with a full bank of windows that overlooked the lake. All of the bedrooms fed off an upper walkway that extended three quarters around. When Tucker was much smaller, he and his brothers would have epic spitball wars, shooting anyone who walked into the room.
