His Convenient Husband: Innamorati, Book 1 (5 page)

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Authors: J. L. Langley

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BOOK: His Convenient Husband: Innamorati, Book 1
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Tucker pulled back, hoping Micah would think the kiss was for their audience’s benefit.

“What in the holy hell do you think you’re—?”

“Shh…” Tucker dipped his head a little, indicating the others.

His family had moved toward them, and now on the porch was a man in an expensive-looking gray suit.
Duncan.
Tucker hadn’t remembered him looking that much like Dad, but then Tucker had been four years old the last time he saw Duncan. There was no denying Duncan was Jeff’s older brother. It made Tucker’s blood boil.

The passenger side door opened. “Well lookie here, the prodigal son has returned.” Juan smiled. “Welcome back, young’un.”

“And he brought Tucker,” AJ said in a surprised whisper. “Well, I’ll be damned. Hi there, big brother.”

“Juan was talking about Tucker, not Micah.” Dad laughed. Leaning down, he caught Tucker’s gaze. “Get out here, boy!”

After taking off his seat belt, Tucker opened his own door and smiled so big his face hurt. By the time he made it around the car, AJ and Juan had gathered around Micah, fussing over him.

Micah brushed them off, telling them he was fine.

Dad met Tucker in front of the car and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t breathe. He stepped back and studied his father. Dad looked older. There was more gray in his hair and more wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but he looked good. He looked like home. Tucker hugged him again. “Hi, Dad.”

“Glad you’re home, son. You take care of our boy?” Dad pulled back, his focus cutting to where AJ and Juan stood with Micah.

Micah caught Tucker’s gaze and his eyes fairly sparkled with happiness for a brief moment, then he looked away and said something to AJ.

Nodding, Tucker smiled. “I’ve tried. He’s been fighting me the whole way though.”

AJ laughed. “Sounds like him.” He patted Micah on the back before striding forward and grabbing Tucker in a big ole bear hug and lifting him off the ground. “Glad you’re back. I should’ve sent the brat after you sooner.”


Besa mi culo
.” Micah grinned at AJ.

“You should’ve called me sooner.” Tucker frowned, but it was lost on AJ who was flipping Micah off.


You
kiss my ass, brat.” AJ looked back at Tucker and the laughter and fun left his eyes. “Did you see who’s here?”

Tucker’s attention zeroed in on the porch and met Duncan’s gaze. “Yeah. Do we need to kick his ass out?”

“I’d love to, but Granddaddy wants him here.”

Duncan came down the porch steps, heading their way with his chin held high. He looked so much like Tucker’s dad, Tucker had to remind himself what a bastard the man was. When Duncan reached them, he stepped up and held out his hand to Tucker. “So you’ve decided to come home. Or did the”—his gaze raked over Micah and a snarl appeared on his lips—“little freeloader drag you back?”

“And by freeloader I assume you are referring to my husband.” Tucker stared right at Duncan, watching the shock play over his face. Revulsion quickly followed the shock, which set Tucker’s teeth on edge even more. “Come on. Call him a freeloader again. I dare you.”

Chapter Five

 

Tucker sat on the back porch rail drinking his whiskey and smoking a Latin Gold he’d found in the humidor in the office. Granddad had always had good taste in cigars. Tucker grinned, remembering the first time he’d gotten into his granddaddy’s cigars. He’d just turned sixteen and thought he was hot shit. Dad had been livid, but Granddad had just taken it in stride, offering Tucker one after another. They’d sat out on the porch smoking and talking until Tucker had gotten so lightheaded he’d thrown up. After that, he hadn’t touched another cigar. Well, not until he’d moved to Dallas anyway.

He took a puff from the cigar and looked up at the full moon. Damn, he was gonna miss the old man. It had hurt to see him lying in bed looking so frail this afternoon. Tucker should’ve come home more often. It was a mistake he wouldn’t repeat again. From now on, he was visiting home every month, at least for a weekend.

Taking a drink, he let the whiskey slide down his throat and gazed out at the back pasture. His family wasn’t all he missed. He missed the country. The fast pace of the business world was exciting, but there was just nothing like a spring night out here far from civilization. It was beautiful. There were so many stars. He’d forgotten how many. When was the last time he’d taken time to look at the stars? He’d been stuck in his high-rise office working on one project or another plenty of times after the sunlight faded, but the city lights made the stars disappear. Buildings overpowered the Dallas horizon. The big city had its own appeal, but out here was pure magic. The sky looked so endless.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” a soft voice asked.

Tucker started, not realizing he had company, but immediately grinned as recognition set in. He hadn’t seen Micah but once since they arrived this afternoon. After they’d gotten here, Tucker had gone straight up to see his grandfather. Then after his visit he’d buried himself in the office going over the bills. Micah had come in and shown him some stuff on the computer and they’d formed a sort of truce, a united front against Duncan. They had to make their marriage look real to outsiders or it’d be much easier to contest.

Taking a puff from his cigar, Tucker turned his head toward Micah and wished he hadn’t.

Micah stood at the top of the back steps, a soft grin on his face. The smart little glasses he’d worn during his stay in Dallas were gone. He’d looked adorable in them, but now, without them, he was stunning. Tucker had forgotten how big his eyes were. Those glasses had concealed a lot. Micah’s usual hat-covered black hair was wet, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. The red short-sleeved polo shirt pulled tightly across a slim but nicely shaped chest, and even showed off toned biceps. He was still smaller than Tucker, but Micah didn’t look like a kid any longer. A pair of tight jeans emphasized the leg muscles he’d earned from years in the saddle, and his feet were bare.

Tucker’s breath caught. The memory of the last time he’d seen Micah bare footed, when Tucker had left The Bar D after their one night together, came to mind. God, he’d felt like such a cruel son of a bitch.

Micah settled beside him, leaning his tanned forearms on the rail. He stood so close the heat of his body warmed Tucker’s left arm.

“Yeah, I’ve missed it. There aren’t as many stars in the city.” Taking a drink of his whiskey, Tucker glanced back out at the deep endless sky. The soft spring breeze ruffled his hair and blew the vanilla-scented smoke around him. A
someone is staring at you
feeling niggled at him, but he didn’t look to confirm it. Part of him wanted Micah to be looking, which made Tucker want to kick his own ass. He’d ruined his chances with Micah long ago. Damn if being back here didn’t have Tucker way off balance, or maybe it was the three whiskeys he’d had in the last hour. At any rate, he had to keep reminding himself he’d burned his bridges.

“Is it all you’ve missed?”

Apprehension trickled over Tucker, but he pushed it away. It may never be like it was before, but they could at least get along. “No, it’s not all I’ve missed. I miss my family and working on the ranch. I miss—”
You.
Tucker’s chest ached at the realization. He missed the easy friendship he and Micah had had before Tucker had messed it up with that one night. It seemed wrong to regret such a wonderful, profound night, but he did.

Micah extracted the cigar from Tucker’s fingers and took a puff.

It was such an intimate gesture Tucker found himself staring. “I—I miss the quiet.” He watched Micah’s lips pucker as he blew out the smoke, and unbidden the image of those sweet lips kissing up his body sprang to mind. Tucker shook his head and retrieved his cigar from Micah. “Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t usually.” Micah shrugged. “Why don’t you come home more often? Is it because of me? I’d hate to think that—” Micah’s voice lowered, almost quivering. “I don’t want you to stay away from your family because of me.”

Damn. A pang of guilt slapped Tucker in the gut. He did stay away because of Micah, but not for the reasons Micah thought. “It’s not you.” The lie slipped out of his mouth so easily, Tucker almost believed it himself. “Work keeps me busy. There are always deals to make and companies to sell.” Tucker took a puff of his cigar, and it occurred to him that Micah’s lips had just rested where his were. Micah’s lips tasted as sweet as they had four years ago. Did Micah have more practice now? Tucker shouldn’t care, but he didn’t like the idea of Micah being with anyone else. He’d been Micah’s first, but Tucker had no right to expect to be Micah’s only.

“What’re you doing out here?” Tucker winced at the growl in his voice.

Micah was quiet for several moments. When he spoke, his volume was barely above a whisper. “Couldn’t sleep. I was wondering where you were.”

Sucking in a breath of air, Tucker nearly choked. He covered quickly by taking a drink. Something tickled his arm as he set his drink on the porch railing. He glanced down.

Micah’s long dark fingers feathered over his arm, caressing. It was an innocent touch, but it sent the blood thrumming straight to Tucker’s groin.
Fuck.
He had to get outta here before he did something he’d regret. Keeping his distance was much easier when Micah was pissed at him.

Tucker dropped his cigar to the ground and crushed it out with his boot prior to kicking it off the porch. After standing, Tucker turned and glanced right into big brown eyes.

Once again, Micah hesitantly traced his fingers over Tucker’s forearm. It moved the hair and left a tickling feeling. “Have you had a chance to look over the bills?”

The innocent gesture made Tucker’s cock fill fully. “Yeah. I’ve already transferred money to cover the outstanding debt.”

Nodding, Micah looked away toward the pasture. “Thanks.” He bit his bottom lip and took a deep breath.

The expression tugged at Tucker’s heart. His gaze locked on the full sensual lip caught between Micah’s straight white teeth. Tucker was such a goner. Stepping closer, he hooked his forefinger under Micah’s chin and lifted it.

Blinking, Micah cleared his throat and tried to step back. Tucker moved with him and stared into Micah’s startled eyes as their lips met.

It was like a jolt of lightning. Tucker wrapped his hand around the back of Micah’s head and held him close. Slanting his mouth over Micah’s, Tucker pushed his tongue inside.

Micah jerked and gasped into Tucker’s mouth. His body stiffened for several seconds as Tucker explored his mouth, then Micah relaxed and wound his arms around Tucker’s waist. Squeezing Tucker tight, Micah kissed back and his tongue slid hesitantly along Tucker’s. Micah’s breath quickened until he panted and his hands clutched at Tucker’s back. He pressed forward, mashing his erection against Tucker’s thigh.

Tucker’s cock lurched and his own breath came faster. His free hand gripped Micah’s firm little ass, urging him closer. Trying to catch his breath, Tucker pulled back but Micah didn’t stop. He rooted his face on Tucker’s neck, licking and kissing. Grunting, he thrust his hips at Tucker, grinding against him.

Fuck.
This was insane. Tucker had to stop this. As much as he wanted it, he knew it’d only make things more strained between them.

Micah’s ragged breathing turned into moans and his hands were everywhere at once. It was nothing like their one time together. Micah was no shy virgin this time. Wanting him so badly really pissed Tucker off. Why couldn’t he remain distant where Micah was concerned? Tucker managed it with every other lover he had, but Micah got under his skin.

When Micah grabbed Tucker’s cock, it was like a horse kicked Tucker in the stomach. Sanity returned along with anger…anger at himself. He hated being weak. Tucker gripped the thick hair in his hand and tugged Micah’s head back, forcing him to make eye contact. “Stop.” Tucker stared into languorous brown eyes only seconds before they went wide and Micah dropped his gaze.

Micah flung himself backward out of reach, not even looking at Tucker. “I-I-I’m sorry, I—” He shook his head then darted a glance up at Tucker. Micah shook his head and turned away, heading toward the kitchen door.

“Micah…” Tucker reached out before he realized it.

Micah jerked his shoulder away from the contact. “Fuck off.” He flung the door open and disappeared inside.

“Damn it.” Tucker leaned back against the rail and knocked his empty glass to the ground below. He sat there for several minutes just staring at the kitchen door. “Way to go, jackass.” How did he always end up screwing up where Micah was concerned? Tucker had a lot to apologize for.

Shoving himself off the railing, he went down the steps to retrieve the glass. As he bent, a flicker in the office caught his attention. What was that? Had he left the computer on? No, he knew he hadn’t. And he was sure if Micah were going to go do some work, he’d just turn the light on.

Quickly, Tucker retrieved the tumbler and made his way to the French doors that led into the office.

Duncan sat at the desk in front of the monitor. What the fuck? What was he after? Micah had said Duncan had been sending emails demanding the accounts. Tucker had seen the emails earlier when he’d studied the finances, but he hadn’t thought too much about it. Why would Duncan want the ranch records? Tucker was certain Duncan wasn’t just here to visit Granddad one last time.

Tucker opened the door and Duncan jumped, slapping a hand to his chest. “Jesus, you scared me.”

After closing the door behind him, Tucker crossed the room and flipped on the light. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I was going to get online and check my email.”

“Tough shit. Guess you should have brought a laptop, huh?”

Brow furrowing, Duncan stood. “Fine. Be an ass. I’ll remember that when The Bar D is mine.” He strode out of the office and slammed the door behind him.

Tucker hurried around the desk and set the tumbler down. He checked the screen. Duncan had used the wrong password.

Sitting in the chair, Tucker punched in the code Micah had given him and pulled up the email program. He sent off a note to a P.I. he used for business sometimes and shut the computer down. Tucker needed some dirt on the man because he had a sneaking suspicion that Duncan was not going to let things be after Granddad passed away. It was time to find out what Tucker was dealing with in regards to his uncle. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes. He may not know where he stood with Micah, but he knew damn well Duncan was his enemy.

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